Chapter 58

Things had calmed down in Hogwarts. Almost two months had elapsed since the second task, and the third task was still a good two months away, so for a short time the inhabitants of the castle were allowed some illusion of normality. Classes went on as usual, children engaged in innocent mischief, Filch complained about Peeves like he had always done.

Even the situation with the champions seemed to have settled. People had grown used to see the three allies sitting together at either the Ravenclaw or the Gryffindor table, accompanied by their retinue of friends. Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students were mingling more than ever, only the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins remaining stubbornly isolated.

Minerva didn't remember the last time that there had been so much regular movement inside the Great Hall, between the tables. There were always students with friends or siblings in other Houses that visited each other, but this was something else. The alliance between Potter and Delacour seemed to have completely demolished the boundaries between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, two Houses that had never been too close (historically Gryffindors tended to associate with Hufflepuffs).

Of course Dumbledore was delighted with the phenomenon and kept expressing his wish to Severus and Pomona that their Houses joined the display of unity next. Pomona seemed to share that wish, while Severus looked as if he intended to lock in the dungeons for the rest of term any Slytherin who dared mingling with another House. Minerva wasn't sure if he really believed in House isolation or if he just had to pretend to believe in that nonsense to maintain his cover. She had the disturbing impression that it wasn't really hard for Severus to pretend to be a true Death Eater because he hadn't changed his ideas much since he had last been one. He probably had only changed his allegiance, and that only because of Lily.

Minerva had hoped that the mental breakdown that he had suffered after the second task would have worked itself out in just a few days with the help of Calming Draughts and Dreamless Sleep, but after almost two months the stubborn man still seemed determined to "be done with the Vow".

He had given her expressed instructions not to inform him of anything related to Potter, particularly if it was something that might force him to act "because of his bloody Vow". Apparently he believed that if he was never made aware of the boy's health conditions, stupidity or general lack of things, he could live on without having to do anything. Minerva had feared he would drop dead in less than a week with that attitude, but to her chagrin and his smugness he was still alive and more determined than before to continue ignoring all about the Recipient of his Vow. How long and far such method would remain effective, it was hard to tell. For all she knew he hadn't yet dropped dead because Harry was in good health, not lacking anything and working on a clever alliance.

All right, it seemed like it might be possible to cheat around an Unbreakable Vow, at least in some degree. But the point of swearing such a Vow had been to use it to keep the boy alive, and yet now Severus was doing his best not to even know if there was something he had to do to achieve that goal.

The man was being utterly ridiculous.

And Minerva didn't understand why. What had changed after the second task? Plainly, it had been Potter's dog what had triggered Severus' descent into absurdity, but the animal was long gone now, and surely even such a stubborn man as Severus could see that it wasn't worth to jeopardize Harry's life and his own for such a little thing as a dog bite. She had tried to reason with him —he was a very intelligent, usually rational man—, but every mention of the dog or Potter only made things even worse, and bringing up Lily didn't seem to help at all.

The only encouraging sign in all this was that Severus hadn't —yet— shut Minerva out. He might have regressed to an internal disposition similar or worse than the one he had had before swearing the Vow, but at least the tentative friendship that they had forged since then through complicity and secrecy seemed to have survived. Severus was being quite unpleasant, but he rarely kicked her out when she flooed by to check on him, and he had even accepted several of her invitations to play chess in her quarters in the company of Deirdre and a pot of tea or the occasional bottle of Scotch. This might not be enough to get him back on track in regards to Harry, but Minerva hoped it would be easier for him to find his way back from whatever dark place he was in if he didn't isolate himself completely.

Ironically, while the man who had done the unthinkable to ensure Potter's survival so far suddenly didn't seem to care whether the boy had a future or not, the useless component of staff —Minerva included— was beginning to contemplate the possibility of a future for the younger champion. No one would want to admit it, but Minerva knew that not even Dumbledore had expected the boy to be alive long enough for his long term education to be an issue. Now, having survived two tasks and engaged two older champions in a fierce alliance, Harry seemed to have a very high chance of reaching fifth year, and it was becoming a question how he would cope with that academically.

