66A/N: I know this isn't the update the vast majority of you were hoping for, but it was mostly written which is why I am posting. I'm working on the Stirring don't worry XD.
Brief summary because of update delay: Following canon, Snape killed Dumbledore a few months ago and fled Hogwarts. He now has Alice, a recent rebel Auror recruit, imprisioned in his chambers in Malfoy Manor. Greyback and two other Death Eaters confront Snape about keeping Alice safe behind his wards, he easily shuts them down but is visibly shaken. He takes Alice with him when he goes to test the new recruits.
Alice stepped out of the manor, the crisp November air slipping down her throat like cool water.
In the distance in front of the vast lake, there was a semicircle of about fifteen young men with two figures circling in front of them. There was an occasional crack, hiss and burst of light as the two traded hexes.
Alice hurried to keep up with Snape's long strides.
A wizard a foot taller than the rest and older than Snape with strong shoulders, grey curls and bright green eyes raised his arm to stop the duel. The two sparring wizards lowered their wands.
"Professor Snape," he boomed, stepping across the wide lawn towards them. "You brought us an auror, and I don't have anything for you."
The recruits all shuffled and straightened at the sight of Snape, most of them looking nervous and a couple outwardly afraid.
"Mulciber," Snape replied, his voice low but carrying.
"She looks all ready to go," Mulciber added, looking Alice up and down. She met his striking eyes and immediately looked down again. "She's better wrapped up than our recruits, although she'll never learn proper caution with that grade three fireproof leather."
"Good, my intention is not to train her but keep her in one piece."
"Ha!" Mulciber barked. "Good luck with that. So I presume offering her as the prize for whoever gives the best today is off the table?"
Alice couldn't see Snape's expression, but Mulciber barked out another laugh and said in a low voice, "I heard about your tryst earlier. Apparently Greyback went back up North with his tails between his legs soon after."
"I'm sure Narcissa will be pleased," Snape replied. "I can still smell him in my suite."
Mulciber smirked. "I heard you defended the virtue of all the half bloods of Britain to him."
"Tell Fenrir there's one woman he can't rip to shreds and he'll whine about it for a fortnight," Snape muttered, his eyes scanning the group of recruits. "Speaking of the fairer sex, where are Miss Lavigne and Nott? This isn't a muggle war, we're not going to win with only men."
"In the South Conservatory. Miss Lavigne got a nasty burn hex across her midriff in this morning's melee." Mulciber raised his hand as if to placate Snape. "It was a fair casting by Mister Rathmore and he wasn't punished, but it's not healing well. And Nott…"
Alice noticed the boy closest to them, probably the only one who could hear the older wizards talking, grit his teeth and look straight ahead, the knuckles of his hand gripping his wand turning white. Alice took a small step to the side so that she could see both Mulciber and Snape.
"Nott was slipped a lust potion last night," Mulciber finished under his breath. Snape's lip curled back for a moment, but he said nothing. "Miss Sewlyn brought her to Witherington before anything happened."
"Who did it?" Snape asked, his voice low and even.
"We don't know. The lads say it was hers, that she took it voluntarily. 'Course she denies that."
"Does her father know?"
Mulciber smirked. "Not yet."
"Well, we can look forward to him finding out. Anyone you suspect?"
"Marchand, sir."
"I'll take him first."
Snape shrugged out of his cloak and threw it so that it flew with his magic and landed on a bench. He walked into the large circular paved area and Alice stepped to follow him, then hesitated, unsure. Snape raised his hand at her and gave Mulciber a look, and the tall wizard moved to stand in front of her. Alice looked down at her boots, her cheeks red. The two recruits who had been duelling hurried out of Snape's path and skipped into line with the others.
"Marchand," Snape snapped and a tall, dark-haired man around twenty, with sharp, refined features, stepped forward. He wore an easy smile on his face, but there was apprehension in his eyes.
"Nice Hufflepuff, sir," Marchand commented smoothly. There were one or two sniggers from the group which abruptly died when Snape replied,
"Based on your protego the other day, that Hufflepuff could probably take you, wandless, with a muggle hook to the jaw with her little fist."
More snickers erupted around the circle and Marchand jutted his jaw out as two spots of colour formed on his high, pale cheeks.
"Draw your wand," Snape ordered. The rest of the group took a few steps back and Mulciber took a step closer to Alice. Marchand glanced around himself in a way that implied to Alice that Snape didn't normally spar against the recruits one-on-one.
