Chapter 25: The Test
"What's that, Morrigan?" said Snape in a greasy voice that matched his hair.
Well, there's no backing down now, thought Ariadne. "I said, my Draught of Living Death is impeccable, and I challenge you to do better."
Snape slowly advanced toward her cauldron. "Care to test that theory?"
Ariadne knew that this was a challenge Snape didn't expect her to accept. The Draught of Living Death induced an intense comatose state in its subject, and was very dangerous if brewed improperly. A Draught that was even the tiniest bit off could poison you or result in death. The measurements of ingredients, temperature, concentration, spells, and process of brewing had to be exactly right to produce that deep, cold sleep that perfectly mimicked death.
"I don't need to test my potion to know that it's getting an Outstanding," she told Snape.
His lip curled. "I thought not," he said, turning back to his cauldron.
"Wait," said Sirius, coming forward so he stood between Ariadne and Snape. "I'll test it."
"Excuse me?" said Ariadne, unable to disguise her surprise. Snape seemed caught off guard, too.
"You can test your Draught on me," repeated Sirius calmly. "Snivellus will probably have to test his on himself, as I doubt he'll find anyone willing to take that risk for him," he added.
"Sirius, that really isn't necessary," Ariadne replied, trying to de-escalate the situation.
"No, let's have it. Not-good-enough-for-Slytherin Sirius Black and his dirty-blood girlfriend think they can top my Draught of Living Death," replied Snape with a sneer. "We'll see."
Every ounce of Ariadne's resolution to walk away evaporated. "Your pure blood won't save you when it's frozen in your veins like ice, Severus," she said quietly.
"Dungeons under the Astronomy Tower. Nine o'clock tonight." Snape slouched off to his corner of the classroom as the Potions master returned to check on everyone's progress. Ariadne surreptitiously ladled out a single dose of her draught into a small vial. She glanced at Sirius, and he grinned back.
"You know that you don't need to do this, right?" Ariadne told Sirius for the umpteenth time that evening.
"No, I had no idea. It's not like a certain overanxious prefect has been telling that me every quarter-hour on the dot," replied Sirius sarcastically.
"We don't need to play Snape's game in order to prove that we're better than him. We don't need to prove anything at all to someone who uses the term 'dirty blood,'" continued Ariadne, as if trying to talk herself out of what they were about to do.
Ariadne saw Sirius's fist clench around his wand when she uttered the words "dirty blood." "I hope Snivellus poisons himself with his own potion so we never have to deal with the idiocy that comes out of his mouth again."
"Don't say that, Sirius," said Ariadne quietly.
Sirius turned to look at her, and she noticed the grip on his wand relaxed at the sound of her saying his name. "I can't make him take back what he said, but the next best thing would be watching you destroy him at something he thinks he's good at."
"I didn't think comments like that would mean much to you. I mean, you don't actually wish you were in Slytherin, do you? Especially considering how Slytherins have been going these days. It's hardly a legitimate house any more," commented Ariadne.
Sirius looked at her as if she had missed something completely obvious in a way that was amused, and slightly pitying, and maybe a little…affectionate? "I take 'not-good-enough-for-Slytherin' as the highest form of compliment, Morrigan. Ever since I learned what Slytherin House was and that my entire family was in it, I wished for nothing more than to not be in that house."
"So you're about to voluntarily put yourself into a deathlike coma…just to humiliate Snape?"
Sirius looked away but continued to walk briskly alongside her. "Well, I think you might underestimate a little how much pleasure I take in humiliating Snivellus. But mostly, it's his choice of language towards you that I find unforgivable."
Ariadne failed to disguise her surprise for the second time that day. "Are you…defending me?"
Sirius sighed. "I know you're going to say, 'I don't need anyone to stand up for me, especially not a man,' or something along those lines. Just let me do this one thing. For both of us."
Ariadne had opened her mouth to express precisely that thought, but closed it. Sirius was coming to know her unnervingly well. "Well, perhaps 'defend' wasn't the most accurate choice of words, considering that you'll be unconscious on the floor in a deep coma for most of this. Not the typical behavior of a gallant knight defending the lady," she said instead.
