Remedial Potions and Mermaid's Blood

Three weeks later:

Arista entered Snape's Potions classroom carrying her notebook and the recipe for
the Wolfsbane Potion in one hand. All the research she'd done over the past three weeks in the Hogwarts library and her father's private collection had led unerringly to this potion. She had a feeling that the Wolfsbane Potion held a key to finding a cure, and if she could recreate it, she might be able to figure out a way to use it along with her own powers to effect a permanent cure.

That was why she was here this morning, because her father had offered to
demonstrate the proper way to mix the complicated potion, which he'd stressed should only be attempted with a master's supervision.

Arista's previous education under Jenna and Colin Flynn had fostered a degree of
independence that was not often found in a Hogwarts student, who was accustomed to structured classroom methods. Dark Hunters were often solitary individuals, relying only on their wits and magic to capture criminals. Thus they taught their apprentice to be self- sufficient, alert, and to trust her instincts.

Arista had proved an apt pupil, smart enough to work with minimal supervision, but
not afraid to go for help if something went wrong. One glance at the Wolfsbane Potion told her she didn't possess the necessary skill or experience to brew it, and she wasn't foolish enough to try and attempt an unfamiliar potion all on her own, when anything could happen.

Magic was often unpredictable, she'd learned that the hard way when a flying potion had exploded on her, burning off half her hair.

She would take no such risk with this potion, whose ingredients were rare and costly.
Such impulsiveness would never impress her father, who seemed to value obedience and common sense in his pupils. He had already given her small tests to see whether or not she was the equal of a third-year Hogwarts student, and had pronounced her potions expertise as above average, but her technique could use more practice, as could her critical thinking skills.

"I want you to think about why a solution has certain ingredients in it, not just parrot
back formulas at me. I know them already and anyone with half a brain and time can
memorize a recipe. What you need to learn is the reason why a potion works, the cause and effect of each ingredient. Only when you understand that can you even begin to alter an existing recipe and create something entirely new. That is the difference between a textbook potions student and a truly gifted one. Textbook students see only the formula in the book, but a master of potions sees the relationships within each formula and the possibilities of creating a new solution," he told her after one of his little exams.

She longed to impress him, to win his approval, for he was as critical of her efforts
as he was of any of his students, and he did not spare her his tongue when she made a foolish mistake. Though he was less abrasive with her than some of his other students, such as Neville Longbottom, whom Snape believed didn't apply himself enough. Laziness was a cardinal sin in his book.

In a way, her father's methods were not all that different from a Dark Hunter's.
Neither of the Flynns believed in coddling their apprentice and they were strict and
demanding when they needed to be. "Get it right the first time, or else quit whining," was a favorite expression of Colin's, who taught her self-defense and shielding magics. Jenna was not as quick to deliver a reprimand, but she too was a thorough and competent teacher, drilling her pupil endlessly until the spells were second nature.

When she walked into the classroom that morning, she half-expected to see her
father sitting calmly at his desk, the ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion standing at
attention in front of him, waiting impatiently for her arrival.

Instead she found Snape's desk empty and the only other occupant a fat boy of about
her own age with short dark hair and a round moon-like face, dressed in a blue shirt and black pants, wearing a black wizard robe with the Gryffindor crest. His head jerked up in alarm at her approach, then relaxed when he caught sight of her, a mere girl in jeans and a mint green top.

"Hello. Are you taking Remedial Potions too?" he asked shyly. "I didn't think there
was anyone worse at it than I am."

"Uh, no, I'm actually a-a transfer student from America," she improvised hastily.
"I'm doing an extra credit project for the summer."

"Oh. You must be really smart, to take an advanced class with Professor Snape."
Neville stammered. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

She came forward to shake his hand. "Arista. Arista Snape."

"Did you say S-Snape? Are you related to the professor?" he gasped, looking at her
as if she'd claimed to be related to a scorpion.

Arista nodded, fighting back a grin. "He's my dad. Why?"

Neville went pale. "He's your father? I didn't even know he was married." He blushed bright red. "Are your parents, uh, like divorced?"

"No, but my mom died when I was born. It's a long story, I'll tell you another time. He ought to be here any minute, and I need to get set up, before he starts growling at me."

"Right." He quickly sat down at his desk and took out his potions book.

