Star Sisters

Chapter XXIX: Potions and Pestering

Morgana had to admit she was more than curious as to why Charis had been chosen to escort Lucius on his inspection of Hogwarts. She also wondered if it was a good idea. Lucius had told Morgana in one of his letters that he had requested to have her as his guide, and he had been furious when he had been informed by Dumbledore that he was getting someone else. Lucius had – of course – chosen his words well in his second letter to Morgana, saying that he was utterly disappointed not to be able to spend time with the mother of his child. And he had once more professed his love for her and promised that he would do everything in his power to be able to slink away from his guide during the evening and go looking for his young belle.

Sitting at the Slytherin table now, Morgana had mixed feelings. Somehow, she was glad that she had not been chosen to be Lucius’ guide. She did not trust herself around him. She knew so well who he was: a Death Eater, a philanderer, evil incarnate. Everyone had been warning her about him: Charis, Dumbledore, Snape ... especially Snape. Morgana knew that they were right, and still she found herself hopelessly falling for the blond wizard. What a feeling it must be to stride through the Great Hall at Lucius’ side for everyone to see. And for a moment, Morgana envied Charis. But when she saw the expression on Draco’s face turn from shock to disgust, she started to feel worried for her Ravenclaw friend. What, by Hades, had Dumbledore been thinking letting Lucius Malfoy be escorted by a Muggle-born, someone who in Malfoy’s eyes was a mere Mudblood?

Draco was bound to have told Daddy all about the filth at Hogwarts, and Charis had got him into trouble enough for him to hold a grudge. And as much as Lucius was always sweet with her, Morgana knew he had a fierce temper with those who got on his bad side. But there was nothing she could do except hope that Charis would use all of her Ravenclaw brain and make sure that she did not give Lucius any more reason to be angry with her.

She was still mulling over Dumbledore’s choice of representative when she found herself outside Snape’s classroom door once more for her usual Tuesday evening Potions class. Any other student would rather eat slugs than spend their free evenings with the dour Potions master, but Morgana felt differently. Her constant contact with Snape was about the only positive she had to cling to through this whole confusing and demanding pregnancy business, and she found herself looking forward to their Tuesday lessons more and more as time went on. She and her Head of House had built up a respectful relationship with each passing week, and Morgana had discovered that, when faced with a student who was as eager to learn as she was, Snape lost all traces of his sniping and unhelpful manner and was actually a talented and engaging teacher.

Morgana enjoyed Snape’s instruction as well as the peacefulness of the quiet dungeon and just watching him create potions from scratch. He really was a master in his field, and his mere presence made her feel safe and secure. To her surprise, Snape had gone from being an object of sexual desire to some kind of companion. She could not say a friend, but she trusted him, and she had seen him protect her so many times that he was the closest thing to a father figure that she had ever had.

She checked her watch quickly before knocking on the door. There was one minute to spare. Morgana was always careful to be early, but she did not want to annoy Snape by being too early.

‘Enter,’ he growled in his rich, smooth baritone.

Morgana entered his study, clutching her side and wincing as a sudden sting appeared on the right side of her abdomen. ‘Good evening professor,’ she managed through gritted teeth.

‘Good evening, Miss Belakane,’ Snape replied, looking quizzically at the girl. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No, sir,’ Morgana replied hastily. ‘Just a stitch, I suppose.’ The last thing she wanted was to disrupt her precious time with her Head of House. But the pain was sharp, and she took her usual place on the stool behind the enchanted glass panel carefully, trying not to grimace.

Snape, thankfully, did not pursue the issue but started the lesson immediately. ‘As you remember, our Wolfsbane potion was left to bathe in the light of the waxing moon for a whole fortnight. As it absorbed the rays, the hue changed from grey to milky white, thus.’

He showed the cauldron to Morgana, who craned her neck to see better, nodding. The potion indeed glowed eerily, like the moon itself.

‘The second half of the brewing is much more complex,’ Snape continued. ‘It involves a mixture of wand work as well as impeccable timing.’

He swept around the desk and placed the cauldron back on the stand, turning to face Morgana whilst folding his arms across his chest.

‘You will recall we added powdered aconite initially to the potion. Aconite is the principal ingredient in Wolfsbane, but it requires a balance. Just powdered aconite renders the potion too weak, yet freshly chopped aconite can make the potion unreliable.’

Once more, there was a flash of pain in Morgana’s side, and she only managed to suppress a gasp because she was biting her tongue. She had no time for yet another joyful side effect of pregnancy. So she decided to ignore the ache as best as she could and focused instead on Snape’s words.

‘Years of my own experimentation have proved that a mixture of both powdered aconite and fresh root yields the best results,’ he continued. ‘The ratio should be around sixty to forty, in favour of the root.’

Morgana was fascinated as she watched her teacher begin to lay out his chopping board, knife, brass scales and ingredients methodically. She knew she was working with a genius and wondered idly if Snape had ever cooked, a silly thought of him appearing with a tray of freshly-baked muffins suddenly popping into her mind.

