Laboratory

Chapter 4: Laboratory

Hermione Granger was furious. Evil doers were going unpunished. Worse, they were being given respectable positions. And the sticky icing on this bitter cake was that she was a part of the whole charade.

Pansy Parkinson was ready to spit nails. Her plans for revenge and prosperity had been derailed. Worse, everyone else was happy about it. The cherry with a stone in it on top of this hot-fudged sundae was that the plan required her participation. And she was supposed to smile.

Padma Patil was a bit chafed. At work, she had told people she admired Emil and Severus for their work in medicinal potions. Her supervisors had seized upon the opportunity to assign her to audit the accounts of the research lab. Even though it inhabited the same building as the hospital, it was funded separately, and all previous auditors had avoided examining the bookkeeping mess that two researchers could make.

In addition, her supervisor had called her into his office and said, "You showed great initiative in volunteering to audit the researchers."

"I did?" replied Padma, not remembering any volunteering on her part.

"Yes, commendable. Because of that, you've been assigned to monitor the records for the recently formed dragon corps. If you can deal with researchers, then dragon-riding rowdies should be no problem. We know we can expect the highest performance from you."

Her personal life wasn't any better. She and a longtime family friend had finally been pressured into announcing an engagement. The two of them declared it would be a long one. The younger members of both families applauded the civilized decorum and restraint. The grandparents and great grandparents, while publicly pleased at their rationality, expressed a different opinion among themselves. Where was the passion? Where was the youthful flaunting of common sense? Where was the fire? At any rate, Padma now wore an engagement ring.

"Congratulations," said Severus and Emil as the three were having afternoon tea in a shop close to the lab.

"Are you certain you can socialize with the people you're auditing?" asked Severus.

"I'm working on lowering your guard," said Padma. "I will learn all your secrets."

"Oh no," said Emil. "Our absinthe distillery in the back room isn't safe anymore."

Padma was exasperated. "I already know about that, and don't you dare dismantle it until I've sampled your next batch."

"Let us rephrase things," said Emil. "A little socializing might be conducive to efficient performance."

Padma had expected the two to be constantly and completely engrossed with the lab equipment, but the two spent considerable time at their desks devising charts for the chemical interactions, and they weren't the dour and cranky recluses she had imagined. After an intense week in which she imagined they were concocting a cure for some malady, they approached her with a pomegranate seed and a beaker of liquid,

"You put the seed in your mouth and drop in the fluid," said Emil.

"Now we wait," said Emil

Two days later, she arrived to find the beaker had grown a flower. Its scent enveloped her. She placed it in her hair. When Emil and Severus appeared and greeted her, they took one look and stepped back, speechless.

"What if I placed the seed in a more intimate place before dropping it in the fluid?" asked Padma.

"A bold lady," said Severus.

Emil looked into the distance and managed to whisper, "The result would tempt anyone beyond what a mortal frame could bear."

Padma put her hand on his upper arm. "Sounds interesting."

The next few days saw Padma arriving with her hair brushed to a gloss, wearing shorter skirts, and smiling at Emil. He was gradually drawn into conversations with her until the day she talked about her engagement and the different reactions of her relatives to which he said, "The mature remember the pain caused by impetuosity. The old recall the loss of not acting."

He's more than a brilliant scientist, thought Padma, but the days stretched on and he became no more than friendly to her. The regret of not acting, thought Padma as she began neglecting her hair and clothes and the bookkeeping changed from interesting to dreary. The day came when she looked up from her desk and snapped.

"Emil, this is a mess. It's worse than a mess. I can't even make a mess to clean up out of what you have."

Emil, brave man, entered the lair of the dragon saying, "Not to worry. I can make a mess on the spot."

Padma glared at him. "Yes, put your creative mind to work, except you don't make a mess, you make an empty, barren wasteland. You've done to the paperwork what you've doing to my life."

"Is that your life?" he asked. "Whatever it is, we must celebrate it."

Paperwork is the cruelest task, breeding

Rage out of the mildest soul, mixing

Creation and scrutiny, stirring

Old failures with precise numbers.

Padma smiled. "Your poetic bent is not going to save you."

"Of course not," he said.

Well, don't stop there," she said. "Can't you go on?"

Padma kept us safe, covering

Our lapses with inspired bookkeeping, feeding

A little hope with a great figure.

"Out," she said. "Out."

Emil backed out carefully, but when he and Severus dared glance back in, they saw her primping in her compact's mirror, and when she appeared the next morning, her hair was in a sporting-looking pony tail.

Days later, however, no one had fluffed her pony tail, and she was tapping her pencil at numbers she wasn't really seeing. I'm engaged, she reminded herself. She bent her will to the task at hand. He's treating me like a virtuous lady, she told herself. The pencil snapped.

The air was crackling as Severus announced he needed a coffee. He dallied for a while over a cup before deciding he should see if either of his two friends needed medical attention. He approached the lab cautiously. Emil was in the office they had given Padma, but whatever they had said, she was giving him a soft look and approaching him. His arms were around her. He was stroking her hair as he held her. Severus thought she was crying. He held her for a long time before drying her tears. They kissed and returned to work.

The next day, Emil was helping Padma with the receipts. She was listening to stories from his life and nodding. Severus watched as she crossed the line. It's dangerous offering understanding to a middle-aged man.

It was mid afternoon when Severus announced he had errands to run and left the lab. When he reached the street, he remembered he had left his list in his desk drawer. He was telling himself it was an honest mistake and not Nagini venom surging through him as he quietly retraced his steps. He opened the door enough to see Padma with her arm across Emil's shoulders as he bottled his last result. Saw Emil stand and gently embrace Padma who grabbed him with all the hunger of her neglected years. Saw her pressed against the wall. Saw Emil Fassbinder's aura flare through all the colors as her tongue probed deep. Saw her fingers splayed as she enveloped her Emil. The forgotten engagement ring flashing its last.

Padma took Emil's hands and placed them on her breasts. "Gently, sweetheart," she said.

He was.

Padma luxuriated in the attention. She wanted more. She guided his hand to between her legs. "Do you mind, darling?" she asked.

He didn't.

She was nibbling his lips as his hand roamed under her skirt. She was sighing, "Oh, yes," when his hand found her sensitive spot.

As she wove at his touch, he whispered, "Make love to me."

She did.

She was all giving all over him. She was all clumsy with affection. He could not ask for anything better. He never would. Only for more. Her affection became desperate. Her fingers clawing at him. Her stillness.

His eyes were wild. Emil waltzing Padma to the edge of the desk. Her skirt up. Pushing her knickers down. Padma on the desk, her legs up. Her demure look as Emil pushed into her.

Severus had a vision. Twenty years from now, a more mature Padma would be even more beautiful. And she would be even more willing and more loving with her one and only Emil.

Shapely legs wrapped around Emil. Gasping and sloppy wet -- the sound of Padma.

Severus decided he didn't really need the list. Hermione had returned to a normal life and could buy her own fruits and vegetables. He could entice Pansy into another evening of sampling London street food.