Chapter 15 Rest and relaxation
This is a quiet, short chapter, which doesn't fit into the last one or into the next one. So it's here all by itself!
I have two more chapters before I run out of first draft to revise. Still, November is coming and that means NaNoWriMo (I would put the link here but FFN doesn't like them. However, it's easy to Google).
Thanks again to BlueWater5 for her lovely beta-ing!
Snape discovered he was too tired to be angry with the current cycle of potions and purging. He mentioned it to Johann when he bounced in like a too-eager crup puppy.
"Oh, that is normal," the younger man said. "It is easier for us to poison you when you are too weary to resist. This stage will be over soon. You can complain how poorly we are brewing your potions and how you could do it better in a month or so." He paused for a moment, then continued. "It hurts to take the thorn from your paw, but you will be less worried when it is all the way out. Our chief and his brother are working to find a way so you may still teach and not become sick again from the students and what else you must brew with a werewolf there."
He looked sad for a moment. "We all wish we had thought of this earlier. I am sure many do not come to us because they cannot leave work."
Severus was resigned to being a lab rat. Then again, if he lived long enough to continue teaching, he would need some kind of protocol to avoid ending up here once more. He thought of his friend in Diagon Alley who wanted to know more about this process as well.
Johann babbled on about willing cooperation and then left to inflict his incessant good cheer on some other poor victim. Snape imagined the healer assistant as yet another one of Hagrid's pets and nearly smiled. I suppose I should visit the new puppy and find out how she's pestering Fang and drooling on Hagrid. No doubt she's twice my size already.
At least this time he'd brought plenty of reading material, though most of it was light. They'd found a house elf who read to him when he was to rest his eyes. The small fellow had a thick accent but was mostly understandable. Perhaps I should teach Winky. She seems quite bright. Or perhaps I should allow Miss Granger to test some of her theories about house elves and delegate that little task to her.
He indulged himself with another sip of the marvelous chocolate. There were a few advantages to being here in the holiday season and this was one of them. Many of the potions keeping him quiescent were being delivered to him that way, he was certain, but he wasn't going to complain about this method.
What a pity the wolf wasn't here. Lupin would try to find a vat to drown himself in, or at least persuade someone susceptible to his charm to give up the recipe. He would have a hundred customers the first day if he managed to brew chocolate like this. I should suggest that he try making it for himself. I could find him a lab away from all the others to avoid cross-contamination and let him have at it. Perhaps I can smuggle one of the bars back with me and find out what he could do with it.
He set his cup back on the tray and closed his eyes. He'd felt exhausted when first coming here and no amount of rest seemed to help much. I'm almost as tired as I was when I first crossed the threshold here, though I don't feel suicidal—at least their potions made that much difference. The only thing I can think of that might make me weaker was the present I brewed for Argus. I must admit I put a lot of my emotions into the potion for Narcissa, but really, I've worked much harder before. Maybe they changed my potions again or they interacted with the two newer potions? It was probably the Wolfsbane, though.
He felt better having something to blame on the werewolf and fell asleep.
"He is diminished, is that the word?" Johann said to Master Lowenstein in the chief's office. "I told him that of course we are using potions to make him compliant, but truly, he is less strong than ever before, even more than when he was healing from the burns. I would like to know more about those potions he was brewing as well."
"Brewers such as he always end up with some flame damage if they are doing advanced work," the older man said. "And he has other duties in a school with students who have more imagination than sense. I would like to give him a month with only the supporting potions, but he will be teaching and brewing all that time, including the Wolfsbane. I am glad he is instructing one of his classes how to brew that as a group. I am sure I will lose that thousand Galleons on my bet, but this is one time I do not mind it. If he succeeds in devising a procedure to make that potion easier to manufacture, it can be made in larger quantities with perhaps a reduction in price and more customers. We stand to gain far more from that, even with a healthy royalty added in. I protest what he is doing but in reality, I wish him success.
