2. The Trial
While the bulk of her time and energy was dedicated to the training program, Warbeck certainly hadn't forgotten about their anti-Cruciatus potion. It had been six months since their initial success with the mouse models, and she and Severus were now looking to move on to the next phase of the development process - human-based studies to test for safety.
However, as the woman read up on the subject, she'd discovered a few of the unfortunate realities of potions research. In particular, the fact that the poor were disproportionately taken advantage of. "This is sick!" she exclaimed. "Did you know how exploitative human trials are?"
With a sigh, Severus said, "Who do you expect would volunteer to be the guinea pig for a potentially harmful elixir? Nobody would offer themselves up if there weren't a payout involved. And the only people desperate enough to risk the possible adverse effects - or even death - are the indigent."
As Warbeck pondered that, she shook her head in disapproval. "I don't want to end up killing some poor bloke who only took part in the trial 'cause he needed the money."
To that, Severus argued, "That's why everyone participates in potion trials. What other reason would there be for doing so?"
As though the answer should have been obvious, she replied, "To advance the field of healing magic?"
The man studied her a moment, thinking that she was entirely too idealistic at times. "Let us be realistic," he said. "Would you be willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of research?"
Her expression turned pensive, before she said, "Actually, now that you mention it..." She stood up and went to retrieve a sample of the vaccine. "You and I could answer the question of whether this is safe for human consumption right now."
He didn't have to use Legilimency to know what she was thinking. In a warning tone, he said, "You're not drinking that."
"It could be fatal, Sev. And this potion was my idea. It's my recipe. Why should I have somebody else risk their life to test its safety?"
Christ, she was just mad enough to actually do it. Without hesitation, he summoned the bottle out of her hand and said, "Do you really believe I'd consent to sitting back and allowing you to poison yourself?"
She bit her lip in thought, and replied, "Well, I assume you'd be ready with antidotes."
"Which may or may not be life-saving," he reminded, pocketing the vaccine. "It stays with me from now on. I'm locking it away somewhere you won't be able to find it."
With a roll of her eyes, she said, "You don't have to do that. I was only half-serious."
Half was more than enough. "You were considering it. I can't trust you not to do something completely idiotic on a whim."
The both of them fell quiet for a while, before she asked, "Well, what are we supposed to do then? I don't feel right about putting anyone in danger."
Unfortunately, that was an unavoidable risk. "We don't have a choice, Calista. But the fact that the potion has shown to have no ill effects on the mice is a good indication of its safety."
"You didn't think so in the beginning," she argued. "You said there was every chance that the potion could be fatal on humans."
"Yes, it's possible," he conceded. "But you're acting as though it's a certainty. Merlin's beard, you're supposed to be the optimistic one of the two of us." Perhaps his own pessimism was rubbing off on her, because she didn't look nearly as hopeful as she'd been six months ago. At the sight of her downcast expression, he went up to her and ordered, "Smile, God damn it."
She met his eye, then gave him a theatrically phony, somewhat derisive sort of grin. Despite the irony of the gesture, it was enough to satisfy him. "Good girl," he said, shooting her a wink.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The following week, they sat outside Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, waiting for the man to welcome them in. Warbeck had written to the minister a couple of days prior, requesting a meeting in regards to her and Severus's progress with the vaccine. Presently, she was much more hopeful about how this was going to go than the latter was. "This is a waste of both our time and his," he remarked with a sigh. "I don't know why I allowed you to drag me down here with you."
"It was your idea," she reminded.
"It was an off-the-cuff remark. If I'd known you were going to take it seriously then I wouldn't have said anything."
Pondering that, she replied, "Well, you happened to stumble upon a rather brilliant solution to the problem. And it couldn't hurt to run the idea by Kingsley."
It was a moment later that the minister opened his door to them, welcoming the two with a kind smile and a handshake. "Miss Warbeck, Professor Snape. Good to see you both."
"You too, sir," Warbeck said as he led them inside. "And thank you for meeting with us."
"The pleasure's all mine." He gestured for them to have a seat, taking his own behind the desk. "I was happy to receive your update on the anti-Cruciatus potion. Your rodent models have continued to display immunity to the curse?"
"Yes, sir. Six months it's been since we treated the first round of mice, and still the Cruciatus appears to have no effect on them at all. Neither have there been any adverse reactions to the vaccine."