"Mr. Potter hasn't turned in an essay in weeks," said Aurora. "He doesn't pay much attention in class either. Losing House points doesn't seem to matter to him..."

"I'm afraid I have similar observations to share regarding Mr. Potter," said Sybill, who looked and sounded anxious just to be out of her tower. "He used to be such an involved student! Now he barely listens to my predictions, and he also hasn't turned in any homework in a long while. The last dream journal he submitted was disturbing, too, it had written 'roasted alive by angry dragon' in every single line. One would think a person dreams of many different things over the course of a month..."

"One would also think students don't find themselves in the situation of almost being roasted alive by a dragon," snapped Minerva, her heart filling with sorrow and anger and guilt at the thought of Harry being haunted by that blasted dragon every single night for over a month. She had interrogated the Prefects and Longbottom, and it seemed that the nightmares had somewhat subsided, but she was far from believing Potter had a restful sleep. There was a reason why the boy sneaked out to fly most every night.

"Potter is just trying to draw more attention to himself," drawled Severus with distaste. "Hoping for some pity from his teachers. Just ignore him, like I do."

"Oh, is that what you do, Snape?" growled Moody. "You ignore him? Why do I have the feeling that Potter would be much happier if you really did that?"

"Potter's happiness is hardly anywhere in the list of my priorities," said Severus with indifference. "But unlike some, I don't allow the brat to get away with insolence or disobedience. The assignments I appoint are submitted in time and..." he sneered, "form, if one can say that of Potter's work."

"And pray, how do you manage that, Snape?" demanded Moody. "Do you threaten him with breaking one bone for each essay he doesn't turn in?"

"Not his bones," replied Severus smoothly. "Threatening his friends is a far better incentive than threatening Potter himself ever was. You should try it, Moody, I know you get off traumatizing Longbottom."

"You filthy b-"

"That's enough, Alastor, Severus," interrupted Dumbledore firmly, pinning both men with severe looks. "I'm sure neither of you would ever threaten a student with physical harm."

Pomona snorted.

"No, of course Severus would never do that," she said skeptically. "He only threatens —and harms— students' familiars."

"Students' familiars have been used as test subjects for potions ever since the Founders' days," lectured Severus, his professional tone somewhat ruined by the evil glint in his eyes as he stared down his colleague. "I always make sure no animal comes to lasting harm."

"I had to vanish the bones of Potter's dog to make them grow properly," accused Wilhelmina. "That animal didn't come out of your classroom without lasting harm."

"You fixed the harm," pointed out Severus with an unconcerned shrug. "So it wasn't lasting."

Pomona seemed ready to launch into one of her rants, but Dumbledore clearing his throat held her at bay.

"I have already discussed this matter privately with Severus, I do not wish to discuss it again in this setting," he said with finality. "Please let's go back to the purpose of this staff meeting, which is to discuss Mr. Potter's academic situation."

Half the people present seemed to bite their tongues to keep themselves from protesting. Severus' reprehensible behaviour during that abominable class with Potter's dog, combined with the man's foul attitude over the last few months (which seemed like the culmination of years of slowly increasing unpleasantness) had cut short the tolerance of those members of staff that had never been entirely convinced of Severus' true allegiance. Even Pomona and Filius —and Minerva, often— were having trouble putting up with their nasty colleague.

"Are we discussing Henry Potter?" asked Binns with a lost expression on his ghostly face. "That young man hasn't submitted any History assignments in a while."

There was a collective rolling of eyes around the table.

"We are addressing Mr. Harry Potter, Cuthbert," said Dumbledore patiently. "He is currently one of your fourth year students. I dare say you must see his name on his essays on a regular basis."

Binns thought for a moment.

