Chapter 53
Poisons
It was astounding how quickly Lupin’s health seemed to rebound as he launched himself wholeheartedly into his daily activities. With the early spring rains behind them, Harry was often recruited for a midday hike around the lake in addition to his customary lesson later in the day. Not that the extra fresh air wasn’t invigorating and Lupin’s company was always a bonus, but Harry couldn’t help wondering what had brought such an abrupt change. He was loath to attribute it to Lupin’s recent brush with mortality unless there was no other explanation available.
Since it was just the two of them present, Lupin was not so reticent in his response.
“This is the best I’ve felt in months, Harry! Sure I had to endure the agony of the transformation, but it was a familiar agony. I finally feel like myself again! Do you know how long it’s been since I was able to complete an Animagus transformation without feeling like I was going to be laid up for a week?”
“Doesn’t that concern you, Remus?” Harry stressed.
Lupin shrugged. “I worried about it more when I first started the treatment; both Tonks and Madam Pomfrey assured me that it was only a temporary wrinkle.”
“But it doesn’t seem like it turned out to be.”
“There are just so many unpredictable factors in an experimental treatment. To their credit, they try to make adjustments as needed.”
“You make it sound like you’re resigned to your fate,” Harry noted with a sigh.
“Do I really have any other choice?”
“Remus, there are always choices. You told me that yourself!”
“Not if I wish to maintain my current post, Harry. Tonks must’ve explained that to you when I was laid up. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy teaching.”
The anguish in Lupin’s eyes was such that Harry relented. “So you’re just going to go back to the same treatment as before?”
“As soon as they feel I’ve regained enough of my former vigor. I suspect it’ll be before the next full moon.”
“That’s less than two weeks away!” Harry cried, thinking that was hardly much of a respite.
“Tell me about it.” Lupin sighed good-naturedly. “That’s why I’m making the most of things while I can!”
The more Harry thought about Lupin’s situation, the angrier he became. There had to be a different option! He just didn’t know enough about the situation “ Merlin, he knew next to nothing, truth be told. That, at least, was something he could remedy.
Clearly a visit to the headmistress’ library was in order for tomorrow, but Harry was feeling impatient. If only he still had his Potions book from last year; it would at least give him an overview this very evening. Was it only wishful thinking or had there been a chapter wholly devoted to poisons even though they hadn’t covered it in class?
Sudden inspiration had him knocking on Hermione’s door.
“You’re not asleep yet, are you?” Harry whispered.
“No,” she answered as the opened the door. “But if I had been….oh, never mind. What can I do for you, Harry?”
He explained his goal and was pleased that she indeed had copies of all their old textbooks for easy reference. More to the point she, too, was concerned when Harry explained that St. Mungo’s had treated Lupin’s situation as a poisoning.
“Look, Harry, I know those Healers seem like they’re a bit smug and condescending at times. But I think it’s more that they like to keep their cards close to their vests, not that they don’t know what they’re doing.”
Gratified that she felt that his concerns were not unfounded, Harry settled down in his bed to do a spot of research. Greedily, he turned to page 394 where the section entitled “Poisons and Medications, Differences and Similarities” began:
At the risk of stating the obvious, a poison is a potion that creates an undesired result that may be transitory or permanent. A medication is a potion that ameliorates an existing condition, provided that condition was not caused by a poison. If the condition was caused by a poison, the potion that alleviates the symptoms is classified as an antidote. (Please refer to Antidotes chapter to a more detailed discussion of how antidotes are distilled.)
In practice, however, these distinctions can become blurred. In the hands of Healer, a poison can become a medication if the properly controlled dosage is administered. A medication used in a method other than prescribed can result in an overdose “ which is a form of poisoning. Absent the condition for which a medication is intended, its active ingredients can often have adverse effects, i.e. a poisoning.
That is not to say that poisons cannot have beneficial applications also. Take the case of a doxycide agent that is used to eradicate household pests. To the doxy itself, it is poisonous enough that it prevents their return to the site, i.e. future infestations. To the witch or wizard applying the agent, the substance can be a poison if not administered properly (with dragon-hide gloves) of if it is ingested accidentally (orally). Yet used in well-ventilated areas, the results would be classified as beneficial.
Three elements are crucial in determining whether a potion is to be classified as a medication or a poison: (1) the desired result, (2) the subject, and (3) the dosage.
The desired result is addressed in the definition of the terms themselves.
The condition of the subject is essential as some medications that are beneficial to some are poisonous (or ineffective) for others. A case in point is that of the Wolfsbane Potion: when administered to a werewolf, it is considered to be preventative medicine, yet it is deadly poisonous when consumed by a subject unaffected by lycanthropy.
