To choose one's friends and foes

Author's Note: To those , who did, thank you for taking your time and writing a review!
Even though he had never met him in person, Severus recognised the man standing in the doorway immediately from illustrations in potions and arithmancy books as well as the gallery of honour for the most accomplished members of Slytherin house: Arthur Dee, the son of Dr. John Dee, who had been a member of Slytherin himself as well as the court wizard and consultant of Queen Elisabeth I., an alchemist, mathematician and astrologer extraordinaire, his son had shared his father's interest in the same field of study mainly focussing on potions though and had been the healer at the court of the Russian tsars. His posture and appearance immediately demanded respect and Severus could not help but feel a bit of reverence in the presence of one of the most famous members of his house.

Faolan's reaction was the complete opposite, with a howl of mad rage he jumped out of his bed disregarding his injuries and turned towards his adversary, anger, hatred and distrust clearly visible in his facial expression and audible in his voice. 'What are you doing here, Dee? Don't your demonic masters provide you with enough entertainment, so that you have to come here and bother us? Get out, or I swear I'll…'

'Silence!' hissed Dee and with a sharp movement of his hand all further words died in the werewolf's throat. Infuriated Faolan lunged forward, but stopped dead in his tracks as the wizard withdrew a silver dagger from a sheath at his belt. Smiling malevolently Arthur Dee took a step towards him and snarled unpleasantly: 'You'd better remember your place, filthy beast, before I see fit to refresh your memory.'

As the werewolf made another move to get towards him in spite of his apprehensibility, while Dee turned halfway towards Severus, the magician whipped around faster than anyone would have anticipated and drove the dagger deeply into the werewolf's chest. With a strangled cry of pain Faolan collapsed and immediately began to writhe on the floor as if he were under the Cruciatus curse, trying to pull the dagger out of his chest, but unable to do so as the silver burned his hands.

Completely unperturbed by the suffering of the other Dee turned around, the cold smile playing around his mouth reminded Severus unpleasantly of the Dark Lord as he had in cold blood ordered Nagini to turn on him. The time for awe has passed now; Dee was not just any Slytherin, but one of the most successful and ruthless ones, and as such even less trustworthy than that moraliser Flamel.

Arthur Dee's tone was almost casual, as if he was talking to an old friend about something as ordinary as the weather and nothing in the world could overshadow their conversation. 'Seeing that you have recognised me already, I suppose it would be unnecessary to introduce myself, but I will do so anyway: I am indeed Arthur Dee, you certainly have heard of me and my father.' Severus nodded carefully; years of dealing with the dark lord had taught him that a moody egocentric narcissist is best treated like a raw egg. His neutral expression hid his thoughts perfectly and just in case he had put up his mental shields as well.

'I'm sure dear Nicolas has presented you his side of the story, how he and his handful of heroes are trying to save the world from all evil. Pity that they don't care much to intervene with the actual everyday problems, like Dark Lords terrorising entire Nations.'

'And I suppose we are to be forever grateful for all the precious help you have provided us unworthy underlings with.' Severus replied silkily, voice dripping with sarcasm. Today seems to be my lucky day, every schemer within a few hundred miles reach seems to be determined to get me on his side. If this was an auction, I'd probably get higher bids than a Picasso.

Dee sniggered unpleasantly, a sound that made the hair of Severus' neck stand on end. 'This is not about what I have done for any side or not, but what I am going to do for you: I will make it easier for you to see, what kind of man Nicolas Flamel is. This is after all what a short while ago you wanted to know from this worthless creature.' Dee sent a disdainful glare at the werewolf on the floor, who was gasping in pain. 'For he is indeed, who he claims to be, even though I share your disappointment over his alchemical skills, he was always more of a scribe and philosopher, than a true scientist, like you and me.' Arthur Dee was smiling a crooked smile that was probably meant to be agreeable. Don't even try it! I have seen far too much between heaven and earth to fall for such blunt attempts of flattery.