‘May I ask a question, sir?’ she asked, pulling her mind back to the lesson.

Snape merely inclined his head and raised an eyebrow for Morgana to go on.

’Does the ratio have anything to do with who the potion is made for?’

‘That's an interesting question,’ he replied with a quirk of the mouth. One of the reasons he enjoyed instructing Morgana was because she asked intelligent questions and genuinely paid attention. Teaching her never felt like a chore, and if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he looked forward to spending time with her. At least while she was in the dungeons with him, she wouldn’t be with that philandering, smug, despicable man.

‘In my experience, no. But with potions, there is always an element of risk that the receiver may react badly to its administration. Which makes brewing them to strict instructions all the more important.’

‘React badly, sir? What is the worst that can happen with this potion, apart from the transformation?’ Morgana’s brow furrowed, and once again Snape’s mouth quirked.

‘If the potion is too weak, of course it will not work, and the lycanthrope will still transform.’

‘And if it is too strong?’

‘Let’s put it this way. Just chopped root of aconite alone makes the potion unstable. It may make the lycanthrope change at any given moment, for any given amount of time. It may work for a short time, but does not have consistent results. It therefore makes the potion unreliable.’

Morgana nodded keenly, watching as Snape picked up the little silver knife in his left hand and began finely slicing the root. His movements were deft and precise, and once more she wondered if his skills transferred to the kitchen.

‘One of the reasons this potion is so difficult to brew is due to getting the balance of aconite right,’ Snape continued as he sliced.

Morgana looked longingly at the knife. She would so love to do something with her hands. She missed the practical nature of potion making, and although watching Snape and being taught by him personally was an honour and a delight, she would have given her last Knut to have been able to make the potion alongside him.

‘The potion must now be put on the lowest flame. Too much heat will evaporate the moon's rays,’ Snape said as he lit the flame under the cauldron with a sweep of his hand. Morgana was quietly impressed at the use of wandless magic.

He delicately sprinkled in the chopped root whilst stirring the potion, and Morgana leaned in to see better. Snape appeared to be alternating directions between stirs.

‘This complex stirring reflects the waxing and waning of the moon,’ he told the girl once he was done.

Steam began to rise from the cauldron now. Snape ran his long fingers though it like a musician with an instrument, almost reading the vapours. Then the potion began to glow brightly, like the moon itself. And the steam turned into a kind of whitish smoke.

‘And this is how you know your potion is done,’ Snape murmured, still running his hands through the clouds. ‘Do you have any questions, Miss Belakane?’

Morgana blinked and looked up at her formidable Head of House. Why he was wasting his talents teaching dunderheads when his own encyclopaedic knowledge of potions surely made him the best Potioneer in the country, she did not know. But she was grateful to have him here at Hogwarts, and at this moment in time, she was grateful to be sat in front of him.

’How long can the potion be stored, sir?’ she asked, shifting on her stool.

’Another good question. The potion requires careful storage, in the cool and the dark, as sunlight negates the effects. Thick glass works well, so does heavy pottery. Metal is not recommended as it reacts with the aconite. The potion can be safely stored for up to three months, after which time the potion becomes unstable.’

‘How much does the lycanthrope need to drink?’ she asked as Snape tidied away his equipment with a lazy flick of his wand.

‘The lycanthrope will usually need one vial every day for three days leading up to and including the day of the full moon.’

‘Usually?’

Snape raised a characteristic eyebrow. ‘The dose can be adjusted according to the size of the person. Some lycanthropes are bigger than others and therefore need higher doses.’

Especially a shabby coward such as Lupin with a fat arse and an addiction to chocolate, he thought to himself.

‘So, the Wolfsbane is complete. And once I have siphoned off the potion into vials I will then show you how to make a very useful antidote.’

Morgana smiled to herself as she scribbled down some notes. Double Potions! What a treat! And if she were honest, staying down in the dungeons with Professor Snape for another two or three hours was exactly what she wanted to do that evening. The alternative was to go to her dormitory, get changed and then go to see Lucius. And for some reason, which Morgana could not quite put her finger on, seeing Lucius Malfoy was about the last thing she wanted to do.

* * *

Meanwhile, up in Ravenclaw Tower, Charis and Jack were still in shock after Malfoy had left them with his thinly-veiled threat. At first, they had just stared at the door he had slammed shut behind him, mouths open and puzzled looks of their faces. Then they had started verbally abuse him, during which Jack had managed to come up with countless combination of words like inbred, ferret, and slime ball. It had made them laugh, but still, the tension lingered.

‘He knows we’re on to something,’ Jack said suspiciously as they sat in their favourite nook by the window.

‘Oh, Jack, now you’re just being paranoid,’ Charis said with exasperation as she plucked absently at one of the soft cushions. ‘We’re not on to anything.’