In certain dosages, some poisons can be used for medicinal purposes as the human body can neutralize trace amounts without any adverse effects. The dosage can often be gradually increased as the subject’s tolerance grows -- but only to a certain maximum. Beyond that maximum, the poisonous effects cannot be controlled. The results of some poisons are affected by the amount that is ingested with more severe and life-threatening results occurring as the dosage increases.
Although most poisons must be ingested orally in order to be most effective, certain poisons can also be absorbed through the pores of the skin or in the air that we breathe. The most insidious poisons can combine elements of all three methods of delivery (oral, topical, or air-borne) with varying results in each case. Due to the variation of symptoms caused in each circumstance, it is often vital to determine how a poison was delivered in order to properly prepare an effective antidote.
Poisons are classified according to certain properties that they may share. Since these properties are often the result of similar ingredients, the classification process can assist in the timely distillation of an effective antidote. Proper categorization of a poison also assists in the determination of the unique ingredient that Golpalott’s Third Law (see Antidotes chapter) stipulates is essential to every antidote.Class A
Non-lethal, may cause extreme sickness but will not typically result in death unless the health of the subject has previously been compromised by other means. May be fast-acting or not; antidotes may or may not exist.Class B
Life-threatening, fast-acting. Shelf life is limited in many cases, but not all. Effectiveness is often compromised if not used within a certain time frame. Antidotes exists, but must be administered within a very small window of time to be effective.Class C
Life-threatening, slow-acting. These poisons can lie dormant for many years without losing their potency. Antidotes exists and can be administered with more leeway after the poisoning event, although their effectiveness is maximized the sooner that they are administered. Time threshold varies as to when antidotes cease to be effective. Most poisons which can be absorbed through the skin fall into this category.Class D
Life-threatening, instantaneous. No symptoms occur with these poisons as death is immediate. Ironically, antidotes exist but must be mixed with the poison before it is ingested in order to neutralize its effects. All known poisons in this class must be ingested orally.Class Z
Life-threatening, no known antidote. May be fast-acting or slow-acting. Death is inevitable, although in rare instances, the life of the victim can be prolonged much as in the case of an incurable disease.
It is important to note, however, that the preceding classification system is only a tool. Due to the constant creation of new poisons and medications, exceptions often tend to be more prevalent than those substances that can be assigned a certain niche. Luckily, research in antidotes makes daily strides as well, so those poisons which are classified as having no known antidotes are constantly being revised as well.
A note on the terms fast-acting and slow-acting: these refer to the length of time before the effects of the poison reach their peak, regardless of whether the end result is death or just sickness. In the case of non-lethal poisons, any antidote administered prior to this peak will be effective. In the case of lethal poisons, however, there exists a contamination point after which no antidote will prevent death, even though that death may be hours or days in coming.
Symptoms associated with poisoning can occur almost immediately, although it is more common for them to manifest within the first few hours after the poisoning event, particularly in the case of slow-acting poisons. Common poisoning symptoms include, but are not limited to: headache, blurry vision, nausea and vomiting (orally ingested poisons only), delirium, hallucinations, dizziness, high fever, and extreme paranoia. Sudden and uncontrollable drowsiness is a sign of a fast-acting poison; icy chills are an indication that the poison has reached the stage where its effects have become inevitable and irreversible.
All know poisons create some sort of unpleasant symptoms as a warning to the victim; although in the case of instantaneous poisons, these occur simultaneously with death. Often discussed in theoretical terms only, a symptom-less poison that would give no warning to its potential victim has yet to be found or created.Poisonous Substances
All manner of poisonous substances are utilized in the preparation of potions. In combination with other ingredients, poisonous substances are almost always rendered benign. Simple precautions such as protective gloves, protective eye gear, and frequent hand washing are generally enough to prevent unexpected contamination from these dangerous ingredients.
Unless mixed with other ingredients, substances from flowering plants are among the most poisonous in nature. Unlike the red flower that often warns animals and insects of dangerous consequences, no such flagging system exists when it comes to human consumption. Despite the pleasing aroma that lures the unwary, a distillation of orchid throats, essence of hyacinth, and nectar of roe becomes deadly when their elements are combined. Suspended in alcohol, it becomes the Black Widow’s Kiss, so named because it can be applied topically on the skin without any adverse effect, but if the skin comes in brief contact with the victim’s lips (such as in a kiss), even ingesting a minimal amount can be deadly. Suspended in denatured ether, however, the same combination appears as an active ingredient in many medications used to treat heart irregularities. The difference between that which will cause a man’s heart to stop permanently and that which will adjust it to a regular cadence can be measured in microns.