Arista winked at him, then began laying out her notes next to the cauldron her father
had given her for this experiment. She lined up all of her apparatus, her scalpels and knives, mortar and pestle, beakers and bowls, measuring spoons, and stirrers, neatly on her desk. He'd do inspection of her apparatus first, then give her the ingredients she'd need. She waited at her desk for several minutes, but Snape did not appear.

That's strange. He's usually never late for a class with me. I wonder if it has to do
with Nightshade? Maybe they've found out some new information. She certainly hoped so, because thus far, the evil old hag had managed to give the slip to both Flynns and her father for the past three weeks.

Next to her Neville was muttering a formula with increasing panic. "Eye of newt,
snake blood, ground wormwood—no, wait, I forgot the powdered goldenrod again!" he groaned. "I'm never going to remember how this Snake Charm Potion goes, and he'll kill me if I get it wrong this time."

Arista had learned that potion last year as part of her accelerated potions class with
Jennika. She'd had no trouble memorizing the ingredients, but then that was one of her strengths. "Need some help?" she volunteered.

"Please," he looked pathetically grateful. "I thought I had it down last night, but
when I try and remember it now, it's all jumbled up in my head. He's going to quiz me on it and I won't remember anything, and I'll look like an idiot, same as I always do in his class."

"Don't worry about that, just listen to me, okay?" Arista walked over to him. "You
need to calm down, you're gonna hyperventilate if you keep breathing like that. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath. Good, now let it out, slowly. Now do it again. Again. Okay, open your eyes."

Neville did so and this time he was able to breathe normally.

"You've got major test anxiety, you know that?" she remarked. "I've never seen anybody with it that bad."

"T-that's not just test anxiety, it's Professor Snape anxiety," Neville whispered, darting a fearful glance at the door.

Arista snickered. "Aww, come on, you can't be serious. I know he can be sarcastic
and strict as a poker, but he won't beat you or anything. What's the worst he can do? Give you a detention? Tell your parents?"

"My gran's away in Egypt studying mummies, and even if he did send her an owl,
she'd just tell him to work me harder," the boy sighed. "It's just that I can't take him yelling at me, I turn all to jelly inside."

"Uh-huh. I don't like it myself, but he's doing it for a reason."

"What reason? To torture us?"

"No. He's trying to distract you. To test how well you respond under pressure. It's
an old Dark Hunter trick. My teachers used that method on me too. It's because you need to learn to concentrate when you make potions, and not let anything break your
concentration. Not even somebody yelling over your shoulder."

"But how can I concentrate when he's insulting me every other sentence?"

"Just tune them out. He's goading you to try harder, only you're taking it personally.
Don't do that. Just say yes, sir, and then listen to the instructions he's giving you. That's what's important, not the insults."

"Easy for you to say. He probably doesn't insult you all that much, since you're his
daughter."

"Boy, are you wrong! You think he goes easy on me 'cause I'm his kid? No way!
He's on my back twice as fast, because he expects more from me. I'm the Potion Master's daughter, remember? Yesterday I added a bit too much gillyweed to my Waterbreathing Draft and he asked me if I learned to count in kindergarten like everyone else, because otherwise he'd send me back there until I learned that two comes before three."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Sure it does. Enough so next time I'll remember the correct amount of gillyweed."

She tapped his potions book, opening it to the page on the Snake Charm Potion. "Now, as far as you memorizing the right order of these ingredients, I know a trick that might help you. Ever thought about using a mnemonic?"

"A mne—what?"

"A mnemonic," she repeated. "It's a trick to help you memorize lists of items. Like
ROY G BIV, the spectrum of light from lowest to highest? Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. Didn't your teachers ever show you that in grade school?"

Neville shook his head.

"Well, all you do is make up a sentence where the first letter of each word stands for
the ingredient you're trying to memorize. Make it something familiar, that way if you forget which ingredient comes first, all you have to do is repeat the sentence. Simple, right?"

"If you say so."

"Here, I'll help you with this one. First ingredient in Snake Charm's eye of newt,
and second's snake blood, so how about Even Slytherins . . ."