"Excellent! You mentioned in your letter that the two of you are looking to move on to human-based trials."
"Right," Warbeck confirmed. "Our first step, of course, is determining the safety of our recipe." Her expression turned a bit gloomy as she added, "Though I have to say, I'm... not entirely enthusiastic about it."
Inclining his head in curiosity, Kingsley asked, "How do you mean?"
Severus kept quiet as the woman explained her reservations. When she was finished, the minister considered all she'd said and remarked, "I understand your concerns. Despite the precautions taken in potion-safety trials, at the end of the day, the risk of fatality can never be completely eliminated." This he said with regret in his tone.
Warbeck and Severus exchanged a glance, before the former declared, "We had an idea for testing the potion that might be a bit more humane than how it's currently done."
A look of interest came over the minister, who replied, "I'm intrigued. What is it you have in mind?"
Once again, she glanced over at Severus before responding. "'The Living Dead.' Azkaban prisoners who've been subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."
At this, Kingsley looked from Warbeck to Severus, then back to Warbeck, and with a furrowed brow, he said, "I don't understand."
A bit hesitantly, the woman explained, "Dementor's Kiss victims have no souls, no minds, no awareness..."
"Simply put," Severus finally chimed in, "they're as good as dead." He'd had no inclination to speak of the subject with any sort of sensitivity. "No great loss, therefore, if the potion should prove to be fatal."
With a roll of her eyes, Warbeck exclaimed, "Oh, hell! Did you have to put that so callously?"
"So if I'm understanding correctly," Kingsley said, "you want to test the anti-Cruciatus potion on a prisoner who's been Kissed?"
Warbeck replied, "That's the idea, yes."
The minister appeared to be seriously considering their proposition, and Severus was surprised that he hadn't immediately objected to it. But after a minute or so, he said, "There's an issue of informed consent. Trial participants must be able to comprehend the risks involved, as well as provide their explicit permission to be experimented on. There are waivers that need to be signed..."
As the man went on about the legal and ethical concerns involved in potion-testing, Severus thought back on Warbeck's past issues with Frank and Alice Longbottom. A couple of years prior, she'd been looking to develop some sort of a curative potion that might restore them to sanity. However, she'd been told that the couple could not be given experimental potions, on the grounds that their cognitive impairments made it impossible for them to consent to such treatment.
Presently, Warbeck countered Kingsley's arguments by asking, "What about a proxy? The next of kin - why can't they give permission on behalf of the prisoner?"
The minister shook his head and explained, "A proxy isn't entitled to make the decision to end a person's life. Even if the quality of that life is... essentially nonexistent."
"But it's not as though the intent is to kill them."
"Nevertheless. As long as there exists a significant possibility that death may result..." He trailed off, and Warbeck's shoulders sank. After a moment of silence, she stood up and paced the room in frustration.
It was Severus who remarked, "It's amazing the protection afforded to someone who was sentenced to having their soul sucked out." Though he had no sympathy for so-called "victims" of the Dementor's Kiss - knowing the sorts of crimes these people had been convicted of - there was little logic in their government's insistence on preserving life only in the most rudimentary sense. "Biological death is off the table, but destroying their very essence of personhood is allowed?"
"Not anymore, it isn't," Kingsley reminded. "Our government no longer employs the Dementor's Kiss as punishment."
"That's fantastic," Warbeck said, "but there are still people rotting away in Azkaban as living corpses. They've got no purpose for existing, they'll never be made whole again." Her tone of voice made it clear that this was all a load of rubbish as she went on, "Meanwhile, we can experiment on the perfectly healthy and risk killing them, just because they're desperate enough to take that chance in exchange for financial compensation?"
All three of them fell silent for a moment, and if Kingsley's expression was any indication, he wasn't all too keen on the exploitative nature of human potion trials himself. But despite his position, there was nothing he could do to change the current laws - such was the responsibility of the Wizengamot. "I'm not saying the field of potions research is without flaws," he said in a quiet voice. "But our policymakers aren't going to allow testing on those who can't consent to it." With regret on his face, he looked from one to the other of them and concluded, "I'm sorry."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Following their disappointing afternoon at the Ministry, Snape returned to Hogwarts by himself, while Callie stopped by Neville's flat to vent her frustrations out on him and his girlfriend of a year, Imogen. "It doesn't make any sense," the latter remarked. "For all intents and purposes, people who've been Kissed by a Dementor are already dead."