The same does not hold true for animal venoms which are often decanted for use in potions. Although due care must be exercised to avoid contamination prior to adding them to the potion ingredients, the steaming process alone often inactivates the poisonous properties. Unlike in the case of plant substances, no known combination of animal venoms exists that exponentially increases the toxicity of the individual substances.
Harry’s head was spinning from the sheer quantity of possibilities and the circuitous nature of the explanations. His brain felt like it was being poisoned, he thought wryly. Was it his imagination or was the author actually rhapsodizing about the inherent beauty and variety of poisons? Harry was reminded of the dark ode that Snape had unconsciously wrought in his introductory Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson last year. He shivered despite the fact that it was cozy under his warm blankets.
It would be interesting to see if the Half-Blood Prince had made any notations in the margins of the poisons section of his book but Harry didn’t relish a midnight visit to the other side of the castle to satisfy his curiosity. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Laying the textbook on his bedside cabinet, he carefully folded his glasses on top before turning out the light. Snuggling comfortably under his bedcovers, he was soon asleep. His dreams had him drowning in various violently colored potions, trying vainly to move against an unseen current. Only in one instance did he succeed in swimming to the side only to find that the lip of the vat was yards beyond his reach.
Carefully balancing the Half-Blood Prince’s book on his lap, he cleared a modicum of space on the floor of the Treasure Room so he could sit comfortably. Perhaps it was Lupin’s influence, but the first thing that Harry noted was that the Prince’s book contained no mention of the Wolfsbane Potion in its discussion of medications that could be poisonous. Based on stray comments, Harry had concluded that the Wolfsbane treatment was a relatively recent innovation as it certainly had not been available when Lupin was at school. It would stand to reason that Hermione’s book would be a more recently updated edition. Briefly, he wondered what other differences might exist, but dismissed it as irrelevant since Slughorn had not mentioned that there were various editions when allowing him and Ron to use old volumes.
It was not easy turning pages in dragon-hide gloves, but Harry considered them a necessary precaution now that the book had been conclusively identified as a Horcrux. He was vindicated when he located a number of scrawled comments in the margins of the poisons chapter. As a matter of fact, the notations had been made in two distinct hands. The first comment was in the Prince’s spidery handwriting but the response also seemed familiar in some manner that Harry could not immediately identify. He concentrated on the few instances where he had seen Slughorn’s writing on the dungeon blackboard, but that was definitely not it. Nor was it Dumbledore’s spiky scribble, either. Putting that problem aside temporarily, Harry concentrated on the words of the conversation themselves.
Based on this cretin’s estimation, the Borgias deserve more credit than Michelangelo for important contributions to the High Renaissance, began the Prince.
Probably has Rasputin’s birthday circled in his calendar, as well, returned the other.
Perhaps if he set his ode to music it might be easier to remember.
Only the uncategorized poisons are truly important. They represent the new symphonies of undiscovered maestros.
Now look who’s waxing poetic…
You introduced the analogy to music, I just went along with it.
But wouldn’t a symptom-less poison be the antithesis of a symphony?
Yet it would resonate in the depths of our hearts regardless.
Harry was struck by how unusual this patter seemed for a bit of classroom idleness. Not only that, but the companion’s tone was actually the more condescending of the two. He could almost hear the likes of Lucius Malfoy uttering such pronouncements but the man would not have been a classmate of Snape’s. Malfoy, he knew, was a number of years older.
Abruptly the misty depths of his memory lurched into sharper focus as Harry saw the same handwriting rising from the depths of the page, summoned to life by his own hasty scrawls. Surely, it couldn’t be, could it? This was the same writing that Harry recalled from Riddle’s diary. From an object that Dumbledore had already identified as a Horcrux!
But Snape and Riddle had definitely not been contemporaries; how could this conversation have taken place? Snape had indicated that the Potions book had been a gift from Voldemort. Could it be that they had conducted this clandestine bit of wordplay during the proceedings of the Wizengamot? Hardly seemed like the type of banter a person would engage in when his freedom hung in the balance “ Harry could attest to that personally. Could Riddle have been so arrogant to suppose that the court’s opinion was a foregone conclusion once his eloquent words had been presented?
The more Harry thought about it, though, the more it made a strange sort of sense. Not only that, but it seemed as if the last bit of the puzzle had finally been locked into place.
Trembling in excitement at his momentous discovery, Harry copied the pages in question onto some blank scraps of parchment he pulled out of his book bag. He would need to discuss this with Lupin.
The upcoming Grudge March had everyone in high spirits at Wednesday afternoon’s dueling practice. Ginny was badgering Tonks so much about learning some of her flashier acrobatic moves that Lupin finally relented and allowed the two of them to train individually in the Room of Requirement.
“Besides, I have something I’d like to go over with Harry, if that’s all right with the rest of you,” Lupin announced amicably.
