Above All Things

Above All Things
Chapter Three
by Nom de Plume



Exactly three days after the debacle at the Ministry’s award ceremony, Severus Snape found himself perusing the shelves of Slug and Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley. He was perilously close to running out of hellebore.

In fact, he wouldn’t have even known that he was low on the poisonous plant if he hadn’t been randomly sifting through potions ingredients the past couple of days for reasons he could only speculate at.

He gently rifled through the sealed glass jars containing shrivelled hellebore samples and sighed. Replacing the one he’d been examining he turned towards the counter.

“Arsenius, do you not have any fresh hellebore? These over here are expired.” Snape waved a hand in the general direction of the plants.

The plump wizard behind the counter looked up from his scales and eyed Snape warily behind the thick lenses of his spectacles.

“I do not let anything expire in my shoppe, Professor Snape,” he replied haughtily.

“Then how fortunate for you that I found the one item that has escaped your careful eye.” Snape calmly stared at Arsenius Jigger and silently dared the man to refute him.

The old wizard brushed his hands over his canvas apron and stalked off to his storeroom, grumbling. He knew better than to challenge the great Potions Master of Hogwarts. And besides, to antagonize him would be incredibly bad for business.

As Snape waited for the Apothecary to return he idly flipped through a basket of shrivelfigs on the counter.

“Professor Snape?” a curious voice called from behind.

Snape slowly turned, arching an eyebrow. His expression settled into one of welcome and he inclined his head. “Healer Wellen, good afternoon.”

They shook hands and Snape noticed the medical professional was carrying a wicker basket full of various ingredients and motioned towards it.

“Surely St. Mungo’s does not send its own Healers out for supplies?” He quirked his lips in jest.

The kind faced man waved off the basket he held. “No, no. They keep us well stocked. I was just in for a bit of browsing. Personal research you might say.”

Snape nodded and began to ask what sort of research the Healer was engaged in when Arsenius returned carrying an armful of freshly jarred hellebore.

“Will these work, Professor?” the Apothecary asked archly.

Snape bent down and examined the bottles carefully and nodded. “Much better, Arsenius. I’ll take seven, if you please.”

The old wizard nodded and began shrinking the ingredients and packaging them. Snape turned back to the Healer and noticed that he was eyeing Snape’s purchase thoughtfully.

“Healer Wellen?” he asked. The medi-wizard snapped out of his reverie and politely smiled.

“Excuse me. I was lost in thought.”

“Anything of interest?” Snape asked off-handedly and lay four galleons down upon the counter.

“Possibly,” the Healer responded. “Your purchase sparked an idea.” He sighed and hefted his heavy basket to his other arm. “I admit I’m rather stumped over a certain case. A patient of mine. Very hush-hush,” he added quietly, looking at Snape with a curious glance, “but I wonder what a person of your… intellect, might have to offer on the subject. Do you have a moment, Professor?”

Snape cast a Stasis Charm over his purchase and looked back to the medi-wizard curiously, then nodded. “I do if the case is interesting.” The Healer smiled and agreed to meet Snape at a café down the street in twenty minutes.

-------------


“You mean Hermione Granger?” Snape asked incredulously and sat his cup of tea down upon the disturbingly lacy tablecloth in front of him. Why they couldn’t have met at a less, well, ‘horrifying’ came to mind, establishment was beyond him.

The frustrated wizard across the table nodded and looked around cautiously. “The very same.” He sighed and looked down at his mug of coffee.

Snape stared at the man, a wizard who was thought to be one of the tops in his field and couldn’t help but feel that he was at least a bit inadequate.

“There is no cure at all? Treatment is not delaying the spread of the toxin?” The other wizard shook his head and swallowed a gulp of the bitter brown liquid.

“No Charms, or Anti-Curses? I fail to see how an antidote can not exist. There is a poison, therefore there must be an antidote,” Snape stated flatly and crossed his arms.

