After another fifteen minutes I could do nothing but stare at Snape in astonishment. Nothing had changed. He still looked like me.
Eventually I said; "This is not polyjuice potion"
Chapter 3:
The sound of my voice pulled Snape out of his pacing. "How is this possible? I have never seen anything like it! Polyjuice never lasts for more than an hour, and I have never heard of any other magic that can give someone this good a resemblance to someone else."
Neither had I. But if this was not polyjuice it had to be some kind of transfiguration, right? Snape must have thought the same thing, because he pulled out his wand and performed a series of diagnostic spells on me. "You do not seem to have drunk any Polyjuice potion, or used any other magic to change your appearance for the last few days . . ."
"Well of course not, I am a metamorph – . . . wait, nothing?"
"No, whatever this is, it is not a polyjuice potion" he said slowly.
I stood up and performed the same diagnostic spells over Snape. Nothing. He hadn't even used a spot removal. At that moment, a thought hit me.
Could it be . . . ? I had to make sure.
"I want you to close your eyes and concentrate hard on your hair and the colour green" I said slowly. His eyes widened when he understood my point "You do not think . . . but how can that be possible?"
"We have to check, don't we?"
He gave a short nod and closed his eyes. After a few seconds his (or rather my) hair was emerald green.
It's hard to explain how I felt at that point. It was too unreal. After a long pause I finally managed to say; "That explains a few things . . ." Even though my heart raced furiously, my voice sounded surprisingly calm. Snape, who probably couldn't see his hair, gave me a questioning look. "You see, whenever I drink polyjuice potion I still keep my metamorphmagus abilities. But anyone who tries to turn into me are disappointed because they don't gain the ability with polyjuice. The metamorphmagi is linked to me, not my appearance. But . . . you just . . . "
"I just did it" he stated with wide eyes. "You are implying . . . that I am currently in your . . . real body. That this is not just some magically induced copy . . . " He grabbed at his hair with both hands "how is that physically possible? It means that our souls must have left its body completely and entered another, somehow without dying in the process. It is insane!"
"How else would you explain the hair colour?"
Snape suddenly grabbed my left arm and yanked up the sleeve. What I saw there made my heart stop and I nearly gasped. There, in clear contrast to the white of my forearm, was the dark mark. I knew that Snape was a spy for the order but up until that point I had never considered the fact that he had to bear Lord Voldemort's mark. The fact that he really had been one of them before he turned over to our side. The mark looked even more repulsive than I remembered. It seemed to stand out too clearly against my pale skin and I wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. Whatever it took. Cut the hand off if necessary.
"I don't suppose tattoos are revealed when you use Polyjuice potion" my voice shook a bit.
"No" said Snape. His expression was grave "not this one".
I didn't feel too good myself at that moment. I was stuck in the body of a former death eater, and I had no idea of how to get back to my own. I had never heard of any potions or spells that could literally make a soul leave its own body and enter another. It shouldn't be possible. At least not as far as we knew. Yet, there we were. Both equally baffled and both at loss of what to do next. What if we could never find a way to change back? What if I was stuck as Severus Snape forever? The thought made my heart sink even further.
"We need to talk to Dumbledore" I don't recall who said it. We might even have said it at the same time. My thoughts were far too chaotic to register. Snape headed over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo-powder from a pot on the mantlepiece. "The password to his office is Gummy Bears" he informed me before he yelled his destination into the fireplace and disappeared in a burst of green flames. I followed at close heel. "HEADMASTERS OFFICE, HOGWARTS, GUMMY BEARS!" I yelled (The last part felt ridiculous, typical Albus) and I spun around quickly while I passed hundreds of fireplaces. When I finally reduces speed, I tucked my elbows in and soon enough I stood in headmaster Albus Dumbledores office. I ignored the soot on my billowing robes and went further into the office.
Snape, already standing before the big desk in the middle of the room spoke quickly "- to talk to you of an important matter headmaster". Behind the desk sat Dumbledore himself with a mildly interested expression. It occurred to me that he was wide awake and fully dressed . . . at four in the morning.
"Severus" he said when he spotted me. "This matter is about you too?"
"Ah, yes" I answered hesitantly while I stood beside Snape. "We have a problem . . ."
"Sit down you two" said Albus and gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Nymphadora, why don't you start?"