The two wizards bowed their heads. Then the duel finished before it began, as Marchand fell on his face from a silent hex from Snape, his silvery wand in the older wizard's grasp. Alice hadn't even seen Snape grab it, it was as though it had materialised in his grip.
Snape released Marchand from whatever body-bind he'd used and snapped, "Get up."
Marchand struggled to his feet, his nose gushing blood down his chest, clearly broken. Alice noticed a frisson of anxiety run through the recruits.
Snape threw Marchand his wand and the younger wizard pointed it at his own face, gritted his teeth and grunted, "Episkey". He hissed as his nose snapped back into place. Alice exhaled a shaky breath. The Death Eaters did not mess around when it came to training.
"Again," Snape ordered. This time, it took half a second before Marchand was on his back, his shirt having ridden up so that his white stomach was on display. The third time he broke his ankle in two places, but Snape didn't finish the duel, letting Marchand send off a few hexes from the ground. Eventually, he showed the younger wizard mercy and effortlessly took his wand from him, before immediately throwing it back.
"Mister Lansallos, help Marchand to the South Conservatory, that ankle needs to be seen by Professor Witherington."
Lansallos hurried towards Marchand and helped him to his feet. As they passed Snape, Alice heard the potions master murmur to the injured boy,
"I heard Miss Nott beat you in the ranked matchups yesterday. Perhaps you could congratulate her on my behalf when you see her in the South Conservatory."
Marchand visibly tensed, and Lansallos hurriedly dragged him away.
For the next two hours, Alice watched Snape spar with the recruits. Her legs ached and a dull fuzziness clouded her brain, but she tried to concentrate on every detail; names, ages, skill levels, duelling styles, attitudes, the recruits' interactions with each other; information that would be important when she reported back to Rebel Headquarters. If she ever got to.
Watching Snape duel as an arithmancer was frustrating because most of his spells were silent and his wand movements were small and quick. Often, Alice could only guess which spell he cast by the colour and sound it left in its wake, but unfortunately spell aftereffects weren't her forté, that kind of knowledge generally only came with years and years of duelling experience. Sometimes Snape spoke his incantations aloud, but Alice guessed that he mostly did so to educate rather than out of necessity.
"So, are you enjoying the second best suite in Malfoy Manor?"
Alice startled at Mulciber's words. She glanced at Snape, but he was several paces away, duelling four recruits at the same time. "Well, you look in good shape," Mulciber added. Alice's heart beat faster, desperately hoping the large Death Eater would stop talking to her. Mulciber glanced behind his shoulder at her, and followed her gaze to the potions professor. "I wouldn't cross him if I were you, or that might change."
Alice looked down at the shiny black duelling boots Snape had procured for her.
"So he forbade you from speaking to anyone. I doubt that included myself, but better safe than sorry, right?"
Alice bit her lip, meeting Mulciber's startling green eyes for a moment before glancing away.
"I knew your father, you know. Same year at Hogwarts. Slytherin had a house cup streak of five years because of him. Gods, but did he have Slughorn wrapped around his finger. And the other heads of house too, to be honest. Never a point taken from him, even when he hatched that ridgeback in the common room. And he always had the best fire whiskey. Everyone knew it, he didn't even sneak it in. I think he used to share it with bloody Slughorn himself."
Alice didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to hear that her Dad, who did all the voices when he read them stories and always hugged her mother first thing after coming home from work, had fraternised with all these ruthless men, had been friends with some of them.
"Anyway," Mulciber added. "Behave and do what Snape tells you and you'll-" Mulciber cleared his throat. "You'll be fine."
Alice grit her teeth and stared straight ahead.
The group had thinned, half a dozen recruits having limped away to the South Conservatory. The last two men, more similar in age to Alice, perhaps late twenties, stepped forward. One had dark features, with heavy eyelashes some women would kill for, and a sharp mouth that looked like it'd been haphazardly slashed across his strong jaw. The other had soft, dirty-blond hair, flitting effortlessly around his elegant face in the breeze, and as Alice took in his caramel eyes, her stomach dropped.
Noah?
The pain was sharp.
The memory of him sitting at the kitchen table with her mum, sipping tea and laughing, the morning sunshine glinting off his golden spectacles, him smiling that famous smile that promised you you were making his day better, hit Alice so hard she almost cried out.
Noah Birdwhistell had been Laura's boyfriend for just over two years. He'd been a guest at their London townhouse maybe twice. After that, when Alice would come home during the summer she would be happy but unsurprised to find Noah in the kitchen making coffee with Jackie's ferret running up and down his long arms. There was no ceremony to it, as there never is when a family absorbs a new member, it just happened.