He was becoming increasingly agitated the more the man described this poison in particular. Something about its properties bothered him. And while he was examining the situation critically, professionally, he couldn’t help but feel a slight niggling of excitement over something this befuddling. This was a genuine challenge.

“I’m sure there’s a way for one to be created but I’ve tried everything. I’ve had four other colleagues, two of whom are especially adept at anti-poison study, working on this as well and no one can make heads or tails of it.”

The two men sat quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Snape was already mentally cataloguing various potions and reactions that would seem to explain the way the poison was behaving. It sounded truly sophisticated. There were few Potions Masters alive that could create such an aggressively devious poison such as this. And even though he was professionally excited at the oddity this toxin presented he also felt increasingly uncomfortable; he was one of those few who could have created it.

The Dark Lord had more than just one Potions Master in his employ while he’d been alive. And Severus would be one of the first to admit that some of the more horrible concoctions he’d been forced to create gave him more than enough nightmares to last him the rest of his life. He could only imagine the sorts of abominations others might have concocted. The other problem bothering him was the fact that if it were a poison Snape had crafted there would be almost no way for anyone other than him and the Dark Lord to have accessed it.

“How was this poison administered?” he asked the Healer quietly.

The Healer shrugged his shoulders. “We’re not certain. Miss Granger claims she did not ingest anything; solid or liquid during the incident.” Snape nodded. “She did say that the Death Eater who assaulted her was wearing Dragon Hide gloves….” he trailed off meaningfully.

Severus forced himself to not shift in his seat. “Meaning it most likely was absorbed directly into the skin from a saturated source — such as said gloves.” This really was starting to sound even more familiar; which was definitely not a good thing for Miss Granger.

The Healer nodded, agreeing with Snape. There was an awkward pause, and then the Healer spoke again. “There is an unfortunate addition. Given her, situation,” he exaggerated this last word, “her condition faces significantly worse deterioration.”

Snape looked up, his expression neutral.

“I suppose you’ve heard about her most recent debacle? It’s been all over the papers and tabloids,” the wizard quipped. As a sort of celebrity given her association with Potter and her extravagant efforts during the War, Hermione had been yet another victim of magical paparazzi and gossip in the years following the defeat of Voldemort.

“I abhor tabloid gossip,” Severus chided. “But I was in attendance at the Ministry function you’re alluding to,” Snape said evenly. He could still see the stricken look in the eyes of the unfortunate Gryffindor.

The Healer set his mug back down and leaned forward. “Oh, no I mean what happened afterwards.”

Snape’s brows knit together in confusion. The only thing he could think of was how she had fallen apart on the stage in front of hundreds and fled the scene in the dramatic way that only a Gryffindor could perfect.

“Yes, there was much speculation at the awards ceremony, the poor thing. But I'm talking about what she did to him the next day!” The Healer slapped his knee and grinned. “She made a right fool out of him in front of the entire Ministry! During rush hour, no less!”

Snape looked at the man with surprise and interest. “Go on.”

“She called him out in front of everyone in his department. She even managed to find his mistress and let them both have it at the same time! No shame, no secrets. By the time she was through with them St. Mungo’s had been called and her no good ‘fiancé’ had effectively been relieved of his position as Undersecretary.” He leaned back in his seat with a smug expression. “And good for her, I say.”

Severus leaned back in his chair as well, a slight grin upon his lips. So, she’d affected retaliation. Good for her indeed. She’d risen a few pegs in his estimation as a result. It may not have been using the art of subtlety, but revenge is revenge any way you slice it.

The moment of triumph on Miss Granger's behalf lasted but for only a moment as the Healer's grin faded, his expression softening. "She, er, had a bit of a bad episode yesterday. She managed to contact me before losing consciousness, luckily, but given her emotional state now," the man paused uncomfortably, "if she has no fight left in her, she will succumb much more quickly."

The Healer looked back up into Severus' blank face. "I only tell you this because I think I'd like to consult you, Mr. Snape."

