disclaimer: not mine, no money, and the title is stolen from a 70's ice lolly by Lyons.

thanks to my fabulous betas, hypnotic .ink and Alabaster Princess

4 Mr Merlin's Magic Purple Potion

Christmas holidays came and went by. Severus stayed at Hogwarts because Christmas with his family was not a pleasurable, joyful event as it was in other families. Sooner or later his father would drink himself into a stupor and start shouting, enraged by something. It could be anything, really. The news on TV, the ranking of his favourite football club, or just a wrong word. It was easy to say a wrong word when father was drunk; sometimes it was merely the fact that he existed that got him upset. Freak, he called him- just like Petunia- and that was still the nicest thing. It got worse after that. His parents would have shouting matches, followed by violence. Then they made up again.

Severus could hear that, the grunting noises behind closed doors, and he always had his door locked. It was always wiser to have the door locked when father was drunk. No, he clearly didn't miss going home. He missed Lily, though. It would have been perfect, spending Christmas at Hogwarts with Lily. Alas, she went home because her family did have these joyful, harmonious Christmases. She even said she missed her sister, which was utterly incomprehensible to him.

So he spent most of his Christmas holidays in the library, reading. No Potter or Black was lurking round the corner. Lupin's mother was ill (again), so he had left earlier. It was a good Christmas. Lily had even given him a small gift that he had carefully unwrapped on Christmas morning, to find a pretty new quill. It was the best present he had ever gotten.

Severus didn't need the Muggle dunghill that his home was; he didn't need the whole ruddy Muggle world at all. He was happy at Hogwarts, and Madam Pince- the stern librarian- had even allowed him an extra hour in the library. Although she insisted on strict rules to protect her precious books from students (sometimes she put nasty spells on them to make sure they're returned on time) she knew that Severus shared her love for books. He treated them with the respect they deserved and seemed to treasure them more than people, almost as much as she did. Of course, there were exceptions that proved this rule, and her exception on Christmas was the slightly cantankerous caretaker, Argus Filch.

*

Winter turned to spring, the days were getting longer. The last snow began to thaw as the still pale sun dispelled the frost, and nature came to life again. All of a sudden, blotches of fresh green grass could be seen everywhere, freckled with the pure white of snowdrops. A mild breeze was in the air and the trees were budding just like the feelings of the older students. It seemed as if a serious case of hormonal outburst held Hogwarts in its grip, running rampant throughout the castle until it reached its peak around Valentine's Day. That day, the Great Hall was decorated with pink hearts and cute little cupids; students were caught snogging in every corner of Hogwarts.

The notorious Gryffindor pranksters, however, were not in a romantic mood. For eleven-year-old boys all those pink hearts and cupids held a high ick factor, and besides, it was so much more fun to drop dungbombs next to the snogging couples. The way they stopped slobbering over each other and drove apart, disgust written on their faces because they believed their sweethearts were responsible for that putrid odour- it was simply hilarious. Especially since Peeves the Poltergeist seemed to have composed a hymn for that occasion.

'Slobbery slobbery slob, they kiss till they drop,

lips so sweet, but then they reek,

ooh it's so kinky, my sweetheart is stinky,' he sang, much to Filch's dismay.

The caretaker had a very hard time chasing the troublemakers that day, and he very nearly suffered a stroke when he noticed his beloved cat, Mrs Norris, dangling in midair on the bow of a little cupid, meowing pitifully. He jumped up and down, trying to get a hold of her, but alas, she was out of reach. Oh, how he wished he could quarter and feather and beat the hell out of the students responsible for that affront! It didn't improve the situation that Peeves was snickering maliciously, teasing him mercilessly. Finally, dear Madam Pince was decent enough to release Mrs Norris from her unfortunate position by using a simple spell and soon after, his poor kitty was back in his arms. Immediately, he set out to punish the evildoers but failed to catch them due to Dumbledore's intervention; the Headmaster was of the opinion that no detentions should be handed out on Valentine's Day. And Mrs Norris was fine, wasn't she?