However, Lucius’ threat had shaken her, even though she was pretty sure it was just Muggle-baiting on his part. He had been sending sniping comments her way all evening. For all she knew, it was Malfoy’s way of saying ‘Dream on, Mudblood’.

‘I’m serious, Charis!’ Jack replied, leaning forwards in his seat. ‘Why is he so intent on stopping us? If he thinks you’re just a plain old Muggle-born, what is he scared of us finding out with our research?’

Charis sighed and looked up at her House mate. ‘I don’t know. He hates anything that associates wizards with Muggles. Just the suggestion of genetic theory made gave him a bad taste in the mouth.’

‘No, it has to be more than that, Charis,’ Jack insisted. ‘We’re just a couple of kids trying to find out who your grandparents and great-parents were. Why is that such a threat to Malfoy?’ His eyes widened. ‘Maybe he knows something we don’t.’

Charis felt her stomach swoop. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying,’ Jack said in a conspiratorial tone, his eyes glittering in excitement, ‘that I am convinced that you have a huge secret in your family, a secret that Malfoy is obviously scared of us finding out!’

Charis’ mouth fell open. ‘You don’t think ... Jack, you don’t think I could be related to Lucius Malfoy, do you?’ The very thought was making her heart race. Surely, it was not possible?

‘Who knows? But whoever you’re related to, it’s big enough to threaten the oh-so-great Lucius Malfoy and his bollocks Pureblood nonsense.’

Jack was looking intensely at her now, and Charis caught sight of the tell-tale glimmer in his eyes that told her he had an idea and he was going to see it through to fruition.

‘Come on, we need to go to the library right now.’ Jack was already halfway to the door. ‘We’ll stay all night if we have to. We need some answers.’

Charis took a deep breath and closed her eyes. If what Jack was saying was true, it would rock the foundations of everything she thought she knew about herself and her place in this Wizarding world. She had always – with a few exceptions – been proud to be a Muggle-born. What if she wasn’t? What if there had been a witch or wizard in the family? What if that witch or wizard had been a Malfoy? Charis shuddered. The thought of finding out she was related to Lucius Malfoy suddenly made her feel physically sick. Really, this could not be!

Still, she and Jack were soon sneaking furtively down the corridors that led to the library, constantly on the look-out for any sign of the blond wizard or any of the other governors. Thankfully, the coast was clear, and soon they were huddled together at the back of the library, away from Madam Pince’s prying eyes, sorting through a stack of parchments and records.

‘You check the marriage certificates, I’ll check the birth certificates,’ Jack told Charis as they began the tedious work of sifting through the various documents. And Charis did as she was told, although the knot in her stomach was making her nauseous.

Over two hours later, they had skimmed through all the available records. They didn’t find anything new, as they had been through most of those papers before. But something didn’t make sense. As hard as they were looking, there was not one trace of Charis’ grandmother.

‘This is really suspicious, Charis,’ Jack opined as they sifted through the papers a second time, just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything. ‘There’s nothing here, from either Muggle records or Wizarding.’

Charis stretched, feeling stiff. Her eyes felt tired from the close work of cross-referencing. ‘Dad said Gran came from London. That’s a pretty big place, Jack,’ she joked.

‘Yes, but Callista Byrne isn’t the kind of name you hear every day, is it?’ Jack pointed out. ‘There should have been a marriage certificate here at least.’

‘So what now?’ Charis asked, rubbing her tired eyes. Maybe, Jack had been too excited after all. Maybe, they didn’t find anything because there was simply nothing to be found.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but us not being able to find anything smells decidedly piscine to me,’ Jack answered with a lopsided smile. ‘Next stop for us is to write to the Muggle registrar and to the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Births, Marriages and Deaths to find the birth certificate of your gran. On the certificate will be the name of her parents and therefore another piece to our puzzle.’

Jack was grinning in earnest now. He liked nothing more than a problem to solve, and a little thing like being threatened by one of the most influential wizards and known Voldemort supporter was not going to put him off.

Charis smiled back at him, but secretly she wondered if they were getting in way over their heads. But Jack had certainly piqued her curiosity, and they seemed so close to getting some answers. There was no going back now.

* * *

‘This antidote works on most venoms and bites,’ Snape said imperiously as he walked in front of Morgana once more. ‘Naturally, it is ineffective against Werewolf bites and Basilisk bites, for obvious reasons. It is a staple in most first aid kits and a sister potion of Essence of Dittany. Do you know what this potion is, Miss Belakane?’

Morgana didn’t even have to think twice. She had read most of the available Potions texts from cover to cover, and although she did not know how to brew this particular potion or that much about it, she certainly knew its name.

‘Is it Ceramite, sir?’ she asked politely, not wanting to appear too smug.

Snape smirked. ‘Yes, it is. Five points to Slytherin.’

Morgana could not help but smile as a warm feeling blossomed in her stomach. Everyone knew that Snape favoured his own House, but the points he had just awarded her showed her he valued her interest in his subject, and she felt proud.

