As they approached the doors to the castle, the silence of the night was met with only the sound of his boots on the stones and her rapid breathing.

"Severus, you can put me down, I can walk," she said teasingly. "What will the students think, if any of them should be awake? Imagine the rumors…"

Snape muttered under his breath something about having been the subject of student rumors for years, but did put her down gently. In the Entrance Hall he stopped and bellowed "Filch, get Madame Pomfrey, Professor Hunter is ill and needs immediate attention." The sudden volume of his voice was less shocking to her than his words. She stepped backward and looked at him in stunned confusion.

"Ill?" she hissed, turning him forcefully by his arm. "What are you talking about, Severus? Quiet down, you'll wake the whole school." Before she could continue her admonition, Filch appeared from the dimness, skinny legs peeking out from under a tattered red plaid nightshirt, clearly unhappy to have been disturbed at this unconscionable hour.

"Headmaster, it's very late, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey is in her own rooms by now."

Filch cowered as Snape took two steps closer to him, towering over him and glaring. "Professor Hunter is ill," he said through gritted teeth. "Would you like to explain to Madame Pomfrey why you would not alert her to an ill member of the staff? Do you have any idea what might happen if Professor Hunter is not taken care of immediately?" he growled down at the hunchbacked caretaker, whose only response was to scamper off towards the hospital wing.

Filch now gone, Hunter placed what she meant to be a calming hand on Snape's arm, which he drew back quickly, as though concerned for some kind of contamination. "Why did you tell him that I am ill? I feel fine. Madame Pomfrey will be as unamused by your prank as I am, I'm sure." She drew closer to him as they waited in the faint torchlight of the empty, silent hall. "Let's take your sample case down to the lab and then continue what we started in the forest." Now she pressed him against the wall and held his hands in hers.

"Dr. Hunter, you have no idea what you've just been exposed to," Snape began, pushing her away and stepping out away from the wall into the middle of the Entrance Hall. He seemed ready to say more, but Hunter cut him off.

"I am fine, I am going back to my apartment and YOU can explain to Poppy just why you needed to wake her in the middle of the night with this poorly-conceived joke!" she spat. She turned on her heels and strode back towards her rooms.

How could this have happened, she wondered miserably. The moment in the forest was so lovely, and held such promise. Now, only a few minutes later, she was walking off in a huff, turning her back on the man only moments before she was enthralled by. Rather than looking forward to some blissful evening, she knew only a quiet, cold, and solitary room awaited her now. She'd done everything right, hadn't she? Her long brown hair, usually tightly braided, was free-flowing, framing her face. Her skin, usually a warm brown, she knew was becoming lighter in the low sunlight this far north, not to mention the fact that she spent the better part of the daylight hours in the dungeons. She wore a new woolen cape, the height of the current fashion, in a remarkably becoming forest green. She'd been an able research partner, keeping up the mad pace that he was setting of late. She'd been as agreeable as possible. What could possible have led to this outcome? She carefully reviewed her words (few) and could find nothing offensive or particularly repellant about them. Perhaps they were too simple, perhaps he valued more expression. That seemed unlikely, given that he had barely said a word most days in the past few weeks.

Perhaps in the morning, she would be ready to consider her next move. But it was all so strange, why would he say she was ill and go get the healer? If he had changed his mind and thought the better of having a romantic relationship with his employee, it would be a simple matter to say so. He'd been very direct about his opinions previously.

A very strange joke, indeed. She silently hoped he would not let her walk away, but would pursue her.

She had hardly taken three steps when she felt his hand on her shoulder. Ah, going to apologize now, I suppose, she thought, her spirits rising, ready to forgive in an instant. She allowed herself to be turned, still hoping the emotions of the forest would return and her more optimistic image of the evening play out. But Snape's expression was not one of desire, but one of concern.

"Morgan," he said gently. "The bluebells were at their most potent tonight. You need to see Poppy, perhaps she can sort this out."

Poppy arrived just then, her sleeping robes still wrinkled and her eyes red from sleep interrupted. "Severus, what is going on? Filch said Professor Hunter is sick? What's the story?" She approached Hunter and grasped her hand and began examining it.

"I'm sorry Professor Snape had you disturbed, but he is quite mistaken. I am fine, please, let's all just go to bed."

Madame Pomfrey cast Snape an accusatory look. "Explain," she growled.

"Professor Hunter is under the influence of midnight bluebells. She discovered a patch of them while we were gathering potions ingredients," he explained.

Poppy was not cottoning on.

"And…. I assume there's more to this story."

Snape continued. "The midnight bluebell does not grow in the United States. This was her first encounter." He stopped here, as Poppy drew in her breath and squeezed Hunter's hand more firmly.

