The Moon Has Spoken

Fiddler was in the Hospital’s parking lot, feeling rather queasy and exhausted after a trying ship at the ER. She was thinking of nothing in particular as she stuffed her things carelessly into the van, and she only registered with half her brain the stifled moans and urgent whisperat cat came from somewhere to her left. She raised her head to listen more carefully, because for a minute there, the female’s voice had sounded oddly like Anna’s.
Fiddler rolled her eyes, wondering if Anna would ever change, and knowing better. She turned off the Van’s alarm and hauled her right foot to climb inside when a rather pained grunt made her stop in midmotion. She hesitated for half a second. From previous chats with her, Fiddler was aware Anna liked it rough; hence she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t interrupt ‘something’ if she walked by to ask Anna if she was all right. Then again, the thought of the stalking stranger she’d mentioned floated on the back of Fiddler’s mind, and at long last, her medical instinct won, so she shut the Van door as quietly as she could, and tiptoed towards the trunk, to retrieve the Smith & Wesson her adoptive dad used to carry along, and that she’d never bothered to remove from the car since he died. She checked it and made sure it was loaded, even as her mind was yelling her to put the gun down and get the heck out of there, and then turned the alarm back on using the mute button on her remote, as she strode stealthily towards the assumed origin of the sound.

“Let—Go—Of—”, Anna was gagging, trying her best to breathe through the tight grip a air of gloved hands had on her neck.

“Let go of her”, Fiddler heard her own voice and barely recognized it. “I won’t say it twice. I am armed”.

She held the S&W more firmly with both hands as the strangling man turned to look at her. His face was enty coy covered by a mask, but Fiddler recognized those cold, pale eyes at once. And he knew she had, from the way she took a step backwards for support and aimed at him challengily.

“Release her”.

He was fast as lightning. He produced his wand from somewhere inside his heavy black cloak and raised it, pointing at Fiddler. She held his gaze and didn’t falter, although she was trembling inside.

Oh, that was BRILLIANT of you, Fiddler, really.

“Fiddler—”, Anna choked out. “Fiddler— It’s him, the—”

But she never got to finish the sentence. Footsteps and people talking could be heard coming out of the elevator, and Malfoy di hes hesitate. He cast one last hateful glance at Fiddler and she knew at once that a mightier force was preventing him from harming her. She let out an involuntary, relieved breath…
And two seconds later, a blinding flash of green light rose in the dark parking lot, and when Fiddler could see again, Malfoy was long gone, and Anna was lying on the wet, dirty floor, by her car, limp as a discarded cloth… With the paleness of death already creeping over her.

Fiddler hadthinthink fast. The elevator crowd would reach them in no time, and she was, to say the least, in a rather compromising position, with a gun in her hands, aiming at no one and with a corpse on the floor. She saved the distance to her own car in three long strides and put the gun safely out of sight inside the trunk. She closed it hastily and walked back to where Anna lay. She crouched by her side and tried to find out who was approaching.

“Hey, Jerry!” she called a minute later, as she would have addressed him at the ER. “Come here for a sec, will you? I think Anna’s not feeling well”.

The resident nodded swiftly and sprinted towards his superior. He kneeled by Anna’s other side and felt for a pulse.
He blanched.

“Doctor Greene”, he whispered. “She’s—”

“I know she is”, Fiddler replied curtly. “But of course, you didn’t expect me to yell it at the four winds, did you?”

“No… no.”.

“Good. Help me out, will you? We need to issue her back into the hospital”.

For half a second, Jerry was in the verge of asking what good would that was the use of it then, but Fiddler gave him such a withering look that he mumbled instead:

“I’ll get the orderlies”.

Once Anna Willoughby was properly pronounced, bagged and tagged, Fiddler was finally able to sneak her into an autopsy room and begin with the procedure. She didn’t want to put a delay on it in case time would issue modifications on the corpse, thus obscuring the real cause of death, so she simply called home and let Arthur know what had happened and asked him to tell Severus she’d be late. She didn’t mention her stupid heroin delusions for she knew (and she was right), that Severus would freak.
Fiddler walked towards the autopsy table and felt a sudden surge of nausea. It passed quickly enough and she set to work, trying not to think it was her jolly redhead friend she was currently cutting open.