‘You will recall from earlier in the year that Dittany requires phoenix tears and is therefore a difficult and expensive potion to brew,’ Snape continued, folding his arms across his chest characteristically. ‘This antidote also requires a part of a magical animal.’

‘Which animal, sir?’ Morgana asked with interest. She knew. She had read it. But she wanted Snape to tell her, wanted to hear his low and soothing voice.

‘It is the unicorn, or should I say most specifically, a shaving from the unicorn’s horn.’

‘Isn't that a rather expensive ingredient as well, sir?’

‘It is indeed both expensive and comparatively rare,’ Snape agreed. ‘In apothecaries, unicorn horns would set you back several Galleons. However, we are lucky in many respects to have unicorns within our own Forest here at Hogwarts. Hagrid lets us have all the shavings we need.’

Morgana smiled as she saw the glitter in Snape’s eyes. She realised that, for a keen Potioneer such as Snape, having a job such as his was the equivalent of a child having the keys to the sweet shop. Hagrid had connections that enabled him to lay hands on any magical creature imaginable, and the Forbidden Forest provided a wide variety of magical herbs and plants. For most potion ingredients, Snape did not even need to leave the school grounds.

‘It is illegal to trade in complete unicorn horns, however. Only shavings can be bought, in accordance with the Use of Magical Creatures in Potions act of 1892,’ Snape informed the girl, who nodded with interest.

‘Sir, does the age of the unicorn matter for the potion?’

Snape quirked an eyebrow. The girl was certainly showing promise to ace her NEWT, and her questions showed awareness of the importance of ingredients as well as the making of the potions themselves. ‘Interesting question, Miss Belakane. But to my knowledge, the answer is no.’

Morgana opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a persistent knocking on the door.

Snape scowled. ’What is it?’ he growled with irritation.

The door swung open, and there in the doorway stood the elegant and dashing figure of Lucius Malfoy in dove grey robes, his right hand lazily resting on the snake head of his cane.

‘Good evening, Severus,’ the blond wizard drawled, before catching sight of Morgana. ‘Oh, Miss Belakane!’ He feigned surprise and flashed a charming smile before turning once again to Snape. ‘Am I interrupting?’

Snape felt his jaw tighten. The inbred twit knew exactly that he was indeed interrupting. ‘Lucius,’ he said in an indifferent tone so as not to betray his irritation. ‘Can I help you? Miss Belakane is in the middle of instruction.’

‘Oh, instructions. How delightful!’ Malfoy smirked as he walked uninvited into the Potions classroom. ‘You don't mind me watching, do you, Severus? I am, after all, here to inspect the school.’ His grey-blue eyes were glinting, and he was already pulling up a chair behind the enchanted piece of glass. He would not take no for an answer. He was a Malfoy. No one ever told him no.

Snape’s scowl turned a deeper shade of black. He could not argue with Malfoy’s reasoning. Of course, he was there to inspect the school in his official capacity. And Snape knew that he would have to behave like a puppet to entertain the man. But he also knew that Malfoy had another, more personal, motive as well. The blond wizard could not resist seeking out his young lover and rubbing his nose in it at any given opportunity.

‘I would appreciate the minimum amount of interruption,’ Snape hissed through gritted teeth and returned his attention to his cauldron.

‘I am not even here,’ Malfoy replied with a smirk and a flick of his long, platinum hair. He smiled affectionately at Morgana and took hold of her hand to kiss it lovingly. ‘Please do go on, Severus,’ he said generously before casually taking a seat right beside Morgana, watching the Potions master expectantly.

Morgana shifted uncomfortably on her stool. She had noticed Snape’s knuckles whiten as he gripped on to the desk in frustration, and she flinched at both her teacher’s annoyance and Lucius’ uncomfortable display of affection.

Malfoy, meanwhile, seemed totally unaware of the tension his arrival had produced in the room. He was smiling contentedly, and while his right hand was still resting on his cane, his left one was on Morgana’s shoulder, softly massaging it with tiny finger movements. And every time he moved, his thigh was nudging the girl’s buttock. He could not have been any closer to her unless she had been sitting in his lap, which he, of course, would not have minded at all.

Snape breathed deeply through his nose before continuing the lesson. Trust Malfoy to barge into his classroom as if he owned the place and spoil the few hours of teaching he actually enjoyed. But as Malfoy had pointed out so nicely, he was there on official Ministry business, and Snape had to play along.

‘The shavings of unicorn horn need to be ground into fine powder using a pestle and mortar, like so,’ he began, grinding the horn with his pestle and mortar as he had explained, wishing it were Malfoy’s testicles he was pulverising.

Morgana craned her neck to see better. So did Lucius, not to watch Snape, however, but to look at Morgana’s cleavage. Was it just him or were her breasts already becoming riper and even more succulent?

‘You would use one gram for every fifty millilitres of potion,’ Snape continued, transferring the crushed horn from the mortar to the little set of brass scales for measurement. ‘In this instance, I am using four grams.’