"It's a fate worse than death, it is," Callie declared indignantly. "I mean, if the potion did prove to be fatal, then I'd say it was an act of mercy to put the poor bastards out of their misery. Except that they don't even have the capacity to feel misery, or anything else."
"But it's all right to risk the safety of a regular bloke?" Neville asked. "So if they end up being poisoned, then it's 'Oh well, they knew what they were getting into'?"
"Yes!" Callie confirmed. "Apparently a suicide mission is preferable to a mercy killing. But test subjects are never really 'perfectly willing' to be experimented on. They're goaded into it by researchers dangling galleons in front of their faces." She paused, shaking her head to herself before going on in a bitter tone, "I suppose it doesn't really matter if they end up being poisoned. The indigent, the homeless, the dregs of society, they are. Expendable."
Considering that, Imogen replied, "But a convicted murderer who literally has no soul is not. Bloody backwards our lawmakers can be at times."
"Aye," Callie agreed miserably. But after a moment, she looked over at the other woman, and a small smile curled her lip. "Of course, you're going to change all that when you're Chief Witch of the Wizengamot." Imogen had big political aspirations, and currently worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry.
"Eh," Neville spoke, joining the women at the kitchen table, "tell her about your proposal to have love potions outlawed."
Callie cocked a brow at this bit of news, and Imogen explained, "It's only in the preliminary stages, but-" a shrug "-soon I'll be submitting it for initial consideration. Love potions are the magical equivalent of date-rape drugs. So often people slip them to the unsuspecting, simply to make them more... ya know... compliant. Willing to engage in activities they'd never agree to if they were in their right mind."
"Aha!" Callie exclaimed. "Now that kind of thing is allowed, apparently." With a scoff, she remarked, "So much for the issue of consent."
Meanwhile, Neville smirked to himself as he asked his girlfriend, "I ever tell you about the time that she slipped me a love potion?"
Imogen did a double take, then looked over at the man's ex, who explained with a sheepish expression, "He was already mad for me. Technically I didn't do anything manipulative."
Pondering that, the other asked, "So what was the point then?"
With a shrug, Callie replied, "I wanted to see how it would affect him." Thinking back on it, she added, "There is something to be said for love potions when you're already in a relationship with the person you give it to."
To that, Imogen furrowed her brow and asked, "What do you mean?"
Hesitantly, Callie said, "Well... sort of acts as... an aphrodisiac." She reached into her purse for a vial of Amortentia and set it on the table. "They're not all bad. Could be fun if used responsibly."
Neville eyed the shimmery pink liquid and began, "Wait, that's not...?" Recognizing it as the very elixir that Callie had slipped him when they were sixteen, he asked, "You carry a sample of love potion in your bag?" Obviously he thought this rather odd, and poor Imogen was probably questioning whether the woman was some kind of a sexual predator. Callie couldn't help but grin at the perplexed looks on their faces.
"I use it as perfume sometimes," she explained. "It smells of all the things I like. My own personally customized fragrance." Chocolate, wine, rainfall... It had even taken on the scent of Snape himself. Something indefinable, yet enticing.
As Imogen uncorked the vial and took a whiff, Callie stood up and said, "Anyway... I oughta get home." Gesturing to the potion, "Go ahead and keep that if you want. I have a ton of it."
With his eyes on his girlfriend, Neville said, "I've got a feeling she's going to vanish it. After all, it is the very thing she's looking to have banned."
In spite of that, the woman twirled the vial between her fingers, her expression rather curious, and muttered, "'Aphrodisiac.'" After a pause, "Suppose it might be beneficial to try it out myself - for research."
"Yes," Callie said, smirking to herself as she made her way out. "Research."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Dear Callie,
I've been thinking of all that we talked about regarding the vaccine and the idea you had about testing it. I hope you don't mind, but I brought it up to someone in my department, and they were quite intrigued by what you'd proposed to the minister. As a matter of fact, they asked if I would be able to set up a meeting between them, you, and Professor Snape to discuss it. I can't tell you much more, but I think they might have some ideas of their own that could prove beneficial in what you were hoping to accomplish. Let me know if you'd be interested in meeting with them.
Best regards,
Imogen
P.S. - You're right. Under certain circumstances, love potions aren't all that bad.