Unknown to them, Professor Snape had opened the door to the classroom about
halfway through Arista's lecture on mnemonics and was now standing silently by the door, listening to his daughter tutor Neville. Clever, very clever, Arista my girl. Maybe this will finally penetrate Longbottom's skull. I should have thought of that myself. She's got more patience than I do, though she's drilling him quite relentlessly. Perhaps between the two of us, we can manage to teach Longbottom enough so he can pass my final exam and not kill himself or me in the process.

He waited until it seemed that Neville had finally grasped the correct sequence with
the aid of the mnemonic Even Slytherins Get Worried About Snape's Exams. (Eye of newt, snake blood, goldenrod, wormwood, asphodel, snake fangs, and extract of hoarfrost.). Then he swept into the room, cloak swirling dramatically behind him, slamming the door abruptly.

"So sorry to interrupt your little chat fest, Longbottom, but you're here to learn potions, not socialize, am I correct?" he inquired silkily, fixing the boy with one of his famous glares.

"Yes, sir," the boy whispered, then he actually looked Snape in the eye.

Snape lifted an eyebrow at that, then shot a glare at Arista. "I trust, Miss Snape, that
your apparatus is cleaned and ready for your first draft of Wolfsbane Potion?"

"Yes, sir." She gestured at her instruments. He eyed them critically, then nodded.
He waved his wand at his desk and several bottles and containers appeared on the desk.

"Fetch what you think you need from my desk while I quiz Mr. Longbottom, then wait for my next instructions." He pointed his wand at Longbottom's text and the book shut itself with a snap.

"Yes, sir." She rose to do as he ordered, winking at Neville behind her hand.

"Mr. Longbottom, can you tell me the correct ingredients for a Snake Charm Potion?
In order, if you please, and speak up so I can understand you, boy, none of your idiotic
mumbling now."

Neville cleared his throat, then recited clearly, "Sir, the ingredients for a Snake
Charm Potion are eye of newt, snake blood, powdered goldenrod . . ."

* * * * * *

Both of them survived their potions lesson, and in fact Neville earned himself a nod
and a comment of, "If you continue to apply yourself this way, Longbottom, you may
actually pass this course by the end of the summer. Miracles do happen occasionally, wouldn't you agree, Miss Snape?"

"Absolutely, sir," she answered, perfectly straight-faced, though she could tell that he suspected her of having a hand in Neville's success.

"The real miracle will be if you can actually find that cure you're seeking, young
lady," he snorted.

"Like you said, sir, miracles do happen," she quoted back at him, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Don't get smart with me, miss," he growled, them turned away to gather up his
notes, his mouth twitching into a reluctant grin. "Dismissed, both of you."

The two silently gathered up their materials then left. Once they were safely down
the corridor, Neville breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Am I glad that's over! I still can't believe I actually passed that quiz."

"Well, you did, and you earned yourself the equivalent of a gold star from him too. See, you're not all that hopeless, Neville."

"Thanks to you, Arista."

"What? That mnemonic was nothing." She checked her watch. "Got to run, I've got
self-defense with Colin, and then Madame Pomfrey wanted me to go over some surgery techniques with her before lunch."

Neville was staring at her in horror. "You've got school during summer vacation? I thought you were just working on that potions project."

"I am. Self-defense and the lessons with Madame Pomfrey are just for fun. Well,
self-defense is mandatory, I practice every morning, but the healing stuff I need to learn if I'm ever going to be a certified Master Healer one day. That's my primary talent." She waved at him over her shoulder. "See you at lunch."

"And I thought I had an awful summer with just Potions," Neville said to himself. "I'm glad my parents weren't teachers, if this is how you have to spend your summers!"

* * * * * *

Over lunch, Arista told Neville of her quest to find a cure for werewolves and her
desire to be a Healer one day. Neville was impressed by her determination, and found himself speaking about his parents, something he almost never did.

Frank and Alice Longbottom had been tortured by the Death Eater Bellatrix
Lestrange with the Cruciatus Curse until they went mad. They were now residents of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, and had been for thirteen years. None of the doctors could heal the Longbottoms, who were trapped in their own minds, reliving the horrors Bellatrix made them suffer. They did not even remember their own son.

"And there's nothing anyone can do to help them?" Arista asked.

"No. The Healers have tried everything they know, but nothing works. All the
healing spells and Memory Charms they cast don't have any effect. My gran says their fear of revealing information to Bellatrix was so strong that they hid themselves inside their minds and now nobody can find them to show them the way out. They were Aurors, both of them."

