Chapter 9: Birthday Presents

Author's Note: I know it's been a terribly long time between updates. Life really does get in the way, but for those still reading, rest assured I will finish this story at some point. Rosetta has been with me a long time and I owe it to her to complete her tale.

Chapter 9: Birthday Presents

The myth of the hidden magical scrolls had certainly fired up Rosetta's imagination. It took her back to being a rookie eighteen-year-old Treasure Hunter for Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The cerebral challenge, decoding the clues, putting all of the pieces together... that's what excited Rosetta. And then the Curse Breakers swanned in and claimed the treasure and glory for their own, she remembered bitterly. The unfairness still stuck in her craw like a piece of unchewed bread. Well, not this time. This time, she had a treasure all of her own. She just needed to kick this awful flu so she could dedicate herself to finding some answers.

The end of September seemed to rush past in a blur of books and mist, with vicious colds and flu spreading around the castle. A particularly virulent form of flu had knocked Rosetta for six and she'd had to cancel two day's worth of lessons. Rosetta's birthday coincided with St Matthew's Day, and spending it in her bedroom with nothing but Pomona's home-made Welsh Cakes and a bottle of Pepper-Up Potion for company was not how she'd envisioned celebrating her thirtieth. Her ears were still steaming gently well into the late evening from the medicine, which hadn't helped make her feel that much better in all honesty, and she was about to turn in for the night when she heard a polite rap at the door. The last thing she needed right now was company, especially feeling grotty and with smoking ears, but she made herself open the door.

To her surprise, a house-elf dressed in a toga bearing the Hogwarts crest stood looking up at her with it's big orb-like eyes. In it's hands it was carrying a package wrapped in what looked to be black crushed velvet.

"For Professor Stone," the elf squeaked, "With fond regards from Professor Dumbledore."

The elf raised it's arms for her to take the package, which she did carefully, and then it promptly ran away up the corridor giggling, the sound of its bare feet padding on the wooden floors.

Rosetta carried the package inside. The size and weight of it felt like a book. Sitting on the bed, she slowly unwrapped the velvet. Inside one corner was tucked a piece of yellow parchment with Dumbledore's familiar neat, loopy handwriting.

Something to read, and something to keep you warm.

The velvet turned out to be a beautiful scarf, thick and rich and sumptuous. It almost seemed to shimmer. Rosetta let her hands glide over the material. It felt expensive. And then her attention turned to the book. It looked very old indeed, but was in good condition for all that. The black leather was slightly cracked in places and there was gold leaf on the edges of the pages and inlaid in the embossed lettering on the cover, which read:

Archidoxis magica by Paracelsus

Rosetta took a sharp breath in as she flipped open the pages. It was a translated copy as the text was in English but this was one of Paracelsus' rarest books – there wasn't even a complete copy in the Hogwarts Library, only tattered fragments. How Dumbledore had got hold of such a pristine copy she would never know. She could only speculate at the cost of such a valuable grimoire.

Indeed, this text was more than just a ostentatious gift – this book described the Alphabet of the Magi, and she realised that Dumbledore must have given it to her as a keystone to unravel the myth Cuthbert Binns had revealed to them.

No sooner had she'd had that thought, there was a small tapping on the window. Rosetta certainly wasn't expecting any more birthday cards. Puzzled, she ventured to the window and saw a Tawny owl being buffeted slightly by the wind as it perched on the sill. She opened the window a crack and the owl hopped in, shaking it's feathers as if to get rid of the chill and then stuck it's leg out to Rosetta. Tied to its leg was a small pouch, which she hastily unfastened.

"Thank you, little owl." The owl allowed her to stroke it's head a few times before climbing back on to the window sill with a screech; it was clear the owl didn't want to hang around. Rosetta let the owl go and sat on the bed again, clutching the pouch.

The pouch was made of silky dark green brocade. She prised it open and found a miniature rolled-up scroll of parchment and a small vial of milky-blue liquid. Unfurling the scroll, she read:

This remedy is far more effective in treating influenza than Pepper-Up Potion.

Rosetta stared at the scroll in utter shock. The writing was precise with spiky, long strokes. The colour green on the pouch, the almost superior-sounding potion expertise in the note... this had to have come from Professor Snape. But why? Was it a trick? Was he trying to poison her? She unscrewed the top of the vial and took a sniff. It smelled like menthol and just the smell alone sent a wonderful cooling sensation through her. Not poison then, she reasoned. But the motive for such a kind action from the surly Head of Slytherin was beyond her. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to dislike her intensely. Perhaps he was under orders from Dumbledore to aid her recovery so she could start researching the myth sooner. That would make sense, and certainly explained the lack of pleasantries in the curt note.