"I don't recall grading any essays under that name lately either. Are you sure he attends my class?"

"Quite sure." Dumbledore hesitated. "At least I think so. Minerva?"

"Potter is still attending all his classes, as far as I know," she assured him. "I don't think it has occurred to him yet that he could just drop subjects."

"He can't," objected Filius. "That would be grounds for suspension or even expulsion. As it is, refusing to turn in assignments is already cause for detention."

"Oh, but rules don't seem to apply to Potter this year, Filius, haven't you noticed?" drawled Severus. "We are supposed to turn our eyes away and let him do whatever he wants. We can't even give him detention."

"You can't give him detention, Snape," corrected Moody. "And with good reason. Bad enough is that you're allowed to stand in the same classroom or even castle than the boy."

"Can the rest of us give Mr. Potter detention, then?" asked Aurora, ignoring the childish bickering. "Should we?"

"I doubt he will show up," said Severus unhelpfully. "And Dumbledore is about to say not to even try."

Dumbledore had just opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it at Severus' words, his expression one of amusement mixed with annoyance.

"Let's first assess the situation, shall we?" he said instead of whatever he had been about to say. "Then we can discuss how to proceed. I understand that Mr. Potter has been neglecting his subjects?"

"Not all of them," said Minerva. "He's actually doing better at Transfiguration, I have even been considering to offer him private tutoring."

Everyone, except Binns —who seemed to still be trying to place who Harry Potter was—, turned to look at her as if she had lost her mind.

"That's not possible," squeaked Filius. "We can't offer the champions additional instruction, Minerva. We have all tried," he paused to glare at Severus and corrected himself, "most of us have tried, unsuccessfully."

Oh, if you knew just how hard Severus has tried, Filius... and quite successfully. Of course, Filius' assumption was presently accurate, these days Severus would hardly stretch a finger to help Harry unless his Vow absolutely and expressively demanded it.

"I'm not talking about additional instruction," clarified Minerva. "But about tutoring on topics already covered in previous years. There are plenty elementary concepts that Potter still fails to grasp in Transfiguration."

"As in most subjects in existence," chimed in Severus. Minerva threw him a hard look, but he remained unfazed.

"That still sounds like something impossible to offer to a champion," said Pomona. "I have tried to help Cedric revise contents of previous years. Impossible."

"It wouldn't be my intent to help a champion," argued Minerva, refusing to let them take from her this tiny bit of optimism that had taken root inside her. "It is my standard teaching policy to offer private tutoring to any student who shows an obvious desire and effort to catch up with contents he or she has neglected in previous years. I would offer the same if Potter weren't a champion, although I suspect he wouldn't be trying to improve in my subject if his name hadn't come out of the Goblet."

She had a good feeling about this, and just like Severus she had learned to trust her gut when it came to dealing with the Goblet's restrictions. Potter truly —and surprizingly— was making an unprecedented effort in her class, and it was obvious that he needed guidance. As long as the will to improve came from him and he didn't ask nor expect help as a champion, Minerva was convinced that she should be able to offer some sort of assistance.

Her colleagues were regarding her with doubtful and even pitying expressions. Severus plainly thought she was a silly old woman thinking with her heart instead of her brain. Only Dumbledore seemed to be considering her idea seriously.

"I suppose you don't lose anything by trying, dear," he said gently after a quiet minute. "Harry will certainly appreciate the intention, even if it doesn't work."

"You would only be giving the boy false hope," objected Pomona. "Like dangling a carrot in front of him. Champions are better off if we stop trying to help, it just makes them feel worse."

"I agree with Pomona," said Filius. "Potter is also showing improvement in Charms, and under normal circumstances I also would offer him tutoring, or at least set him additional homework to guide his self-study, but I think it's safer not to dangle any carrots."

"Potter can ask his allies for help, in any case," added Pomona with some bitterness. "He has two gifted seventh year students fussing over him, he doesn't need our tutoring. Perhaps this meeting should be about Cedric instead, given that he doesn't have allies to help him."