Noah used to come with the four of them on their yearly trip to the south of Spain. Alice's mum had joked that he was the man of the family for the week, while Alice blushed, Laura rolled her eyes and Jackie giggled. Alice had spent many long days guilty eyeing his sculpted torso at the pool.
After graduating Hogwarts, Laura and Noah realised what the rest of them already knew, which was that they loved each other but weren't in love, and they'd decided to just be friends.
That was over a decade ago. Now Noah's golden spectacles were gone. So was the smile.
He wasn't looking at Alice, but surely he recognised her.
How could you? Alice wanted to scream, but instead she looked down, her hands in tight fists.
Her stomach stewing with Noah's betrayal, Alice watched the three men face each other with begrudging curiosity. Noah was a Ravenclaw, like Laura, and in typical Ravenclaw fashion, he had always made up for whatever aspects of the current skill he was pursuing which didn't happen to come naturally to him with wit and sculpted precision. It was the same with his duelling.
It was obvious that Snape respected the Ravenclaw and his companion more than their cohorts. He adopted a more traditional, sturdy stance, and immediately erected several layers of strong shields, most of which were invisible, but Alice read his wand movements and knew they were there. They started to spar, and it was clear that Noah and the other darker wizard could anticipate each other's every move like two wolves who'd taken down hundreds of prey together. After five minutes, the longest duel of the session, all three of them were panting, and a trickle of blood was running over Snape's thin lips, but the potions professor had Noah and his colleague's wands in hand.
"Birdwhistell, you missed my impact bulwark under the protego, which is why that melee jinx ricocheted and hit Ratcliffe," Snape stated, his voice even despite his heavy breathing. "Ratcliffe, that psychosis hex could prove fruitful in the future, but needs to be pronounced until you become proficient at it."
"Yes sir," Ratcliffe replied.
"Thank you, sir," Noah added.
The deference in their voices was striking, especially since Snape only had a couple of years on them. Alice knew that Slughorn had taught Laura for her first three years, so Snape had only been Noah's professor for four years. Alice remembered laughing with Noah about Snape's long cloak. "The cloak of doom", they'd dubbed it.
Was it possible Noah had not recognised her? If he did, would he say something? What could he possibly say?
Angry tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes.
How could he?
Mulciber dismissed the remaining recruits, and as they trod away, Snape and Mulciber exchanged words, leaving Alice standing awkwardly away from everyone else. A young wizard, who couldn't have been older than sixteen, was limping heavily, and Mulciber stopped talking to Snape to lean down on one knee and look him over.
The potions professor turned and Alice saw his left torso was partially exposed due to a deep tear in his clothing. Thick white scars stood out starkly in the daylight and the wind chill had left his skin goose pimpled. Alice looked up to his face and was startled to find his dark eyes watching her. He roughly rubbed the blood off his lips with the back of his hand.
Alice flicked her eyes to Noah, who was using his wand to stitch a gash over Ratcliffe's eye. Suddenly, she was painfully anxious that he would make her connection to him known. That he'd ridicule her family. Her mother.
"Ratcliffe, go to the South Conservatory, you might feel fine, but that equiperturbe will repeat on you," Snape said in a crisp voice which carried over the lawn. "Birdwhistell, watch over the girl for me while I discuss Mister Betterworth's injuries with Mulciber."
No.
Noah was coming towards her, wearing a cruel smirk.
"So, how did a little Hufflepuff arithmancer end up following around the Dark Lord's second in command?"
He still had freckles dashed over his nose and cheeks, the little brown splashes wobbling behind Alice's tears.
She didn't say anything.
"Wow, silence. That's a rarity from a Duclos girl."
She stared straight ahead, gritted her teeth hard.
"How's your mum?"
That did it. Alice lurched forward, a growl ripping out of her as her hands swung wildly up at him, but he caught her forearms and she fell against him, jerking her knees up, unable to land a blow.
"How could you!?" she snarled. "You bastard! How could you? Who are you!?" Her blood pumped through her head, fat, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Woah, easy there, tiger," Noah chuckled, pushing her backwards with a hand on her waist and shoulder.
Alice wrenched at her limbs, but they were stuck, her legs to the ground and her arms to the air beside her as if with superglue. Hot twinges of pain shot up her muscles as she yanked ferociously at them.
"Miss Duclos," Snape's drawl drifted over to her as he strode towards them. Alice somehow knew from the rich, smooth texture of the magic against her skin that it was he who'd bound her. "Clearly, your ability to follow basic instructions has not improved since your schooling. I forbid you from speaking unless given explicit permission. Obviously, it was shortsighted of me to not also forbid you from physical assault."