A couple of days after she'd received the woman's letter, Callie found herself, along with a reluctant Snape, wandering through a parking garage in Muggle Town at ten o' clock at night. Craning his neck in suspicion every step of the way, the latter mumbled, "This has ambush written all over it."
The other rolled her eyes. He seemed to genuinely believe that somebody was going to jump out from the shadows and attack them any second. "This is Imogen," Callie reminded him. "For what reason would she invite us into some kind of a trap?"
"You don't know the girl all that well, do you?" he said. "Who's to say what her true motivations might be."
"Ya know, you have a point," Callie said in a sarcastic tone. "I did used to fool around with her boyfriend. Perhaps she's resentful about that and has decided to get rid of me."
"Hmph," Snape huffed. They continued to walk, and after a moment he asked, "So where is this mystery bloke who's so interested in seeing us?"
With a furrowed brow, Callie admitted, "I don't know. All she said was that he would be waiting on the third floor." Another minute or so went by before a black sedan flashed its lights a little ways ahead. Callie and Snape paused, exchanged a glance, and then the former made to approach the car, but Snape grabbed her by the arm and held her back.
"Arm yourself," he ordered, pulling out his own wand and holding it at the ready. Callie did as told, and together they moved towards the sedan.
When they were only a few feet away from it, the passenger door opened up - seemingly of its own volition - and once again Callie paused.
But a male voice called out from inside, "I recognize you both from the papers. Perhaps you might recognize me, too."
The two of them hesitated, and then Snape went to the passenger's side and looked in. After getting a look at the man's face, he replied coldly, "No, I don't. Who are you?"
"Get inside," the man commanded.
"The hell I will."
Still with her wand grasped tightly in her hand, Callie joined Snape to have a look at the mystery bloke herself. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, with brown hair and a serious expression on his face. Callie didn't recognize him either. "Who sent you here?" she asked.
"Imogen Lockwood," he said. "Personal friend of yours, yes?"
"Aye," Callie confirmed.
The man informed them, "I told her not to tell you who I am. But I'll do that myself if you get in the car and shut the doors."
Once more, Callie and Snape exchanged a glance, before the woman slid into the front seat, while the other got in back. "All right," the former said when they were shut in, "who are you?"
Holding up a finger, he said, "One moment. I'm going to cast an Imperturbable Charm."
He reached into his jacket, presumably to retrieve his wand, but before he could get it, Snape said, "I'll do it. Keep your hands where we can see them."
The man didn't argue, and once the charm was cast, he announced, "My name is Simeon Braddock. Does that ring a bell?"
"No," the other two replied simultaneously.
"Hmph," he smirked. "Well, I won't take offense. I'm the Senior Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Yet again, Callie and Snape met each other's eye, surprised by this claim. Hesitantly, Callie asked, "Are... are we under arrest for something?"
"Well as far as I know, neither of you have any active warrants. But if you'd like to confess to something, feel free."
The very unamused Snape asked, "What is it you want with us, then?"
With a sigh, Braddock began, "I've heard about your anti-Cruciatus potion. Read about it in the press. Most impressive, by the way."
"Thanks," Callie said. "Imogen said she talked to you about it."
"Yes. Still in the developmental stages, she said."
"It is. We're looking to begin human-based safety trials."
"Right." He paused, before going on, "Are you wondering what this has to do with me?"
Before Callie could respond, Snape spoke up - glaring at the man with a dangerous sort of look in his eye - "I have an idea. But get on with it, why don't you?"
Meanwhile, Callie couldn't comprehend what the man might be suspecting about Braddock. She looked from the former to the latter, who said, "Miss Lockwood spoke of your proposal to make use of a certain sect of Azkaban prisoners for potion-safety testing. I have to say, rather an ingenious idea-" glancing between them "-whichever one of you came up with it."
The both of them kept quiet, waiting for him to go on.
"Ran it by Kingsley Shacklebolt, I heard. He shot it down?"
"Yes," Callie replied.
"So what of it?" Snape asked. "What does this have to do with you?"
Braddock got a pensive look on his face, then sighed again. "Let us speak now in a strictly hypothetical sense, shall we? I am the supreme chief of our government's penal system. How very disconcerting it would be if I were found to have taken part in conspiracy to commit an illegal act."