"Is Cedric also neglecting his subjects?" asked Dumbledore with fatherly concern. "Of course we can add his case to the order of business in this meeting, Pomona, if you feel it has to be addressed."

Pomona shook her head.

"No, Cedric seems to be doing fine," she admitted with a sigh. "He has always been a very well organized student. I'm just frustrated because he has been left out of this general alliance, don't mind me."

"You don't know if he was left out," said Minerva sharply. "Perhaps Diggory simply refused the invitation. Potter seems the type to welcome everyone in."

"Indeed, the glorious saviour would never leave anyone out," sneered Severus. "Potter should be in Hufflepuff with Diggory, I'm sure they will all end up a happy family before long."

"We can hope," said Dumbledore, pretending not to notice Severus' derisive tone. Minerva wasn't sure if the tone was authentic or faked. It would increase even more Harry's chances of survival if Diggory joined the alliance too, but impaired by his current irrationality Severus probably saw that as a bad thing. "Back to the matter at hand, then. Apparently Mr. Potter is neglecting some subjects, while improving in others."

"He's clearly prioritizing," said Aurora. "He doesn't think Astronomy is important to survive the third task."

"It isn't," rasped Moody. "The boy is being smart, putting to better use his time and attention."

"We can surmise that it's Krum and Delacour's influence, then," said Severus, "since Potter is barely able to spell the word 'prioritization'."

"If you're not going to contribute anything but scathing remarks, perhaps you should leave, Severus," snapped Minerva.

"I would gladly do just that," retorted the infuriating man. "I have left potions on the fire. But I suspect the Headmaster would prefer the dungeons blowing up rather than allowing me to leave this pointless meeting."

"I trust that you have arranged things so that nothing will blow up without your blessing, Severus," said Dumbledore. "And discussing Harry's education isn't pointless, even if we can do little and less at the moment. Perhaps you could give a report on Mr. Potter's performance in your class?"

Severus pursed his lips in irritation, but after an angry moment he resigned himself to comply.

"Potter's performance in Potions is as abysmal as ever. He definitely is not trying to improve, and I'm certain that he would completely neglect the subject if he thought he could get away with it. As it is, he does the minimum required."

"Well, Potions is not a priority either," observed Aurora, earning herself a deadly glare from the Potions Master.

"For your information," he said haughtily, "there have been plenty of challenges involving Potions in the history of the Triwizard Tournament. The idiot boy actually used a potions ingredient in the second task, and in his ignorance almost suffocates himself."

"That would have been tragic, right Snape?" growled Moody. "If you had not rushed to assist..."

"It sounds like you would have preferred me not assisting," said Severus coldly. "I have to wonder, Moody, whether you care more about Potter's survival or about my downfall."

"I think the two are closely connected, Snape," said the Auror, his normal eye narrowing.

"Alastor," chided Dumbledore. "The fact is that Severus did assist Harry with his respiratory problem. Please refrain yourself from throwing accusations at him until he actually does something wrong. Perhaps you could give your report on Harry next?"

Moody continued glaring at Severus with utter loathing for several seconds before crossing his arms and turning his normal eye to the Headmaster.

"The kid's a natural at Defence," he said with a shrug. "Not much work put into essays, but who cares? A bit of difficulty in practicals, since nobody can aim anything worse than a Stinging Hex or a fist at him. He'll have to practice his shields with his supposed allies, and hope they don't try to kill him."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and turned next to Pomona.

"I wouldn't say Potter is neglecting Herbology," she said. "He does well enough, perhaps because he works with Longbottom in class and it would be hard not to enjoy plants with such a partner. His essays are acceptable, although of less quality than before."

"That's because Miss Granger has stopped checking his work, I think," observed Filius. "But apparently she helped less than I had thought; Potter is perfectly capable of doing his own assignments, if with a bit less structure and a few more spelling errors."