Severus contemplated the man before him and thought again about the toxin and the challenge it presented. It could be an incredibly fascinating project. Something to occupy the remainder of his summer holiday. However, the potential for trouble was raised exponentially as he considered the subject on whom he’d be working with.

It wasn’t as if this were a simple case study of a nameless face. This was a former student, a former comrade and a brilliant one at that. Already the fact that the wizarding world could potentially be losing the talents of such a mind that had barely begun to contribute to society in the first place, was unsettling. But he knew this person. Could he detach himself enough to work as clinically, precisely as he should?

On the other hand, would it be unkind (perish the thought) to not offer assistance in an area of study he was so adept in? How many times had he watched over her, and her companions’, backs while they had been students? He frowned. More than he should have had to, the little gits.

He inhaled and took one last sip of his now cold tea and looked up to the Healer.

“I understand it could be awkward, given that she was a former student,” Healer Wellen said softly and looked at Snape knowingly.

He straightened in his seat, scowling slightly. “Perhaps.” He rose out of his chair, followed by the Healer, and looked at the man levelly. “If I agree to be your, consult, I would only do so under the condition of anonymity.”

The Healer nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course. I understand. Any assistance you could offer would be greatly appreciated.”

Snape nodded. “Perhaps you could send along what research you have? I can at the very least compare information on the toxins I have…worked with in the past to see if there are any correlations,” he said carefully.

The men agreed and with a slight uneasy feeling, Severus Disapparated to Hogwarts to dig out some of the more questionable lab notes he kept hidden in his work lab. He might as well get started while it was fresh on his mind.

----------------

Hermione sat in the comfortable wingback of her former Headmaster’s office looking around the warm space fondly. Minerva was stirring a steaming cup of tea and chattering on about the latest Hogwarts news. She and her former Head of House had maintained steady correspondence in the years since she’d graduated and had become rather close friends.

She was one of the few people Hermione wanted to visit in person at least one more time before saying goodbye.

She raised her own cup of chamomile tea to her lips and inhaled the soothing scent, allowing her eyelashes to flutter closed. She was so tired. The last few days had been completely dreadful and very draining for her physically. And last night she’d experienced the worst convulsion yet….

“I’m so proud of you,” the older witch said after a moment’s pause. Hermione opened her weary eyes and looked at the Headmistress. “Of what you did,” she explained. “It took great courage to face him like that. And I must say,” she added conspiratorially, “you did it with pizzazz,” she winked over her teacup.

Hermione grinned and looked down. “I knew we didn’t have the fairytale romance,” McGonagall snorted, “but I really didn’t think he would ever stoop so low….”

Minerva gazed at her young friend sadly. “Hermione, there are very few real fairytales anymore.” The younger witch’s throat tightened against a sudden threat of tears. “We must make our own way. And when it doesn’t go as planned we must do what we can to change our circumstances for the best. Which, you clearly have done. Evan Witherly was the biggest blatherskite I’ve seen since Percy Weasley,” she frowned.

Hermione shook her head and looked at her friend oddly. “So why were you all for me marrying a…what did you call him?”

Minerva set her teacup down and looked at Hermione in amusement. “A blatherskite. And forgive me for not speaking my mind at the time, my dear. But to be fair I had no idea things had gotten so bad between you two.”

Hermione looked past Minerva and smiled, albeit a little sadly, at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore who had just awoken in his chair and waved at her congenially.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster,” she said.

“Miss Granger, how delightful to see you. I hear you caused quite a stir the other day in the Ministry. I always approve of those,” he winked, his painted blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

She nodded her head in agreement and looked up at him wistfully.

“What fortunate event brings you to our hallowed halls?” he enquired and crossed his gnarled fingers across his lap.

“Girl talk, Albus,” Minerva quipped, pouring another cup of tea. “Hermione was just telling me that she’s planned a vacation. Good for her, I say.”

Hermione ducked her head and looked back into her teacup. Dumbledore looked at his former student curiously. She hadn’t the heart, or the courage it seemed anymore, to tell her loved ones yet.