"How many times do I have to tell you Albus, not to call me Nymphadora?" I blurted without thinking. Albus moved his gaze away from Snape, who he had expected to answer and gave me a confused look. "Alright Severus, I won't . . . but I was not really talking to-"
"I am not Severus . . ." I said and felt my face heat up. Then I pointed at Snape "He is"
"Aha" the headmaster smiled as if he had understood the joke "I do appreciate a good laugh now and then"
"This is certainly not a joke Albus!" Snape exclaimed. He shot up, wand in hand, and looked as if he wanted to curse the headmaster to bits. Luckily, he didn't. Instead, he started pacing. Albus got the same befuddled expression. I hurriedly explained about everything from the moment we had woken up that morning. At the end of my tale, Albus looked astonished. "How could this be true? It has to be a trick, I am sure."
"Albus, do you really believe I could convince Snape to join me with a prank on you?" he went quiet for a second and then he nodded. Thankfully, Snape didn't seem to be insulted by this implication.
"This is a unique situation I must say, I have never heard of anything like it. I wonder if any of you have an idea of what might have happened?" Snape shook his head, but I hesitated. "I remember having a drink last night and I asked Professor Snape to join me. Do you think it might have been a potion?" I asked. Then I turned to Snape when I realized something "We were only drinking butterbeer. Why would we black out from that? Last time I checked, butterbeer is not even alcoholic." Snape frowned, probably in agreement I decided. Albus looked thoughtful for a moment. "Will you show me the bottles from last night?" he asked.
We flooed back to Grimmaulds place where Albus instantly grabbed one of the empty butterbeer bottles from the table. He cast a series of silent spells over it and muttered to himself under his breath. His brows furrowed in concentration. Snape, who came last through the fireplace grabbed another bottle and cast his own silent spells over it. I felt too agitated to move around in the kitchen. I would probably tip every chair in the room if I tried. I remained standing by the fireplace where I would be out of the way. Besides, Snape was still using my wand and I didn't feel comfortable with his.
"There are no traces of potions on any of the bottles," said Snape after a while. Albus continued to mutter to himself. Then he said; "then again, there is not much left in them to examine. It might be too little of the potion to give good results."
Snapes brows furrowed further. "It should still give some results, I am sure. If this is indeed caused by a potion, the key ingredients should have to be in high concentrations."
"Not necessarily" said the headmaster, seemingly in deep thought. "If there is a vast array of ingredients in small amounts, they might not –"
"Headmaster, no potion that I know of is composed of so many ingredients together. There would have to be more than three hundred different components to dilute the others."
"Yes, it must have." Albus answered. Then he got a thoughtful expression "Oh, dear" he sat down on one of the chairs and gave us a long look. His eyes didn't twinkle like they usually did.
"What?" asked Snape, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice "do you know something?"
The headmaster stood up and took a few steps towards the fireplace, turned back again, and sat down. "I do not suppose any of you have heard the tale of the Whishing well?"
". . . The children's tale?" I asked sceptically.
"The tale of the Wishing well is much more than a children's tale my dear. You might have heard different versions of the story. A tale of a well that can make your wildest dreams come true, as long as you give the proper payment. Others might have heard of a well that whispers in the night and sings in the day where any of whom drinks from it will gain eternal life. Few of these versions are even moderately close to the truth. However, all of them originate from the same legend. The legend of the Well of Lives."
Snape frowned "You mean 'The Well of Life'?"
"No, my boy. 'The Well of Lives', or to put it in other words, 'The Well of Different Lives'" said Dumbledore.
"Many years ago, there were tales of a well or a little pond or maybe even a lake on an island in the sea not far from the castle of Bruberg with the power to change the drinkers lives forever. Any lonesome drinker were in danger of poisoning and death, but when two people drank together, something extraordinary happened. They were able to take over the other person's body, or switch lives as it were. A person who was unhappy with his life might be able to find someone who was willing to switch with them and they could both walk away from there with a completely new life to fulfill. However, about five hundred years ago, the well was destroyed, and the island disappeared. Some say it was blown up, others say the well was in fact a volcano and that it erupted in the middle ages, sinking both the island and the well into the ocean. Nobody knows for sure. There were very few visitors heard of. However, the last people known to do so are said to have brought some of the water with them, stored in an airtight bottle. In fact, sources have it that the last visitor was none other than sir Nicolas DeMimsy Porpington."
". . . Nearly headless nick?" I asked dubiously.