‘How big a batch is appropriate to prepare, sir?’ Morgana asked, acutely aware of Lucius’ hand now tracing little circles on her knee. Once more, she shifted her position, but Lucius was persistent.

‘It depends on how much you need,’ Snape replied, measuring the horn swiftly by eye and setting it down on the side. ‘I have prepared huge batches for St Mungos, along with Dittany, as you would expect. However, a two hundred millilitre batch should suffice in any home’s first aid kit.’

‘It can be stored easily, then?’

Lucius’ hand was now travelling further up her leg, and Morgana squirmed uncomfortably. Lucius, however, seemed blissfully unaware at his young belle’s discomfort as his thigh pressed against hers. He was sitting so close now that she could feel his breath on her neck.

‘Just like Dittany,’ Snape replied, ‘Ceramite can be stored in glass, preferably dark glass, and does not perish easily.’

Morgana nodded, scribbling down notes, and Lucius beamed at her proudly. ‘Such a smart little witch,’ he cooed.

Morgana’s eyes shot up at Snape as she heard him give a little huff of annoyance. Sure enough, he was scowling as he flicked his hand to light the flame under the cauldron. It was obvious that Snape was as uncomfortable as she was having Lucius interrupt their lesson time.

Snape was indeed furious. He knew that Malfoy had interrupted the lesson deliberately, and the smug bastard was beginning to test his famous limited patience. Snape hated scrutiny of any kind, even though he had perfect confidence in his own abilities. And what he hated even more was that Lucius was so openly moving in on Morgana. His student, a witch of his House, one of his girls. It had been enough to see him smile oh-so-sweetly at Charis earlier that evening.

Yes, it might be wrong and despicable, but if Snape were honest, he would admit that he felt possessive of both Charis and Morgana. They were his girls. Certainly, he could not love them in the traditional sense of the word. But he could not stop the snakes of jealousy that writhed in his gut whenever another male came too close to either of them. Maybe he was pathetic, but he wanted their attentions all for himself, had done so since the day he had noticed that they were interested in him.

‘A medium flame is needed to bring the water to the boil,’ he continued his instructions, keeping his voice low and steady. ‘Once the water is boiling, reduce the flame and add the unicorn horn.’ He did just this, shaking the powder into the cauldron. ‘This should turn the potion cobalt blue.’

Morgana nodded again, distracted by the feeling of Lucius shifting behind her. He was now standing behind her back, caressing her arms with his fingertips and grinding himself against her back. She wished he would stop.

Snape didn’t miss a thing. He saw Lucius’ not so subtle movements and Morgana looking down in embarrassment. This nonsense would have to stop! ‘Lucius?’ he hissed through gritted teeth.

‘Yes, Severus?’ the blond wizard drawled innocently.

‘May I remind you that this is a lesson, not a harem? I would appreciate it if you did not distract my student.’

The look in Snape’s eyes was so cold it could have frozen the Sahara, and Lucius raised his hands in defensive gesture. ‘So sorry, Severus,’ he answered with fake sincerity and took a step away from the girl.

Morgana gave Snape a thankful look. She had been felt up by Lucius in front of Snape once before and she had no wish to repeat it. It had been embarrassing enough the last time, and she suddenly felt guilty. Silvy had never delivered her message to Snape on Valentine’s, and later Morgana had had no opportunity to tell her teacher herself that she was sorry. She really had not wanted him to witness Lucius kissing and caressing her.

Snape exhaled through his nose and continued. At least, Malfoy was not touching the girl anymore. ‘The unicorn horn acts as an antiseptic as well as a neutraliser to most poisons. It will come to no surprise for you to discover that the next active ingredient in this potion is one of the greatest natural antidotes in the Wizarding world – a bezoar.’

Lucius was now sauntering around the dungeon slowly, peering at the dusty jars on the shelves, wincing at their contents and now and then giving a sound of disgust. Snape, however, ignored him and went on.

‘The bezoar, as you already know, comes from the stomach of a goat and again is another costly ingredient. It is fortunate therefore that the whole bezoar is not required for this potion. You should place an equal amount of bezoar to unicorn horn in this potion. So, in this case, that would be four grams.’

He began to shave off flakes of bezoar into his pestle and mortar swiftly with his sharp silver knife. The ease of his movements showed Morgana that he had clearly done this many times before. Once more she felt a surge of admiration for her skilful teacher, and wished she would one day become as proficient as he was. Maybe, he would take her on as his apprentice.

Lucius meanwhile was tapping his stick against the wall as he wandered around the classroom, obviously bored out of his mind. He had never understood the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron whilst at school and hated Potions with a passion. One look at a cauldron made his silvery-blue eyes glaze over.

Morgana winced at the sound of the tapping. Since the start of her pregnancy, she was very sensitive to sound, probably due to the lack of sleep. And also, Lucius seemed to be deliberately trying to hijack her lesson and put Snape off. It was one thing to want to annoy Snape, but this was her NEWT he was interrupting!