"Your parents were Dark Hunters?" Arista exclaimed. "Just like my mom. That's
how she died, a dark witch killed her on her last assignment. But she hid me from
Nightshade before she went to bring her in, and that's why I grew up in America instead of here. I was raised by Muggles in an orphanage, I never knew my parents until I came here this summer and met my father."

Neville whistled. "Bet that was a shock."

"Uh, you could say that," Arista giggled. "For him more than me, since I look a lot
like my mom and he never even knew I was born. My mom was going to tell him, but then she got killed. But I think he's handling it pretty well." She laughed softly, then said, "Anyway, what happened to that Bellatrix witch?"

"She's in Azkaban for life. At her trial, she admitted everything, said she was proud
to have done such a service for—for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Neville said angrily.

"Sounds like a real psycho. Nightshade must be related to her. Probably first
cousins or something. That's why I'm here, because Nightshade escaped from the States and is hiding somewhere nearby, according to the latest Dark Hunter Intelligence."

Neville gulped, turning pale as a dead fish. "You-you mean the dark witch who
killed your mom is on the loose over here? Near the school?"

"Yeah. My teachers, Colin and Jenna Flynn, are tracking her. They have been, ever
since she killed my mother, but they've never been able to catch her. She's like a ghost, she vanishes into smoke. But now we know she's here, and she's got less places to hide, so we have a much better shot at capturing her. My dad's helping them, and I hope when they find her, he nails her good. She deserves to die, she's a murderer ten times over, she's even killed little kids," Arista declared fiercely. "If I ever found her, I'd kill her without blinking."

Neville said nothing, simply sipped his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Sorry, did I shock you? You probably think I'm crazy, talking about killing someone
like that, but I can't help it. She stole my mom from me and I want her to pay, I want her to suffer the way she's made my dad and me suffer, and all those other people whose lives she ruined. It's not fair, that she's gotten away with murder all these years. I just want her dead."

"I don't blame you. If I ever saw Bellatrix I'd . . .I'd do something horrible to her.
They say Azkaban's a terrible place, with the dementors and all, but she deserves all that and more for what she did to my parents. I wish she was dead too."

"Too bad we couldn't send her a potion that'd kill her." Arista sympathized. Then
she lowered her voice and glanced covertly around the room. They were alone in the hall. "It's a good thing none of the adults are here. If they ever heard us talking about
assassinating people this way, even if they are dark witches, they'd have us both
committed."

"Like they wouldn't feel the same if it were their parents."

"Oh, I'm sure they'd understand, but they'd still send us for counseling or whatever.
We're too young for revenge," Arista said sarcastically. "Too young to understand the
finality of death. Ha! I'm a Healer, I know all about the finality of death. I fight against it
every time I heal a patient. I've even beat it once, when I raised a cat from the dead."

"You raised a cat from the dead?"

"When I was eleven. It was the first time I ever used magic. I can't ever do it again,
but that was the best thing I ever did with my healing talent so far."

"Wow! I didn't think that was even possible, bringing something back from the
dead!" Neville stared at her, awe-struck.

Arista shifted uncomfortably, unused to being under such intense hero-worship. "It's
not supposed to be, but I didn't know that. I believed I could save her, so I did. But my dad says I'm never to do that again, it's too much like dark magic, and I promised I wouldn't."

"Still . . .I wonder what else you could do with a talent like that?"

Arista looked thoughtful. "I don't know, but . . .maybe someday I could, uh, help your parents. Have they ever been examined by an empath?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so. Why?"

" 'Cause an empath might be able to get past all those barriers in their minds with
the right kind of magic, if she were strong enough and knew what she was doing. My mom was an empath . . .she could track down any dark wizard ever born, no matter what they did to hide from her. She was famous for it. If she were here . . .she could probably help your parents."

Neville sighed sadly. Then he brightened. "Are you an empath too, Arista?"

"I am. But I don't know how to do half the things she could. I can sense other people's emotions and project my own, but I've never tracked anyone down or gone into anyone's head before. Maybe someday though, when I've found the right teacher . . ."

Neville lifted his glass of pumpkin juice. "Here's to someday."

