Chapter Text
Severus faltered for just a split second when he opened the door to his lab and spotted Lucius Malfoy. “What are you doing here, Lucius?” he asked and turned to his desk without so much as looking at him.
“I had business around,” Lucius drawled. “What kind of potion is this?”
Severus cast him a glance. Not that it had been necessary; he knew exactly what potion was simmering in the cauldron he was looking at. It was the so far most promising version of the neutralising essence he was working on with Granger. “Veritaserum,” he said without missing a beat.
“Really? I always thought it was translucent …”
Severus rolled his eyes. “That's why the Dark Lord orders me to brew the potions and not you.” He continued to clear up the fourth year's essays Lucius had undoubtedly looked through while Severus had been absent. “What kind of business do you have here?” he asked in doing so. “Did you try to blackmail some Ministry officials again and finally realised it doesn't work?”
Lucius clicked his tongue. “Blackmailing is such a strong word, Severus.”
“What would you call it?”
He looked at him for a long time, narrowing his eyes a little. “Let's drop the subject.”
Severus nodded. “Of course. How is Draco?”
“He is well. Why do you ask?”
“Since you obviously came here to chat I deemed it appropriate to enquire after him. How is he dealing with the task the Dark Lord assigned to him?”
Lucius stopped short. He eyed him suspiciously. “You know about it?”
“Yes, I know about it,” Severus countered, watching him intently. Lucius had doubted Severus's loyalty to the Dark Lord for some time now. Clearly, he'd come here to look for evidence and if he would understand more about potions he had long realised the concoction right under his nose was exactly that. It was sheer luck the potion indeed resembled Veritaserum in an early stage of preparation right now. Lucius shouldn't even be able to notice a difference if he bothered to check. “As far as I know he has his difficulties with it,” Severus returned to the topic. “Maybe you should use your time to help him rather than … dropping by here. The Dark Lord seems a bit on the outs with you at the moment …”
Lucius crossed the distance between them and pushed Severus against the dungeon wall, his forearm pressed against his neck. “Is that supposed to be a threat?” he asked sharply. His eyes were darker than usual. Like clouds right before a thunderstorm.
Severus laughed huskily. “No, Lucius, that was small talk.” His voice sounded pressed and he had to pause to catch his breath. “Reminding you of the Dark Lord's regular examinations of my mind and musing about what he'd likely say to a memory like this, that would be a threat.”
Lucius's eyes widened before he took a step back.
Severus rubbed his neck. “So, do you have anything else on your mind?”
He wrinkled his nose while he regarded Severus. “I know you are hiding something, Severus. I will find out about it and then we will see with whom the Dark Lord will be on the outs.” He turned around and left the lab, loudly slamming the door shut.
Severus tore himself from this memory blinking and looked around the room as if he saw it for the first time. He frowned. He had tried to return to his imagined lab but his mind had taken another path. That had never happened to him before. He rubbed his itching eyes.
How long had it been since Lucius had caught him in his lab? Two and a half years? At least. He'd been working with Granger back then and the potion Lucius had been looking at had been one of the coffin nails of the Dark Lord. It had been the reason Severus had seen Granger excited for the first time. For a second he remembered her beaming face so vividly as if he'd seen it just yesterday.
He shook his head, dispelling the memory for good. And as if that had been his plan all along he stood and left the room. It was such a hot day that he had doffed his shoes and socks, making him move almost silently. He poured himself a glass of water in the kitchen and drank it greedily. It was hard for him to handle thirst lately. It always had other emotions in tow. Confining emotions. Almost as if he still was in that shack.
And as it happened, captivity was a topic at hand in this house as well. Admittedly, he had more leg space and the meals were better but ultimately, Albus had just changed the iron manacles for the dimension barrier. Severus was as involuntarily here as he had been on that island in the Atlantic Ocean. He still wasn't able to leave.
A disquieting feeling rose in Severus. His heart thumped wildly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He left the kitchen a few minutes later and cast a glance through the parlour to the terrace door. He stopped abruptly. A shadow was outlined against the bright afternoon sun. Severus frowned.