"The very one. But it is not clear whether it was Sir Nicolas himself or a relative of his. Nick would never tell me" Dumbledore looked a little disappointed at this. "Because of the value of its content, the bottle has been passed down through generations of descendants from Sir Nicolas's family until it came into the hands of a close friend of mine, Amaryllis Peduncle."
Snape listened to his tale with a dubious expression on his face "Do you actually expect us to believe–?"
"Let me finish Severus" Albus said calmly.
"Amaryllis is a well-known name in the research field, and she is especially accomplished in potions. I am sure you have heard of her." Albus looked expectantly at Snape who nodded. "A few months ago, she announced that she was to open the bottle and examine the content. However, other researchers have for several years tried to buy, borrow, or even steal the bottle for their own. Because of curiosity or to gain the attention or praise themselves if they figure out what is in the bottle. None has succeeded until this month. Two weeks ago, Amaryllis discovered that her mystery bottle had been stolen."
"You are suggesting that the potion in the ancient bottle somehow ended up in Grimmauld place? Are you listening to yourself? Do you really believe that this mad lady is telling the truth?" Snape said dubiously. "You do not think she is lying about the bottle for attention?"
"Amaryllis is a highly respected woman in the research field, and she happens to be a good friend of mine. I have high respect for her, and I suggest you do not utter comments such as this before you know the person you are talking of." Dumbledore said with a warning tone. Snape went quiet but he didn't lose the dubious look on his face.
I secretly agreed with Snape. The story sounded like rubbish. How was a magic well with the power to change your life supposed to exist? And if it did, how could a potion stay untouched in a bottle for several hundred years? If Nearly headless Nick who was supposed to have travelled there refused to confirm the story, then it probably wasn't true. The most likely explanation was that the woman, Amaryllis, told a lie to keep her esteemed position as a respected researcher.
But how could Albus believe her story?
Then again, what other explanation were there? I was willing to try anything. And when had Albus ever been wrong? I didn't consider Albus as omniscient. Far from it, he was human after all, but seeing that he was a lot more experienced in life than me, I was inclined to listen to him.
"If what you say is true and this Amaryllis really had a sample of the wishing-well water how do you suggest it ended up here in Grimmauld place? If it was stolen I-" but I already knew before I finished my question. "Mundungus Fletcher".
"I think you might be right, Sev- I mean Miss Tonks" Albus said with a small smile. Mundungus had an extensive reputation among the aurors as a petty criminal; however, criminals hear things that nobody else hears and so he was a useful resource for the Order. But, although the man seemed harmless enough, he constantly tried to hide his loot at Grimmauld place. None of the other order members appreciated that habit. If Mundungus had stolen the ancient bottle from this Amaryllis woman, he might have hidden it in Grimmauld Place, concealed as butterbeer. What kind of idiot would put bottles with some ancient potion in the pantry with the rest of the butterbeer, where anyone could accidentally drink it?
"Even if the story fits, headmaster, it cannot possibly be true. We are talking about a magic lake of potion existing long enough for it to be a legend, then collected in a bottle and preserved for five hundred years. I am sure you realize how unlikely that sounds" said Snape.
"I am quite aware that it seems unlikely Severus. But there are many aspects of magic that wizards have never discovered. Besides, what other explanation is there? There are no potions today that I have heard of with this kind of effect. This is the only clue we have. Perhaps Amaryllis has already figured out the code of the potion and successfully brewed it herself. It might be that Mr Fletcher stole the newly brewed potion and not an ancient sample, which would explain why it is working. Perhaps what was passed down in Amaryllises family was the knowledge of how to make the potion and not the original potion itself?"
Snape gave a huff of annoyance at the headmaster's words. He didn't look convinced, but he didn't offer any further protests.
"I believe I need to go speak with my friend Amaryllis about the matter, she might be the only one who knows how to fix this problem. I suggest you two wait in my office in case Amaryllis wants to see you herself."
"Headmaster! You cannot possibly expect us to sit still and wait for you to come back. I want to come with you!" Snape protested.
"Amaryllis is quite vary of strangers in her house" Dumbeldore said with a bit of warning in his tone. "It would be rude of me to impose her with two strangers so early in the morning." I will ask her to come with me to my office at Hogwarts. I cannot bring her to Grimmauld place, so I suggest you wait there." He stood and made to leave. Then he turned "Be nice to each other" he warned before he went out the door. Probably to apparate outside the house.