"He is still improving from where he was. Even at death's door he suggested help for my great-aunt who suffers yet from the Grindelwald war. If you read my work on my brother, I sent him to a spa with no potions of any kind when he was at this stage." I can't tell Johann everything, unfortunately. He likes to gossip too much.
Lowenstein sighed. Snape's response to treatment this time around was sluggish in all ways. Even the lust potion had little effect this time. He was easier to deal with this way. "I should like to have him sleep for a day or two and tell the headmaster he should stay for longer than planned. However, we must take care. Your sleep charms are strong, which is good when patients are fractious. But this time they may be too strong, so you must take care." He wondered how the professor had used his magic in the recent past. He'd heard rumors someone had been purchasing ingredients known to be used in the Root of Magic potion. If his patient had brewed it, or even attempted it, Snape might have put too much of his own magic into it. There were reasons few tried it these days, despite the increasing number of Squibs in the magical communities known for strict customs about marriage. The eventual reward for success was great, but the immediate risk to the brewer was just as great if he received inadequate rest afterwards. Ah well, no doubt it was providing the Wolfsbane the old master way combined with his current regimen which has produced this result. Christmas is a time when potions are given out for presents, too. Still, it would be wise for Professor Snape to rest as much and for as long as he can.
He looked up at Johann. "Our patient's potions should only be half-strength for the rest of his stay here. He should also have the sleep charm for the last day before he returns home, but at lesser strength than you have given him before. Even if he is just drowsy that last day, that will help him better than being so far under we must take measures to raise him back to consciousness."
"That sounds good," the younger man said. "He has not insulted me once since he came here this time, and that is not like him. If your brother can gossip with him, perhaps we will learn more about what he has been doing lately."
Lowenstein nodded. "I will contact Klaus to ask what his schedule is like for the next few days. I need to remind him to watch out for effects from his own brewing anyway."
He dismissed Johann and then looked through Snape's file again. Yes, his young friend was right. His patient was calmer and more tired than normal for this stage. I wish he could stay away from the cauldron and the classroom entirely for a month at least. Yet many will never take this treatment if they cannot feed their families. I must use my brother as a test case for prevention to save other brewers from becoming so ill in the first place.
He hated knowing that Snape might be lost due to causes beyond his control. He'd had two like that already—one from a Muggle bus, and another from dragon pox. At least with the second they had learned which potions should not be given at the same time as those for the disease.
He closed the file. He must speak again to his great-aunt about preparations if Professor Snape needed a permanent sanctuary. She would likely have insight into this madman Voldemort and know if he could threaten the rest of Europe. Surely even the French could recognize a threat so close to their own borders, especially with the Delacour family now insistent about the peril. Everyone on the Continent had simply avoided Britain a couple of decades ago, or dismissed the problem since it appeared this Voldemort fellow wasn't a menace on the scale of Grindelwald, but it was quite possible they had all been fools. He idly speculated on what Albus Dumbledore might have done with his life if this fellow had been eliminated and how the British magical community might have flourished without the threat of war. There were some who preferred the Brits to have enough trouble to keep them from interfering with the rest of Europe, especially since the dilatoriness of their chief champion had caused Grindelwald to grow stronger than he should have.
However, they need not copy the Brits by ignoring the problem till it grew large enough to threaten everyone else. Lowenstein thought he'd speak to some of his fellow potion researchers about these matters and what, if anything, could be managed. Anything to avoid calling on the Americans! They would just move in, create havoc, and presume themselves the heroes as their Muggle compatriots had done half a century ago.
So, he would make inquiries about a safe place for Professor Snape if the poor fellow was disabled but alive, and then make other inquiries about this war among his fellows. He sighed. His family had already provided room for some Russian refugees who didn't want to be used by the new gang lords taking over the ruins of the Soviet Union. Being neutral doesn't mean being heartless.