“Yes, I’ve always found a nice holiday does wonders for a troubled mind,” he said calmly.

“Well, it’s more of a sabbatical, really,” Hermione said, her eyes still averted.

“How long will you be away?” Minerva asked conversationally.

“A few months, I suspect,” Hermione said as lightly as she could.

Minerva looked back up from her tea. “Goodness, where will you spend that much time?”

Hermione held her cup out for refreshment and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, here and there. There are a few places I’ve always wanted to go.” She dropped a lump of sugar into the warm liquid and swirled it around, still not looking up into the faces of her former mentors. “Greece, maybe,” she said quietly.

Minerva looked at the girl sympathetically.

Albus frowned slightly. “Yes. I hear Greece is lovely this time of year,” he said slowly. “If you can get round all the tourists, of course.”

----------


Severus stared round at the piles of parchment, files of notes, and various texts he had gathered about him. Running an agitated hand through his lank mop of hair—was there no end to this heat? — he sighed. He had some serious organizing to do before he could get down to separating the special poisons he’d created for the Dark Lord and then hoping he’d managed to not destroy any antidotes he’d been able to create as well.

When the Dark Lord had ordered any poison or potions to be brewed, he simply told his Potions Master the desired effects he wanted and always indicated that he would need them as fast as humanly possible. Which, when combined with everything else Severus had had to do in his life, usually meant he’d never had the time to create the opposing antidotes. And as soon as his brews were delivered, Severus had been Obliviated to prevent any unnecessary complications should Severus be tempted, or goaded, rather, into creating any antidotes.

He usually attempted to jot down notes as he went to clue him in on a potential means of quickly creating any antidotes from the poisons he created, however. He wasn’t a fool— he always kept backup documents.

Sweeping another gaze around at the mess before him he decided he’d let Minerva know he was present in the castle before settling down to work. It looked like his short respite from the quiet comforts of home had turned into something more long term.

Marching over to the massive stone fireplace in his front room, Severus reached into the pot containing his supply of Floo powder and tossed it into the empty hearth.

Might as well settle back into my rooms now, he thought somewhat bitterly.

“Headmistress’s office,” he announced. Stepping into the warm flames licking up his body, he crouched down enough to exit out of her corresponding fireplace up on the seventh floor of the castle.

“Oh, Severus!” McGonagall said with a start when he appeared. “You really should announce your visits in advance before popping out of my fireplace,” she admonished lightly. “What if I’d been indecent?” she teased and sat down at her desk.

Snape’s lips quirked in amusement and he feigned a shudder. “Merlin help me should I walk in on you, Minerva.” He dusted the soot from his button up shirt and stepped forward.

“I’ve walked in on Minerva before. The old girl really has held up well,” Albus winked and chuckled to himself from his portrait.

Minerva blushed profusely and Snape stared at him with a mixture of horror and shock.

“For god’s sake, Albus,” Minerva clipped. “Must you tell everyone about that?” She sighed and turned her attention back to her Potions Master.

“I presume you wished to speak with me?” she said and indicated he take a seat in the chair Miss Granger had lately vacated. She added as an afterthought, “Incidentally, when did you get in? I was under the impression you were remaining at your home over the holiday this year.”

Snape declined the chair, sneering at the horrid lace doily that graced the arms. “No need, that’s precisely why I stopped by, to let you know I was about. I have a project I will be working on and need use of the lab,” he said and glanced at the empty teacups on Minerva’s desk.

“Have you given the house elves a leave of absence” he asked nodding at the empty cups, “or do you usually leave your discarded tea things lying around?” He loved baiting his former Transfiguration teacher.

Dismissing himself, he reached into her pot of Floo powder and had just flung it into the grate when Minerva retaliated in kind.

“No, Severus. For your information I had just finished entertaining a guest. Not that the concept is familiar to you,” she sniffed, hiding a grin.

Albus chuckled again and mentioned something about entertaining indecent guests and for Severus to be careful next time indeed, when Minerva cleared away the mess on her desktop.