“Of course,” Tonks replied with a wink towards Ginny. “It’s ‘Boys Night Out’, anyway. Just promise me that you’ll stay away from the cognac, Remus. Remember what the Healers said.”
“They really are an uncompromising lot.” Lupin scowled as he gave Tonks a quick kiss in parting.
Back in the confines of Lupin’s office, Harry stretched luxuriously before easing back into the armchair. Lupin had already gone into the next room to order an early supper since Harry had promised Ginny he would see her later.
“So what do you have for me this evening?” Harry asked expectantly as Lupin settled himself in the facing chair.
“I had a most interesting visitor after you and Ginny left on Saturday,” Lupin began. “Bill Weasley.”
Harry kept his face impassive as he couldn’t imagine Bill betraying any of their past legal dealings. “How is Bill?” he remarked noncommittally.
“He’s fine; everyone else at the Burrow is fine, also. Fleur is getting a bit impatient with her mother for not compromising on the wedding arrangements “ she’s tired of the constant postponements.”
“Bill talked to you about his wedding arrangements?”
“Well, that part of the conversation was mostly between him and Tonks,” Lupin supplied with a sharp laugh. “But I was right there, too!”
“Remus, you really had me worried there for a moment…” Harry laughed in return.
“Seriously, though, Bill reported some unusual goings on at Godric’s Hollow that you should probably know about. The estate agents from Gringott’s like to keep up with these things as the settlement of the estate is still in limbo.”
“Surely the Fidelius Charm hasn’t been broken?”
“Nothing as earth-shattering as that. Just a spot of irregular activity in the immediate area. Enough for an enterprising young estate agent to think that the Secret-Keeper may have taken someone else into his confidence after all.”
“But, Remus, it could be anyone! Pettigrew is like a loose--”
“”actually, he isn’t,” Lupin corrected with quiet authority. “They all think he’s dead, and I’m not about to disabuse them of that notion.”
“So they concluded that it must be one of us?” Harry sighed. “Arthur told me they’d been hounding you for years. I’m sorry, Remus.”
“I suspect that it’s probably Pettigrew himself or one of his Death Eater cronies, but I’m not sharing that with them. We’ll need to keep a close watch on it, though; time may be growing shorter than we think.”
“Then it’s lucky that Bill gets his updates via Gringott’s,” Harry supplied. “Keeps the rest of us out of the picture.”
“Exactly,” agreed Lupin. “An errant goblin or two aren’t likely to raise any hackles among the Death Eaters. However, now that you’re of age, I suspect Gringott’s delightful overtures are far more likely to be directed at you. After all, you are the new cog in the wheel; my denials have all been well documented.”
“Surely they won’t just show up here at the school gates?” Harry inquired with dread.
“Not if they don’t want to be fed to Hagrid’s menagerie, they won’t!” Lupin scoffed. “They’re more likely to send you a bit of owl post, purporting to acquaint you of your rights. If that doesn’t work, well, then a new agent intent on proving his mettle might get more creative. The Potter estate has become a Holy Grail of sorts, potentially unattainable, and that much more desirable for that very reason.”
“If I see any goblins on horseback wielding Excalibur, I’ll be sure to run the other direction!” Harry quipped.
Lupin burst out laughing in spite of himself. “Unfortunately, their creativity manifests itself in more annoying ways. For instance, Minerva already informed me that an owl was received today, addressed to you via the office of the headmistress. Standard procedure in the case of all legal documents. She suggested you stop by whenever it’s convenient, but please don’t think it’s anything urgent.”
“Sounds like a bit of a chore, doesn’t it?”
“She’ll be able to give you some direction even without betraying any issues of confidentiality,” Lupin reassured him. “Now if I’m not mistaken, our dinner should be waiting for us in the other room.”
After a satisfying bowl of meaty stew, Harry settled down in front of the fire and dug out the parchment that he had hastily copied earlier in the day. With an amused expression, Lupin watched Harry over the rim of the single glass of port wine that the Healers had allotted him. Harry handed the pages over and explained their origin, leaving out any mention of why he had thought to look there in first place. He was convinced that Lupin was too intent on tiptoeing around the poisoning issue to pose such a question point blank.
As Harry waited patiently to observe Lupin’s reaction, the tables were turned. “What do you make of it?” Lupin urged.
“So you recognize the handwriting?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Sorry, you have me at a disadvantage there.”
“From the other pages in the book, you can see that the first hand is that of the Prince himself: Snape. The other I recognize from a cursed diary that belonged to Tom Riddle. He used it to ensnare Ginny during my second year.”
“Ginny categorized that as being an opportunistic act by Lucius Malfoy,” Lupin commented.
“I think it was, but does it make any difference to the pawn whether it was chosen deliberately or at random?”