Argus Filch looked at what he'd done this Christmas season and pronounced it good. The school was almost ready for students again, though some projects would have to wait till summer. His broom felt like a weapon these days, while dirt and bits of leaves fairly queued up to be gathered in the pan. There were no more lines of debris that forced him into extra bending, which he appreciated.
He placed his broom against one of the walls near the entrance to the dungeons. Argus reached out to touch the cold surface. Even though most repairs had to be carried out by the professors or the elves, he could often make a good guess about what was wrong even before he'd drunk Snape's potion.
It'd been nice to wake up the other morning with his quarters in much better shape. The bed was wider, the mattress softer, the sheets and blankets were newer and smelled fresher, while the window was clean and let in light better of a morning. When he'd asked one of the elves about it, he'd been told how silly he was. "We's not changing a thing, but we's happy to fix it before. You have us repairs all but this place."
Well, yes. Argus wondered then what changes little Winky had made to Snape's rooms, and if she'd just done it on the sly before the younger man could object. At the time, he'd just thanked Poller and moved on. He had been an idiot for not asking for help, and he expected his younger friend had been just as stubborn.
He was also glad the hearth in his room drew better. His joints ached from cold and damp this time of year. Mind you, crisp chill after the snow fell wasn't as bad as constant rain and fog. He rather liked coughing less. Less of the dirt went up into the air and more into the pan, though the old water-sprinkling trick still worked. Maybe now that I'm more magical, Poppy's nostrums and spells will work on me better, too. He'd heard that some cures didn't help Muggles or Squibs as much as for everyone else.
Ah, I need to quiet down. Can't listen to the castle if all I do it talk… Moaning Myrtle's toilet needed work again. They should just put in a new loo somewhere else on that floor and close Myrtle's for good, but nobody would listen to him about that. He'd rarely seen ghosts before now, but always felt the wet when that idiot bint felt upset about things. Maybe now he could sweettalk her a bit. Perhaps she just wanted a bit of company, and not teased to death the way he'd heard others talk about her.
He appreciated being able to see the ghosts now, and not just feel their cold breath. And it was a treat to hear what the portraits were really saying, though they were just as bored as he was some of the time. Maybe now he could get some straight information from them!
Argus sighed and shut his mental trap. The castle was a bit sleepy, like it always was in winter without the brats to liven things up. He didn't feel much more than that and decided to speak to it directly. Look after Snape when he's back, will you? Nobody gave a damn about him for ages, and he nearly died of it.
He heard the castle in words this time. He's safer here than he is outside. The worst things happen while he is away.
That was fair. "All that slow poison in the dungeons, that can't be good."
Was that embarrassment he felt from the stones? He suddenly saw how ventilation could be improved without a spell every day. He should draw a picture and go to the Headmaster for this much work, but if they wanted to keep anyone teaching Potions alive, it had to be done. He thanked the castle and went back to his office to sketch the necessary changes. Bellwood took more sick leave than all the other staff combined. Maybe that's how he kept from being sick? Having his students do most of his brewing probably helped. Best start with the ventilation, then, and look into other things later.
It took nearly half an hour for him to find drawings for that part of the dungeon. He discovered why no changes had been made earlier. The Lake pressed in close to the Common Room by the window. It would take finicky work to set in a new tunnel without letting water break through. It was probably magic that kept the whole area from being flooded. Maybe the potions room could have a vent of its own, but where could the outlet go? I'll leave a note with one of the gargoyles, they know the walls better than anyone here, and talk to the Headmaster about it. He'd have to approve any major changes.
Then he spotted a cavity on the map below the actual dungeons. If he knew what was there, if it hadn't been flooded out by now, a vent could be set up between the classroom and there, with another one placed in a different section of the cavity and then outside. Ha, maybe the final pipe could send the fumes to where Hagrid's pet spiders live! Serve them right.
But he didn't know what was below the dungeons. It might be best just to air out the dungeons through just one pipe instead of two. Enough of the underground area was away from the Lake to send the bad air elsewhere without extra construction.