Time went by unnoticed and Fiddler grew more frustrated by the minute.
Nothing seemed to be wrong with Anna, and Fiddler’s Irish stubbornness was incensed. Of course there had to be something abnormal! One just didn’t drop dead without even the slightest damage to at least one vital organ!

But there seemed to be none.
She even had Mulligan from the Nuclear department to come down and run some specific tests on a slice of Anna’s brain, to no results whatsoever. No mysterious poisons, no altered neurotransmitters, not even some bloody coke she could blame it upon, but Fiddler wasn’t about to give up. She dissected Anna’s digestive tract and found nothing more interesting than a half digested contraceptive pill. She went further down and realized with something akin to shock that Anna had uterus didelphus, two sets of Fallopian tubes and rather hypertrophic ovaries. Fiddler wondered if that’d explain Anna’s horny nature, and decided she was better off not knowing.
She seized Anna’s gallbladder only to throw it aside in a fit of crankiness, as she didn’t find anything of interest. She chopped the liver and splein to tiny pieces and considered making a stew with them, but nausea clutched her once more and she told herself off for her cruelty and stupidity, both of them enhanced by lack of glucose.
But suddenly all thoughts were pushed aside as Fiddler reached Anna’s heart.

“Bingo”.

She turned on the tape recorder and began to speak.

“The subject’s cardiac muscle is big and soft, heavy with static blood. Aortic and Pulmonary valves are shut, but both left and right atrioventricular valves are not, thus suggesting diastolic arrest. On a closer examination—”, Fiddler held the heart against the light, “the four cardiac chambers are dilated, and it certainly does not appear to be a chronic condition. No fibrosis is observed, and…” she cut the heart open, “There are clots in both atriums, but no evidence whatsoever of pulmonary thromboembolism”.

She went silent for a minute, lost in thoughts, weighing possibilities, and at last, there was light.

“WILSON!” she voiced.

A dark haired man poked his head through the door.

“You called?”

“Yeah, I did. Will you measure her serum potassium levels for me?” Fiddler said, pointing at Anna.

Wilson shrugged and eyed Fiddler pensively.

“For Heaven’s sake, Fiddler, it’s Anna… I can’t—”

“Fine, then! Give me the needle” Fiddler sighed. “I’ll collect it for you”.

And so she did, handing the sample back to Wilson a few minutes later.

“I need the results yesterday”, she said, and she meant it. “I’ll be waiting”.

Wilson nodded stiffly and only returned when he made sure Anna was properly stitched and covered.

“Well?” Fiddler prompted.

“Hyperkalemia”.

Fiddler nodded as though she was expecting that answer.

“How much?”

“15”.

“Holy mother of God!” she almost wailed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Double-checked it. But… Why, though? Did she have renal insufficiency?” it was the only condition he could think of that could produce such an alteration.

“Not that I knew of”, said Fiddler.

“Then… what was it? Was she on drugs?”

“No, I checked. No, Wilson… I think it was rhabdomyolisis”.

“Uh?”

“It’s a disorder that causes muscle cells to b dow down and release a harmful byproduct which is called myoglobin into the bloodstream. Myoglobin, in excessive concentrations, can lead to kidney failure and death. And, amongst other things, it causes massive hyperkalemia”.

“Ahh! And what causes it?”

“A number of things, actually… But in Anna’s case, it might have been myoglobinuria or another strange genetic syndrome”, lied Fiddler. “Oh, well. May she rest in peace”.

And she left the lab clutching the tape recorder and Anna’s potassium levels in her hand.

~§~§~§~

“Are you INSANE?” Severus bellowed, his hands trembling. He could not believe thel ofl of Fiddler. “You— You— Lucius Malfoy is dangerous, Fiddler, how could you just point a gun at him?”