Noah said nothing, but his eyes glittered with amusement. Alice bit her lip so hard she knew it would throb all day.
"Next time my charge gives you trouble, Mister Birdwhistell, you may use your wand to subdue her," Snape added.
"Yes, sir," Noah replied with a smirk.
Alice's cheeks were piping hot.
Snape hadn't repaired his clothes, but he'd conjured a white vest underneath them.
"Finite," he murmured. Alice gasped and tripped forward. "Come." He turned towards the manor. Alice sent Noah a murderous glare before following. She roughly rubbed at her wet face, hanging back a pace or two so Snape wouldn't hear her sniffle.
Several wizards and witches in their late twenties were chatting in the entrance hall, impeccably dressed with high, richly embroidered collars and fitted undercoats, the latest couture of wizarding society. They parted upon seeing Snape enter, backing up towards the walls, their gazes lowered, and murmured deferential greetings.
The potions professor said nothing as he swept past. Alice followed close behind, her head down, too anxious to examine their faces to see if she recognised any of them from Hogwarts.
They headed down a spiral staircase and Alice's anxiety increased with each step. The potions master had always inspired respect and fear, but the group's reaction was a potent reminder that only recently, the man had murdered the most powerful wizard in Great Britain. The past week, Alice had been afraid and anxious, but she'd also gotten used to reading interesting books in a sumptuous bed, eating delicious-if sporadic-food and having long, hot showers. Now, looking up at the tall black-clad figure walking in front of her, she felt sick. If You-Know-Who were to win, it would be because of Snape's first fatal blow.
After a long corridor, a heavy wooden door swung open at their approach. Behind it there was a vast cellar. A fruity acrid smell hung in the air which told Alice it had been a winery until recently. Now, rows of cauldrons filled the vault. They were mostly a dull pewter, but spots of copper, silver and even gold glittered in the dim.
"Prewett, place the stewing basilisk essence under a strong stasis, Macmillan needs you to administer the purging potion on some compromised wands," Snape ordered.
A cauldron looked up, and Alice saw it was actually a small man wearing a strange helmet, similar to a vintage muggle diving suit. The strange man, who was stirring a thick red potion, nodded, and briskly got to work unfastening his many protective garments.
"Professor?" A man with white-blond hair and grey eyes had entered from a door to the back, having to duck under the mantel because of his incredible height. The door led to a greenhouse with plants and a complicated series of mirrors, set up as though to direct sunlight.
"Woodvine, the loquitflos began their seasonal chanting last night. I require at least three baskets worth, preferably five."
"Yes, sir, right away."
Woodvine was wearing a gardener's apron, with various tools and clippers hung onto it.
"Take Birdwhistell with you again. I'm still not confident in the security of the greater woodland estate."
"Yes, sir."
Alice grit her teeth at the mention of Noah. Woodvine's small eyes flicked towards her before he left the way he had come.
"Grab a pair of dragonhide gloves which fit and chop ten ounces of valerian root," Snape ordered. Alice looked around, praying he wasn't talking to her, but there didn't seem to be anyone else left in the vault. Her heart fell. She'd literally had this nightmare before, years after leaving Hogwarts, wherein she had to brew a potion but she didn't know which potion while Snape stood over her, judging.
Alice was concentrating on her chopping and startled as Snape dropped a heavy book onto the workbench beside her. Its pages flew backwards, stopping at page 639- Thistlewort's General Lust Potion Prophylactic.
"Substitute the kiwi seeds for persimmon, otherwise, follow those steps exactly," Snape instructed.
Fuck
Alice hadn't brewed in years. Her hands were shaking.
"Sir, I don't-"
"Just follow the steps."
"I haven't-"
"I'm about to brew a potion of great importance for the Dark Lord, I suggest you do not disturb me."
Without another word, he strode to the other side of the cellar and continued brewing the potion the man with the helmet had been tending to.
Alice hesitated before reading the instructions. She was about to brew a potion for You-Know-Who's right hand man. It was one thing to be his prisoner, but another thing to help him. If it were a different potion, she'd have to decide whether she was brave enough to sabotage it, but Alice didn't see how messing up a lust potion blocker was worth the risk, or even morally justifiable.
Did Snape really care about the women under his command? Or was he just worried about the political fallout of such incidents? After all, when Mulciber told him about Nott, the first thing he'd asked was if her father knew.