He went to the open door, so silently that Granger didn't notice him. She had her back towards him and her arms crossed. It was completely quiet. There simply was nothing that could cause a sound. No wind, no animals, not even crickets were chirping in the dusk. Only the two of them were existing here. And a gnome as he had noticed this morning. They had to be careful to close the terrace door at night.
A sound tore him from his thoughts. Severus listened. Then he heard it again. A sob.
She was crying.
He swallowed. He'd never seen her cry before, not really. Sometimes, when he had been particularly vile, tears had welled in her eyes but she had never cried in front of him, never let that happen.
He averted his gaze, feeling like an invader at this moment. Unwelcome. As unwelcome as the thoughts that were bubbling up in his mind. She had left a life behind just to wait here for the end of the war. She had something to lose out there and she wasn't able to protect it from here. How had Albus dared to ask this from her? For him?
Severus cast her a last glance before he turned away as silently as he'd come and returned to his room upstairs. He locked his door as if that would lock out his guilt. Then he paced through the way-too-small room and eventually wrenched open a window, leaned out, and struggled to breathe.
Granger whimpered when Lucius grabbed her hair and tore her head back. “Do it right, Severus!” he said over her shoulder, the tip of his wand pressed against her neck.
Severus stared at it, he just couldn't turn away his gaze. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked.
“The potion, Severus! Do it right!” Lucius nodded in his direction.
And Severus struggled to lower his gaze. There was indeed a cauldron. Its content was seething, it looked as if it would explode soon. He wanted to go over and extinguish the fire but he wasn't able to move.
The potion would explode! He had to stop it!
Granger screamed when Lucius pressed his wand deeper into her skin. “The potion, Severus!
“All right!” Severus shouted and turned around but he couldn't take a single step! The potion hissed when it bubbled over the rim and dribbled into the fire beyond the cauldron. Severus looked up. His hands! They were pinioned above his head. “Release me!” he yelled.
Lucius laughed. “I cannot do that, Severus.”
The seething of the potion grew louder, Granger screamed again. “Release me!” Severus roared, his pulse drumming in his ears.
Then he jolted from his sleep. Sweating. Trembling. His heart thumped erratically, he gasped, feeling as if electricity was flowing through him. He sat up and threw the thin sheet aside. The trembling got worse although it was awfully hot in his room, around thirty degrees at least.
He calmed down only slowly, just like the dream only slowly slipped away from him. But a gnawing nausea remained. He went to the bathroom and drank a little bit of water from the tap. Then he splashed it into his face. Drew his hands through his hair. In the darkness, the shapes of the room were only faintly visible.
Eventually, he went back to bed but he wasn't able to sleep for a long time.
'Ice water' was scribbled on the parchment, underlined twice and with three exclamation marks behind it. Severus snorted.
The next moment, a hand grabbed the parchment. “Hands off my notes!” Granger glared at him and tucked the sheet into a book about healing potions. Before Severus was able to read the exact title, she'd let that disappear from his view as well.
“Then don't leave your stuff lying about everywhere. Isn't this supposed to be a common room? The chaos here exceeds even Longbottom's worst lab table!” His gaze wandered across the parlour. Her books were clattered on the table and the cupboards, notes were flying about everywhere – a lot of them crumpled up or torn –, and even a jumper hung on the backrest of the settee. At the height of summer!
When his gaze finally returned to her, she grinned slyly. “Do you know what Neville's doing now?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I don't think I want to know.”
“I will tell you anyway.” She raised her eyebrows. “He is the owner and head of one of the most prosperous magical apothecaries in London. He's brewing the potions himself.”
Severus almost choked on his own saliva. “And how many people has he killed already?”
“Not a single one!” she replied indignantly. “On the contrary, he's known for the superb preparation of his potions.” She was obviously having the time of her life telling him all of this.
“Unbelievable how little emphasis is being put upon references nowadays.” He crossed his arms.
“Oh, he has terrific references. Master Rutherforth took him on when he noticed Neville's talent with Herbology. He thought it a shame that he recoiled from using the ingredients as if he was about to touch a hotplate.” Granger's eyes were glistening belligerently.