Arista clinked her goblet against his. "To someday, when all things are possible."
Then they drank and in their eyes was hope, hope for a future where truth and justice
would prevail.

* * * * * *

As it turned out, the reason Professor Snape was late for class did indeed have to do
with new information on Nightshade. Colin's contact in the Auror Department had reported seeing a woman matching Nightshade's description entering a shady pub called Crow's Rest around 5PM last evening. Crow's Rest was a known haunt of several wizards of dubious reputation.

Snape immediately volunteered to follow up on the tip that evening, taking Colin
along for backup at the American wizard's insistence. "You don't want to confront her
alone, Severus. She's too dangerous not to take along someone to watch your back, and she's our priority besides."

"Fine. But I want first shot at her, if she's there," Snape insisted.

"Agreed. Now let's go and find this Crow's Rest, before she gets away." Colin said,
frowning in puzzlement. "My Disapparate spell's not working for some blasted reason."

"You can't Disapparate on school grounds, Flynn," Snape reminded him.

"Oh. Forgot about that. Good thing we've got alternate transportation. Fireflash!" the Dark Hunter bellowed.

The bronze appeared in the air above them, then glided down and settled to a landing
in the courtyard, just before the entrance hall. He swiveled his head around to grin at Colin.

"You called, kemo sabe?"

"We need your wings, Flash. There's been a Nightshade sighting."

The dragon bared his fangs. "Hop on then." He lowered his head and looked at
Snape. "Long time no see, Sev. Still remember our last flight?"

"How could I forget?" Snape smiled thinly. "Let's go catch us a necromancer, dragon. We can reminisce later."

"Just tell me where to go, Potions Master," Fireflash huffed, breathing a cone of purple mist over them. He extended a foreleg for them to mount.

They departed the school grounds in a roar of wind, leaving several trees bare of foliage and a decapitated topiary griffin in their wake.

* * * * * *

That evening it began to rain, first a light sprinkle, but after an hour it turned into a
major downpour, coming down in silvery sheets and the wind was blowing like a banshee, whipping the House pennants on the Quidditch pitch to shreds.

Dumbledore, Arista, and Jenna were having dinner at the staff table along with
Professor Trelawney, who announced she'd Seen Arista's arrival at the school a week before in her crystal ball.

"You were wearing the wings of a dragon, child," she proclaimed mysteriously.

"Well, I did come on the back of a bronze dragon," Arista said, uncertain how to react to the owlish Divinations teacher, with her gauzy costumes, thick glasses, and distracted air. She seemed to always be peering at something over your shoulder.
She acts like she's not really here, the girl thought uneasily. Or at least her body's
here, but her mind's off somewhere else. Like maybe another plane of existence. Weird. Gives me the creeps.

Too well-mannered to ever show her unease, Arista smiled politely at Trelawney and began to eat her roast beef and mashed potatoes.

They had just begun on the dessert course, a lovely blueberry pie with whipped
cream, when the door to the hall burst open and Neville rushed in, soaking wet and gasping for breath.

Everyone stared at the boy for a moment.

Then Dumbledore said, "Is there a problem, Neville?"

"Yes, Professor. Hagrid sent me to get Arista. He needs her to heal a mermaid that's
been hurt really bad. Bleeding all over . . .Hagrid can't stop the bleeding . . .she could die . . ."

Arista was on her feet in a flash. "Where is she?" She flung an apologetic glance
at the older wizards. "Excuse me, dinner was great, thanks. Neville, is she by the Black Lake?"

"Yeah. Hagrid's with her with a lamp. I ran all the way here, the wind's too strong to use a broom."

"That's okay, we don't need one." Arista pointed a finger at one of the chairs. "Equus magica!" The chair blurred, becoming a Thoroughbred stallion. "C'mon, Neville!" she cried, mounting the snorting red horse in one easy leap.

"B-but I don't know how to ride!" Neville protested.

"Here," she gestured again, and Neville found himself floating onto the horse's back.
"Just hang on, okay?" Then she dug her heels into the stallion and yelled, "Hee-yah!"
The stallion sprang away like a shot, Neville white-faced and clinging for dear life
to Arista, right through the open hall doors and out into the rainswept night.

The rain was so heavy Arista could barely see three feet in front of her, but luckily,
Hagrid's lantern was so big it could be spotted all the way from the lake.