Filch longed for the good old days when he was allowed to hang naughty students by their wrists or ankles from the ceiling. He still kept the chains well oiled and polished, but unfortunately Headmaster Dumbledore refused to let him use them.

***

Of all the things Raven hated most at Hogwarts (and there were quite a few), flying lessons were on top of her list. Fortunately, there had been none in winter, but as the days were getting warmer, her least favourite class was back on schedule.

Her first attempt at riding a broomstick had ended with a broken arm and an overnight stay at the hospital ward- thanks to Potter. He had taunted her mercilessly that day; she could still hear him chanting, 'Fat crows can't fly, fat crows can't fly!'

And he had been right, she really couldn't fly. Actually, Raven didn't even want to fly a stupid broomstick.

It was a bright and sunny day when all the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors were assembled on the grounds, listening to Madam Hooch, their flying instructor.

"Today, we will learn the basics of Quidditch," she announced, much to the loud cheers and hoorays of the students. They thought that a splendid idea.

Raven, however, begged to differ. Longingly she glanced to the shore of the lake, sparkling in the sunshine, and wished she could simply sit under one of the trees there, reading a book. But no, she would have to participate in that Quidditch bullshit.

Madam Hooch opened a box and produced a round red leather ball. "This is a Quaffle," she explained. "It is the ball with which the Chasers score goals, and it has to be thrown and caught one-handed. We will now form teams of four and train the catching and throwing of the Quaffle, without losing control over our broomsticks. I insist that you give it a nice and slow approach. I don't want to see any hazardous actions. Is that understood?"

Raven groaned inwardly. As if simply staying on a flying stick of wood wasn't already hazardous enough without having to catch or throw a stupid ball... she really was not fond of wizarding sports and hardly ever watched a Quidditch match, although that was the main attraction at Hogwarts on weekends.

"Now please mount your brooms- and don't forget that some of us aren't as skilled flyers as others are," Madam Hooch's yellow, hawk-like eyes shot a warning glance in Potter's direction before they came to rest at Raven, showing displeasure. In all of her years as a flying instructor at Hogwarts, she had never met a student so totally ungifted.

It took Raven several attempts before the broom assigned to her jumped into her hand. It was probably just as unwilling as she was.

"Do not rise higher than ten feet!" Madam Hooch cried when Potter was once again showing off with his skills, criss-crossing the airspace above the grounds at full speed, spiralling upwards with obvious joy. He was a superb flyer. The flying instructor couldn't help but smile at his antics and thought he would be a great enrichment for next year's Gryffindor Quidditch team. "Mr Potter!" she called out, "would you please be so kind and return immediately!"

Potter whooshed back to the grounds and made an elegant landing next to his best mate, Sirius Black.

"Seriously, these school brooms suck! They're lousy compared to my Nimbus 1001- I still don't get why we're not allowed to bring our own brooms..."

"Because, Mr Potter, all first-years are to have the same equipment, and therefore the same chance to shine," Hooch reminded him. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with a solid Silver Arrow- I first learned to fly on one of them."

"That just proves how ancient they are," whispered Potter, elbowing Black. Both boys chuckled quietly, mischief sparkling in their eyes as they cast a surreptitious glance at the box holding more that just the Quaffle they were to train with.

It didn't go as bad as Raven had feared- at least she managed to stay on her broomstick- and she was in a team with Lily Evans, her Gryffindor friend Mary MacDonald, and Severus Snape. Snape was always at Lily's side, even if that earned him glances of disapproval from his fellow house mates who thought it disgraceful for a Slytherin to associate with Mudbloods. Now Mulciber and Avery were laughing because he was playing with girls. In their eyes that said a lot about him; there was a reason why there were no girls in the Slytherin Quidditch team.

At first, the very idea of lifting one of her tightly cramped hands from the handle of her broom in order to catch the Quaffle was a real challenge to Raven, who already thought it a challenge to not lose balance while hovering ten feet above the ground with only a stick of wood between her and the abyss.