Snape prepared some of the more difficult ingredients, like crystalised sunshine and broiled strawberry seeds, but otherwise he ignored her. Thankfully, everything in the laboratory was meticulously labelled, and the first dozen steps or so went smoothly.
Alice was carrying a board of chopped lychees over to the hissing cauldron when she froze.
It was hissing. It wasn't supposed to hiss.
Her eyes darted over the instructions. Stir five times. Not ten. Fuck. Why had she thought it was ten?
She glanced over at the potions professor. He was extracting the venom from a squirming insect that looked like a large cockroach with a scorpion tail.
Alice's hands shook as she placed the lychees on the bench.
A smell of burning tar had spread from the potion he was working on, oily and smokey and so acrid that her eyes were stinging.
Alice desperately didn't want to tell him that she'd made such a stupid mistake.
She pushed the heels of her hands hard into her eyes, racking her brain. She had to reverse the effect of the extra stirs before Snape found out.
Her foot was tapping, thrumming with nervous energy, and she shakily grabbed a knife and continued chopping. She had to act normal. Unlike Snape had implied, she hadn't bribed anyone to earn her Exceeds Expectations in potions. She could remember how to do this.
She chewed her lip.
She hadn't lit the cauldron, but it was boiling, with steam that smelt like lilies rising in playful swirls, which meant the potion was a part of the incandescent family. That meant that adding five drops of cold water would reverse five clockwise stirs. Although the potion base was brewed mint leaves, which implied the potion was magi-botanical, and if that was the case, she needed to add five white rose petals instead.
The hot steam was clinging to her hair, making her forehead sticky.
No. It was incandescent. First you check if the potion was spell cast, transformative or incandescent, and only if it wasn't one of those three could it be magi-botanical or magic-zoological. Wasn't that what Snape had barked repeatedly at her lab partner Tom Goldsmith in final year?
Alice used a dropper to add the cold water, the potion swirling rapidly as the drops hit the surface.
In the end, she needed Snape for the last step, which required a wand. She waited until he was clearing his workstation before approaching him.
"It's done?" he asked without preamble.
"Yes sir. It just needs a setting charm."
He removed his dragon-hide gloves as he strode over to the potion. It was salmon-pink, not lilac like the instructions said it should be, but maybe that was because she had substituted persimmon seeds for kiwi like he'd asked her to.
Alice's heart beat so hard she wondered if Snape could hear it.
He bottled the potion into two dozen phials using a syphoning charm. Then he handed Alice one.
She hesitated before taking it.
So he was going to use her to make sure the potion worked. That made sense. It wasn't like he'd ever had much faith in her potioneering skills. She wondered what lust potion he'd use to test it.
"Should I drink it now?" Her voice came out in a whisper.
Snape didn't look up from the leger he was marking as he replied, "It lasts three months."
His answer confused her. Did that mean he wasn't going to test the potion right away? Her hands shook as she began to pull the stopper out.
He glanced at her and paused as though only realising something. He cleared his throat.
"Unless you'd prefer not to."
Of course she didn't want to test it. It'd be humiliating if she'd brewed it incorrectly and whatever lust potion he gave her took effect. She could only guess how she would act, at the dark desires she might confess to. Her blood pounded in her head.
"I have no intention of letting anyone hurt you."
Alice looked up at him, confused.
"However, it is always preferable to maintain a level head beyond enemy lines. Lust potions aren't an escape. They just defer the pain and later compound it."
His voice was low, steady, and gentle-almost. For a moment it was like he was on her side, like Williamson murmuring to her during training, assuring her that her protego would get stronger over time.
Then Alice understood; Snape thought she was hesitating because she didn't want the protection the potion offered. She flushed, a weird feeling swelling low in her stomach.
"You're not giving me this to test it. You're giving it to me just to… give it to me."
"You thought I was going to test it on you?" Snape looked at her with narrowed eyes. "With a lust potion?"
Alice nodded. He went back to writing numbers in his potions leger.
"Do I need to?" His voice was sterner now.
She should say no, so he wouldn't get angry, the potion was bottled now, which meant if she'd made a mistake there was no way for him to fix it, but Alice didn't want witches to think they were protected when they weren't. Even Death Eater witches. She hesitated.
Snape didn't say anything. He put away the leger, organised the lab with a few well-practised spells, and walked over to a metal trunk high on a shelf. He levitated it down, using a whispered charm to unlock the large padlocks snaking around it. Alice saw a glint of red as he pocketed a small vial. Then they left the vault.
A/N Please let me know what you think so far. Reviews encourage me to write ;)