Arista urged her magic horse towards it at a reckless pace, thanking her lucky stars
she'd taken riding lessons in Texas a year ago at Jenna's insistence. At least she knew how to stay on a horse at a dead run. Poor Neville was bouncing all over the place, shivering and whimpering.

"Grip with your legs, Neville," she called back. "Sit up straight and wrap your legs
around his belly."

"I'm trying, but it's slippery."

"Just do the best you can. And quit squeezing me so hard! I can't breathe."

"Sorry." His hands relaxed a bit, enough so she could get some air in her lungs.

She shifted her weight slightly, her hands wrapped in a death grip on the horse's
mane. "Next time remind me to conjure some tack before I go riding," she said ruefully. "It makes riding ten times easier in the rain."

"Are we there yet?" Neville asked, brushing water out of his eyes.

"Almost. Good thing this isn't a real horse, we'd have broken our necks running like
this in the dark." The gleam of Hagrid's lantern blazed brighter through the lashing curtain of rain.

The magically transfigured steed took the sudden dips in terrain and the wet footing
in stride, bringing them to the edge of the Black Lake in eight minutes, a record no ordinary horse could have equaled.

"Whoa!" Arista ordered, and the horse slid to an abrupt halt. The girl was thrown
forward onto the horse's neck, but managed to keep her seat.

Neville, unprepared for the horse's sudden stop, flew backward over the stallion's
tail and landed with a thump on the soggy ground.

"You okay?" Arista called, sliding off the horse.

"Fine," Neville said shakily, picking himself up.

"Arista? That you, girl?" Hagrid boomed.

"It's me, Hagrid," she answered, stepping into the circle of lantern light.

The big gamekeeper was crouched down at the very edge of the lake, one huge hand
cupping a small form. Pale hair the color of seafoam drifted over Hagrid's fingers, and so did streams of dark green blood. "She's in a bad way, Arista. Somethin' attacked her, she don't know what, an' it tore her up bad . . ."

Arista was at the injured mermaid's side in an instant. "Put her back in the water, Hagrid. She'll dehydrate else," she ordered.

The big man did as she ordered, lowering the nearly comatose mermaid back into the lake. "Now what? You can't get in there, you'll drown with the water this high."

"Good thing I brewed up a Waterbreathing Draft yesterday." Arista said, then
summoned it to her with a snap of her fingers. The aqua bottle appeared in her hand in a blue flash.

She uncorked the stopper and gulped the contents, making a face. "Ugh! Tastes like
dead fish." Then she winced as gills sprouted on either side of her neck. "At least I won't drown though."

She kicked off her shoes and waded into the water. "Ahhh! It's freezing!" her teeth
began to chatter uncontrollably. Don't think about that now. That's not important. Just save the mermaid, she instructed herself firmly, forcing herself to dive straight into the icy water.

The shock made her gasp, it was as if a dozen icy needles stabbed her all at once. She swam out to where Hagrid was holding the mermaid.

Blood was still pumping into the water, she could feel its warmth ooze over her
hands when she grasped the mermaid to her, cradling her in one arm. "I've got her, Hagrid."

The waves bobbed them up and down gently. Then she thrust her consciousness
outward, touching the faint flickering mind of the mermaid. "Shhh. You're going to be
okay, I promise."

"Help me . . .please . . ."

"I am. Now just relax . . ." Arista soothed, releasing the shields over her healing talent.

It came with a swift rush, liquid fire arcing up through her hands and into the
mermaid, outlining the stricken creature with a brilliant corona of fiery white light.
Arista did not know how long she remained in the water, cradling the mermaid,
unmindful of the waves that crashed over them or the rain that pelted down. She was deep into her healing trance, her magic knitting together blood vessels and repairing torn muscles, driving out infection and suturing flesh and scale.

She used some of her power to block the agony the mermaid felt and part of her
empathic talent to soothe away the lingering terror the sea creature projected, a fear of her unknown attacker and the fear that she was dying.

"You're okay now. See, your wound's healed already. You won't die. Look."

Arista removed her hand from the mermaid's side. Where the huge gashes had been
was now only pale green-tinged skin, flecked lightly with scales.