Argus had one more thought. How much of the horrible stuff was layered onto the walls below by now? I'll have to go through there brick by brick this summer. I'll do a quick day around the potions room, Snape's quarters and the children's area to clean off anything that's easy but do a full strip this summer. Who knows what color the walls were painted originally? Could find a few surprises that way. Maybe the walls of the towers could use that, too, but I'll do the Snakes first. I'll make some notes and leave them on my desk in case I come out of Dumbledore's office with different ideas than when I went into it. Even if the vent isn't added, it's my job to see the insides clean. Nobody could fault me for that! He didn't really think the old wizard would care what he thought, but he'd heard stories about others. Argus sighed and started to walk towards the Headmaster's office.
"And so, you made the real Root of Magic potion, and you say it worked?" Klaus was amazed Snape could still sit up. "You must want that extra power very much."
"I don't know what you mean," the other man said as he leaned back against the pillows propping him up in the plush armchair. "It was a favor to a friend who's helped me a lot over the years. He was fed that rat poison from Nora's and believed nothing would work. I warned him that my potion might not do it, but it was worth the risk. I was just as surprised as he was when he showed magic after it. I'll have to check in on him and find out if it was only temporary when I return."
"And of course, you made the Wolfsbane, and other Christmas presents over the cauldron as well?" Klaus blinked. He knew how he filled his own holiday list.
"Really, you make it sound like I'd tried to take on Dumbledore and half the Ministry in a duel. I have to admit I am quite tired all the time, but I blame your brother and Johann for that." Snape took a deep breath.
"You will be tired like this for some time," Klaus said. The man needed to warned not to overdo it when he left here. "I have found an old book about that potion. It will drain a brewer's core in proportion to its success. This is why few try it, never mind the expense of the ingredients."
"Then why did you ask about extra magical power?" Snape looked puzzled.
"Because if the brewer survives and receives adequate rest after, he regains what was lost and adds on what he gave at the time." He felt silly explaining something most European masters had learned, though mostly at conferences. Then he remembered that his friend normally did not go to them. I wonder if that was his idea? Then again, few of the British seem to go to them much, at least not in the past few decades. You would think they would like a break from all their stupid wars. He spoke to Snape again. "You must rest more when you return. You will be at risk now and for a few more weeks. But I know, you will not have that time and you will have to teach along with whatever else they will not tell me about."
"I should have your brother or Johann write a note for me," Snape said with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "To whom it may concern, Severus Snape is on vacation until Valentine's Day. His students are not allowed to blow anything up, poison half the castle or write an excessive number of essays. Any illegal brewing must be done away from Hogwarts. He should not attend any late meetings or loud parties. That is all." He snorted.
Klaus dutifully laughed, though he inwardly quailed at having to deal with any of those situations. His short stint there had been more than enough. He'd coped with his duties by hiding in the professor's office and not assigning any essays at all.
He noticed his friend had fallen asleep in the comfortable chair. Good. Sleep that came naturally was worth twice that enabled by charms or potion. Klaus quietly left the room and told the attendants' desk that their patient should not be disturbed till he woke naturally. Johann was a good sort but liked to wake people to put a sleep charm on.
Once back at his own place, he made a short list of what his friend had claimed to do just before coming here. Even just the ones which were not the Root of Magic potion would exhaust him, and that did not count final grading and sending the students back to their homes. He always took a long break himself after his Christmas brewing. He made sure his brother received a copy of the list and his recommendations, which he was sure the professor would ignore anyway. One hopes this Squib friend of his is properly grateful, he thought. I am so glad to live where I need not worry about such troubles. No Crucios, no burns—well, that cannot be helped, it happens to brewers no matter their precautions—but inhaling student mistakes as well as my own is not a recipe for a long life. I shall remain grateful I am spared such things.
