Madrigal

“Which filter should I be using to strain the Steel Stomach Solution?” Hermione asked me a few days later during one of our marathon brewing sessions. We had three batches going of a potion that I’d created when I feared the Dark Lord was going to start using Veritaserum during our meetings. It is a quite brilliant concoction, if I do say so myself, that forms a semi-permeable membrane lining the interior of the esophagus, stomach, and intestines. It allows nutrients and water to pass the barrier, but blocks any substance with magical properties. The main problem I had with perfecting the mixture was that it was exceedingly hard on the stomach. It damaged the lining of the gastrointestinal tract so severely that I’d be unable to eat for days after using it.

“Sizes 7 through 13 sequentially,” I replied, comparing the viscosity and color of our various batches for quality control.

“Wouldn’t you need to take it down to the microscopic level in order to properly filter the potion?”

“Indeed. But the viscosity of the draught is such that it took hours for a small amount to flow through the 10 micron filter, and expired before it could even finish,” I replied with a small shrug.

Her face was thoughtful for a long moment before she suggested, “What about distilling? Muggles do it for alcohol, water, all sorts of stuff…”

I immediately scoffed, but then the wheels in my mind began to turn. “Well, all the important elements ARE volatile enough to enter a gaseous state at a comparatively low temperature. And it would leave behind the suspended particles from the powered quartz that irritates the stomach so badly. But how would it affect the acidity? It’s already quite low in pH, and condensing it would exacerbate the problem,” I frowned.

“Why not try to even it out by adding something basic? Like calcium carbonate? Or even milk?”

“Hmm… you know that might just work! Adding non-magical components shouldn’t affect the magical properties of the potion, but they could ameliorate the negative physical effects it causes in the human body…” I pondered.

“Should we try it?? We can do one of the batches as the control, one with milk, and one with calcium carbonate! You did say that Kingsley Shacklebolt only requested two flasks, so there should be plenty left over to experiment on…” she asked excitedly, her eyes shining with cleverness.

And don’t you know it, the brat was right! I had spent three damn years working on this potion, and she fixed it in a fucking day! We found that the antacid Hermione excitedly produced from her schoolbag made the mixture far too thick. It had an exceedingly unpleasant mouth-feel, was challenging to swallow, and left a horrible film coating the tongue. The milk, however, when combined with the distilled potion with the help of an emulsifying agent, thinned the mixture quite nicely and brought the pH down by a point and a half.

“Quite remarkable, Miss Granger,” I murmured many hours later. She was curled up on the couch, half asleep, as I was putting the finishing touches on the suspension spells for the flasks of potion.

She smiled at me sleepily and gave a huge yawn, and the image was so picture-perfect it broke my heart. “I don’t know that you’ve ever given me a compliment, Master Snape,” she quipped.

“Nonsense, every moment I’m not actively criticizing is a compliment,” I replied crisply. She honored me with an eye-roll and a giggle that made my stomach do somersaults. “Now, head up to bed. It’s nearly 4 am. You did excellent work today, Miss Granger.” She gave me a brilliant smile as she vacated the lab, leaving me hopelessly bereft as always. “Good night, Professor. Thanks for actually listening to my suggestions instead of passing them off as muggle nonsense like most wizards would.”

I laid awake a long time that night, pondering the extrapolations of what she’d said. Muggle nonsense indeed…