“It would have been better for all parties if it had stayed that way.” If Neville Longbottom was a Potions Master now – and he had to be to not only own an apothecary but to be allowed to sell his own brews – then Severus would inevitably meet him again at some point. Professionally. On eye-level. Merlin forbid! This house and his enforced stay were suddenly becoming more attractive.
“That's a matter of opinion,” Granger countered, her eyes twinkling. “You should take another vial of the Strengthening Solution, by the way. You seem to respond well to it.”
He had to reluctantly agree. After only two vials he already felt stronger. And then it dawned on him. “No,” he said slowly.
She grinned. “Yes!”
Damn it!
“It is Neville's. Before our … departure … I didn't have enough time to brew some myself and you know how fast especially this potion decays.” She lifted a stack of books, obviously pleased. “He will be thrilled to know his potions meet your standards.”
“I said no such thing, Miss Granger!”
“But you can't say anything to the contrary either and that's just as good, sir.” Granger savoured his dogged expression for some seconds. Then her gaze got serious again. “Hands off my things,” she reminded him and left the room.
In the past two days, Severus had tried to find out what her note about the ice water was supposed to mean. Granger was working on a potion, without a doubt, and he could only support this form of occupation. But it irked him that she didn't involve him. Every time he saw her, she was busy researching details he could have easily told her about – if she'd only bothered to ask.
She had always been promising at the cauldron and during the time they'd been working together, she'd only become better. But obviously, she had favoured a more valuable education regarding the ongoing war. The art of healing was challenging as well, but since she was now more often engrossed in books about potions than healing her interests seemed to be on the former. Although the one could effortlessly be combined with the other.
He was tempted to train her. They had plenty of time and it would keep them both from losing their minds. Especially him. It would definitely keep him from losing his mind. But she didn't seem to be receptive to suggestions like that. On the contrary, right now she seemed to despise even the ground he was walking on and that wasn't of any help for his state of mind.
The war had apparently not only forced her to become a healer but also to become more like him than he cared to admit. Most of the time, she was unrecognisable to him. The common ground they'd gained a few years ago was lost.
Severus shuddered thinking about it. Throughout his life, he'd lost quite some acquaintances and friends but normally he always knew what had been the problem – most of the time it had been him. With Granger, he wasn't sure.
He still thought it possible she held Potter's death against him. But they'd developed the potion together and he hadn't kept anything from her. That Potter had died had only partly been because of the potion. She had to know as much.
Right?
Had she been there? Had she seen it? Or had anybody else seen it? And if so, had this person told her afterwards?
Albus certainly hadn't told anyone.
Severus grimaced. Perhaps Granger really did not know.
But was that the reason for her grudge? Was it still important why Potter had died? It was bitter, without a doubt. He'd died believing his death would bring peace to the Wizarding World. Severus sighed. He had never been fond of Potter but he genuinely hoped he did not know how the Wizarding World had evolved.
Severus blinked and looked around his room. Something was wrong. His gaze fell onto the window pane. Frostwork was blossoming on it, he could watch it grow. But the window lay in the sun.
“What the …” he muttered.
And then he sensed it. The temperatures in the house were dropping. Normally desirable, the summer heat had warmed up the house like an oven and not even cooling charms lasted through the nights. But his breath was forming clouds in the air! That was too much of a good thing.
“Granger!” Severus growled and crossed his room with large strides. He descended the stairs and it got colder with every step. “Miss Granger! What have you done?” His foot suddenly slipped on the last step and he barely managed to grab onto the handrail. Glancing down in shock, he noticed a thin layer of ice covering the floor.
Only when his thumping heart calmed a bit he felt the pain on his back. The wounds. His near-fall had ripped them open again. Severus closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Then Granger screamed.
He crossed the hall, which was luckily carpeted, but when he wrenched open the door to the basement, snowflakes blew in his face and he stumbled back with a harsh gust of wind sweeping his hair back. Holy shit! Goosebumps flashed across his skin when he leaned against the wind and fought his way down into the basement.