'Flamel has put much effort into translating texts, eager to draw out spells that had not been used in this world for centuries. More and more he became obsessed with these spells, as well as the languages and cultures that were closely connected to what he found in the book. He did not hesitate to try out spells the effects of which he did not know in the least. I am sure a man of your education knows of the Great Fire of London, no one knows however that it was hallowed Nicolas Flamel, who had caused it, while experimenting with a newfound spell in his London flat.' The mentioning of messing around with unknown spells brought up unwanted memories that Severus quickly quenched by concentrating on keeping his mind clear.

'And how would you have come by that little piece of information? Considering that you should have been dead by then for 15 years it is indeed an accomplishment.' Severus interjected silkily. Arthur Dee smiled smugly, before he answered.

'I would have thought that it was obvious that I have come up with a method to avoid death and the struggle of old age in a way similar to Flamel's. I'll come back to my relation to him soon. First know that he has always engaged in the let's say more doubtful magical disciplines, like necromancy, summoning all kinds of magical creatures or scrying just to list a few, even though he does not mention that frequently it, as it would not fit the image of the noble fender for the greater good.' – Severus breath caught in his throat for a moment at these words and inwardly he shuddered at the word. But either Dee had not noticed or not brought up these words purposefully to draw him out, as he continued unperturbed. – 'Flamel has meddled in all these disciplines and more than once blamed his own failures on the so-called demons that he claims to fight. When he learned his own limitations in some of the fields, he wanted to selectively hire talented wizards and sometimes witches, but the latter were usually far too deeply bonded with their families to commit themselves to Flamel's rigid decree of secrecy, which mainly serves his purpose to have will-less slaves at his disposal.

At first he aimed for the best of the best, he even approached my father and me, when he learned that we possessed a formula for an anti aging potion, different from his own, but when he realised that people that he did not have leverage over were less than perfects puppets in his game, he soon turned to picking out the outcasts with nothing left to lose such as this.' Even though Dee pointed at the werewolf, Severus heard the unspoken implication and seethed with anger, though he was not sure whether to direct it more towards Flamel or Arthur Dee.

Looking at the werewolf he realised that Faolan had become quite pale by now; even though the wound did not bleed much Severus knew that the silver had the effect of scorching the wound on the outside, while the poison got into his bloodstream slowly. If the dagger was not pulled out soon, Faolan would die. Rationally considered that thought should not affect him as much as it did, after all he had seen so many people be tortured and killed in front of him that he had not cared to keep count of them and almost always had avoided to show even the slightest emotion.

What truly disturbed Severus was the fact that no one came to check on them, there was after all an unwanted intruder in what was most likely Flamel's headquarter; did the man's incompetence know no bounds?Or do these presumptuous fools feel so secure that they think they do not even require wards? Maybe Dee had created such an effective distraction that no one had the chance to come here and check on them, given his reputation told by Slytherin house chronicles that possibility was not completely unlikely.

Quickly considering his options it became clear to him that he was almost out of them, the main problem being that he had no wand and none was nearby. Even though he could manage some wandless incantations, he had just one chance to catch Dee by surprise and take him out, before the other could retaliate and then had the clear advantage of fighting against an unarmed man. No, after all I'm not a bloody Gryffindor to risk my neck so recklessly, when all odds are against me. So the only option left was talking his way out of it and waiting for the other to make a mistake or help to arrive.

'I can't believe you're here out of pure goodness of heart to prevent a fellow Slytherin to fall into the clutches of Flamel; that would be far too selfless for someone as cunning as you are. What is it you want from me?'

'We want you to join the right side in this struggle.' – this sounded far too familiar, just why was it always him who was stuck between the fronts?

'So, you want me to join a hoard of mythological monsters, who have been terrorising people for ages in order to get what exactly in return?', he growled at the other rather unpleasantly.

'Now, now that's just Flamel's superstition and lack of knowledge. These are life forms that have been formerly worshipped as gods, they are powerful, but civilised and they have style, certainly more than this gang of rundown halfwits. Do you know what it is like to sit down with the Egyptian goddess Isis for a cup of tea?'

