Severus Snape loomed over Eliza as she lay on the floor. She stared at him, her green eyes wide as he reached down and pulled her up into a seated position. Kneeling beside her, he ran his long fingers over her head, carefully feeling for any bumps or cuts she might have received from falling on the bathroom tile. Eliza felt a slight flutter down her spine as his fingers moved through her hair, but she quickly pushed the sensation aside and focused on the probing black eyes that were watching her.
"What were you thinking," he hissed after he surmised that she had not received a concussion from her fall. She opened her mouth to answer but no sound came out. Eliza pointed to her throat, motioning that she was thirsty. Snape filled a cup that had been sitting on the sink with water from his wand even though the facet was just a few inches away.
"Why on Earth would you drink a potion that hasn't been tested? It was poison you know. You are lucky that I showed up when I did," he said as she greedily gulped the water. She handed the empty cup back to him and he filled it again.
"You had a bezoar," she croaked. It was more of a statement than a question. He gave a short nod in response.
"You have not answered my question. What were you thinking?"
Slowly, Eliza tried to pull herself up into a standing position, but her legs were shaky and her head was spinning. Grabbing hold of her arm, Snape helped Eliza get balanced on her feet. He led her, half carrying her, into the bedroom across the hall.
Sitting down on the bed, Eliza motioned for Snape to sit in the old rocking chair in the corner but he chose to remain standing in front of her.
"It was the boomslang skin," she said, finally. "It goes bad after a few years. I guess fourteen years makes it poisonous."
"Obviously," Snape answered, his lip curling up into a sneer. "I would have thought that a potions genius such as yourself would have figured that out on your own. That still doesn't answer my question. Why were you drinking the potion?"
Eliza gave him a weak smile. "Well I guess I would have thought of the boomslang skin if hadn't of blocked my memories."
"What do you mean?" Snape asked, his sneer faltering slightly.
"That potion was the reversal for one that I had taken fourteen years ago," She whispered. "The first one block the things I wanted to forget and the second let them back in."
Eliza watched as Snape's expression changed from disdain to shock to horror in reaction to her words. He stared back at her for several long minutes as he tried to formulate his next question.
"What could have happened that would make you want to forget everything?" he asked softly. For a moment, Eliza thought she saw empathy, perhaps compassion, lurking in his cold black eyes. She quickly dismissed the idea. There was a time, years ago, when she thought she saw something in Severus Snape but she had been wrong then and she was most certainly wrong now. He was as cold and heartless now as he was fourteen years ago.
Eliza glanced sideways at him. She was taking a chance but she had to ask. "What happened to you that night?" she asked, her voice just a whisper. "You are lucky I remembered those spells."
Snape's eyes widened and his nostrils flared. She was in no position to be bargaining with him and yet she dared to deflect his question by one of her own. He knew this game and as much as he wanted to turn around and leave, the headmaster had sent him to Eliza's home for a reason, although he still wasn't sure what that reason was.
"If you don't want to answer then fine I won't make you," Snape said bitingly. "But when the Dumbledore hears about this he is not going to be happy."
"Well I guess you could say it is his fault that I drank the potion," Eliza replied. Her head was beginning to hurt from the interrogation and she just wanted Snape to leave so she could sift through the memories in peace.
"Why are you here, Severus?" she asked. Snape flinched slightly when she said his name. He was not used to hearing people call him by his first name. Most of the time people called him Professor or some other terrible name based on his hair or awful nose. But the way she said his name just then, weary and resigned, it was as though she had known him for years and they were old friends.
Snape finally decided to sit in the old rocking chair, perching stiffly on the front edge. He looked uncomfortable.
"The Headmaster seemed to think that you wanted to talk to me," He said, fixing his hard black eyes on her again. His stare seemed to intensify and Eliza squirmed under his invasive gaze. She felt like he was trying to pull the answers from her before she could say anything. Eliza wasn't sure if he was using legilimency, but she put up her occlumency shield anyway. Snape flinched again and Eliza gave him a triumphant smirk.
"Yes I do want to talk to you, about many things actually, but I don't think now is a good time," She answered.
"Does it have anything to do with this?" he asked, producing the thick stack of parchment that Eliza had been holding when she drank the potion.
Her eyes grew wide and she reached toward the stack, wiggling her fingers to show that she wanted the papers.
"Explain," he demanded as her handed the pages of notes to her.
"It's my research from years ago. Apparently Dumbledore wants me to resume my work. He has already had the Order in here pestering me to join, and now you," she answered.
"And what exactly does this research entail?" he asked, the sneer creeping back on his face. Eliza could hear the resignation in his voice. It was as though he expected Eliza, or even Dumbledore to request his services. She speculated that this wasn't the Headmaster's first entreaty on the potions master's expertise.
Eliza looked at him thoughtfully. She hadn't considered working with a partner on this project, but with his extensive potions knowledge and Dark Arts background, he would be the ideal consultant for the work. Of course she still didn't know which side held his loyalties. She wasn't quite ready to share the work, not until she knew his intentions.
"It's a very complex issue but I don't want to get into it today. Let me look over the old notes and make some revisions, then maybe, I will pick your brain about it," she said lightly trying to mask the suspicion in her voice. She just couldn't trust him yet.
"You would like to 'pick my brain'. Well Mrs. Slope, as much as I would enjoy playing potions with you, I do not possess the time nor the suicidal tendencies to join you," he said coldly.
"Don't worry, Professor, I won't be burdening you with any work that is beneath you. I am only interested in your extensive knowledge of the unforgivable curses," she said, matching his icy tone.
Again, for just a moment, Eliza thought she saw emotion lurking behind his hard eyes. But this time it was hurt that moved through, passing as quickly as it appeared. Eliza bit her lip, wishing she could take back the words. She hadn't intended to be so harsh and the way she had phrased her last comment sounded like she just wanted to use him. It did seem a little odd though that a Death Eater would be offended by her mentioning his knowledge of the unforgivable curses.
"Look professor, I would like to talk to you again, about many things, but first I need to speak with Dumbledore. I have just taken a brutal potion that apparently poisoned me and I have a lot of memories to deal with," Eliza said hoping to satiate him for the time being. Snape nodded curtly and stood up, his bat-like robes swirling around him and making him more intimidating than before.
"I will be at Hogwarts. When you decide that I am worth your time, you may contact me there," he said stiffly before swooping out of the room.
Eliza listened for the slam of her front door as he left and jumped out of bed. Grabbing a pen and paper, she began furiously scribbling a note to Dumbledore. About halfway through, she stopped and mentally smacked herself on the forehead. In the mess of freshly restored memories she had forgotten that she didn't own an owl, and although it would probably be acceptable for her to hand deliver the note to Hogwarts, Eliza thought it would be bad manners.
Finishing the note, Eliza knew that she would have to try another route. It may be bad manners to drop in on someone unexpectedly, but family didn't count. After quickly smoothing her hair and fetching her wand, Eliza made a bold attempt at apparition.
She was very lucky that she wasn't splinched, but nonetheless, Eliza landed on a lamp-lit London street, just in front of two houses numbered 11 and 13. As she stared at the homes, picturing number 12 that was simply hidden from view, Eliza wondered how she would be received here in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.