The Moon Has Spoken

The TV grew tiresome after a while, even for Ron, who was still amazed by it.
Soon enough, the endless chatter box had been forgotten, and the three of them were discussing back what seemed to occupy their minds most of the time, besides their respective couples and the fight against Voldemort: The newly developed relationship between the Greasy Git and the Banshee Witch.
Even the way they thought of them seemed oddly fitting.

“For crying out loud”, said Hermione, “Would you drop it already? I mean, what’s there to fuss about?”

“Well, for one, the fact that I think Fiddler could have done a lot better!”, Ron answered.

“That’s true”, Harry said. “But then again, we don’t really know Snape at all. Maybe he’s different with her”, he added, evenly.

“Don’t reckon so”, Ron chided. “He’s not the malleable kind of fellow”.

“If anything, that’s a compliment”, said Hermione. “But, come on, just because you don’t like him, it doesn’t mean no one does!”

“Um, Hermione… No one does”.

“Fiddler does!”

“The lass is crazy!”, Ron exclaimed dismissively, as if that excused that outrageous behavior. “Then again, if I didn’t know we’re not allowed to perform magic I’d think he’s done something to her”.

“Oh, please, Ron, that’s mean!”

“Sounds like him all right… And will you PLEASE stop defending him?!”

The three of them went silent for a while.

“Do you think”, Hermione spoke at last. “That he loves her, though?”

“Now, that’s a fair question”, Ron said quietly.

“To be honest, I don’t reckon he’s capable of love”, Harry said. “But that’s just me”.

Hermione’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Oh, come ON, Hermione, there’s no way you can debate THAT!”, Ron said. “I mean, look at him, can you honestly imagine him¯”, Ron’s face blanched and he shrugged. “Urgh, that’s disgusting!”.

Harry and Hermione laughed heartily.

“It’s just that… Well, Fiddler seems really happy”, Hermione said, “and I am pretty sure she’s indeed in love with him”, Ron’s and Harry’s faces frowned in disgust and disbelief. “But I am not so sure about him… Maybe he’s just using her, but then again, Fiddler’s smart enough to realise that, I wager, so she wouldn’t fall for him… Although… Sometimes it’s not that easy”.

“Boy, are relationships complicated”, Harry mused.

“Tell me about it”, Ron agreed resentfully and Hermione glared at him. “Well”, he added, “Snape’s a Slytherin. If anyone knows how to take advantage of such a situation, it’s him”.

“Yes, but Fiddler’s very vulnerable in that matter”.

“Is she?”, both Harry and Ron seemed actually surprised.

“Honestly, don’t you ever listen?”, Hermione said exasperately.

“Listen to what?”

“The songs she hears and hums all the time?”, Harry pointed out. “It’s true, they do seem to cry something out… What was the one we heard on our way here?”

“I don’t recall the name”, Hermione said. “But the words I do, because it reminded me of the potion. It went something like …”, she cleared her throat and declamed:

“How can I ever feel again?
Given the chance would I return?
I\'ve never felt so alone in my life
As I drank from a cup which was counting my time
There\'s a poison drop in this cup of Man
To drink it is to follow the left hand path”

Ron and Harry remained silent.

“She’s got serious self-esteeme issues”, Hermione said, “and, if Snape is just using her, that would only hurt her further”.

“That bastard”, said Ron as if Snape had just published a first page add in the Daily Prophet announcing he was merely playing with Fiddler’s feelings.
Hermione eyed him angrily.

“Will you get over it already?”

“What?! I was just saying¯ It’s not THAT! I like her, but she’s like a big sister to me…”

“Ah ha.”

“Believe whatever you want”, Ron said dignified. “But I¯”

The door sprang open and Fiddler burst in.

“Hiya, Kids”, she greeted. “We just had a celestial discharge”.

They stared at her in utter nonplussement.

“A what?”

“A patient died”, Fiddler clarified. “And I am pretty sure it was the potion. I just issued him into an empty cubicle, you’d better follow me”.

The kids got to their feet and followed her into the small compartment with a metallic stretcher in wich a sheet-covered body lay.

“Does it look disgusting?”, Ron asked, a little green in the face.

“Mmm, not really”, Fiddler said. “But then again, I am used to it”.

She uncovered the corpse and Hermione sucked in a deep breath.

“It must have been painful”, Harry said softly, watching the dead man’s facial expression.

“It was”, Fiddler agreed. “Now, does he look familiar?”