Dazed, the mermaid reached down a webbed hand to touch the place where,
moments before, her life-blood had been seeping out of her. "Healed . . .you have healed me. I owe you a great debt, little wizard. By what name are you called?"

"Snape. Arista Snape."

"Ah. The blessings of the sea upon you, Potion Master's daughter. If ever you need
us, touch the water and call my name. I am Amlioranee." Then she looked up at Hagrid and said, "Release me, gamekeeper, for I am well enough to swim back to my people. Farewell, wizards!"

She gave a great thrust with her tail fin and arced up out over the lake in one
magnificent dive. Then she was gone, swimming deep beneath the storm-wracked waves.

"C'mon, Arista," Hagrid helped her out of the water with one huge hand. "You did
real good, better than Madam Pomfrey even. Now you'd best be gettin' back t'the castle. Take a hot bath and drink somethin' warm then go to bed, before you catch somethin', hear? Your dad'll never forgive me if you took sick. Tol' me to watch out for you, he did."

Arista was shivering so badly she couldn't talk, she heard Hagrid with only half her
brain, the other part was preoccupied with not freezing. The gills she'd grown had vanished as the Waterbreathing Draft wore off. Cold . . .so cold . . .like a block of ice . .. She felt Hagrid place her and Neville on the back of the transfigured chair and give
the horse's rump a smack. "Take 'em home!"

The stallion broke into a run, and Arista wound her chilled hands in its mane and
hung on. They were back in the Great Hall in moments.

As soon as Arista's feet touched the floor, the horse transformed back into a chair,
the spell had reached its time limit of an hour, which was as long as Arista could work it at this stage of her training.

They were greeted by a concerned Dumbledore, Jenna, and surprisingly Colin and
Severus, who had just returned from their search for Nightshade, forced to abandon their quest due to the miserable weather.

Snape stared at his daughter, who resembled a drowned rat, soaked to the skin and
nearly blue with cold, shivering so hard she looked as if she were about to fly to pieces, but with a triumphant gleam in her dark eyes.

"Arista! What in blazes are you doing outside in this weather?" he cried, tearing off
his cloak and wrapping it about her.

"S-she was in the l-lake, P-professor," stuttered Neville, accepting a large towel from
Dumbledore.

"The lake?" Snape repeated, sounding as if he were going to have a coronary. "Why
the bloody hell—"

"I w-was s-saving a mermaid," Arista said, trying to stop shivering so she could talk.
She clutched Snape's cloak tighter to her, it was warm and dry, he must have put a
waterproof spell on it. "I h-had to go, she would have d-died."

"So could you, of pneumonia!" her father snarled, his eyes blazing. "Damn Hagrid!
Wait'll I see that big oaf, I'm going to give him a good piece of my mind, risking my
daughter's life to rescue a mermaid, of all things!"

"It was my choice, sir!" Arista flared, matching him glare for glare. "There's nothing
wrong with what I did. I'm a Healer, it's my job to save people."

"I didn't give my permission for you to go running around saving everyone that
comes begging at the door! You could have died. Look at you! You're practically blue with cold!" He gestured angrily at her, still shivering despite his cloak.

"Lecture her later, Severus Snape," Jenna said firmly, stepping in front of him. "If
she stands here arguing with you any longer, she'll come down with pneumonia for sure. Men!" she shot Snape a frosty glare. "C'mon sweetie, let's get you into a hot bath and bed, I can hear your teeth chattering from here." She put her arm around Arista and led the girl away up the stairs to the prefect's bathroom, leaving Professor Snape fuming silently below them.

An hour later, Arista had soaked away most of the chill in her bones with a hot
bubble bath and a drink of hot chocolate. She was now cozily tucked up in her familiar four poster bed with its green hanging, two comforters over her, wearing a flannel nightshirt and fuzzy woolen socks.

She was feeling extremely sleepy, a bit sore from her ride, and her chest felt heavy.
She coughed sharply, muffling it with a hand. Oh no. I can't get sick. Then Dad'll be mad at Hagrid. I'm so tired . . .all I want is to sleep for a month. If only I could stop coughing.
She covered her mouth with both hands, trying to stem the racking cough.

She heard a tap at her door. "Arista? May I come in?"

"Sure, Dad," she called. It was the first time she'd ever called him that, but it rolled
right off her tongue, she was too tired and too sick to feel awkward about using it.