Lupin smiled gently to indicate he understood Harry’s concerns then added, “Still you must have a phenomenal memory to remember the handwriting so many years later.”
“Let’s just say it’s been preying on my mind more and more since Ginny and I started seeing one another again,” Harry admitted candidly.
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility since the book was published about the time that Voldemort attended Hogwarts.”
“I know it’s all conjecture, but those words finally explain why Riddle went to such great lengths to recruit an unpedigreed Slytherin like Snape. He saw Snape’s potential as an inspired Potions Master, one who would not be hampered by too much love for his fellow man to resist branching out into new territory.”
Lupin was momentarily stunned. “You’re suggesting that Voldemort was considering some sort of biological weapon? Certainly, that’s how Muggles would classify it!”
“Raises all sorts of possibilities, doesn’t it?” Harry concluded grimly.
Harry did not dare to share the rest of his conclusions even though he would very much have like to do so. Lupin’s innate drive to get to the bottom of everything made it virtually impossible to hide the source of his information “ and this was hardly the time to give up Snape.
More than ever, Harry felt that Snape’s flair for potions had ultimately been his undoing. In Voldemort’s arrogance to show his newest disciple that he had nothing worth saving, the seeds of Snape’s betrayal had been sown. Encasing a bit of his murdered wife’s consciousness in the Horcrux was such a heinous act that it had led Snape to finally abandon the Death Eaters with Voldemort’s lesson intact “ he had nothing left to lose. To have returned to face them as if nothing had changed would have required great courage and perseverance. No wonder being called a coward on the night of Dumbledore’s death has so enraged him, although none of that had made sense to Harry at the time. Finally, the pieces of the puzzle fit together in such a way that there were no gaping holes.
He awoke the next morning eager to hear what Snape himself had to say about poisons. Despite his outward intractability, Harry suspected that Snape could be made to speak at length about a favorite subject. Wrapping his brain around the textbook rhetoric had not appealed to Harry the previous evening so he had elected to spend a delightful few hours with Ginny instead. As a result, he had not been plagued by nightmares at all.
As the hour of contact drew near, he debated which strategies he would employ. But as usual, Snape had designs of his own.
“What time is the Grudge Match on Saturday?” he demanded almost immediately. “And the line-up?”
Once supplied with the details, Snape nodded his head in satisfaction. “Perfect. We will meet at 2:30 in the afternoon at the site that you selected.”
Harry was speechless. “That doesn’t allow Ron and Hermione to accompany me and that was part of our arrangement.”
Snape shrugged disdainfully. “Tell them to throw the match.”
“How can I possibly--”
“Look, Potter, the whole school will be distracted, teachers and headmistresses included. An ideal time to accomplish our task without anyone being the wiser.”
Bitterly, Harry conceded the logic of Snape’s stratagem. The rematch that everyone was anticipating was the one between Ginny and Luna; everything else was just a warm-up for the crowd.
“I’m not certain I’ll be able to convince Ron and Hermione,” Harry protested.
“Granger will respond to the irrefutable logic of it; Weasley will follow her lead,” Snape declared as if it were already a foregone conclusion. “I will give you a one hour window. If not, the meeting is rescheduled for 2:30 a.m., twelve hours later. Need I remind you that our transaction should be completed about the same time as the match? Someone will be looking for the three of you once it has ended. Do we understand one another?”
“Yes, but please--” Harry was not ready for him to sign off just yet.
“Why is it always something else with you, Potter? The simplest instructions and you need a road map and a social calendar--”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Excuse me, a drama coach to coax the words from your throat, as well!” Snape added derisively. “I’m surprised you don’t need an entourage to lead you to the dinner table each --”
“Perhaps you could use one to help you locate your civility “ or would that require a team of archeologists digging day and night for a decade?” Harry held his breath, fearing that he had finally gone too far.
Instead Snape looked at him intently as if he was seeing him for the first time. His eyes narrowed as the anger smoldered within, but Harry had finally gotten his undivided attention.
Without waiting for something else to interfere, Harry blurted, “The ingredient in Lupin’s potion is hibiscus buds! The flowers and pollen are too unstable to keep for long periods of time. It has to be specially transported from the tropics…” His voice died in his throat at the unmistakable look of horror on Snape’s face.
“Please tell me I didn’t hear you correctly,” Snape intoned softly. “Did you say hibiscus buds?”
Harry nodded wordlessly, unsure what to make of Snape’s reaction.
“May Merlin watch over us, they might as well be playing Russian roulette!”
“What is it?” Harry wailed in alarm. “Please, you must tell me--”
“Have the aberrations started yet? You can only control so much with counter-measures before the effects become irreversible.”