‘Do you mind, Lucius?’ she snapped.

Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise. No one would usually dare to speak to Lucius Malfoy in such a way.

‘Tsk tsk tsk, Morgana, such a tone,’ Lucius said lightly, disguising any trace of irritation. ‘Is your dear Head of House rubbing off on you?’

‘I am trying to get a good grade here!’

The girl was clearly angry, and her eyes had narrowed. Snape put down his knife, ready to tell her to be quiet in case she should lose control. He knew that Malfoy had a short temper. Not even Morgana would get away with being insubordinate.

‘Why ever would you need a good grade in Potions, love?’ Lucius retorted with disbelief, as if Potions was a frivolous subject and not real magic at all.

With her jaw tightened, Morgana managed to ignore his comment and turned instead to Snape once more. ‘Please, go on, professor.’

Snape nodded imperceptibly and continued. ‘Once you have ground the bezoar into a fine powder, add it to your simmering potion as before.’

Morgana leant forward and saw the bezoar had turned the potion a deep purple colour.

‘So, we have the antiseptic and the neutralizer,’ Snape stated. ‘Do you know what else this potion needs, Miss Belakane?’

‘Oh, does it really matter?’ Lucius snapped impatiently before he could stop himself. ‘Potions can be BOUGHT!’

Really, this lesson was beyond dull. And all he wanted was to take Morgana upstairs, drive into her and give her a dose of his own magic liquid. He had been thinking about it all day, but instead, he had to sit here and listen to Snape droning on about antiseptics and neutralisers!

‘Lucius, if you disrupt this class one more time I will throw you out the door myself!’ Snape growled fiercely. The man would have no genitals left by the end of the lesson if Snape had his way.

Morgana cleared her throat as she saw Lucius cock his head to the side and puff his chest out. The last thing she needed was to be in the middle of an argument, so she moved the lesson on before Lucius had time to react. ‘Something that contracts, sir?’ she asked quickly. ‘To close wounds and stop the bleeding?’

‘A good guess, Miss Belakane,’ Snape praised her. ‘You are half right. Something will be needed to stop the bleeding if we were treating a wound. The healing element would be done by Dittany in that case. Potion makers have for many years tried to combine the healing elements of Dittany with this potion and have failed. For some reason, a unified potion cannot be made. However, Ceramite and Dittany CAN be used together to treat a wound.’

Lucius tutted and sat down next to Morgana once more, and his hands again began to caress her arms. He was obviously determined to get the foreplay over and done with already in the dungeons.

Morgana felt a flash of annoyance. She was trying to concentrate, and Lucius’ disruption and him behaving like an octopus was really starting to get on her nerves.

‘Lucius, knock it off!’

The words escaped her before she could stop herself. And although Lucius didn’t bat an eyelid, she knew that she should not be talking to him like that.

‘Lucius, please!’ she whispered, trying to keep a lid on her anger and to apologise at the same time. ‘Please, I need this grade.’

She gave him a shy smile and then turned back to Snape. ‘Could one use coneflower then, sir? To stop the bleeding?’ she asked.

Snape looked impressed. ‘Coneflower, when used on its own, does indeed stem blood flow. However, its effects do not transfer to this potion. It is a useful thing to remember if you are out in the countryside and get injured, to look for a coneflower. Five points to Slytherin for your knowledge.’

Morgana inclined her head proudly. During the course of this lesson, Snape had awarded her ten House points! That was surely a record! And Lucius seemed to have forgotten that she had just snapped at him and was rubbing her back in what he clearly thought was a rewarding and sensual way. But it didn’t do anything for Morgana. At any other time, she would have closed her eyes and sunk into his touch, but at this moment in time it felt creepy, and she shrugged herself free from his touch. She never noticed his expression darken as he removed his hands from her.

But Snape did. He could not blame the girl, but he sincerely hoped that she had not gone too far. A man like Lucius Malfoy did not handle rejection well.

‘The final ingredient in this potion is Acromantula venom. Again, courtesy of Hagrid, we have a plentiful supply.’ He held up a little vial filled with a thick, yellowish liquid. ‘Although it seems somewhat incongruous to use a venom in an anti-venom potion, most anti-venoms contain a venom as part of their active ingredient to help the body’s immunity. And Acromantula venom also happens to have cauterizing properties. That is to say, it stems the flow of blood from an open wound.’

‘How much is used?’ asked Morgana, scribbling away feverishly.

‘One part venom to every four parts of horn and bezoar. So, for this potion, one fluid gram.’

‘Seriously, Severus, can she not just read this in a book?’ Lucius asked testily. He wanted to get the girl out of here as fast as possible. He was not used to being overlooked and not being the centre of attention, and Morgana hanging on Snape’s every word made him bristle.