The kids peered closely and shook their heads.

“Not really…”

“Hang on”, Hermione said excitedly. “Yes, it’s him, I am almost sure of it! If I only had the picture…”

“Him who?”

“Owen Donovan, that Unspeakable Fudge sacked months ago, remember?”

“Really?”, Ron frowned.

“I am ninety-percent sure”, Hermione said smugly.

“But that doesn’t make any sense”, Harry said. “If Fudge had sacked him, there’s no reason for the Death Eaters to get a hold of him!”

“Well, no… Unless they used him as a lab rat?”, Fiddler suggested.

“A what?”

“Well, that does make sense, I mean, apparently, this potion was originally brewed to ensure Voldemort’s immortality when he first heard of the proph¯”

“WHAT?”, the three of them wailed in unison.

Fiddler looked at them, and suddenly realised they didn’t know (thank God), the true facts that had led Severus to desert Voldemort’s ranks.

“Um¯ Severus told me he recalled some ingredients from some potion certain Death Eater brewed for Voldemort when he first heard of the prophecy regarding your birth, Harry; but apparently, the use of prunus dulcis is a new addition and we were wondering how come they’re using a lethal poison in a draught that is meant to ensure survival”.

Hermione’s eyes beamed with interest.

“So that’s why you performed the autopsy on that other wizard!”

“Well, we didn’t know he was a wizard. I merely wanted to make sure he had died due to that particular poison”.

“And? Did he?”

“Clinically, I am damn sure. But I still haven’t got the pathology results. It shouldn’t take too long now… Anyhow, I asked for some specific genetic tests to find out whatever happened to mytochondrial metabolism since that’s what cyanide impairs, and we shall do the same with this fellow here. “Considering he’s probably a wizard as well, but umarked by Voldemort, it will be interesting enough to see whether there’s any difference between their cells or not. Besides, Dumbledore will take a look as well. And here’s where you’ll help me”.

Ron and Harry were a bit confused, but Hermione looked as if she had died and gone to Heaven.

They started they methodic work, collecting samples every now and then, as Fiddler cut the dead man’s body open with the same skillful detachment that had mesmerized Severus. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched her silently as she weighed organs, cut samples, stoppered them, labelled them, and listened to her extended explanations about the man’s anatomy and the pathophysiology of his cause of death. Hermione surely was thrilled, and she even got to perform a few stitches on the body once they’d finished, under Fiddler’s tutelage.

“No questions asked, I am going to be a Healer”, she said, once back in the Lounge, fourty-five minutes later.

“Oh, I am sure Muggle Medicine is different than Magical”, said Fiddler.

“Imagine doing both? You could do it”, the younger girl said, and there was the slighest hint of envy in her voice.

Fiddler shook her hand dismissively and said:

“No, I don’t think so”.

“You don’t?”, Hermione seemed miffed.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going back with us once this mess is over?”, Ron asked.

“Um… no”, Fiddler said. “My life’s in here… There’s nothing for me on the other side of Platform nine-and-three-quarters”.

“But surely¯”, Harry stammered.

He liked Fiddler. His deep longing for a stable, loving family had been shattered more times than he could count, and ever since living in Elvenpath, he had quickly grown used to think of Fiddler as the sister he’d never had, but would have surely liked to. She was fun to be with and she seem to care about him a lot, and not in the fussing way that was Mrs. Weasley’s brand.
Those facts, he mused, were more than enough for not wanting her to go away.

“What about Snape!?”, Ron raged before he could think better of it.

Fiddler laughed.

“What about him? Come on, we’re not engaged to be married… We’re not even properly d-dating”, she stumbled slightly on the word, and Harry thought absently she wasn’t the only one that found it ridiculous if applied to Severus Snape.

“Is it just sex then?”, Harry asked.

“Apparently”, Fiddler replied quietly, but there was something more to her tone than met the ear.

In that very moment the door opened silently and an old-looking man wearing a creased white coat walked in, holding a yellow envelope in his knobby hand.

“I didn’t find you in the ER, so I thought you’d be here”, he handed out the envelope to Fiddler. “The autopsy report”.

“Oh, thank you, Doctor Lavery”, Fiddler said. “Is this the original?

“It is”.

“Well, then I’ll put it on the chart; I’ll get my own copy”.

“That would be a nice idea, only don’t let Ambrose get wind of it”.

“No, I won’t”.

Lavery nodded silently and walked back to the door, staring at Harry intently. He shifted uncomfortably. Why did everyone stare at him?