He thought of the little, dove-like woman who ran the infirmary in Britain. Do I dare push myself forward? She has been a widow for many years and may not want another in her life. Or she might love the professor more than I know. Perhaps I am being too afraid. After all, she must be told what his treatment needs to be after what I have learned. He smiled to himself as he wrote the note. No doubt I am a fool, yet I will wait for her to tell me so instead of sitting on the sidelines and truly being one.
Poppy smiled when she read the note from Klaus. She realized, of course, that she would have to enforce rest periods for Severus when he returned. Mr. Weasley would be his assistant now that Quidditch would have to wait till spring. I'll have to speak to the young man and tell him what he's in for, since I'm sure he's full of dread over it. At least the professor will have to sit for games of chess instead of pacing around. Winky will be delighted to feed Mr. Weasley, and he'll be more than appreciative of it. He has a few inches of growth left and may end up the tallest of his brothers. A good thing he really does like chess, or he would become impatient at less activity himself. I'll have a talk with Severus and work up a list of lively things the boy can do which will be helpful. Winky does a lot and is good about letting me know if Snape is ill, but I like the idea of someone who is physically strong down there if only to help the poor man to the bathroom. I should teach Mr. Weasley some healing spells. She grinned to herself as she thought of an idea. Perhaps the boy could read some of the essays out loud to help Severus with grading.
She looked down at the note and felt warmth in her cheeks. It was good to hear from the man, and she hoped he would visit again someday without Snape's incapacity being the reason.
Poppy took out quill to paper and wrote her thanks back to him. Her owl could take the note to the international Floo at the Ministry and a Swiss owl would take it from the British office in Geneva to Lowenstein's research institute.
Then she sat down and made notes about the other assistants. Mr. Zabini, half a Ravenclaw himself, would be respected by Filius. She hoped her old friend would take better care of himself; she'd known long ago where he'd really received most of his injuries but let him natter on about Australia anyway. Miss Patel, who had been reasonably good at Herbology, could help Pomona organize her papers. The older woman kept most of her files in her head, but if anything happened to her, nobody would know anything about how things were run.
Poppy was very happy Susan Bones was going to help with Minerva. The other woman wasn't nearly as strong as she thought herself, not after those four Stunners to the chest. Susan was the kind to bustle about and take over the eternal pile of essays, if she wasn't allowed to do anything else. Miss Bones also knew some of the simpler healing spells.
I need to teach all the other assistants healing spells, too. None of the plants would dare attack Pomona, but other things can happen here, while Filius is older than most people think. I wish Albus would let me teach a class! If I had to attend to him and other people were hurt at the same time, it could be a disaster. She remembered that ghastly Quidditch game and how Snape had to end up assisting with triage when he was barely recovered himself.
That was an old battle, though. She was still happy about winning one of them and was now allowed to check on all the students as they arrived on the Hogwarts Express in autumn. I wish there was time to do it every time they came back from break, but that's not going to happen. Poppy had a list of students who should be watched for problems, though, and planned to somehow check on them anyway.
She drank some tea and enjoyed the quiet. The winter term allowed her to restock with better knowledge of which students and staff needed what, though of course there would be the usual crowd of bad colds, sore throats, chills, and the occasional broken bone from slipping on the ice.
Albus had given her the winter teaching schedules already, which was helpful. At least there were gaps of an hour in the morning and an hour in the afternoon in Professor Snape's timetable, and she meant for him to spend that time up here. A tiny opening in the window should provide him with enough fresh air without him freezing as he rested. She looked forward to teaching young Malfoy more about the healing arts, since he would have more time to learn them. Still, she should also teach other apprentices some spells, too. If both Severus and young Draco were blocked from healing spells at the same time, it would be wise to have a backup. Perhaps young Miss Rosier?
She needed to organize a small private class in her arts anyway, and not wait for Albus to make it official. Now, how to enforce civility if she had opposing views in them? She certainly didn't have the capacity to teach two sets of classes. Poppy made some more lists. The Headmaster would certainly approve if she taught some people like Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but would put his foot down on others. Well, these groups shared classes all the time due to his policy of putting Slytherins and Gryffindors together anyway, so she could just claim she was following his own pattern.