"Perhaps you should look up the definition of 'a bit' and 'a few', Filius," drawled Severus. "Potter's assignments are almost as undecipherable as Longbottom's."

"That's an unfair comparison, Severus," said Filius sharply. "Unless Potter is intentionally submitting unreadable work for your benefit."

Pomona chuckled, and a few others joined in. Severus glared at Filius but held his tongue.

"Well," intervened Wilhelmina, "I haven't been Potter's teacher for too long, so I'm not sure I can properly assess how his work might have deteriorated, but he does reasonably well in class and turns in acceptable assignments. I have noticed an attitude problem, though. Not that I pay much attention to the glares of surly teenagers, but I thought I should mention that he has always been a bit rude to me."

"Ah, that might not have anything to do with you, Wilhelmina," said Dumbledore. "Harry was rather attached to Hagrid, I fear he might still have trouble accepting his replacement."

"And of course that's a perfect excuse for a student to be rude," commented Severus.

"It is not," said Dumbledore, ignoring the sarcasm. "I will speak to Harry, Wilhelmina, and I'm sure he will apologize to you. Mr. Potter has been under a lot of pressure this year, and numerous allowances have been made for him, but he still owes his teachers the proper respect."

"What are we to do about the unsubmitted assignments?" asked Aurora before Severus could retort. "Or about his lack of attention in class? I would say that qualifies as disrespect, but Potter has never been less than polite to me. He just doesn't want to study Astronomy. Should I give him detention? Continue taking points? What if he just stops showing up?"

"Oh, I dearly hope Mr. Potter will not abandon my class!" exclaimed Sybill. "Sometimes I catch a glimpse in the Crystal Ball, very similar to the vision I had before that narrow-minded girl, Miss Granger, left us forever. Mr. Potter's future is not yet well defined, but I fear. Yes, I fear."

Minerva pursed her lips and tried not to snap at the fraud, while Dumbledore as usual pretended to take Sybill's histrionics seriously.

"I fear too that might be a possibility, dear Sybill," he said gently. "But if that is in the cards —or in the Crystal Ball—, I don't think we should fight it. Some things are meant to happen, as you well know."

"Oh, yes, Headmaster, that I do know," said the fake Seer solemnly, her insipient tears forgotten.

Aurora rolled her eyes.

"Does that mean we are to let Mr. Potter do as he pleases?" she asked.

Dumbledore considered the subject in silence for several minutes.

"Yes, I believe that would be best," he said finally. "Minerva could probably discuss this issue with Mr. Potter, as his Head of House, but I don't think we should interfere. We must trust that Harry —and the other champions too— know what they need to prioritize."

"What will happen next year, though, if he significantly neglects some subjects?" asked Pomona.

"We will discuss that when the time comes," said Dumbledore simply. And they all understood the rest: If he survives.

"Well, it is a relief that this meeting didn't end up being pointless after all," drawled Severus, standing up. "Now, I predict that the dungeons will blow up if I don't stir a cauldron in the next..." he consulted a pocket watch. "Twelve minutes. And my predictions are always accurate," he sneered at Sybill, who sniffed indignantly. "I know that the Slytherins are not your favourite students, Headmaster, but it might be hard for you to explain to the Ministry why you allowed a quarter of the student body to be walled up in the bowels of the castle."

Dumbledore sighed and made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Go stir that cauldron, then, Severus," he said. "You may use the Floo, if you're so pressed by time."

Severus ignored him and stalked to the door instead, the atmosphere in the staff room relaxing considerably at his departure. Still, they all remained a little tense for the next twelve minutes, and when the clock over the mantelpiece indicated the predicted time was almost up Minerva could have sworn that everyone —except Binns— held their breaths. Of course no one really believed Severus would brew and leave unsupervised inside the castle a potion capable of such destruction, but it was a relief nonetheless when nothing seemed to blow up under their feet.