“Is he your brother?”, Lavery asked Fiddler.

“No…”, she smiled. “He’s a good friend of mine. Doctor Lavery, this is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley”.

For once, someone didn’t fret at the sound of Harry’s name. Lavery simply shook hands with them, and said:

“Well, you do look alike”.

Harry blushed and eyed Fiddler. That statement had lifted his spirits, Merlin knew why.

“It’s the hair”, Lavery continued, “The spectacles… and the eyes, of course, although yours have a hint of blue his don’t”.

“We haven’t noticed before, but not that you mention it…”

Lavery smiled.

“Yes well. I must get going, lots of reports to do”.

“Oh, doctor Lavery! I just finished another one. He died around an hour ago. I sent the samples to the lab… Will you mind running the same tests on them again?”

“Looking for something in particular?”

“Altered mytochondrial metabolism, possible congenital errors or overproduction of certain enzymes. Not sure yet. But whatever it is, it enhances cellular breathing instead of impairing it”.

Lavery’s jaw dropped.

“That’s on the report in your hand”, he stuttered. “It is precissely what I found. How did you know?”

“Guessed. So what was it?”

“The three you mentioned. The full technicisms are in there, but basically there seems to be a mutation on that man’s cells that reacted to Cyanide by increasing cellular breathing”.

“So how come he died?”, Fiddler asked, puzzled.

“Pulmonary Oedema”, Lavery stated simply. “He presented bronchoaspiration”.

“What?!? But I didn’t¯ The lungs weren’t¯”

“Right, they weren’t. It was a microscopic thing. Apparently some sort of oily substance… It was acute chemical pneumonitis”.

“That’s unbelievable… If it hadn’t been for that, he wouldn’t have died…”

“Probably not”.

“Run the tests on the other one, Doctor, please. And take a good look on the lungs”.

“Where’s the body?”

“In cubicle 2. It’s already B&T, I am told”.

“I’ll have it discharged downstairs”.

“Thanks”.

With a final nod, Doctor Lavery left the lounge, and Fiddler was faced with three flabbergasted-looking teenagers that were demanding for explanations.

“Why do you doctors speak in other language?”, Ron asked. “Can’t you speak proper Queen’s English!?”

Fiddler laughed.

“Sorry, we’re used to it”.

“So what was all that about?”

“Well, apparently the other wizard, the Death Eather, was forced to drink the potion, but it didn’t kill him. Some of the liquid went through the wrong pipe and he got some fluid in his lungs… An oily substance that conditioned an inflammatory reaction in them… He virtually drowned, sort of speaking”.

“He Ate Death all right”, Ron said. “Now I get it… Couldn’t you have said it that way in the first place?”

“Shut it, Ron”, Harry said. “Fiddler, the potion enhanced his breathing, or something, you said?”.
“His cellular breathing. We have many complex cellular metabolisms I won’t go into right now, but suffice it to say that the specific metabolic way Cyanide blocks didn’t happen in this bloke. On the contrary, it enhanced it, so his cells wouldn’t release certain toxic substances we know as free radicals, which, amongst other things, are related to aging and apoptosis”.

“What?”

“Programmed cell death”.

“OK, I won’t dig in further”, Harry shrugged.

“So what you’re saying is that something, probably the fact that he had been marked by Voldemort, made him react like that to the potion?”, Hermione said, carefully.

“I am almost certain of it. But then again, we’ll wait for the results of the samples we just collected today. Then we’ll know for sure”.

They got home around ten o’clock in the evening and Molly was waiting for them with a light meal. Tonks had returned from duty and Moody and Lupin had decided to join them as well, so Fiddler shared the evening account with them, feeling a little awkward when they praised her brains.
She wasn’t used to compliments.

They argued until late about what should be done, and as they didn’t actually solve anything, Moody said he’d let Dumbledore know using one of his Auror stealthy equipments to send codified letters and they all went to bed, not even one of them noticing Snape had been nowhere to be seen.

Not one of them, but Fiddler.
She climbed upstairs pretending she wasn’t worried, but of course, as her mind told her, she was full of it.


A/N

Bagged and Tagged (B&T), body ready for dispatch to morgue, medical slang.

TBC, please R & R!!!!!

Thanx a lot to my kind beta Ian for his BRILLIANT thoughts!!!


Disclaimer: All characters and HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the ones you don’t recognize. The plot as well is mine and solely mine!! No profit is being made!!!!