"But when have we ever been typical?" rejoined Sirius, eyes dancing.
Ariadne looked at the floor, not sure how to respond to his demonstration of loyalty towards her. Sirius seemed to know what she was thinking (again.) "You stood up to Clarice for us," he said in a low voice. "Don't think I didn't notice. I'm only doing the same."
They had arrived at the dungeons at the base of the Astronomy Tower. Ariadne abruptly changed the subject to avoid answering Sirius. "You know, I'm almost certain Snape is half-blood himself. Half-bloods are always the most insecure about their blood status, and the most obsessed with being 'pure.' If a such thing as 'pure-blood' even exists anymore."
"I imagine you're probably right," said Sirius, now gazing down the dimly lit corridor. As if on cue, a shadowy figure in overlarge robes emerged from the darkness, carrying a small flask.
Sirius ran his fingers through his dark hair in his customary way. "Let's do this, Morrigan."
"I've brought an impartial witness to judge our contest and guard against any…foul play," said Snape silkily, gesturing toward a tall, skinny Ravenclaw with a Quidditch badge affixed to his robes.
It was Clarice's boyfriend, the Ravenclaw chaser Florian Clarke.
Ariadne recognized him instantly and glanced at Sirius to confirm that he had too. Florian nodded at her curtly in greeting. "Miss Morrigan." He then extended his hand toward Sirius and said in a soft, rather haughty voice, "And I don't believe we've met…?"
Ariadne knew that Florian's polite stranger act was a pretense, because due to one or another of his magical, rebellious, or amorous exploits, every single person in Hogwarts castle knew who Sirius Black was. Florian was simply making it clear how little he thought of Sirius.
"Sirius Black," answered Sirius, unsmiling and gripping Florian's hand rather firmly, Ariadne noticed.
"Pleasure," responded Florian, with very little of said emotion showing on his face.
"I truly wish I could say the same," said Sirius dryly. Fortunately, Florian chose not to respond.
"So," said Ariadne, already tired of the formalities and ready to move on to business, "we should agree on a dose to administer to our subjects. One-half of a fluid ounce should be more than sufficient, at least for a potent brew." She couldn't help looking at Snape while saying this. One-half of a fluid ounce would work if the potion was brewed to precisely the right potency, but wouldn't cut it for a weak draught. "I estimate my potion will take effect almost instantly and last for thirty minutes."
"Thirty-five," answered Snape in a cold voice.
"Well, whoever's draught lasts longer will have that count toward their marks," said Ariadne. "I've brought a thermometer—" she held up the small magical device—"as a qualifying Draught of Living Death should reduce the subject's body temperature below 30 degrees. There should also be no perceptible signs of breathing, pulse or a heartbeat. The subject should be completely immobile. Their state should be virtually indistinguishable…from death."
She turned to Florian. "Are you confident you can identify the signs of a Draught of Living Death?" she asked.
Florian's otherwise expressionless mouth curled into a slight sneer. "I've opened a potions textbook since fourth-year, if that's what you're asking."
Ariadne resisted the urge to roll her eyes and nodded. She at last held up the vial of liquid stowed in her pocket. "Exactly one-half of a fluid ounce," she said, holding it up to Snape. Snape said nothing, but merely held up his own identical vial.
"Whenever you're ready, then," said Ariadne. She turned to Sirius. "Last chance to change your mind, Black."
He grinned at her. "I've never looked forward to something so much in my life."
"You're going to stiffen and collapse as soon as you drink this, so you might as well start off laying down to minimize the damage," she said, kneeling to the floor and offering her lap.
Sirius acquiesced and settled himself slowly and carefully against her. Ariadne now found herself in the unexpectedly intimate position of cradling Sirius Black's head in her lap. Slightly flustered, she grabbed the flask of potion and handed it to him. Seemingly unperturbed by the entire situation, Sirius merely winked at her, said "Bottoms up!" and drained the flask. At the same time just behind her, Snape drank his own potion. Ariadne tried to relax. There was nothing more to do but wait.