“There have been side-effects for a number of months now. Probably more, but Lupin’s not one to talk about such private matters with me.”
“Then how do you bloody well know?”
“It’s been noticeable enough for me to remark on it since the start of term. He admits to things only when it’s unavoidable.”
“Has he experienced bouts of unconsciousness yet? Surely those would be somewhat difficult to disguise.”
Harry had no idea how he should respond. The entirety of the contingency plan depended upon him not saying anything to anyone about such matters. He felt the carefully knit strands start to unravel around him as he stared at Snape in the mirror, knowing that his face was probably betraying him and being unable to stop it.
Snape stared back for an impossibly long time, exercising stores of patience that Harry would have never suspected the man possessed. Finally sensing the stalemate, Snape broke eye contact and muttered, “Of course, too much is at stake to trust blindly. I will provide you with the literature where this information can be found. I could save you hours of work, but sometimes it’s necessary to do the digging on one’s own.”
Was the bitterness in Snape’s voice actually tinged with regret? Harry was as much in shock over the change in the man’s outward demeanor as he was to know that his own deepest fears concerning Lupin’s treatment might turn out to be true.
“You will find the majority of these materials in the headmistress’ library. I recommend that you locate them without having to ask for assistance from any teachers unless you wish to be grilled ad nauseum. These are not the sorts of publications that would appeal to a casual researcher, so take heed.”
“If I can’t find it there?”
“Ask Slughorn directly. He’s enough of an egotistical fanatic to think that everyone shares the same passions as he does and will just see your request as confirmation. He will, however, try to engage you in a long, philosophical conversation. At least trust me on that…”
Harry made notes feverishly as Snape outlined a number of articles in various professional journals. Since he was working from memory alone, Snape did not always have the exact date of publication but was able to offer a range whenever possible.
“That’s the best I can do for now, Potter. I will contact you if I think of anything significant that I’ve missed. It will be after midnight, but it’s the best I can offer you.”
“I have plenty to get me started--”
“”this is about getting a complete picture, not a start!” Snape snapped. “You may not have as much time as you think. To his credit, Lupin has always struck me as being rather resilient, but I’m hardly a Healer, either. Is he taking the potion as we speak?”
Harry hesitated, feeling the trap begin to close in on him again.
“ANSWER ME, POTTER! I CAN’T HELP YOU IF I DON’T HAVE AT LEAST A FEW OF THE FACTS!”
As he felt the cold knot of fear settle into his stomach, Harry answered through numb lips, “The potion has been discontinued temporarily, but they intend to resume in time for the next full moon.”
“That’s nine days away,” Snape confirmed. “Wolfsbane has to be started at least four days in advance. That’s your window, Potter. You have to find these documents as well as convince the potion maker to take them seriously within five days. Ideally, four days since you may not know what hour they are using for the beginning of each twenty-four hour block. Now go!”
With no chance for protest or further inquiries, the mirror returned to its impassive silver surface. Feeling like his heart was straining to break free from his ribcage, Harry grabbed his book bag and took off at a trot for the headmistress’ library. His limbs seemed like they were disconnected from the rest of his body but somehow they knew just what was required of them. He declined to acknowledge the icy dread that was threatening to engulf him.
Hearing the gentle knock on the library door, Harry rubbed his weary eyes once more before readjusting his glasses. He had no idea how late it was, only that the glow of the sunset had washed over his work table earlier and now the evening stars twinkled above the black waters of the lake. Mist had rolled down from the mountains and it glowed eerily when the moonbeams caught it just so.
“Harry, are you still working in there?” McGonagall asked with a hint of concern in her voice.
“Yes, Headmistress. I must’ve lost track of the time,” he admitted as he closed the open journals and hastily returned them to their places.
He was just sliding the last bound volume of periodicals onto a shelf when he saw the headmistress’ head peek around the door. She surveyed the sheets of parchment that were still splayed all over the large tabletop.
“Did you stop for supper, dear?” she inquired as she eased the door open further.
“I wasn’t really hungry.” It was an honest reply; he had been much too upset to eat earlier. The strain of pretending that nothing was amiss in his training session with Lupin had taxed him to the point of nausea.
“You’ve been at it since before lunch, if I’m not mistaken, and then back again since teatime. Are you trying to set a new land record?”
Harry smiled weakly. “Just facing a deadline, Professor. I misjudged just how much research my project would require.”
She nodded in understanding as he stacked all his documents together then slid them into his book bag. She stood patiently holding the door open until he was finished. As he walked past, he felt the whisper of her hand on his arm.
“Come sit with me a bit,” the headmistress offered. “We’ll have a spot of tea and chat until Neville stops by on his rounds. You can return to Gryffindor Tower with him.”