Morgana held her breath as she saw the flash of anger in her teacher’s eyes. She knew that look. It didn’t promise anything good.

‘Every other student has had practical experience of making or seeing this potion being made,’ Snape hissed. ‘I will not have one of my best students being at a disadvantage because of her current ... medical condition!’ He swept over to the door and ripped it open forcefully. ‘You have disrupted my lesson enough, Lucius. Get out of my classroom,’ he said coldly.

Lucius smiled back at him, calmly. ‘You do not want to do this, Severus. Trust me.’

Snape’s black eyes glittered. ‘I said, get out,’ he replied in a low growl.

‘Severus, Severus. This is not wise,’ Lucius answered, standing slowly and tucking his cane under his arm. ‘Not wise at all.’

Morgana watched fearfully as Snape drew himself up to his full height.

‘Do you want me to physically remove you? Or would you prefer to be hexed?’

‘You might want to be nice to me, Severus. I am, after all, inspecting you,’ Lucius reminded the dark wizard. He was still smiling. But the smile was as fake as his claims to not be a supporter of the Dark Lord.

‘Lucius, please,’ Morgana pleaded. ‘Why don't you go and have a glass of wine, and I'll come and see you in an hour. Please?’ She was begging now. She desperately did not want to get Snape in trouble.

Lucius turned his silvery-blue eyes on to the girl, flaring his nostrils. So, she really would rather be down here listening to Snape’s drivel than to be in his bed. It was a huge blow to his ego.

‘Lucius, please,’ Morgana repeated, gazing at him with big blue eyes. ‘This is important to me,’ she added quietly.

Snape gave a little hem-hem and gestured at the door.

‘I'll be there in an hour, Lucius. I promise.’

Lucius’ gaze seemed to soften as he looked at Morgana. ‘As you wish, my love.’

He walked forwards and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘I will be waiting for you,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t be late.’

He gently caressed her cheek and then gave a stiff bow and fake smile to Snape before sweeping out of the dungeon and slamming door behind him.

Morgana buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders slumped. The moment Lucius had left, every ounce of energy seemed to have left her. She suddenly felt giddy and strange, and as she shifted on her stool, the pain in her side returned, dull now but just as fierce.

‘Trust that buffoon to come and spoil things,’ Snape ground out whilst returning to his cauldron. ‘The fool could have made me ruin the potion.’

He froze as Morgana looked up at him. The girl was as pale as a ghost.

‘Miss Belakane? Is something the matter?’

‘I ... that was somewhat exhausting, sir ...’ Morgana began, her voice shaking.

‘You do not look well,’ Snape pointed out.

‘I'll be fine in a moment, sir,’ she replied, trying to smile bravely. The very last thing she wanted was Snape sending her away now.

‘Do you want to continue?’ Snape asked carefully. He knew how stubborn that girl was. She would not admit to being unwell even if she were lying on the floor.

As expected, Morgana nodded and sat up straight.

‘Very well,’ Snape conceded. ‘So, for this potion, we require one fluid gram of Acromantula venom.’

He poured the contents of the vial into the potion, which hissed and turned a weird purply-green colour. Morgana wrinkled her nose. It did not look appetising.

‘The potion needs to be stirred vigorously counter-clockwise for five minutes,’ Snape continued. ‘Tedious, but there you are.’ He picked up the stirring rod and began to stir.

But Morgana could not concentrate on the potion anymore. ‘Are you going to be in trouble, sir?’ she asked her teacher in a concerned tone.

Snape snorted. ‘It will take more than Lucius Malfoy to get me into trouble.’

‘He will be angry that you threatened him,’ Morgana persisted, the note of concern still in her voice. She knew that Lucius had the means to make Snape’s life very uncomfortable.

‘It wasn't a threat,’ Snape replied darkly.

Morgana nodded slowly. She had no doubt that Snape could handle himself against Lucius, yet there seemed to be much bad blood between the two wizards. And she had a feeling that the grudge went back a long way.

‘Sir, do you mind if I get a glass of water?’ she asked, her throat suddenly parched, and the jar of water that stood on Snape’s desk looked more than delicious.

Snape effortlessly conjured a glass and poured some water for the girl with his free hand. She thanked him politely before pulling out a phial from her pocket and adding some drops to the water. Once more she felt dizzy and could feel her blood pressure plummet. And she could not keep her hand from shaking.

Snape looked up as he heard the phial clatter against the glass. ‘Miss Belakane,’ he began sternly, looking serious, ‘if there is something wrong, I suggest you tell me immediately.’

‘I'm just a little nauseous, sir,’ Morgana replied, tucking the phial back into her robes. ‘This is essence of ginger. Madam Pomfrey says it's good for me.’

‘Do not be a martyr,’ Snape said in a surprisingly soft tone. ‘Watching me complete a potion is not worth risking your health over.’

He finished stirring and placed the stirrer down carefully onto the desk. Morgana looked up at him. She did not want the lesson to be over so soon. And she most certainly did not want to be with Lucius this evening, despite her promise to go to him in an hour.