'Don't look down, don't look down,' she kept telling herself, repeating it like a mantra. Then the Quaffle came flying in her direction, thrown softly by Lily Evans. Raven merely had to raise her hand and- gotcha! She caught it! A broad smile lit up her features, and for a short moment she really felt great. Happily, she forwarded the Quaffle, throwing it in an almost graceful arch to Severus, who had no problem catching it.

But good moments never lasted forever, and after that she ran out of luck. Not only that the fluency of the game seemed to cease each time she missed the Quaffle and it fell to the ground- which resulted in the others excluding her more and more- all of a sudden her broom started to act strangely. It misbehaved like a shying horse, bucking, and then gaining speed as it shot upwards. Raven screamed as she clutched onto the handle for dear life.

"Miss Lestrange!" Madam Hooch shouted. "Come down immediately!"

Easier said than done, since Raven had absolutely no control over her broomstick- as if it had developed a life of its own. But that wasn't possible. Even in her dazed and terrified state of mind, she knew that. This led to the only logical conclusion that someone must have hexed her broom, but that realisation didn't really solve her dilemma either. Although knowledge in general was a wonderful thing, it wasn't particularly constructive to know what was wrong if you couldn't change it. And Raven was much too busy with clinging onto her jinxed broomstick in order to not fall to her certain death, than to come up with the proper counter spell.

Fortunately, Madam Hooch didn't take long to realize her problem. The flying instructor raised her wand and aimed it at Raven's broom, muttering an incantation. Raven didn't hear it, but she could feel its effects almost immediately. She sensed a whizzing of magical energy in the air around her and suddenly she regained control over her broom. Slowly, it was spiralling towards the ground.

Some kids were laughing at her clinging to her broomstick like a wet wheat bag, and that sort of undid her. Raven made a decision born out of embarrassment, mingled with a defiant outburst of anger- and madness. In hindsight, it was definitely not her wisest decision, but she was determined and she'd so had it with Potter's stupid pranks! Someone had jinxed her broomstick and although she couldn't prove it she just knew it had been Potter.

Since she was considered a lousy flyer anyway, Raven decided to show off with her clumsiness. No one would think it deliberate if she knocked Potter off his broom on her way down. Hopefully, she could also kick that arrogant smile out of his face.

"She attacked me!" Potter cried out as he stumbled to his feet, holding his broomstick in his hands and pointing accusingly at Raven, who hadn't endured their collision just quite as well as he had. She was clutching her arm and given the already familiar pain shooting through it, she knew it was broken again. Nevertheless, she was feeling jubilant- almost jauntily- because she had succeeded; she had knocked Potter off his broom.

"Don't be absurd, Mr Potter," Madam Hooch chided him before she called for someone to fetch Poppy Pomfrey, the school nurse, "We both know that Miss Lestrange is a lousy flyer- and even that is an understatement- therefore we will mark off this unfortunate incident as for what it actually was. An accident."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Raven saw Severus Snape quirk an astonished brow.

"It was however no accident that caused Miss Lestrange's broomstick to go wild," Madam Hooch continued, looking into the faces of her students. Most of them had dismounted their brooms and were standing in a circle around Raven, but only Lily looked slightly sympathetic.

Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey had arrived and started fussing over Raven. "Oh dear, what happened to you now, you poor thing?"

"Fat crows can't fly, fat crows can't fly," someone in the background chanted.

Madam Hooch glanced sternly at Potter and Black, the two biggest troublemakers Hogwarts had seen in a long time- but they masked their faces with an expression of pure innocence. They were too clever, anyway, to tease another student right in front of a teacher.

No, it was Peter Pettigrew who had chanted. He wasn't very funny himself but liked to repeat everything Potter said, the perfect lickspittle of the greatest bully. Raven had recognized his voice despite the pain she was in.

But a fracture was no problem in the wizarding world. A broken bone could be fixed with a spell quite easily, and the proper potion would take away the pain. Nevertheless, Raven would have to stay in the infirmary overnight- and that was probably the best part of her mishap. Unlike other students, she was glad to not have to return to her dormitory and therefore to the other Slytherin girls of her year. Shallow, arrogant bitches- the whole lot of them.