"And it's a full moon," she said. Snape nodded. "At the equinox," she added, concern etching her face. "Let's go up to the infirmary."

Hunter was having none of it. How had this gone so wrong, from delight to dismal? "No thank you, I'm fine. The Headmaster is just playing some foolish prank. Let's all just go to bed." she pleaded to him, taking his hand and drawing him away from the passageway to the infirmary.

Rather than allowing himself to be led, Snape scooped her up yet again, saying into her ear "Please don't make a scene, Dr. Hunter. You don't want to be the source of student rumors, either."

Poppy took the potions case and followed, closely observing the apparent delight on Morgan Hunter's face as her mood shifted and she now settled into Snape's arms and allowed herself to be carried up to the infirmary. This was a serious case.

Once they arrived in the hospital wing, Snape deposited Hunter on a bed. He was pleased to discover that the ward was otherwise unoccupied, the Whomping Willow's victims now recovered and the Quidditch injuries not yet serious enough this early in the season. Hunter allowed Poppy to examine her eyes and heart and hands. She found it aggravating and insulting that Poppy only asked Snape what happened, not her.

"Severus, tell me how this happened, exactly," Poppy ordered, as she took notes in her chart and continued to examine Hunter's nose and mouth.

"As I said, we were gathering ingredients on this most opportune of nights, with a full moon at the equinox. Many items are at their most potent now."

"Yes, I know, please get to the point."

Snape slowed his explanation, as though he were talking to a particularly slow student. "She inadvertently found a full patch of the bluebells and proceeded to lie down among them."

"With the expected effect?" Poppy asked pointedly, now taking her eyes from Hunter and regarding Snape.

Patchy ruddiness rose in his pallid face and he wrung his hands. "Yes," he said. Then he followed quickly with "I figured the situation out quickly before things got out of hand and brought her immediately to you."

Madame Pomfrey smiled and patted Hunter's hand. "This is not a case for me, this is a potions case," she said with surprise in her voice. "She needs some of your Amoreverselixir. You don't need me, Severus." She drew herself up and made to leave.

"As you request, Poppy. I'll be back directly," he said, and strode quickly from the room, his movements as smooth and efficient as ever, with the only sound the swish of his robes as they billowed out behind him.

Poppy turned back to her patient, whose glance followed the form of the Potions Master until he was out of sight. Only then did Hunter seem to come back to herself and acknowledge the healer.

"Dr. Hunter, if you don't mind my asking, how are you finding working with Professor Snape?" she asked conversationally, as she made a few notes in her chart, seating herself beside the bed.

It was as though a dam had been opened. "Poppy, it's wonderful, more exciting than I could even have imagined. He's amazing, so well-read, such a sharp mind." Her gaze drifted off to somewhere on the back wall of the room as she continued on. "He really gets it, you know, about how ingredients meld together. We are working on how to combine New World and Old World potions to create new and more potent formulas. We've only just got started, and there's so much more yet that we can do." She suddenly realized the metaphor and continued, saying "Can I speak to you as one woman to another, Poppy? It's all confidential, right?"

Madame Pomfrey nodded her agreement, continuing to scratch out notes in the chart with her quill.

"I'm looking forward to combining the Old and New Worlds in other ways, too. I know most people wouldn't see it, but to me, he's a marvelously handsome man, all that intelligence and skill, packaged in such a fine and strong body." She suddenly realized she's said more than was prudent and stopped, looking down at the floor in embarrassment.

The Healer only nodded, no particular amusement or shock in her expression as she continued to focus on the parchment in front of her. "Of course, of course," she said. "How long have you felt this way? Does he know your feelings?"

Hunter looked toward the window, pensive for a moment, considering. "I think I first noticed this a week or two ago. We had worked our way through a series of variations of Veritaserum, looking for ways to simplify the recipe or to allow the effects to last either longer or shorter, depending on the user's need. I was just so taken by how quickly he saw my method and how well he was able to come up with new ways to use the ingredients and extrapolate the possibilities. I've never really had an actual equal to work with before. It's exciting to discover so much potential, so quickly, to yearn for more hours in the day, so more progress can be made before the ideas slip away. And then that excitement and desire began to apply not only to the potions, but to the man himself." Here, she paused, her breathing having become rapid again, as she relived the emotions. "Tonight, he was in the moonlight, and….." Here, she trailed off. "I was… and we… but then he said I was ill and we came here." Her eyes began to water with hurt and confusion. "I don't understand. What's the problem? I'm fine."