The meeting went on for a while longer, in a much lighter tone now that Severus wasn't there being his acerbic Self and provoking Moody with his mere presence. Minerva brought up again her intention of offering private tutoring to Potter, and after explaining again her reasoning and even her gut-feeling Filius decided to give it a shot too. Since they were already gathered, they used the occasion to also discuss Longbottom, all unanimously agreeing that he was doing well and better which each passing day even taking into consideration that Severus seemed to have long forgotten that he wasn't supposed to terrorize the boy anymore. What would happen with Potions, they had no idea, but in the rest of his subjects Neville seemed to have a better chance of passing to fifth year than Harry would if he weren't exempted from final exams.

Not knowing why she even bothered, once the assembly was dismissed Minerva directed her steps towards Severus' quarters (or more exactly towards her quarters so she could access his through the Floo, since she wasn't in the mood to try and get past the usual notice-me-not charm nor to guess his passwords). Severus' lab wasn't technically a part of his private quarters, but he kept the place similarly warded so she knew it would be easier to reach it from the inside.

When she stepped out of his fireplace, however, she heard sounds coming from Severus' study, so she directed her steps there instead.

"You know, one of these days you are going to walk in to find me sitting in my couch completely naked," drawled the man without looking up from the book he had his nose buried in. "The awkwardness of such situation could easily be avoided if you just announced yourself before intruding in my personal space."

Minerva rolled her eyes.

"I have already seen all there is to see of you, Severus," she said, wincing internally at the memory of his burnt body after the first task. Her eyes had been mostly focused on the injuries or on the disturbing mark on Severus' arm, but everything had been uncovered at one point. "And it's not like you announce yourself before intruding in my personal space."

"You have a perfectly acceptable Patronus to send ahead of you."

"And you don't?" she asked, genuinely curious. In the fifteen years they had been colleagues, never once she had received a silver messenger from him; he always used house-elves or the Floo to communicate inside the castle. She remembered hearing Griselda mentioning once that she had given extra marks to Severus in his DADA NEWT for demonstrating a corporeal Patronus, but perhaps he was no longer able. It certainly became harder with age and hardships.

"I don't exactly have a well of happy memories to choose from," he drawled as he turned a page with a wave of his wand. He looked up and pierced her with hard, unforgiving black eyes. "Save your pity, I am content with my unhappiness."

Minerva very much doubted that, but she did her best to quench her pity or at least hide it.

"Not everyone rejoices in unhappiness, you know," she said. "In fact, we would all appreciate it if you didn't try so hard to spread your bitterness. You were particularly obnoxious today."

"You can hardly expect me to behave differently after being trapped in a room with Moody, Trelawney and the old fool to discuss how everyone must cater to Potter's every whim."

Minerva sighed and looked around. While his office's walls were lined with an ever growing collection of disgusting specimens, Severus's study was completely lined by books that emanated an equally revolting aura. His Dark Arts' collection, she realized. He presently had several mouldy books spread open over his desk, and one suspended in midair by silver chains connected to ceiling and walls. Every few seconds the chains rattled as if the book were trying to break free of them. Severus paid it no notice while he perused his current reading material and occasionally took careful notes on a side parchment.

"What is all this?" she asked, not sure she really wanted to know. Dark Magic made her deeply uncomfortable, but she supposed it might be a good thing if Severus was once again researching ways to help Harry, even if his methods were highly questionable. "Something Vow-related?"

His already hard expression hardened even more, his lips pursing in a thin line while his dark eyes flashed dangerously.

"I told you I'm done with the Vow," he spat, emphasizing his words with an angry scratch of his quill on the parchment. "If you must know, this is an experimental project I'm working on now that I have stopped wasting all my free time giving a damn about the brat."

"Severus..."

"Don't," he cut her off, writing a final note and shutting closed the nasty book. He retrieved another watch from another pocket and studied it for a moment. Minerva had so far counted four different watches that Severus produced on different occasions. She knew one of them was a lunar watch, and that at least one told the actual time, the others she assumed were related to his brewing. "I don't want to hear a word about that insolent little wretch."