“Is it past curfew already?” Harry started, running his fingers wearily through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Professor, I really didn’t mean to impose on you so late.”
“Nonsense, Harry. I could’ve interrupted you much earlier but it seemed unnecessary as I had some paperwork of my own. It’s remarkably soothing to know that someone else is working diligently in the next room “ even though they may be out of sight.”
He watched her go through the motions of preparing the tea, thinking that the familiarity of the ritual was soothing as well. She did not speak again until she handed him a warm mug with milk and sugar.
“I know you usually take your tea with lemon, but a spot of warm milk will lull you to sleep tonight,” she suggested gently. “I find that after I’ve been concentrating on subjects too intensely, I dream about them as well. As if I could accomplish anything from under the covers!”
“You never find the solution has worked itself out in your subconscious?” Harry posed conversationally.
“I didn’t realize that it was a conundrum that you were researching.”
“It isn’t. I’ve just heard of people who can be productive even in their dreams. I wondered if you were one of them.”
“Sadly, no.” She smiled. “How about you?”
“No such luck.” He sighed regretfully.
“Did Professor Lupin tell you that I received a letter from Gringott’s addressed to you?” she asked as she deftly changed the subject.
Harry nodded. “I meant to ask you about that when I came in earlier but you were busy with other matters.”
“Like I told him, I’m sure it’s perfectly routine. It’s not unusual to receive legal documents for students who are of age,” she explained as she handed Harry a parchment envelope that bore the wax seal of Gringott’s Wizarding Bank.
Harry looked at it as if it were a strange unknown specimen that might bite him if provoked. Realizing that he was just overtired, he tucked it into his book bag to read tomorrow.
“You know that you’re not obligated to respond in any way. They cannot proceed without your express instructions, and without those, their hands are tied,” McGonagall volunteered.
That would just mean the parasites would go after Lupin, Harry thought desolately. If there was anything that this day’s research had taught him, it was that Lupin already had more than enough on his plate. Aloud, he replied, “And if I should wish to respond?”
McGonagall gave him a surprised look over her square spectacles. “Then you should be unequivocal,” she enunciated crisply. “You must not couch your words in requests, but rather demands. The social niceties are worthless in legal matters.”
Harry nodded that he understood as he felt his eyelids growing heavier by the minute. Could that faint knocking be Neville on his rounds?
“And, Harry, your signature must be witnessed on any document in order to be legally binding,” the headmistress reminded him. “I can assist you with that or Professors Flitwick or Sinistra, if you prefer.” She lifted her eyes to the door as a louder knock was heard. “Come in, Neville. I have a straggler that’s headed back in your direction.”
Tonks was just allowing the last of her students to file to their seats when Harry arrived in her classroom the next day.
“Harry, I didn’t expect to see you this morning.” She smiled as she excused herself momentarily.
“I didn’t mean to take you away from you class,” Harry offered by way of apology. “Something… important has come up.”
At her bewildered expression, he added, “I need to speak with you in private.”
“You could join Remus and me for tea this--” she began then caught sight of his solemn expression. “Would it be better if we met during lunch?”
Harry nodded. “Just so we’re not interrupted. One o’clock is fine.”
Not wanting to worry her any sooner than necessary, Harry gave her arm an affectionate squeeze and then hurried off to the golden library once more. He had one last document to find then he needed to organize the material and review it himself so that he could emphasize the salient points as needed. It wouldn’t do to just leave the documents with Tonks to review in her own time. The situation was too critical and the timeframe too limited for that.
As he struggled to comprehend the technical language of some of the articles, he fought the anger that just seemed to build up of its own accord. Snape was right, Harry conceded ruefully, Tonks was too inexperienced for such an undertaking. But if she hadn’t stepped up to do so, who would have? He doubted Madam Pomfrey would’ve taken full responsibility as Tonks had done so decisively. It’s not like there were boatloads of volunteers, either. Far too many wizards didn’t even consider werewolves to be human. Luckily, the headmistress didn’t teach her students such prejudice at Hogwarts. Her subtle strategy demanded that Lupin be treated just like everybody else “ at least on the surface. There was no doubt that Tonks’ unrepentant devotion also did much to bolster that image. Nonetheless, it was a ruse that often put extra strain on Lupin to maintain.
Despite Lupin’s words, there had to be other alternatives. Harry was determined that he could find them, even if all of his other projects were placed on the back burner. Like Lupin, he found himself rallying against the circumstances themselves and that was a shapeless adversary who could not be fought directly.
His stomach surprised him when he walked into Tonks’ offices for lunch. For the first time in nearly two days, the aroma of food had not put him off entirely. He took a deep swallow of butterbeer and felt a bit of his frustration begin to ebb away.