“It’s always lovely when Miss Granger comes for tea,” she said fondly.

Snape stopped and turned slowly back around to face the witch. “Miss Granger?” he asked indifferently.

“Yes. She had just stopped by for a visit. She wanted to say goodbye before she left.”

Snape blinked in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yes. She’s going on an extended vacation.”

“Sabbatical,” Albus corrected in the background.

“Indeed? How fortunate that some are able to afford such luxuries,” Snape said cautiously and glanced at the chair before the great oak desk.

“Poor thing. If anyone needs a holiday it’s her,” she sighed and took in Severus’ pale skin. “Of course you could use a little sun yourself,” she murmured.

“Greece,” Albus called cheerily and stared at Severus.

“What?” the younger man blinked and looked at his former employer and friend quizzically.

“She’s going to Greece. For a few months.”

Minerva sighed, exasperated, “She didn’t say that. She said she was going to multiple places for several months. Touring, I expect.”

Severus looked back to Minerva. “For several months?” he asked. Why would the girl be going on vacation for several months? Did she even have several months? He frowned as he processed the new information while the current and former Headpersons bickered over exactly what Hermione had said.

“Well at any rate, I hope she enjoys it. She seemed so sad. Weak as a kitten,” Minerva tutted. Severus looked up at her.

“Is Miss Granger still here?” he asked carefully.

McGonagall looked at him surprised. “I suppose she’s somewhere in the castle making her way back…why?”

“No reason,” he said shrugging and turning back to the fireplace, tossing in yet another fistful of powder. “Afternoon,” he called over his shoulder and disappeared into the green flames once more.

---------------

He quickly brushed the soot from his person and stared at the door leading out of his rooms. He could probably catch her if he left now. But did he need to? The girl — he closed his eyes in frustration, young woman he reminded his inner narrator as he unconsciously strode across his rooms to the entryway— had her own plans. If she wanted to see the world before…he paused and opened his door then set off down a darkened hallway of his beloved dungeon.

It was no business of his how she chose to live the remainder of her life, he thought briskly. But, if it were him, he would be at home, conserving his strength, and doing his damndest to find a cure. Not flitting about the continent willy-nilly and running away from the problem. He’d put up a fight.

Not that it was his business, of course. He just wondered if her Healer knew.

Reaching the top of the stairs leading out of the dungeons he glanced up at the Marble Staircase. When there was no sign of her he went to the massive oak doors at the entryway and peered out onto the grounds. She apparently hadn’t made it this far yet.

Trying to decide where the best place to “run into” Miss Granger would be, he settled for leaning against one of the carved stone pillars just outside of the front doors. She would have to come by this way sooner or later. And Minerva’s damn comment about his lack of solar exposure had annoyed him. He was out of doors plenty….

It occurred to him as he stood casually against the cool stone pillar that he wasn’t entirely sure why he was waiting for her. Just exactly what was he going to say to her?

Good afternoon, Miss Granger, I hear you left your adulterous fiancé. Of course not.

Oh, Miss Granger, what an unexpected surprise. By the way, how is your health? Fool. He rolled his eyes.

“Good afternoon, Professor.”

Severus started.

“Oh, Miss Granger, good afternoon.” He straightened and pushed off the pillar a bit too quickly. When had she opened the doors?

She conjured an insincere, lopsided smile for him and continued on her way, stepping down the stone stairway to the path leading away from the castle, but paused. Turning around a bit jerkily, she glanced up at him shyly.

“I’m very sorry you were involved in…Evan’s shameful fiasco the other night. I apologize for any discomfort he may have caused you,” she mumbled, her gaze focused on the tops of her sneakers.

Severus blinked. Did she honestly just apologize for that halfwit’s indiscretions? He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Granger, I assure you.”

She nodded and looked up at him. He watched her for a moment as she struggled to say something further. With a sigh she simply nodded once more and turned back to leave.

“Goodbye, Professor,” she said quietly and continued forlornly down the pebbled path to the front gate.