Poppy understood perfectly why Snape called for her. "It's the bluebells," she explained, setting aside her quill and chart and giving Hunter her full attention. "They are noted for their bonding effect. Typically, witch and wizard babies throughout Britain and most of Europe are greeted with tiny bouquets of them to both reinforce bonding to their families, but also to expose them to it early, so they are immune to the effects later in life." Hunter continued to look puzzled. "Dishonorable witches and wizards have been known to use bluebells to seduce reluctant lovers for centuries, if their intended hasn't already become insensitive to them. Not only are you sensitive, but these were at their peak of potency. You lay down in a patch of them, I take it?" Hunter nodded silently, her eyes wide with disbelief. "So you got a strong dose. What else happened?"

Hunter looked ruefully at the moonlight coming through the window. "Nothing, nothing at all. Though not for lack of trying on my part. I put a few on his jacket and he immediately dragged me to you."

Poppy smiled. "I would expect nothing less from Severus Snape. That'll be him coming now." Hunter looked to the door and smiled brightly at his entrance, holding out her hand to him. He looked discomfited and concerned, but took a seat next to her and allowed his hand to be held.

"Thank Merlin I had a fresh vial," he said, handing a small cut crystal vial of purple swirling liquid to Poppy, who looked back at him, attempting and failing to keep her amusement from her eyes.

"How much do I give?" she asked, keeping the irony out of her voice and withdrawing the dropper.

"Two drops on the underside of the tongue is the usual adult dose," he noted.

Poppy took the dropper out and approached Hunter. "Open up, dear, let's help get you back to normal."

Hunter looked pleadingly to Poppy and then to Snape. "But I am normal. There's nothing wrong with me. Please, Severus, I'm not ill."

But Snape looked back to Madame Pomfrey with determination in his eyes. "Classic presentation. Please, proceed Poppy."

Hunter, previously merely confused and dismayed, now became furious. "No!" she shouted, releasing Snape's arm and standing. "There's nothing wrong with me, I won't take this, whatever it is."

Both the healer and the Potion Master regarded her with equal parts of concern and determination. "Severus, hold her down, please," Poppy requested.

Hunter leaped from the bed and drew her wand. Both of them stepped back, Snape having been quick enough to draw his wand out, as well. But he stood between her and the door, blocking her escape by any means other than spellwork, which she was loath to use on professional colleagues.

"Severus, why are you doing this?" she said accusingly, her extended wand hand shaking with rage. "I'm not sick. If I surprised you in the forest, it's only because I am surprised by my own feelings. I've never met anyone like you, never had an equal. How is it a sickness to be in love?" Her wild expression and gesturing with her wand caused Snape and Madam Pomfrey to step cautiously towards her.

"You aren't in love, Dr. Hunter, only under the influence of bluebells. Once we get the antidote in you, you'll realize this. You'll be back to normal," Snape said, taking obvious effort to keep his tone calm and even.

"I won't," she said, but with less strength than before. The options were to attempt to hex two colleagues at once, one her supervisor; engage in combat to escape through the door, only to be pursued to her apartment; or to allow them to administer this potion. She looked intently at Snape for a long moment. No one moved or spoke. Slowly, she lowered her wand. "There is no normal." She dropped her wand arm, the tears now spilling over, as she gave in. What would it feel like to have your love, your own emotion, stripped away? She was terrified, both of taking the potion and of not taking it. What if they were right? But it seemed so real, so powerful. Even now, mixed with the red-hot fury she directed towards him, she was thinking of the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, hoping for a repeat soon, knowing it was not likely. "What if it's real, what happens then?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Snape looked away with a scoff, but Poppy said, reassuringly, "Real emotions and feelings cannot be affected. It only reverses the effect of bluebells or other such substances or love potions. Nothing else will change, don't worry."

Still anxious, but seeing no way to avoid this without making a violent and disruptive scene, Hunter put away her wand, stepped forward, and opened her mouth. Poppy put two drops of the potion under her tongue. The taste wasn't foul like most potions, which mostly taste like licking the inside of a frog's intestine, and the lower intestine, at that. This gave the sensation like her mouth was being cleaned, then her throat, then a warm cleansing wave rippled gently and slowly out across her body. The metal frame of the sickbed creaked loudly against the silence as she sat down. They waited.

"Can you feel it working?" Poppy finally asked, as Snape remained standing apart from the bed, silent and observing, his wand put away, but still taking up the space between her and the door. "It should feel like a warm detoxification, for about 5 minutes, then a gradual release back to normalcy."

Hunter nodded glumly, the feeling still spreading, now down her arms and legs, up her neck and across her face. Finally, it reached her fingers and toes. She looked at her hands, but nothing visible was happening. The warmth slowly faded and she slumped down further. Snape approached her tentatively, sitting on the chair next to the bed.