Snape was fuming and muttered some explicit curse words while he stomped over to the fireplace and flooed back to the headmasters' office. I followed in a calmer pace, but I was also fuming inwardly. I could understand that it was rude to barge in at Amaryllis's place with two strangers but to leave us alone with nothing to do but wait? And the nerve of him to tell us to be nice to each other as if we were children! (Well . . . perhaps Snape needed to hear it).
There was an awkward silence between us in the minutes that followed. Now that I was over the first shock of finding myself in the body of someone else, I couldn't shake off the awareness that I was in fact; male. A sickly thin male at that. I tried to ignore the boniness of his joints and the unfamiliar bulk between my legs, but in vain. It was terribly distracting.
Snape looked even less comfortable than me. His back was unnaturally stiff, and he seemed to look anywhere else than at me or at any of his own (or my own) body parts. Could this be his strange way of signalling to me that he had no intention in taking advantage of his new situation? In that case I thought his actions were oddly sweet. Uncharacteristically so actually. I had never thought of Snape as a man who cared about what others thought of him.
I noticed that green hair didn't suit me very well. A note for later. While I studied him, he glanced at me and went even more rigid if that was possible. "What?" he asked harshly, but not hostile I noticed.
"You know, I won't judge you if you relax a bit." I said calmly. He studied me for a moment before he dropped his shoulders a tiny bit. I tried in vain not to smile at his behaviour, then I noticed he was still holding my wand. I drew his out of my pocket and handed it over to him "here."
He took it without a word and handed mine over to me. It was a relief to get it back. Snape's wand had felt okay enough in my hand but my own felt like it belonged. If felt warm and familiar as I held it.
"It is curious that our wands seem to know who they belong to even though we are physically someone else" Snape said after a while. Perhaps he wanted to break the awkward silence.
"Maybe our magic is attached to our soul, so that when the soul moves somewhere else the magic follows?" I suggested.
Snape studied his wand in deep thought "I suppose you're right. That might explain why only wizards can become ghosts. The magic attached to the soul is what keeps them back in this world."
"You might have a point there, Professor"
The fireplace roared, and out came Dumbledore, closely followed by a plump elderly woman with a pointy nose and pigtails. Her robes had a strikingly colourful bohemian pattern that hurt my eyes. "These are the unfortunate victims?" she asked Dumbledore quite eagerly and without even waiting for an answer she started casting diagnostic spells over the closest one of us, which happened to be me. "Well, this is quite shocking news, I must say" she exclaimed. After she was finished with me, she went over to Snape to perform the same diagnostic spells. "I never though the potion would keep its effect after five hundred years in a bottle. This is quite curious. And none of you remember anything of the night?"
"I remember drinking butterbeer but after that it is blank" I answered sincerely.
The woman continued to ask questions about what we remembered and our physical conditions, how we woke up that morning and if we had experienced any faintness or other illnesses yet. I answered most of the questions while Snape seemed too uncomfortable in the woman's presence to speak. Finally, she seemed to run out of questions. She scrutinized us both for a minute longer before she turned to Albus again. "Well, Albus, I must conclude that this must indeed be the effects of the Wishing-well water. I honestly didn't think that it was this well preserved over the years, but here we see the results." She scrutinized Snape again. "I see you both prefer to use your own wands. Do they still work best for you even though you are physically someone else?"
"Yes" said Snape "my wand seems to recognize my magic" he didn't seem surprised that the woman knew which wand belonged to whom.
"Yes, I suppose it would. I must say this is quite interesting. I am disappointed that I did not get the chance to examine the potion for myself. It is quite vexing. Nevertheless, what a great opportunity it is to observe its effects."
"Yes, dear Amaryllis, it is a great opportunity indeed" said the headmaster. "As interesting as it is however, I am sure neither Severus nor Miss Tonks would like to stay as they are at the moment. They might like to know if there is a way to reverse the effects of the potion?"
The woman sighed and slumped down in a chair hurriedly conjured by Dumbledore. "Oh dear . . . my sweet, sweet children" she started. Snape frowned at this form of address. Amaryllis didn't notice. "The only way to reverse the effect of the potion is to drink the same potion again. I am truly sorry about this but since there is no potion left, I am not too sure what I can do".
"And . . ." she hesitated "I dare say I have more bad news. The potion is said to have a reversal deadline. After six months the cure will no longer work, and the effects will be permanent."