She could also ask some searching questions about how his behavior exacerbated the rivalry, but she feared she would never hear the truth in his answers to them. Things had changed, which she was happy to see. Minerva managed her own House rather than allowing Dumbledore to set the tone for it. No doubt she used the ability to determine who played Quidditch and who didn't as a stick, and about time, too. Slytherin was becoming almost as organized as it was prior to Mr. Potter's arrival here. Perhaps their worry about their House Head helped keep them in line.
The biggest change had been in Albus himself, especially at the beginning of the year. He didn't turn a blind eye to Gryffindor transgressions, though it helped that Minerva kept them from his notice much more than in the past. What Albus didn't know about, he didn't interfere with. Flitwick had finally done something about the bullying within Ravenclaw itself. Poppy feared that had come about from the worst ones finally leaving. However, the continued appearance of shoes on Miss Lovegood's feet was definitely a sign the situation had improved. Hufflepuff…well, it was their turn, she supposed. No doubt Rolanda was right and there were always going to be the same number of fouls however distributed. And Hufflepuff had long been ignored.
She decided this time to check up on all the staff, and not just Severus. It had been nice to watch him enjoy the Christmas dinner, even though he had clearly indulged in more than just one potion. At least he'd had the good sense to retire early from it, and he had been gentlemanly enough to leave behind some hangover potions for the next day as he left for the clinic. If he had brewed the Root of Magic for dear Argus, well, she wouldn't argue against helping the caretaker more than she normally could a Squib.
Poppy also looked over the new schedule of Snape's potions. The antitoxins had been reduced again, while the supportive ones had increased slightly. She would try to convince him not to overdo but knew how far that would go. Well, perhaps she could talk Klaus into a visit and ask him to supervise a few classes. Madame Tranh was most helpful with the lower-level ones but had fled after a few days with the air of one who planned never to return.
And then there were special cases like Miss Granger. Poppy knew the girl would volunteer to be taken through the final stages of the next batch of the Wolfsbane. If I can work it into my schedule, perhaps I should insist on being a chaperone. It would make Albus and Minerva happier and I might learn enough myself to help with it when needed. Then she realized that she would need to make sure both of them rested afterwards while she watched over them. Well, so much for that thought. Young Mr. Malfoy was her assistant, but she would rather not pull him out of class to mind the infirmary unless absolutely necessary. Things had been quite chaotic during her own stay in St. Mungo's.
I need a real apprentice of my own, she realized, and it should be someone who would not be pulled out at the worst moment to help one side or the other. It was a pity that Klaus couldn't stay if he did come; he always had such good ideas and made her problems seem easy to manage. Oh, she could tell he was a little jealous over her attentions to Severus, but she tried to show that the younger man was a friend, not a lover. She would have to be a bit bolder, she supposed.
Poppy looked at her notes. She had plans for the staff, schedules for the students under the most stress—really, it was just as well it wasn't an OWL or NEWT year for Miss Granger—and Mr. Potter needed to eat more, though with Molly Weasley seeing to his plate he wouldn't have a choice. Miss Lovegood had begun to look worn when returning to Hogwarts despite her air of good cheer. I should have a word with Xeno and make sure she's not taking on too much looking after him. We have a legion of house elves here and if one made visits there once a week or so, nobody would notice. I suspect she's running the Quibbler these days. If her father is in bad health, there's no other family to take over. I know Molly will want more to do once her children go back to work and school unless the Order becomes much busier than it has been. She wouldn't mind popping over while the girl is here to make sure Xeno eats and whatever else his poor daughter has been doing.
She didn't trust this uneasy peace. She glanced at her notes one last time and realized she'd forgotten someone.
I need to follow my own recommendations. I will visit the hospital, be checked over, and then see if Mr. Malfoy finds the same things while he practices diagnostics on me. No doubt he will try to be diplomatic when recording my age…