Furrowing his brow, Snape asked, "What are you on about? Nobody's conspiring to do anything illegal."
"Oh, good," Braddock said. "Then we're all on the same page."
"I don't think so, sir," Callie said in confusion. "You seem to be a couple of pages ahead of us."
A silence fell as he considered them both. "You want to know if that... 'vaccine' of yours is safe for human consumption. And if it isn't, then you wouldn't want to put anybody's life at risk." He paused, before continuing, "Not much of a risk for someone who's had their soul destroyed - assuming they ever had one to begin with."
"Whatever it is you have to say," Snape cut in, sounding frustrated, "would you get on with it, please, so we can all get out of this God forsaken muggle craft." He seemed to be a bit claustrophobic in the confined space of the automobile.
Braddock went on, "Supposing there was someone who could get you what you wanted - hypothetically, of course... Someone who could get you into Azkaban Prison, in touch with one of the damned just long enough to slip them a bit of that vaccine..."
He met Callie's eye, and she finally understood what he was getting at. However, she couldn't help but question why the Head of Law Enforcement would be interested in helping them commit a crime. And what did he care about their vaccine anyway?
"Hypothetically, of course..." she replied slowly "...I would wonder why somebody would be willing to risk their career and reputation for two people he had never met."
"Because he's trying to trap us," Snape said angrily. "That's what this is. Lockwood told him what we wanted to do, and the minute we agree to what he's offering, we're conspiring to commit assault. Next you and I will be in Azkaban ourselves."
"We haven't agreed to anything," Callie said, her eyes still on Braddock. "And he hasn't offered anything. Isn't that right, Mr. Braddock?"
"Yes, it is," he replied, smirking ever so slightly. "I can see that you and I understand each other." Next he reached into his pocket and produced a photograph, which he handed to Callie. "Olivia Braddock," he said.
Callie studied the photo, which depicted a teenaged girl who had similar features to the man. "Daughter?" she asked.
"Sister," he corrected. "That was taken in '72." His expression turned sorrowful as he went on, "She herself was taken in '73."
Callie looked from the picture to him, struck by that bit of information. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Thank you. Fortunately, the person responsible was captured, convicted, and received what I believe to be an appropriate sentence. I suppose you can guess what that was."
The woman's mouth fell open as she now had the answer of why he would want to help them. It wasn't for her and Snape, or to spare some poor bloke from risking their life to test the safety of the potion. It was for revenge against the person who had murdered his sister.
After a moment, she handed back the picture and said, "Mr. Braddock... I understand why you're so keen on our idea for the potion, but... our hope is that it won't be fatal." Obviously, his own desire was that it would kill the bastard.
Considering that, he replied, "Actually, that's my hope as well. Not that I'd be all too disappointed if it happened to be deadly, but what you're looking to accomplish with this potion is extraordinary. I would like to see the Cruciatus Curse eliminated." After a pause, he added in a quiet voice, "And it would be nice to know there was some other reason for this son of a bitch's existence. That he hadn't been put on this earth for the sole purpose of ending my baby sister's life."
Callie took in everything they'd just discussed, and she was certain they could trust the man. "Hypothetically speaking," she said, "when exactly might this all be arranged?"
Behind her, Snape shook his head. "No. We aren't doing this, Calista. It's a miracle I haven't already ended up in prison, I'm not going to risk it now." With that he stepped out of the car, then held open the passenger door, gesturing for her to do the same. "Come along."
Giving him a derisive look, she said, "Don't talk to me as if I'm your child. If you don't want any part in this, that's fine. But you don't speak for me." She leaned over to pull the door shut, then turned back to Braddock. "When?" she asked.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Though he didn't want any part in it, he accompanied her to Azkaban two nights later, claiming that they had been in this together from the beginning, and he wasn't going to leave her on her own now. Nobody questioned Braddock's presence in the prison, what with his position at the Ministry, though he'd thought it best that Callie and Snape cover themselves with invisibility cloaks.
"I don't want to know his name," Callie had told Braddock regarding the prisoner who was to be their test subject. It was enough that he had told them what the man had done to receive the Kiss, and knowing his name would've made it even more personal than it already was. She wanted to remain objective throughout the process; this was not about revenge - not for her, at least - or about a convicted murder getting what he deserved. He was merely the best option for testing a potentially deadly brew.