He fell onto the nearest chair and eyed her angrily. He was worried to death about her, and at the same time, utterly relieved to see her back home, with not so much as a scratch on her pale skin. It reminded him forcibly of Potter and his accursed habit of surviving things no others would or should have.

“What did you expect?” Fiddler asked, matching his tone. “That I’d just walk away and let him do his will?”

Severus didn’t answer, but it was obvious that was exactly what he would have expected.

“I hate to say it, Fidd”, Harry said, “But Sn— Professor Snape is right. You just can go about challenging Death Eaters, you’ll meet a sticky end”.

“Look who’s talking”, said Ron grimly and they laughed despite themselves.

“The point is, nothing happened”, Fiddler said dismissively, “and, I was able to find—” she stopped because she sensed Severus was about to say something, but apparently he gave it a second thought for he remained silent, so she carried on. “I know now what happens when the Killing curse is cast— Massive hyperkalemia”.

Everyone stared at her, obviously nonplussed.

“Uh?” Ron said at last.

“Hyperkalemia… Well, we won’t go into a full lesson of body electrolytes just now, but this particular condition occurs when the level of potassium in the bloodstream is higher than normal”.

“And what’s wrong with that?”, insisted Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, as Fiddler carried on.

“Hyperkalemia can have serious, potentially life-threatening effects on the body. A gradual increase in potassium, as may occur with chronic renal failure, may be better tolerated than a sudden increase, which usually causes death without further notice”.

“Ah”.

“High serum potassium usually causes nausea, progressive weakness, irregular heartbeat that quickly evolves into bradycardia, complete heart block, ventricular fibrillation and diastolic arrest”.

“I didn’t understand a word you just said”, Harry said ruefully, “but it sounds threatening enough”.

The twins laughed.

“I’m sorry”, Fiddler apologized. “I am used to talk like that. What I meant to say was that hyperkalemia causes the heart to stop in diast whi which is when the cardiac chambers are relaxed since they’re getting blood that will soon be expelled through the aorta into the body”.

“But all those changes are only visible whilst the person is still alive, aren’t they?”, Hermione asked, seeing where Fiddler was heading, “which means…”

“That once the person’s dead, he’s unmarked, apparently undamaged… Just like someone hit by the Killing Curse”, Harry finished quietly.

“And it is quite hard to detect as well”, Fiddler said. “Mainly because the patient’s blood clots shortly after death, makin it almost impossible to collect a sample… And even more because, in the final stages of agony, no matter what brought it to happen, copious amounts of potassium are realeased into the bloodstream due to cellular anoxia… It is a good way of murdering someone… It’ll go undetected unless you search for it specifically”.

“As you did”.

“Yes. It was her heart that put me in the right track, actually… Diastolic arrest… It’s just typical”.

“And? Is there a whay of lowering potassium levels?”, asked Tonks, voicing what they were all thinking.

“We usually see this condition in patients with chronic renal failure”, said Fiddler. “So we usually lower their potassium levels either by peritoneal dialysis or even hemodialysis”.

“Sounds nasty”, said Ron.

“It is”, Fiddler agreed, “and of course, not useful for our current situatiohat hat we need is something that will prevent potassium from escaping the cells, or even something that will put it back inside if it gets out. What we call anti-hyperkalemia measures”.

“Which are?”, asked Severus, sensing they were approaching a field he could actually understand.

“Well… we normally use Insulin injections are used to treat hyperkalemia in emergency situations. Insulin is a hormone well known for its ability to stimulate the entry of sugar into cells, which also happens to carry potassium with it, tdecrdecreasing its concentration in the blood… We also use calcium gluconate, Bicarbonate and either Albuterol or Salbutamol… they’ve proven to be effective in some cases. We mix all that into an intravenous solution and it takes from ten to thirty min to to begin its action, which lasts for approximately six hours. As for non-emergency situations, the patient can be given a special resin to bind potassium ions. One such resin, sodium polystyrene sulfonate, best known as Kayexalate, remains in the intestines, where it absorbs potassium and forms a complex of resin and potassium. But, the correctif hyf hyperkalemia with resin treatment takes at least 24 hours.”