*

Potter almost yawned when Madam Hooch held a speech about the dangers of hexing a broomstick and what could have happened to Lestrange if she hadn't intervened- as if it wasn't common knowledge that Quidditch was a dangerous game and yet all decent wizarding folks loved it. No risk, no fun. Smirking slightly, he surreptitiously cast a quick glance at Sirius who was momentarily sneaking up to the box that held more balls than just the Quaffles they had played with, since there were also some other balls used in a Quidditch game. Like the Golden Snitch, a tiny, enchanted ball with wings. It was the most important ball of the match, as it decided upon victory or defeat, and it was the Seeker's job to catch it.

James hoped for Sirius to release the Golden Snitch, so that he could rise up in the air and catch it, proving what a superb flyer he was. But Sirius smirked mischievously and undid the straps that held a Bludger. Then he ducked behind the lid of the box, watching a jet black ball rising high in the air, hovering over the box for a moment- before it zoomed off to attack the nearest person. Because that's what Bludgers did. They were designed to attack and to hit the players of the opposite team, causing them to fall off their brooms.

Naturally, a Bludger was the most dangerous ball of all of them, and once released, chaos ensued. Girls were screaming, running for cover, while Madam Hooch was trying to shout the mayhem down, barking orders for everyone to stay cool as she grabbed a Beater's bat in order to prevent further injuries in her class.

Now that was fun! James laughed as he watched the pandemonium, soon being joined by Sirius who had made his way back to his best mate's side. With arms wrapped around the other one's shoulder they watched and laughed, ducking their heads when the Bludger came shooting in their direction. A previously boring lesson had turned exciting.

*

"Get down!" Severus yelled at Lily as he saw the Bludger whoosh in her direction, and he knew he had to protect her. He drew his wand and aimed it at the jet black ball. "Impedimenta!"

The Bludger slowed down and fell to the ground. Madam Hooch hurried over to secure it.

"Well done, Mr Snape," she said.

"Oooh... Snivellus the slimy little hero," Potter and Black chuckled, laughing mischievously.

Severus whirled around, wand at the ready, anger flaring up in his dark eyes. Of course, these brawny Gryffindor bullies would find pleasure in this mayhem- perhaps they had even provoked it? Potter's dim-witted little brain might think it funny if others got hurt, as long as he was having a good laugh, and he never thought about the consequences of his actions. What if Lily had been injured by the Bludger?

He shot a Stinging Hex at them. Needless to say, they struck back. Potter cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx while Black tried it with Tarantellagra, but fortunately, Madam Hooch interfered. Otherwise Severus would have been forced to do a mad dance with wobbly legs.

"No hexing in my class! Mr Potter, Mr Black, Mr Snape. That's ten points from each of you. But, Mr Snape, since you managed to stop the Bludger-" Oh dear, the Bludger! She had not secured it properly because her students had started hexing each other, and she'd had to intervene. It was back up in the air, ready to strike again. And it had already found a new target.

Severus could see something jet black and dangerous approaching him. Although he tried to leap aside, he wasn't fast enough and it hit him hard, knocking off his legs from under him- if almost felt as if his knees had turned to mash. Then a sudden surge of pain shot through him; he didn't know where it began or where it ended, and he bit his lips in order to not scream, to not give Potter and Black another reason to laugh, or tease him... and yet he couldn't stop that pathetic little whimper from escaping his lips. Then everything went black.

From a very, very far distance, Severus could hear Lily's voice. He really wanted to open his eyes and look at her, telling her not to worry... but he found even thinking of this little effort much too arduous and besides, the very idea of lifting his eyelids sent another wave of pain through his body...

Madam Pomfrey was furious. Not at him- no, no. She was never angry at him, no matter how often he had made his way to the infirmary these past months. Instead, she was chiding Madam Hooch for not taking her obligatory supervision more seriously and how dare she let two severe accidents happen in one class!