Presently, Braddock led them through the depths of the prison, to a dungeon-like cell which had only a small slit through which to look in on its single occupant. Several incantations were required to open the cell, Braddock explained, so he performed a deafening charm on Callie and Snape, as a security measure, while he spoke them. When a door appeared in the middle of the thick stone wall, he reversed the charm, pulled the door open, and gestured for them to go in.
Before they'd arrived, Callie had asked if the prisoner was any danger to them. "Not in the slightest," Braddock had replied, and she could see that for herself as she got her first look at the soulless individual.
He was very much like Frank and Alice Longbottom, except that even they appeared distinctly less pathetic. The man was lying face-up on a bed, his eyes completely unseeing and his mouth hanging open. A bit of drool was seeping down the side of his face, and he didn't move a muscle - barely even blinked, as a matter of fact.
"Is this what they're all like?" Callie asked, feeling a pang a sympathy for the condemned.
"Yes," Braddock said. "Now you see why we refer to them as 'the Living Dead.'"
"Why not just sentence them to actual death? Why bother keeping them alive if they're going to exist like this?"
Braddock explained, "Execution was banned in the 19th century, as it was believed to go against God's will."
Callie considered that, and said, "So it's a religious matter, then?"
"Aye."
Snape chimed in, "No greater punishment, in that case, than having one's soul removed. Apparently the standing members of the Wizengamot, at the time, were just as qualified as our Lord and Savior to decide who should be damned for all eternity."
Callie cocked a brow at this, knowing that he had his doubts about religious matters. "I thought you didn't take stock in that kind of thing," she said.
"I don't," he confirmed. "And the hypocrisy of organized religion is one of many reasons why I don't subscribe to it."
Still with her eyes on the prisoner, Callie conjured a rag and went over to wipe the drool off his mouth. "So he just lies here all day long?" she asked. "Does he ever move or anything?"
Braddock replied, "They have no inclination to do so. They're exercised twice daily to prevent bedsores and muscular atrophy, but..." He trailed off, shrugging to himself.
Callie looked around and noted that there was no toilet in the cell, which led her to ask, rather bluntly, "What if he pisses himself?"
"Diapers," Braddock said.
Wincing to herself, she straightened up and thought, This is a fate worse than death. If the Ministry hadn't already done away with the Dementor's Kiss as punishment, then she just might have found herself fighting to have it abolished.
On the other hand, she reminded herself, he raped and killed a fifteen-year-old. Don't feel too bad for the demon. With a sigh, she reached into her bag for the vaccine and said, "Let's get this over with."
"Wait," Snape called out, coming over to her side and taking the bottle from her hand. Holding it out to Braddock, he said, "You're giving it to him."
Both Callie and Braddock gave him curious looks, and the latter exclaimed, "What? Why?"
Gesturing to his partner, Snape replied, "So that neither of us can be charged with murder in the event that he dies." After a pause, "And so we know you're legit."
Braddock considered that a moment, then stepped forward and grabbed the bottle. "Apparently I'm not," he said. "That's the whole point here, isn't it?"
They instructed him to give it in small doses until the full amount was administered, and all the while, Callie and Snape kept track of the prisoner's vital signs, which were holding steady after fifteen minutes.
"How long do you want to give this?" Braddock asked.
Snape shook his head in thought and replied, "If he hasn't died within the next couple of hours..."
Death by poisoning wasn't always instantaneous. Theoretically, it could take days. But Braddock would be made aware if a prisoner turned up dead, and as he'd assured Callie and Snape, nobody would bother with questions or an autopsy for someone in the state this bloke was in. What with both the cognitive and living conditions of Dementor's Kiss victims, they weren't exactly the picture of good health to begin with.
The subject was still alive and showing no adverse effects two hours later, so the potioneers bid Braddock goodbye and returned to Hogsmeade. However, Callie wasn't quite as excited as she should have been, considering that all had gone as hoped.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Braddock," she spoke as Snape handed her a glass of Firewhisky, "but is it wrong that I actually felt sorry for the prisoner?" She didn't expect that he would share in her distress over the matter, and braced herself for a "don't be ridiculous, Warbeck, he got what was coming to him."
As he joined her on the sofa, he replied, "No need to torture yourself; his mind is gone. Take solace in the fact that he has no awareness of his own state of being." He paused to sip his bourbon, before continuing, "But no - you're not so callous as to feel no sense of sympathy for someone that pitiful. Such sentiment isn't misguided, it's human."