He stood up and walked out of the study taking his notes with him. After a brief internal struggle, Minerva followed.

"Potter is doing exactly what you wanted him to do," she said exasperatedly as she walked after him. "He's prioritizing his survival over inane classes, allying himself with more skilled champions, ignoring rules that work against him..."

"I don't bloody care what he's doing!" snarled Severus, slamming open the lab's door. "I told you I don't want to hear about the brat!"

Minerva was about to snarl back when she got distracted by her surroundings. Severus' private lab wasn't too big, it held only two work stations, but as usual there were more than just two cauldrons in use at the moment, occupying every available surface in the room. Six, no, seven potions bubbling simultaneously and without constant supervision seemed a bit much, though. And she could tell that they weren't standard potions.

"Are you brewing Wolfsbane?" she asked in surprize, her recent frustration almost forgotten.

"Does this look like Wolfsbane to you?" sneered the man as he approached one cauldron and stirred it carefully three times clockwise followed by four and a half times counterclockwise. He had already tied back his hair the way he did during serious brewing.

"Looks close enough," she said defensively. Minerva had a good enough knowledge of Potions, she was actually qualified to cover Severus' classes from first to fifth year if necessary (not that it ever was, the man hadn't missed a day of work since he had taken his job at Hogwarts), but the Wolfsbane Potion hadn't even been invented when she was a student. She had seen Severus brewing it last year, though, and then there had also been multiple cauldrons going at the same time, also filled with potions in various shades of dark grey.

"It's not Wolfsbane," said her colleague derisively. "The only thing I will ever brew again for a werewolf is poison. One of these might do the trick, actually," he added regarding the cauldrons before him with a vicious expression. A few seconds later he shook his head as if to clear it from a dark fantasy and moved towards a cauldron that contained a nearly black potion. "Step back."

Minerva retreated a few steps and watched silently as her colleague rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his ugly mark —it looked more defined and intense, she noticed with uneasiness— and then lifted a silver blade in his right hand. She didn't understand what he was about to do until he was already doing it, and then she covered her mouth with one hand and wished to have retreated a hundred additional steps.

If something she definitely knew about Potions was that contamination could be catastrophic. A single misplaced hair could ruin the preparation, while a drop of blood could cause an explosion. Severus had sliced the crook of his arm and held it over the simmering cauldron, allowing his blood to pour freely for several seconds.

He was still bleeding when the potion began to hiss and spit angrily in an obvious negative reaction to the grisly ingredient, and he was still bleeding when the cauldron began to melt. Severus vanished the whole mess with a lazy flick of his wand before proceeding to heal the cut in his arm and clean the blood on the floor and on his robes. Then he just sat and began calmly taking notes as if nothing had happened.

Minerva stood there, staring with her mouth dry, for what felt like five whole minutes.

"What exactly are you working on, Severus?" she finally managed to ask, her voice not exactly steady.

"I have already stated it's an experimental project," he answered evasively while he consulted yet another pocket watch. "Everything is under control."

She took a deep breath. Sometimes Severus really frightened her. He was a Master Potioneer, and one of the best, so if he said he had the experiment under control it must be true, but he was also not exactly mentally stable at the moment so Minerva couldn't help to worry.

"Severus..."

"This lab will be brimming with Dark Magic in about forty seconds, Minerva," he informed her. "You might want to step out."

"Dark Magic?" she repeated in alarm. "You're using Dark Magic in experimental potions?"

"Thirty-five seconds," he warned. "It won't harm you to watch, but I'm guessing you would rather not be here."

Minerva continued staring at her colleague for several more seconds, thinking that he looked every bit like the dark wizard that he actually was, until she saw him pull out his wand again and move to stand over another cauldron.

Her heart beat wildly and her mind was swirling as she fled the lab leaving a possibly mad warlock behind.