Severus stared after her for a moment and before he could stop himself, followed after her.

“Minerva tells me you’re planning a trip,” he said casually, meeting her stride. He stared ahead, his chin held loftily.

“Sir?” she asked, confused as to why he was walking with her.

“You are a guest, Miss Granger. It is typical for a member of staff to see guests off the grounds,” he explained, still keeping his gaze fixed forward.

“Thank you,” she replied. “Yes, I am.”

He nodded. “Where will you be going, if I may enquire?”

Hermione was quiet for a moment then blurted out, “Greece.” Snape smirked.

“The tourist season is in full swing at this time of year, good luck.”

Hermione frowned.

They walked in silence, with only the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, until they nearly reached the gateway guarding the entrance to the school grounds.

“You’re leaving soon, I take it?” he asked. He flicked his gaze at her for a moment before looking back to the gate.

“Yes,” she said stonily. “Very soon.” She stopped just inside of the gate and looked up curiously at her former professor. He was watching her warily now.

“Professor,” she ventured nervously, “if I were to enquire about something Potions related,” she paused, unsure of what exactly to ask him.

He waited quietly for her to continue and settled his expression into one of calm indifference. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

She bit her lip and sighed. “I mean, if I had a question about certain ingredients, and needed professional advice, would you mind too terribly if I contacted you?” She looked up at him, matching his calm façade with one of her own.

He looked at her curiously, wondering exactly what the girl, young woman!, was planning. How could she be travelling and working on Potions at the same time? Unless she were seeking out a certain ingredient not readily available in the U.K. Was there honestly something in Greece? His mind ran through a quick list of possibilities before nodding at her slowly.

“I think that would be all right, Miss Granger.” He watched as she relaxed a bit. “Are you working on something?”

They walked the rest of the short distance to the gate and Hermione shrugged.

“Not at the moment, no. I was just wondering.” She looked back down to her now dusty Muggle trainers.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. She was hiding something, clearly. The girl had never been very good at lying.

“I see.” He was about to prod her further into telling him what exactly she was planning when she suddenly winced and bent over minutely, her lips thinning and she exhaled harshly. She played it off very well, really. If he hadn’t been watching so carefully he might have missed the movements altogether.

“Are you well, Miss Granger?” he asked, taking a step forward.

She straightened immediately. “Of course, just a bit tired. Stressful couple of days,” she said, then crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said, changing her tone from tired to light and conversational, “you seem to be a much different person than the formidable man I remember from school.”

Severus blinked at the abrupt change in topic. Crafty…. He leaned against the stone gateway and arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you mean. I’m still quite formidable.”

She grinned and watched him thoughtfully. “You keep…interesting company these days,” she said cheekily.

Severus pursed his lips. “I have always kept, ‘interesting’ company, as you say. They just happen to be infinitely more pleasant than my previous acquaintances.” He flicked a speck of dust from his sleeve.

Hermione smiled. “You seem happier.” Severus looked up at her, surprised. “I’m glad you’re life has been much easier. You deserve it,” she said quietly.

Snape stared at the Gryffindor, unsure whether he wanted to chastise her or thank her. He was spared either response when she inhaled quickly and tensed ever so slightly.

“Thank you again, Professor. I appreciate it,” she ground out tightly and walked through the gates and Disapparated.

Severus stood looking at the spot she had vanished from, brows furrowed.

What was that girl up to?

~~~



A/N: I do so love writing the interactions among Severus, Minerva and Albus. A dotty Dumbledore is my favourite. (Severus aside of course.)

Still doing okay out there? This chapter was very dialogue heavy, so I hope that's not a problem. I like writing dialogue, so just fyi. ;) I’m tickled that I’ve been able to write as quickly as I have. But I’ve been sitting on this for months so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. I hope I can keep the updates coming regularly. Thanks to everyone for the comments and thoughts! I would apologize for making Evan such an unimaginable bastard, but that was the intent, so :P .

(p.s. It’s an honour to have you leave me a review, Keladry Lupin! Thanks!)