"Poor lad," she mumbled softly to Severus, and for an instant he felt all light as if he was flying... but he wasn't. He was only being levitated from the ground to a stretcher. At any other occasion he would have considered that mightily embarrassing, but right now he was in too much pain to think clearly. And still he had no idea of what had happened to him. He could have tried to focus on the source of his pain to realize that his right knee was shattered, but he wasn't that tough. Although he often pretended to be, in the end he was just a scared and injured twelve year old boy.

Madam Pomfrey fed him a painkiller potion the moment they arrived at the Hospital Wing, and while Severus drifted in and out of unconsciousness- or semi-consciousness- the matron contemplated what to do with him. His kneecap was badly shattered, and although she was certain she could fix that, there was still another option. Perhaps it would be better to simply remove the shattered pieces and regrow the kneecap.

Severus gasped when Madam Pomfrey directed her wand at his knee, because whatever spell she used caused an unpleasant sensation. Then, all of a sudden, the pain stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief before he noticed that his leg didn't feel quite like his leg anymore. There was still his thigh and his lower leg with his foot (he could even wriggle his toes) but they felt strangely unconnected...

"Drink that, my dear boy," Madam Pomfrey said softly and yet with a voice that wouldn't allow any protest. She held a bottle to his mouth; it was labelled 'Skele-Gro' and was a vile-tasting potion. "Of course, you'll have to stay the night but you're in good company."

She glanced at the bed next to Severus' where another problem child of hers was sleeping, little Raven Lestrange, and she tutted about dangerous sports and teachers who were inapt in keeping their charges safe.

*

Severus woke in the middle of the night to the light of a full moon falling in through the windows, illuminating the infirmary in sharp, eerie patterns of brightness and shadows, and almost instantly, he let out a choked yelp of pain. If he had been unaware of his surroundings at first, he now remembered everything that had transpired because the pain in his leg reminded him of it.

He also noticed that he wasn't alone. Severus heard the rustling of bedclothes, and then shuffling footsteps were approaching him. He fumbled for his wand. Usually, he kept it under his pillow for the night, but it wasn't there! Then he remembered that he wasn't in his own bed in the Slytherin dungeons but in the Hospital Wing, and finally his searching fingers closed around his wand resting on the bedside table. Grabbing it tightly, he sat up, muttering a soft 'Lumos' before aiming it at the person invading his privacy. He came face to face with a smiling Raven Lestrange.

"Hello," she said, apparently not the slightest bit perturbed by the wand pointed at her face.

"What do you want?" Severus hissed.

"I... I heard you move and wanted to know- how are you?"

"I'm fine."

She stared down at him, knowing he was lying. "No. You're not. You're hurt, and you're lonely, and you're in pain."

"I'm not," he huffed, wishing she'd just leave him alone.

"Well, I'm not gonna argue with you," she said a tad loftily, but still with that annoying smile on her face. What had he done to deserve this?

"Anyway, I came to offer you an ice lolly."

"A what?"

Lestrange rolled her eyes before repeating, "An ice lolly."

And then she held a wrapped and decidedly frozen something- he could feel the chill radiating from it- under his nose. It smelled vaguely of berries, though it was sort of an artificial aroma. It reminded him of his childhood, of cheap ice cream on a hot summer's day, and he wasn't certain if he really liked that. Meanwhile, Lestrange babbled on.

"… made of fruit juice and something with many 'Es', but the funny thing is that this sort is called Mr Merlin's Magical Purple Potion by its Muggles distributors, and although most Muggles have no clue about the wizarding world, my Mum thought it amusing enough to bring me some when she came to visit, and of course she put a Stasis Charm on them to keep them frozen until you eat them."

"Great," Severus muttered, feeling slightly overtaxed by her antics. He'd never cared much about her- and yet she was being very nice to him. There had to be a snag in it, he thought suspiciously, staring at the ice lolly she had placed in his hands. It couldn't harm to try it, could it?

