A/N: Hello. Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers and all you dears who have put this story on their "alert list". They could review too. ;)

Here's the next instalment. So yeah, I know, not that science-fictioney, but hey, I'm a novice.

Enjoy. – Isa

Chapter three – " Are you a murderer?"

Snape wasn't fond of drink. So drinking himself into oblivion was not an option. He had stared at the image on his screen for an hour or so, his mind battling against itself to decide if he was going mad or not.

Snape had then stretched out on the floor of his lab and closed his eyes, thinking that if he was dreaming, it would just be a matter of waking up in the very same position in his bed. Unless of course he hadn't come out of his last Lovex trip and only dreamt the whole thing.

After several minutes on the cold hard and perfectly antiseptic floor, Snape decided that he was indeed awake and so was forced to take in all the strange things that had happened so far. He got up and went to the shelf labelled "stimulants" and randomly picked a pill from a jar. He now wished more than ever for the coffee machine he had been planning to install some day or other.

The pill made him feel lighter and made his mind more agile. 'Think' he said to himself. Remus Lupin, a white crow that thought it was black and had flown near Hogwarts, or at least some building that strongly resembled it. They had to be connected. Or maybe he was connected with the crow? He couldn't remember having performed any particular experiments on the crow that could have affected him by accident.

As his mind raced, Snape was shuffling to and fro in front of his desk. He couldn't bear the white clinical lab anymore. No, it was high time to go for a stroll. As he was his own boss, he was free to do this, but didn't indulge very often.

He left the lab, locking the cupboard that contained the crows twice, before resetting the entrance registration parameters on the door panel. This discovery, while not being of any use whatsoever when it came to Narcissa, was clearly something big. Did Riddle, or Voldemort as he preferred to be called, know that his drug could create dreams without drawing on the subconscious? Snape suspected he did. Perhaps Voldemort was testing him. Snape had always wondered at how readily Voldemort had loaned him the money for the lab and the equipment. At first he had just thought that, being a mafia head specialised in narcotics, the expense would not be too much of a financial commitment. Now he was wondering if there really wasn't more to it that so called connections.

Snape made his way to his usual delicatessen, a shady little boutique in the red light district of town, where he picked up the necessary ingredients for that night's meal. The young woman behind the counter winked at him when he asked he how much ostrich meat he would need for two people. He scowled at her.

The door to the flat slid open once again. He didn't place his shoes in the cleaning hole. Suddenly a siren went off.

"Shut up." Snape growled and went back to place the shoes in the cleaning unit, to stop the irritating noise. He would have to figure out how to unprogram that particular function. After all, he had no reason to be bossed around by a cleaning appliance.

He deposited the food items in the kitchen and went over to look at Narcissa. The next step in his experiments would be to try the octopus on her, although he doubted that it would work with so little activity pulsing through her brain. It was worth a try though.

Remus Lupin stepped into the elevator. He had brought an automatic voice transcriptor, but wondered if he would be allowed to use it. He couldn't help wondering why this Snape had changed his mind so completely at the sound of his name. Perhaps they had known each other before the Blackout and this was one of the rare people who remembered something from then. Anyhow, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the spontaneous invitation to Snape's flat. He would much rather have conducted the interview in the lab.

He came up to the door and put his hand to it. Nothing happened. Strange. The door's normal reaction should've been to identify him and call his name inside. Instead he looked at the wall next to the door and found a button. He pressed and heard a bell go off inside. 'How very strange.' He thought. 'Seems to be a little eccentric.'

Seconds later the door opened to reveal a young black-haired man with extremely pale skin and haunted black eyes. Remus knew that, despite the familiar sounding name, he had never laid eyes on this man, who was, at the moment, looking rather stunned. His eyes had widened and his eyebrows shot up. Didn't he realize how impolite he might seem? Remus was getting the distinct feeling that this fellow didn't see much of other people.

"Pleased to meet you professor Snape." He said, holding out his hand.

"What did you call me?" Snape answered with a shocked expression.

"I'm sorry, I only assumed that, having your own lab, you would be a professor. I'm sorry, it wasn't very tactful of me, if that's not the case." Remus said, unsure if he wanted to spend the evening with this strange man. Snape blinked and seemed to shake his head.

"No need to apologize." He said coldly. And then, weakly "I'm afraid I'm not myself these days." He appeared to have regained his composure, if that was what you could call his slightly grumpy expression.

"What's that smell? It's exquisite." Remus said, eager to change the subject.

"Come in, come in. It's ostrich in red wine and thyme sauce."

As Remus entered, he noticed that the walls were a bright turquoise. This colour generally was a sign of confusion or excitement. 'At least he isn't mad at me' he thought.

Half an hour later, the two men were feeling considerably more relaxed, having drunk the wine that hadn't been used in the food, and then some more, out of embarrassment. Right after leading Remus into the kitchen, Snape had programmed the wall colour to a neutral warm skin tone hue, to avoid the student being able to read him too easily.

Of course it had been the werewolf, and of course the latter had no idea who Snape was. So he clearly wasn't expecting to hear himself addressed in real life, as he was in his fantasy life, much less so by an ex-colleague of sorts.

Stripped of all the prejudices and invented past that went with his Lovex persona, Snape found himself actually liking this Lupin fellow. He was quite pleasant and did a fairly good job of hiding his unease when Severus had an unusual reaction.

But now it was late, and despite the comfortable, almost slightly ambiguous warm feeling in the alcohol sodden pit of his stomach, Snape decided it was time to get down to business. Especially since this would be the best way to justify staying in contact with Lupin. So he got up, quite steadily, for his post drug experiences provided good practise, and led a flush-cheeked Remus into "Narcissa's room". It took a while for Lupin to realize that this wasn't a mannequin.

"Oh Lord!" he muttered. He looked at Snape with the air of someone trying to hide their disgust. "You didn't kill her, did you, Mr. Snape?"

Quite amused, for it seemed that the student couldn't hold his wine as well as he could, Snape answered:

"I'm afraid not." He grinned. "No, and I'm sure you should be a bit more careful in accusing people of murder, especially when your thesis depends on them."

Lupin flushed a bit more, seemed dizzy and steadied himself on the alabaster and quartz case. He stared into the resting face.

"She's beautiful."

And it seemed that he had become transparent as the quartz, because he blushed and was about to speak when Snape said:

"No, she's not my wife. And yes, she makes a rather striking piece of furniture, wouldn't you say?"

Not knowing where this uncharacteristic amusement came from, he sighed and became somewhat more serious.

"My project at the moment is to find out, firstly: what her exact state is, because it's not quite a coma, and secondly: how to revive her. How this ties in with medication is simple: …" and he explained the situation to a not very attentive Remus, still enraptured by the slightly cruel looking but pretty creature in the stone coffin.