'I do not know, but I'm sure it is an unparalleled delight.' Snape's sarcasm dampened Dee's enthusiasm not in the least.

'Do not joke at such matters,' he reprimanded. 'They can give you power, knowledge or whatever you strive for, as they have for ages. Once they have taken over and humankind is reigned as it should be by respect for nature and magic that muggles have lost so long ago, in other words by wizards with the sense of responsibility and strictness required for such a deed, the followers of now will be the governors of the future, while their enemies will be crushed by the gods' proverbial wrath.'

Severus arched an eyebrow and replied sardonically: 'And what would you or your otherworldly masters wish in return for such a gracious gift, nothing short of my unwavering loyalty and undying servitude I suppose. With or without a death sentence looming over my head from requiring aforementioned elixir?' Not to mention that I could not imagine the Slytherin-run company Dee & Son to share any bit of power, if they can help it.

Just as Dee drew breath to give a lengthy reply, the werewolf, who was still struggling on the floor, made a soft whimper of pain. This seemed to bring Dee back to reality and apparently he considered that his time was running out now, as he withdrew a small phial from his robes and stepped closer to Severus extending it.

'This is a sample from our 'Immortality Elixir', it's also a portkey that will take you to our headquarters; all you have to do is touch it.' The time to act was now or never. With a quick wave of his left hand, Severus sent the bedside table skidding into Dee, who stumbled backwards with a grunt of pain. Voices could now be heard in the corridor and Dee was looking frantically at the door before turning his dark look back on Snape. Unperturbed by the accusing look Severus snarled at him unpleasantly: 'When you came here to hire me for whatever cause, you forgot one very important thing: I do not sell myself out so easily; especially not to power-hungry Slytherins, who have sold out their souls centuries ago. I should congratulate you though; you have convinced me that yours is not only the side not to join, but also worth fighting against,' he growled in a fierce voice that made the man on the floor flinch. Changing to a silkier and more sarcastic tone he added: 'Send my kindest regards to your masters, will you. You should never fall from the grace of the godscompletely after all.'

Arthur Dee looked like he was about to commit a murder here and now, but thought better of it. 'So you have made your choice. I warn you, who is not with us, is against us. You will regret this, Severus Snape,' he spat before activating the portkey and disappearing. To set up wards against portkeys would apparently be far too much to expect from Flamel & Co., not that this should be surprising, as they could not even keep people that were far from welcome from strutting into their headquarters on foot.

Immediately Severus sat up, knowing that the injured werewolf on the floor was running out of time, every second could now make the difference between his life and death. Though he was neither the empathic kind of man, leaving someone to die, when he knew he had a chance to make a difference would just weigh too heavy on his conscience, even though it meant saving a werewolf he barely even knew.

But Snape had not been on his feet, since he had been injured and his circulation reminded him of that fact instantly. Dizzy and swaying on his legs like a drunk he dragged himself towards Faolan using the bedpost as support. When he fell to his knees beside the man, Severus' eyes automatically took in the other's condition, while his mind already started planning his course of action. The wolf's hands were swollen and red from his futile attempt to pull out the dagger and his chest looked even worse as it was not only red, but also showed dark lines under his skin, where arteries lay that were transporting the poisoned blood into every last part of his body. With one swift movement Severus pulled out the dagger and immediately the wound started bleeding. The more it bleeds, the better; blood can be replenished easily with the aid of potions, but the poison had to get out of the body. Just where is a bloody wand, when you need one!

With a loud crash 2 men burst through the door, both wearing equally fierce expressions of warriors expecting a harsh fight. As soon as they saw the dark haired wizard kneeling besides their injured companion with a blooded dagger in his hand, not jumping to rash conclusions was out of question. The taller of the two threw himself at Severus with a roar of hatred and practically hauled him to his feet, but did not stop until he had Snape pinned against the wall with a wand tip pressed against his neck. Blue eyes were gazing at him with loathing, as the brute shouted: 'I knew it. Once a murderer, always a murderer! What was Nicolas thinking, leaving Faolan with a bloodthirsty werewolf hater in a room?'