‘I very much like to stay here a little while longer, sir,’ she said quietly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. He could tell from her discomfort earlier that she was reluctant to go to Lucius. And who could blame her? The last thing she needed when unwell was to be pawed by that man-whore.

‘The potion is complete, Miss Belakane,’ he started, and saw the girl’s face fall in disappointment. ‘However, if you are desperate to assist me, I do have Flobberworms that require chopping. And they are completely harmless, in your current state,’ he inflected carefully.

Morgana gave him a tiny smile. ‘Well, I am the best Flobberworm chopper in the castle,’ she agreed.

‘Are you up to it?’ Snape asked. Flobberworms, although harmless, were not particularly pleasant creatures, and if the girl was already feeling nauseous, they may do little to make her feel better.

‘If that means I can stay a couple more minutes, than yes, I am up to it,’ Morgana answered with determination. She’d scrub Neville Longbottom’s cauldron if need be.

Snape looked at the girl hard for a few moments. If it meant so much to her, he would not turn her away. ‘You may stay for a few more minutes. Without Flobberworms.’

Morgana gave him a grateful smile as she watched him begin to bottle up the potion. His movements were so graceful, no matter what he was doing. Some called him the bat of the dungeons but to her, he was a sleek panther.

As Morgana watched, her brow furrowed as she thought she could hear something. She strained her ears to listen.

Is he humming, she thought to herself.

She cocked her head and listened more keenly. Yes, he was! Severus Snape, surly Potions master, was humming away happily as he tidied away the equipment. Morgana could not help but smile.

‘Please, sir, don't take this the wrong way,’ she began as Snape cleaned the cauldron with a flick of his wand and he looked up at her, his eyebrow quirked. ‘There was a time when I thought that you thoroughly HATED teaching Potions!’

Snape snorted. ‘I DO hate teaching Potions.’

‘You do?’ Morgana was surprised. From their lessons together, she could see how much he loved his subject.

‘Trying to teach Potions is like trying to herd Kneazles,’ Snape explained. ‘Everyone goes in different directions; everyone is at different levels. NEWT level is fine, as the wheat is well and truly sorted from the chaff. But anything else is ... buttock-clenchingly frustrating.’

‘I see,’ Morgana blurted out, trying desperately hard not to laugh at Snape’s rather unexpected turn of phrase. But it was no good. The more she thought about it, the funnier it got.

Snape saw her shoulders begin to shake and raised an eyebrow. ‘Something amused you, Miss Belakane?’

Morgana was grinning in earnest now. ‘Um, I never thought I'd hear something like buttock-clenchingly frustrating from you.’

Snape saw the girl begin to giggle, then guffaw, then downright belly laugh, tears streaming down her face. And he just watched, bemused at her reaction. Her cheeks were getting rosier again. Laughter seemed, indeed, a good medicine.

After a few moments, Morgana tried to catch her breath. ‘Sorry, sir,’ she panted, wiping away her tears on her sleeves.

‘Are you sure that wasn't Draught of the Living Giggles in that phial?’ Snape asked with a smirk.

‘I have no idea.’ Morgana was still trying to stop grinning. ‘But that felt good!’ she admitted.

‘Hormones again, I should imagine,’ Snape replied, still smirking.

‘Most probably,’ Morgana agreed.

Then, suddenly, she turned serious. ‘I have to go now, don’t I?’ she asked, her eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. ‘He's waiting for me now, isn't he?’

‘You do not have to go this evening, if you are not up to it,’ Snape replied. ‘I can send you to the hospital wing, and explain to Malfoy that you were taken unwell.’

‘That's alright, sir,’ Morgana answered with a thankful smile. Snape was in enough trouble because of her already. ‘I think I can handle Lucius. I've had a lot of practise after all.’

‘Indeed you have.’ Snape’s tone had lost any of its warmth as he turned and opened the door. ‘In that case, good night, Miss Belakane,’ he said curtly, holding the door open for her.

‘You won't be taking of points for me not sleeping in the dormitory, right?’ Morgana tried to joke, but it was clear Snape did not find her comment the least bit funny.

‘You know I don't like to take points from my own House,’ he replied with a scowl. ‘And besides, being with Malfoy is punishment enough.’

Morgana inclined her head slightly. ‘Good night then, sir,’ she said reluctantly as she walked through the door. ‘And thank you. For the lesson and the giggles.’

Snape’s mouth twitched. Giggles indeed!

He gave the girl a curt nod and then watched her make her way down the corridor towards the Slytherin common room. She would certainly go and slip into something more comfortable than her school robes now, probably into something tailored and expensive that Lucius had bought her. But for what point? Lucius was going to talk her out of her knickers in a blink of an eye anyway. Just as he always did.

With a scowl darker that a midwinter night, Snape slammed the door shut and made his way to the liquor cabinet. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and he would need something really strong to wash it down.

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