"Is it over now? You felt the potion work?" he asked.

She nodded. They all sat together in the dimness of the room. Then, Poppy spoke briskly, jotting down a few notes, her quill vibrating over the chart. "There now, all back to normal." She stood and paced, muttering to herself as she wrote. "Subject reports resolution of bluebell effects. Case successfully treated." She closed the chart with a snap.

Hunter continued to sit, tears still in her eyes. "Don't be embarrassed," Snape said gently. "I take full responsibility, I should certainly have seen the risk of this to someone who hadn't been exposed. Consider yourself lucky; it could have been arcocythia, which may have been fatal at first exposure." He stood and extended his hand to her collegially. "Shall we call it a night, then?"

Poppy turned around from her chart. "Yes, I think so. Let's get what rest we can before breakfast is served." She shooed them out, handing the potions case to Snape. "Off you go, and a good night to you both." And she wandered off down the hall towards her apartment next to the infirmary.

Snape and Hunter walked slowly in the opposite direction, back towards the staff apartments. Once fully out of earshot and view of Madame Pomfrey, once they were considerably further along after she'd heard the door click shut, Hunter stopped.

"Severus, I'm sorry," she began hesitantly.

"As I said, Dr. Hunter, the apologies should be mine for not seeing the risks."

Hunter now looked up at him, wondering to herself, testing herself. Real or not real? She felt the same thrill of excitement at being so close. "Severus, I'm not sick, I never was. My feelings for you weren't caused by the bluebells. I could feel the Amoreverselixir work, but I still feel…." At this, she looked away and her voice trailed off. She had said too much, gone too far. Clearly, he did not feel the same way. Clearly, this was a one-way street. She stepped back reluctantly, shored herself up and began a slow walk back to her apartment, alone.

Snape watched her go, disappearing in the dimness of the hall. He might have said something, but yet again, he was stunned for the second time in one night, into silence. The elixir had been potent, he was certain of it. He'd made it himself. He could tell it had its intended effect on her by watching her reaction. How had it not worked? He wondered what other things she might have been exposed to, what other substances were known or thought to be resistant to Amoreverselixir. This might require additional research, particularly into combinations of Old and New World items. With a small shudder, he brought his attention back to the present moment, just before he was about to drop his case, filled with a fresh collection of specimens. It was a few more steps down the dark, cold corridor before he realized that his mouth felt odd. Tingly in some way.

Hunter waited until she heard his footsteps walking away, then turned to steal a look at him. Why was he heading back to the main entrance, and not going in the direction of his apartment or the dungeon to the storeroom? It was now very late, or else very early, depending on your reference point. Curious, she opted to follow him, staying well back in the shadows. Indeed, he was heading to the main entrance, where he slipped out in silence. She waited longer, knowing that the door might make some noise. She pushed the heavy oaken door, putting her shoulder into it, then slid out and closed the door as quietly as possible. Snape was now nearly across the lawns and to the edge of the forest. She gave up trying to simply walk quickly and took up a jog, to close the space between them before he reached the forest and she might lose the way. Once she reached the edge of the forest, she realized that she needed to keep as close to him as possible. The forest seemed even darker and denser than before and it would be easy to lose her way now, despite the moon, which was sitting far lower than before. She stayed far enough back to go unnoticed, but close enough to keep him in view.

He returned to the clearing, where he paused, looking across the place where only a few hours before she had held him in her arms, where she had kissed him. Despite the effects of the potion, she felt her emotions rise and a deep longing in her heart. Even in the lesser moonlight, he was still radiant, tall, and handsome.

At last, he resumed movement. He bent down, and began to rip up the bluebells, not stopping until every last blossom was plucked. He stuffed them into a bag, put the bag in his sample case, which he then fastened with a sharp tug. He then turned on his heel and began to come back along the path to the castle. She cowered down behind a pair of trees, hoping the breeze wouldn't take her dark green woolen cloak and wave it like a flag. She would be hard-pressed to explain herself.

Now he walked considerably more slowly and she had no trouble keeping up, for which she was grateful, as the moon was now fully set and it was nearly impossible for her to see anything in the dense forest. But Snape seemed to know the forest like the back his hand, despite the deep gloom. He made his way slowly back up the lawn to the main doors and quietly slipped within. Hunter waited for a few minutes for him to get far enough from the door that he might not hear her, then slipped quietly into the empty entrance hall. She proceeded back to her apartment, the walk every bit as cold and solitary as she'd pictured previously.

Snape slept deeply that short night, exhausted from the night's labors. But his dreams brought him more questions than answers, for they all featured a certain petite Potions Mistress.