Only a moment later he was licking sweet fruity juice off his lips, still wondering about Raven Lestrange. What was in for her by sharing her sweets with him?

"She also left you a Get Well card and some fruits."

"Who?"

"My Mum. I told you she came to visit when she heard of my accident."

She really was a pampered little girl. So she hurt her arm a little, and at once mummy came rushing to her side. But why would her mother leave a Get Well card for me? Severus pondered. He didn't even know Mrs Lestrange and had only seen her once, at the platform, talking to his mother... it was true, though. There was a card on his bedside table- actually even two- and a bowl with fruits.

"The other's from Lily. She wanted to stay a little longer, but Madam Pomfrey sent her away, saying you needed your rest. Lily said she was quite proud of you for managing to stop that Bludger, but she also thought it very stupid of you to start hexing Potter and Black. Well, I wished I had seen that."

"Did Madam Pomfrey give you a Babbling Brew?" Severus interjected, since he had never heard Lestrange talking that much. And he wasn't really interested in what she had to say- although, it was good to know that Lily had come to see him, and that she had given him a Get Well card.

Raven chuckled. "There isn't anything like a Babbling Brew. You know, you're really funny sometimes, Sev."

"My name's Severus."

"I know."

She sat down on his bed. That girl had nerves! At least she was careful to not come too close to his hurting knee, nevertheless he winced. Why wouldn't she leave him alone?

"It'll get better- the pain, I mean. And in the morning your knee will be as good as new."

Provided she'd just let me sleep...

"You know, Sev, it could have ended worse. We both know it was not by accident what happened to us, and- as it seems- bullying has a long tradition here at Hogwarts. There has even been murder, my friend Myrtle told me and I guess she must know best..."

"Myrtle? As in Moaning Myrtle?"

Raven nodded.

"You're friends with a pathetic ghost?"

"Well, most of the ghosts are actually much nicer that the living guys."

Why was he feeling slightly guilty now? Severus didn't care about Raven Lestrange at all, and he didn't regret all the times he had shoved her away or pulled the chair from under her arse. She was annoying- and yet it didn't happen often that people were being nice to him for apparently no reason at all. Maybe he should try to be more agreeable towards her? He knew it would please Lily if he made friends with others than just her- but Lestrange of all people? She was the most pathetic and least popular girl at Hogwarts. On the other hand, she also seemed to be quite a warm-hearted person, the way she picked up the bowl of fruits, offering him some strawberries. Severus was very confused, and due to the potions he had been fed with, he wasn't able to think clearly either.

"Anyway," Raven continued, "I heard that Potter and Black got off lightly for their assault on us- two weeks of detention with Filch, doing ridiculous things like polishing the silver in the trophy room without magic. Mum was furious when she heard my version of the story, and she went to talk to the Headmaster, but he just said something about boys being boys and that it was just a harmless prank that got out of control. Apparently Dumbledore dotes upon them because they're Gryffindors, and he was a Gryffindor himself. There's nothing we can do about it. We just have to be careful and hope to not end up like poor Myrtle."

No, Severus thought, he would not just hope to not get killed- he would fight back. He would learn as many spells as he could, or even invent some new ones, but he would not let those Gryffindor bullies rule his life at Hogwarts. After all, it was better that his life at home, and he already dreaded having to go back there for the summer holidays.

"We could try to get them expelled," he suggested, not knowing why he said 'we' as if they were friends.

Her eyes lit up. She had blue eyes- a very warm shade, although blue was not a warm colour, yet it reminded him of the sky on a hot summer day. And there was an unexpected sparkle of mischief in them that surprised him. Was he underestimating her? Was there more to her than just a pampered little girl?

But no, he heard her sigh and it sounded beaten. No more sparks in her eyes.

"The one who caused Myrtle's death didn't get expelled either." She got up and shuffled to her own bed. "Good night, Severus. You need to sleep."

"Good night, Lestrange," Severus mumbled confused.

thanks for reading. Please review! Feedback is the writer's ambrosia...