Severus nodded, although all the Muggle medications she’d mentioned had left him nonplussed to say the least.

“You said intravenous, didn’t you?” Pointed out Fred.

“Well, somehow I can’t picture Harry facing Voldemort with a tripod and an IV line on tow”, George added, much to everyone else’s mirth.

“You’re right, George”, Fiddler said, “and here’s when we use magic. You see, I was thinking we should make that anti-hyperkalemia solution drinkable, turn it into a magical potion that will be effective against a curse which can be cast at will. So that’s the story… and what we must do”.


And they certainly did, only it wasn’t as easy as it had sounded.
They tried different amounts of the Muggle medications Fiddler got from the hospital, mixed them in sorbitol and dextrose at 5%, only to find out they were either insufficient or otherwise inactivated by gastric enzymes or intestinal bugs; they added the resin with the funny name and Ron got his brows turned blue; they started from scratch again and put the Kayexalate first of all, and the cauldron melted. Nearly in the verge of hysteria, they did it all over again, and tried mixing it with the Eternus Vita Potion Severus had brewed, only to set half of Fiddler’s kitchen on fire. Severus was ready to jump out of the windoen Men Mulligan made and overemotional phone call to let Fiddler know he’d f the the chromosomal abnormality, which permitted Death Eaters to survive Cyanide.

“It wasn’t hard to find once I thought of it”, Mulligan confessed. “It is a mutation that resembles the one seen in Tay-Sachs Disease, even the same chromosome involved, number 15. Only this one doesn’t affect polypeptide alpha, but â–2. It’s rather new and a wonderful overovery, modesty aside…
“Anywahis his will sound absurd to you, Nazi, but apparently people affected by this mutatsimpsimply seem to have developed and alternate way of mytochondrial breathing, which is why cyanide won’t affect them… There’s simply nothing it can block. Does that make any sense?”

“It does”, said Fiddler, eyeing Severus from her spot on the lounge. “Thanks a lot, Mulligan, I owe you more than I can tell you”.

“Hey, don’t thank me, just be sure to mention me in your research”, Mulligan replied eagerly.

“Will do”, said Fiddler, feeling a sudden pang of guilt at Mulligan’s hopeful voice.

But it didn’t last long.
She approached Severus and informed him of the lt net news, letting him know as well that she’d need a sample of his blood to add it to the boiling mess Hermione and Moody were currently concocting for the umpteenth time. Everyone gathered round to watch as Fiddler extracted enough blood to fill a small bagm Sem Severus’ Dark-marked arm, and Harry rejoiced inwardly as he saw his former Potions Master pale and tilt to one side, threatening to faint on them, joy that was quickly replaced by shock and disbelief when he witnessed Fiddler run back swi to to hold him and prevent him from falling.
She led him to the nearest couch, laid him down and propped his feet on a bunch of pillows. She then made him drink a sweetened beverage and instructed him to stay there while she added the blood to the cauldron before it clotted and became useless.
The simmering potion hissed in a very satisfactory way, telling everybody in the room that they were finally on the good path. Now, all that remained, it seemed, was to send Dumbledore the potion so he could instill his own magic in it, and Fawkes, it turned out, was more than willing to do the task.

~§~
That night, after making love, Severus lay flat on his back, his heart still drumming in his ears. The ever-present CD player filled their room with one of Fiddler’s bloodcurdling melodies, and Severus held a sleeping Fiddler tight against hiest est when he heard a particular paragraph that crept up his spine.

Forgive me, for I don\'t know what I gain
Alone in this garden of pain
Enchantment has but one truth:
I weep to have what I fear to lose.

True enough, he feared he’d lose her, sooner or later, and he almost laughed at this new sense of foreboding. No one in the Snape Family had been a Seer. He sighed and kissed Fiddler’s brilliant head softly, thinking that, indeed, thanks to her and her stubbornness, it seemed like a tangible, effective weapon against Voldemort was finally drawing nearer.
And it hadn’t come out of the Department of Mysteries.