“Miss Granger! What is -” He stopped abruptly when he saw the lab. Snow. Everywhere was snow! And more flakes were trickling down from the ceiling. The taps were icicled, the liquid ingredients in the vessels on the shelves were frozen, some glass containers were cracked. The temperatures had dropped to about minus thirty degrees, give or take.
And then he saw the penguins.
Penguins!
They were standing on the lab table. One of them was just shoving a big egg deeper under its belly, the other one stood in front of it and hissed at Severus.
Who stepped back wide-eyed. Now he could definitely use a wand! But no such thing had appeared in the pantry so far. Only fresh food and a letter for Granger.
“Miss Granger, I demand an explanation!” he said sharply and looked around.
Another scream indicated her location. She was standing in the back part of the lab in a corner where an adolescent polar bear had funnelled her. “I'm rather busy right now!” she shouted and pointed at her wand that she apparently had lost on her flight.
Severus snorted. “Could you not at least have decided between North and South Pole?” he asked as cool as the ice surrounding them, perhaps as a retaliation for their little chat about Longbottom. He saw her casting him a furious glance before she grabbed a broom to keep the polar bear at a distance since it had lost its interest in the boxes and cartons and had turned to Granger with hungry greed in his eyes.
“Hurry up!” she screeched.
Severus bent down to fetch the wand. More pain shot through his back. He pursed his lips. Then he pointed her wand at the chaos in the lab and said, “Finite incantatem!”
Snow, ice, penguins, and polar bear disappeared with a soft pop. Granger, however, kept standing in the corner, broom in her hands, panting. She needed a moment until she put it away awkwardly. Her face was flushed, her hair dripping wet.
Severus handed her the wand and she grabbed it harshly. “I beg your pardon for my inability to keep my hands off your things under these circumstances,” he drawled. His back prickled.
“Shut up and take off that shirt,” Granger said, apparently determined to not explain the ice desert any further. She casually slewed a cauldron from the fire and cleared the table.
“Excuse me?” he asked pointedly.
She looked at him. “Your shirt, sir. You're bleeding.”
He wrinkled his nose. The penguins had surprised him, so much so that he'd briefly turned his back on her. Of course, she had seen it. Not even a bloody polar bear could keep her from noticing something like that. Reluctantly he did as she'd told him, grimacing at the pain it caused him to pull the fabric from where it stuck to the bleeding wounds.
“What are you waiting for? Turn around!” she added impatiently when he just stood there bare-chested and clenching his teeth.
So he did that as well. Grudgingly! He heard her inhale sharply when she saw his back. But she said nothing, only put her hands on his shoulders and urged him to sit down on the stool she'd pulled from under the table.
“Where did the ice desert come from?” he asked while she went to the lab cabinet and fetched a small bottle of Dittany and another jar of balm.
“That's none of your business,” she muttered.
Severus sensed the prickling of a cleansing charm, then he heard her open the bottle. “I disagree.”
“That's your prerogative.” Severus wanted to stand up but she held him back. “Don't you dare!” Throughout the next minutes, she dabbed his wounds with Dittany and when a thin layer of skin had formed, she covered them with the balm. “You should have come to me earlier,” she eventually said.
Severus snorted. “It would have healed on its own.”
“Sure. But how?”
“Like all the other wounds.” Severus didn't look at her when he donned his shirt and buttoned it up. She'd cleaned it along with his back, there weren't any bloodstains left on it. He crossed his arms in front of his chest when he was finished. “Well … Where did the ice desert come from, Miss Granger?”
She groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Well, one part came from the South Pole, the other from the North Pole.”
“Watch your tongue!” he said sharply. “I don't need House Points for you to respect me again.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I'm shivering from fear. No, wait! That's because of the temperatures. My bad.” She clicked her tongue and turned around. But before he could say anything to her audacious remark she continued, “You have to put balm on these wounds twice a day. If you aren't able to do it by yourself, ask me, for Merlin's sake! I don't bite!”
“Are you sure?” he asked pointedly.
She cast him a glance. “Are you afraid of me?”
He laughed mirthlessly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “I'm shivering from fear. No, wait!”
Granger narrowed her eyes. “Morning and evening!” she repeated, then she turned and left the lab.
Severus's gaze followed her while he frowned.