She raised her brows in surprise at this perspective. Ordinarily he wasn't the forgiving type. "You don't think he deserved to be Kissed?"
"Oh, I do," he conceded. "But I'm a cold-hearted bastard. Sympathy isn't my strong suit."
Callie gazed at him a moment, biting back a grin. You're not that cold, she thought, then cuddled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "It isn't fatal," she remarked.
But he reminded her, "We still don't know for certain that it won't be."
"Hmph," she breathed, rolling her eyes. "Ever the pessimist, you are."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It seemed that Prisoner 132923 was destined to live on as a vegetable, but as the days passed, Callie had become less despondent about the sorry sod and more elated by the fact that they had overcome their latest hurdle in the vaccine's development. A month after their clandestine trip to Azkaban, she and Snape felt confident enough to begin their official safety trials at St. Mungo's, overseen by Healer Amaranth and two Ministry blokes from the Department of Healing Research.
Callie stood before one of their five test subjects, a rather skinny man in shabby clothes, whose hand was shaking as she passed him the vial of black liquid. What with the blatant apprehension on his face as he stared down at the potion, Callie was compelled to remind him, "Remember that you're free to bow out at any time if you're not comfortable."
"I know," he replied in a quiet voice. "But my kids gotta eat." Once the potion was ingested, he'd be walking out with a hundred galleons in his pocket. Such was the value the Department of Research apparently placed on human life.
While the subject struggled to work up the courage to potentially poison himself, Callie set a comforting hand on his arm and whispered, "Sir... I'm not supposed to tell you this, but..." nodding to the vial "...this potion is completely safe."
Despite her words, he argued, "You can't know that. Whole purpose of this trial is determining safety, isn't it?"
"Yes," she conceded. "But I do know. Trust me."
He looked up and held her gaze a moment, then took a deep breath and downed the contents of the vial. "Relax, love," Callie said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Soon enough you'll see it's harmless." He didn't look entirely convinced, but of course, she was certain he would be all right.
As she left the subject to himself, Healer Amaranth took her by the arm and pulled her aside, a look of disapproval - almost anger - on her face. Quietly, so as not to be heard by anyone, she practically growled, "You told him the potion was harmless, Warbeck? Why did you do that?"
With a sigh, Callie replied, "I was only trying to set him at ease."
"Well if you want to calm a patient's nerves then find some other way to do it," Amaranth demanded. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Doing so not only gives them false hope but it lays the foundation for potential lawsuits!"
Callie had never seen the woman so incensed. And she wouldn't have done it under any other circumstances, but there was no worry of false hope or lawsuits in this case. Being that she couldn't explain that, however, she dropped her eyes to the ground and said, "You're right, ma'am. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"It better not. Unless you want to find some other place to study healing magic." With that, she stomped off, leaving the trainee a bit bewildered.
Going over to Snape, Callie remarked, "Amaranth's sort of an icy bitch. And not the entertaining kind of icy bitch like you or Healer Crane. Just straight-up unpleasant."
"Yes, well... never mind her." Staring down at two vials of the vaccine, he said, "There could still be latent side effects, you know. Sometimes symptoms don't appear for years."
This was a concern he'd brought up to her before now, but what were they supposed to do? Wait five, ten, twenty years on the off chance some adverse effect would spring up at some point down the line?
"Well..." Callie said, reaching for a vial, "if it ends up ravaging me, you can say that you told me so." Noting his troubled expression, "I'm not gonna hold it against you if you don't wanna take it." She'd decided from the start that she, herself, would be test subject number six, and after his initial objections, Snape had taken on a "you jump, I jump" sort of attitude.
Presently, he grabbed up the other vial and said sardonically, "If we're going to die, then we may as well do it together. Though I doubt we'll run into each other on the other side." Not that he believed in Heaven or Hell, but if they did exist, then he was certain he was headed for the latter.
Uncorking her vial, Callie remarked, "I'm pretty sure I've broken at least half of the ten commandments. No pearly gates for either of us." The two of them faced each other, their vaccines in hand. Callie got a thoughtful look on her face, then raised her own and said, "To Olivia Braddock."
"Cheers." They clunk their vials together, then tossed them back as though they were shots of Firewhisky.