“I can’t say you haven’t had me worrying all morning, Harry,” Tonks began amicably as she drew up a chair.
How to begin? Harry thought to himself. That was the one bit of conversation he hadn’t rehearsed in his mind.
With a deep breath, he admitted, “I’m not exactly sure where to start, Tonks. Perhaps you should just read through these studies that I’ve compiled. They tend to speak for themselves.”
“You could just tell me what they say,” she suggested.
“I could, but you really should digest the information firsthand. When we discuss it afterwards, I want to know that you have as much of the facts as I do. Actually, there are areas that you may well understand better than I.”
“It seems rather rude to just read while you’re my guest,” she demurred.
“I promise you I won’t be offended. That’s the primary reason I came here. You wouldn’t want to send me away unsatisfied, would you?” He hazarded an encouraging smile in her direction, hoping that his eyes didn’t look as dead to her as they felt from the inside. “Here, I’ve even organized them into a logical sequence for you.”
“As long as we’re not standing on ceremony, please help yourself to some food while I start then.”
Harry complied by filling his plate with sandwiches and some sort of pasta salad with a lemony poppy seed dressing. Each flavor seemed like a new experience to his undernourished body as he felt the unmistakable return of strength and patience that he vaguely remembered possessing at one time. Not wanting to overdo it all at once, he turned away from second servings even though the food items seemed to beckon from their dishes.
He turned his attention to Tonks who was deep in thought as she neared the conclusion of the first document, her brow furrowed with concentration. When she finished, she looked up at Harry with haunted eyes.
“Dear spirits, what have we done? Does it get any better?” she implored.
“Not really. Although it will seem a bit less hopeless as you read some of the follow-up studies.”
Harry patiently waited for her to plough through the rest of the papers before her. He could tell that she was skimming through some of the more technical parts, but felt certain that she would review those in more detail later. There was no longer any doubt that she was taking this seriously.
Hearing the sound of laughter from the lawn outside, Harry strolled over to the tall window to gaze out on the school grounds. Knots of students were spread out all over the lawn and even as far as the edges of the Forbidden Forest. The grey clouds that had leached all color from the landscape had melted into feathery wisps across a boundless blue.
It would be a perfect day for a nice hike, he thought. Perhaps he would suggest it to Lupin this afternoon. They would both need to keep their attention on the rough terrain and the infrequent eye contact would certainly make it easier to keep his current worries under wraps. He didn’t think he could make it through another session like the one yesterday. He was just not that accomplished an actor and Lupin could read him entirely too well.
Harry turned around as he heard the rustle of paper. Thinking Tonks had finished the last article, he walked over to find that she had placed the folder with unsteady hands back on the table. When she looked up at him, Harry could see that she had been crying.
“I had no idea… How could I… If only… How did you ever…” she stammered through her tears until she just gave up and buried her face in her hands.
Harry kneeled beside her chair and gently wrapped her in his arms. She felt as frail as a baby bird. “It’s all right… We discovered this in time; no need to wonder about situations that never came to pass… We’ll find something else that’ll work better,” he soothed her, letting the conviction of his words flow into her even though he really had no idea how they could accomplish any of those things. “Just be glad you didn’t start back with the same treatment again.”
With great startled eyes, she looked up at him in anguish. “Oh, Harry, I can’t bear to think what might’ve happened!”
“Put it out of your mind,” he urged softly.
“How ever did you find all this information?”
“Here and there,” he dissembled. “I even used one of those searching spells that Remus himself taught to Hermione… It really doesn’t matter how I found it, just as long as you have it now.”
He was thankful that she didn’t question the vagueness of his explanation.
“At least the last article provides some suggestions,” Tonks commented weakly. “I wish it gave more specific dosages; the standard proportions don’t always work for werewolves.”
“You’ll just have to do a bit of experimenting,” Harry suggested, ignoring the disquiet that stirred in him. “I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to assist you with dosages and such.”
Tonks nodded. “I’ll need to run everything by Minerva, as well. Do you wish to be present for that conversation, Harry?”
Her offer caught him by surprise. “I think it best if I just melt into the background, Tonks. I’ve interfered enough as it is and I don’t want anyone to --”
“”to what, Harry? Conclude that you might actually have gone to the trouble to get some hard facts? There’s no crime in that. You should take credit for what you’ve accomplished.”
I’ve done nothing, he reminded himself, absolutely nothing; the credit belongs to Snape. Aloud, Harry replied, “The true accomplishment will be yours when you adjust the potion so that it no longer poses a threat. Please keep my name out of it; just let me know your final decision, all right?”
Tonks searched his face carefully, her eyes full of unshed tears. He knew that she was reading the strain of his long hours of research. Finally she nodded and hugged him tightly in thanks. There was no need for words.