Now equally infuriated at not only being falsely accused of, but also at the sheer ignorance to rather conduct revenge than save someone's life – that must be a streak common to all self announced paladins – Severus growled back: 'I was trying to help him; unlike you, who'd rather let him die and take revenge for that death than bend a finger in his aid.'

He could actually hear his shoulder joint snap, as the brute shoved him against the wall violently. So much for the gratitude of your newly chosen allies, but I should not be that surprised after the complete lack of it from all my past companions in arms.

The other man, a short, tanned and slender figure, now knelt down beside the groaning werewolf, but Severus could tell from the look on his face that he was completely at a loss, when it came to healing tasks. 'You have to give him an infusion of Sodium chloride!' When he saw the other's confused expression, he added: 'Just dissolve ordinary table salt in water!'

'How do we know that won't kill him, Poison master?' the brute growled.

'Oh, there is absolutely no need for you to believe me. Just lean back and watch as the silver that's already in his blood kills him in front of your eyes. That will surely be a balm for your conscience,' Snape sneered back.

To the other, who was mixing the salt in water, he advised: 'If you give him that, you have to speak the correct spell to remove the salts that coagulate from his veins, or he'll die of a heart attack.'

The annoyed man snapped at him: 'You do it, if you're so clever.'Now or never.

Using his sweetest tone of voice, while making every single word drip with poison, he answered: 'I'd love nothing more than to do this rather sooner than later, as soon as you give me a wand, so that I can perform the incantation.'

As the one restraining him wanted to protest, the shorter one quickly interjected: 'Release him. Nicolas is sure, he is on our side.' Only now did Severus realise how much the other's grip had actually supported him, as his knees began to buckle and he almost collapsed, being caught by the same brute's grip on his arm. Both stepped towards the werewolf and his helper, who now held out his wand with its handle pointed towards Severus. 'You may use my wand.'

The incantation was quickly performed and fairly easy to manage for someone, who knew the desired effect as well as a potion master. To pacify the still frowning leagues' men, he gave them a short explanation of the process: 'The chloride binds to the silver in the bloodstream and thus inactivates it and keeps it from poisoning him. That's rather basic knowledge in my field of study. The coagulated silver chloride has then to be removed from his body, before any arteries are clogged.'

Quickly the deathly greyish colour of the werewolf's skin turned into the usual pallor of a person that had lost as much blood as he had. Despite the relief he felt at the recovery of his patient he just could not help but sneer at the two men unpleasantly: 'Now, gentlemen. As we have seen how far-reaching the foundation of trust within your league is, you'd better feed him the required blood replenishing potion yourselves, lest I poison him with one of the dark substances I have up the sleeve of my hospital gown.'

The shorter one immediately hurried to the shelf containing all kinds of flasks and phials, likely containing the standard healing potions required in the infirmary, and after scanning the labels for a while came back with a phial in his hand. Even though the label was correct, Snape checked the potion by smelling at it, before pouring it down the werewolf's throat. The change was even more obvious this time, Faolan looked almost healthy as the brute levitated him back onto his bed.

With his hand visibly shaking from the adrenaline overflow in his system paired with pure exhaustion Severus gave back the borrowed wand, reluctantly however, as he was fully aware that he just handed over his only weapon. If the brute decided to return to his previous point of the argument that had only been postponed, but not settled, he was completely defenceless, a state he utterly loathed. Although he was aware that in his current state he would not stand much of a chance against the man anyway, even less the two of them together, it would be better than surrendering to Flamel without any sort of resistance or leverage.

Thinking it over, he realised that he had more chance to put pressure on Flamel than ever before, since he had been provided with the biased, but nonetheless interesting information by his newly chosen enemy Arthur Dee himself. Smirking a bit more contently than before Severus settled down on his own bed again, to which the smaller wizard had supported him. Come to help him indeed Dee had, even though in a different way than intended; if he did not use that opportunity, Salazar himself would start rotating in the grave. Plotting and scheming was after all a game that became the more interesting the more people participated.