He blinked at her, startled, but he said nothing, coming swiftly over to stand before
her bed. He was holding a goblet of something steaming in one hand, dressed in his familiar black wizard robes, his hair brushed back over his forehead. His eyes were bright with concern, no longer angry. "How are you feeling? I could hear you coughing all the way down the stairs."

"I'm fine," she protested. "I wasn't in the water that long."

"Nearly an hour, according to Hagrid," he said, moving over to feel her forehead. "Ah, I knew it. You've got a fever."

"Only a little one," she argued feebly.

"Humph!" he snorted. "You're lucky you didn't freeze to death, jumping into that
water dressed in nothing but jeans and a summer T-shirt. What on earth were you thinking?"

"That someone need my help. I'm a Healer, Dad , that's what I do."

"Yes, I know, I heard you quite clearly the first time. But you can heal and exercise
common sense at the same time, can't you?"

"This was an emergency, I didn't have time to put on a wetsuit or whatever. I did
drink a Waterbreathing Draft though. She was bleeding all over, it was all I could do to get there before she bled out and then it would have been too late. Whatever took a bite out of her was big."

She coughed again, unable to hide it.

"All right," he sighed. "Jenna was right, the last thing you need now is me yelling
at you." Then he scowled. "But she's got some nerve, telling me what to do with my own child, honestly!"

"Well, she has been sort of a mother to me for two years," Arista pointed out.

"I see. I suppose I ought to be grateful for that, but you're my daughter, not hers,
when all's said and done." He shook his head abruptly. "Never mind. I've made up a
Decongestion Draft for you, it'll knock that cold and fever out of you and help you sleep."

He held out the goblet.

She took it, sniffing at the contents. "This smells like vinegar."

"Never mind that, just drink it," her father ordered. "Two swallows and it'll be over with."
Arista wrinkled her nose, hesitating, then gave in at his warning look, and took a gulp
of the potion. It tasted as bad as it smelled, but she forced herself to finish it. "That was horrible!"

"Sorry. But it'll help, trust me." He pointed his wand at her nightstand and a glass
of orange-colored juice popped up on it. "Here, drink that pumpkin juice, it'll take the taste away."

Arista gulped down the juice eagerly. "What was in that, anyway?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow," he said, amused, clearly nothing dampened her curiosity for
long. "You'll be asleep before I finish listing everything I put in it." He smiled down at her.

Already her eyes were closing and she felt herself sliding into sleep. Severus tucked
the covers under her chin, then bent and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Arista."

He remained staring down at her, oddly reluctant to leave her. She looked so peaceful sleeping there, like a little child.

But she's not a little child, Severus, his inner voice chided. She's thirteen, almost a young lady. Too old to want a father to protect her. I missed all those other years, her
first word, her first steps, her first day of school . . .So many firsts that I could have shared, but never did, because I never knew . . .Amelia, I wish you had told me . . . then I could have been a real father to her, instead of a stranger.
He sat down in a chair, watching her sleep, thinking wistfully of what might have
been if Amelia had lived, how different all their lives would have been. Almost, he could hear Amelia saying, But you're not a stranger, Sev, you're her father and you love her, whether you knew her from the day she was born or three weeks ago. That's what matters.

And she needs you, she'll always need you, whether or not she admits it.

And I need her, he acknowledged reluctantly. She's all I have. Somehow, I have to
try and keep her safe, because if anything ever happened to her . . .I think I would go mad. He remained there the rest of the night, dozing in fits and starts in the uncomfortable
chair, ever alert to the slightest stirring of the girl in the bed. But Arista remained soundly asleep, not waking once, her breathing deep and even. His potion had worked beautifully, stifling the dreaded congestion before it had begun.

The first hint of dawn brightened the sky when he rose from the chair, stretched
stiffly, and walked over to feel her forehead. Her fever was gone.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he departed, slipping out of the room like a
shadow fleeing the sunlight, to seek his own bed at last.

A/N: Well, what did you think? Is he a good parent or what? And for those of you who're wondering where I got her name--Arista is Greek for "the best" or "highest", I think it's pretty and it fits her and her perfectionist dad, don't you agree?

More coming up--stay tuned--the hunt for Nightshade is on!!