Accidental Encounters

Chapter Six: The Death Eaters’ Disguise

Harry had pulled a small vial out of a hidden pocket in his cloak. It was glass, with a cork stopper, and had a bright pink label on it. “Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes: Beverage Transformation Essence”. Beverage what?

is ais a new thing Fred and George thought up,” Harry began quietly. “It is quite ingenious really – you add a few drops of it to a glass of water, and the water turns into whatever beverage you like – whether it be coffee, cola or something more … exotic. Gives you a hell of a fright when you end up drinking whiskey from what you thought was a mug of cocoa!”
Hermione smiled at the twins’ unique brand of genius. It still puzzled her though.
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“Well, it leaves a stain around your mouth. You can wipe it off, it is just like a milk moustache. The colour depends on which colour essence you bought. In this case, pink.”
“And those stains … the stains on the children. They were the same as from the Beverage Transformation Essence?”
Harry nodded once, slowly.
“You know what that means?” Hermione didn’t like where this was heading, but Harry shook his head. “It couldn’t be possible. This was so thoroughly tested. I helped them with it on my days off Auror training last month. Nothing resembling the Intimoritus ever happened. It was only released the other day, and the lunch trolley on the Hogwarts Express carried them for the first time today. You can’t tell me only five students bought a vial!”
“Hmm. So maybe it was just a coincidence that all of the injured students drank the essence?”
“I’d think so.” She could tell Harry didn’t really want to believe owisewise.

“Look,” Harry said standing up. “You’ve made a good start here. Don’t rule anything out. I’ll come back and see how you are going.”
“What, you’re leaving now?”
“Have to. I’m needed up at Hogwarts to watch how my brilliant Auror debriefs an aggrieved student population.” Hermione didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice.
“Oh, alright. Thanks for coming to see me.”
“You’ll be okay, ‘Mione. You will.”

***

Sunlight was pouring through the window, causing Hermione to groan. In her daze, she’d forgotten to shut the drapes before going to bed last night. There was no hope for sleep now – the sun had worked its magic and forced her awake. Unlike any other occasion in her life, Hermione remembered straight away where she was and what she was doing. The horror of Hogsmeade Station had not left her during the night. Over dressing and breakfasting, she pondered the mystery of the potionccidccident”. Only she now wasn’t so sure it really was an accident.

Hermione had only just finished her breakfast, when a huge stack of parchment appeared at her table. A quick glance told her that this was the Ministry’s way of dealing with accidental death by potion: double the paperwork. Although what she really wanted to do was work more on the mystery of the previous night, she knew that the Ministry was watching her very closely on this one, and she needed to fly right.

Hermione had only made it a small way down the pile when somebody knocked at her door. Wondering who would be making such an early appearance, she was shocked when upon opening her front door, Professor Snape, dressed in full black scholar’s robes, was revealed to her.

“Professor? What are you doing here?” This time she felt entirely justified in asking.
“I am here on business, and I have been told it concerns you, Miss Granger.”
“Business?”
“Surely I don’t need to remind you of the fact that five of our young students died, not even twenty-four hours ago?”
“No!” she said hurriedly. “Of course not …. Would you like to cin? in?
Snape looked as though he were weighing the invitation in his mind, but after failing to detect any ulterior motive, he walked past her and into the house.

For some reason, Hermione wished she had tidied up a little. There was nothing really wrong, per se, with her house, but she felt a little nervous of what Snape would think. The man’s face, however, did not betray any hint of what he might have been thinking. When he waited for her to take her seat at the table before joining her, she was again strongly reminded of how gentlemanly he could be. Just like that last Sunday in June, the notion of him being so considerate unnerved her.

Snape was now looking unashamedly over her paperwork, and he shocked her again by inquiring in a quiet voice, “Have you reached any conclusions yet?” Feeling as though she were being tested, the former student within her struggled to save face.
“I am still testing samples. I couldn’t possibly say anything for sure at this stage.”
“Hmmm.” She hated not being able to tell what he was thinking. How did the man keep his face formed in such a mask?
He interrupted her thoughts again. “With all due respect, Miss Granger, I don’t think this was an accident.”
And suddenly the Potions expert within in her railed against such patronization.
“A fact of which I am well aware, Professor! But as I said, I have not finished with my enquiries, so I am not prepared to come to any firm conclusion yet.”
Snape simply raised an eyebrow at her, and asked, “So, what do we know?”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked, what are your facts? As Potions Master at Hogwarts, I have every right to know what happened, as well as what is continuing to happen.”
Intimidated, she quickly told him everything she knew, including the link between the Beverage Transformation Essence, the mouth stains and the dead students.

Snape didn’t miss a beat. “The Essence bottles were spiked, of course. Although, perhaps not all of them. Just a few. It is not an uncommon death eater tactic, to disguise an attack as an accident. It is only if an astute wizard, or witch, analyzes the corpses, that they might discover the truth.”

Hermione’s head was spinning from that last statement. It made sense, and she was surprised by his free reference to death eaters. It was a conclusion to which she certainly hadn’t been willingly to jump, certainly not on parchment. Also buried in there was a compliment of her skills, and she began to feel unnerved all over again. Before she could comment, another thought pushed itself to prominence in her mind.

Death eaters – of course. She knew all about Snape’s double life, and a sudden suspicion made her sick. It was his job to be in the loop on these things, and yet he had done nothing to prevent the agonizing deaths of five childreneforefore she knew it, she was standing up and yelling at him. “You would have KNOWN! How could you not have known! And you did nothing at all… How could you be so cold-hearted and let them suffer like that! You didn’t do anything…” All of the horror of what she had witnessed came tumbling out, and before she knew it, she was beating him on his chest, probably out of her senses but incensed that this person standing so casually in her kitchen could have been associated with such a crime.

Snape grabbed each of her forearms and held them firmly until she stopped struggling, and she found herself looking into his eyes again. This time, only inches away from his face, she could see the grey-blue flecks clearly. The emotion behind his eyes was even more noticeable though, for she had found where his mask could slip. His eyes held a pained expression, almost haunted. They quickly clouded over, though, when Snape realized how she was staring at him. He dropped her arms quickly and took a step backward, as though burned. The mask was back in place and he spoke to her in a flat, expressionless voice. “I did not know. He … they don’t keep everyone informed of every activity. Had I known … I can assure you I would have done everything … everything in my power to prevent it. As it is, I don’t know what I can do with myself, knowing I ought to have prevented it…”

For a moment, their eyes were locked again and Hermione was once more searching for the real man under the mask. This time also, though, Snape tore his eyes away and looked to the floor. He spoke so quietly that Hermione had to strain to hear him.
“With any luck, we shouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer.” And then louder, businesslike, “Forgive my intrusion, Miss Granger, and good luck with your investigation.”
“Professor?”
“No one must know I came to see you. Have a good day.”

It was almost as though he added that last sentiment solely to throw her off balance again. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him wish that on anyone before. Quickly, she called after him, “And you too!” But he was already striding away.