With a swift action, she downed the liquid and straight away the cooling sensation trickled down into every part of her, which was soon to be replaced by a soothing warmth. It made her feel very cosy, and she immediately had the urge to sleep. She climbed into bed fully clothed, and by the time the covers were over her and her head hit the pillow she had fallen into a deep and dreamless slumber.

o0o

When she awoke the following morning, she felt like a new woman. Mercifully, she didn't have any lessons until after lunch so had some time to get her head together, but still she rose early: she had people to thank for unexpected birthday gifts. She wrote little thank you notes to Albus and Pomona, and left them in their staff pigeon holes. But Snape was someone she wanted to speak to face-to-face. She was genuinely grateful for the miraculous potion and wanted to let her feelings be known. Perhaps it would clear the air between them, get rid of all that strange atmosphere whenever they were in each other's presence. Maybe she would get the measure of the man and glimpse the reason for Dumbledore's unwavering trust in him.

She made her way down to the Dungeons and hovered outside his classroom. She knew from previous experience and avoidance tactics that sometimes in the mornings he would come down early to check Potion supplies, finish off his marking and prepare the classroom, and she hoped she had chosen the right day for his diligence. Taking a deep breath, she raised her fist and rapped smartly on the old wooden door.

"Enter."

Rosetta did as she was bade, and slipped into the room. Snape did not look up from his parchment as he was enthusiastically scribbling away, apparently deep in concentration. Probably grading some poor fool with a T, she thought to herself as she watched him dip his quill into the inkwell and continue his frantic scrawls.

After a few moments, when it became clear he wasn't in any hurry to greet his guest, Rosetta ventured, "Good morning, Professor."

At this, Snape raised his head, but did not put down his quill. If he was surprised to see her, he hid it very well.

"Professor Stone. May I assist you in some way?"

Rosetta hesitated. "No. Well, you already have. I came to thank you, for the Flu Potion last night."

"There is no need to thank me," he replied, expertly brushing off her gratitude. "One of my duties as Potions Master is to ensure the school is fully stocked with appropriate medicines. Professor Dumbledore has to make sure his staff are fit and healthy."

Perhaps the instruction for the medicine came from Dumbledore after all, Rosetta thought. "Well it worked brilliantly. I feel so much better."

"I wouldn't be much of a Potions Master if it didn't work, would I? Is there anything else you wanted?" His tone was all bored sarcasm as he dipped his quill once more and continued to write.

This was going all wrong. Why was he so prickly? All she wanted to do was express her thanks and she couldn't even do that without him sniping at her. Rosetta felt her gratitude twisting into indignation and she couldn't stop what came out of her mouth next.

"Do you always have to be such a prick? I only came in here to thank you for making me feel better."

Snape's face remained impassive, but this time he put down the quill. "I'd have thought such insults were below you, Professor."

Rosetta sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry. It's just... It's clear that you don't like me, and haven't from the very moment I started teaching here. And I don't know why! I don't know what I've done to make you hate me so much."

Snape stood and walked slowly around his desk, his black teaching robes flaring out behind him, until he was standing directly in front of Rosetta, towering over her.

"I think it's time for you to leave."

His voice was dangerously low in volume, but Rosetta stood her ground.

"Just tell me what I've done, and I'll go."

Without warning, Snape grabbed Rosetta's wrist and pulled her towards him, bending his head towards her and fixing his eyes on hers. She was too shocked to scream, suddenly transfixed by the sheer blackness of his eyes. It was like staring into the abyss. It took a moment before she realised he was performing Legilimency on her; it felt like deft fingers were rooting through her mind, searching for something. It wasn't painful, but it was an odd sensation. It took all her mental strength to propel him from her mind. He flinched and let her go as if burned.

Rosetta's heart was hammering in her chest and the fury spilled out of her. The ends of her hair started to crackle with rage. "How dare you touch me? Do that again and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

"I think it's time for you to leave," he said once more after a moment, but this time more softly.

She glared at him, breathing heavily for a few moments, adrenaline coming from every pore, before spinning on her heel and slamming the door behind her. She never got to see the look of sorrow in the Potion Master's eyes.