Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling!

A/N: I relied heavily upon Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them for this chapter. Nearly everything in this chapter relating to Ashwinder serpents came directly from that book. Anything that didn't was not touched on, so I felt at liberty to create as I so desired.

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The tall trees were ruffling their leaves, and the animals were scurrying about the countryside. The noon sun was bathing the coastal landscape, unfettered by the scattered wisps of cloud that were insignificantly strewn across its blue palate.

He glanced out of the large bay window across the study. Sweet heaven, it looked like a beautiful day outside. A perfect day to go to La Serra Dulce Lunga ...

Severus attempted to clear his mind. Technically, his favored source for ingredients was called La Serra Dulce e Lunga, but the e was frequently dropped. Grammatical practicality was no match for the beautiful flow of a romance language, Severus knew. Especially in Italy. His English colleagues would scoff at many of the slack practices of the Italian magical community, but even he could admit that La Serra Dulce Lunga rolled off the tongue in a particularly pleasing manner ...

Stop, he firmly told himself. A year ago in England, he wouldn't have thought twice about going out for ingredients when there was work to be done. Of course, the lackluster papers of his pupils had been replaced with the inquiries and requests of his fellow masters and mistresses. The intelligent notes and letters did not frequently require immediate attention, unlike the regular deadlines of midterms and ...

Oh, to hell with it.

He was quickly off his feet, striding across the study and out into the hall, his black silk robe billowing behind him. He had realized long ago that he did not require an audience to make a grand entrance. By now, he did not even realize that he made one.

Upon entrance to the high, vaulted chambers of his bedroom, he discarded the robe, flinging it across the bed. He reached into his closet, pulling out one of many crisp, collared white shirts. He wore white and black, also dark green and navy. Ahh, the variety, he thought wryly, rapidly buttoning the shirt. He slipped a pair of black pants over the green boxers, and strode out of his room as quickly as he had come in.

The entryway to the villa held all of his shoes. Nearly all, at any rate. The sturdy, harsh, dragon-hide boots he wore in his lab were housed in his lab closet, along with many duplicates. In his entryway, however, one found loafers, sneakers of the Muggle variety, and even sandals. He slid on a pair of sturdy Birkenstock sandals (courtesy of Hogwarts' Muggle Studies professor, Johnny Wellington) and Apparated out of the villa.

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He arrived on a large, green patch of cleared field. It always reminded him of Hogwarts' Quidditch Pitch. La Serra Dulce Lunga sat on at least twelve acres of land – the actual greenhouse took up around three, by Severus' estimate. There were exotic trees, plants, and animal beds as far as the eye could see. It was an extensive collection, to be sure. It was the only place in Italy that one could go for potions ingredients of every variety – one needn't visit an apothecary, and a greenhouse, and an animal specialist; a witch or wizard in need only had to come to this place to get all three.

The charm work always impressed him. He knew that these twelve acres, secluded in the outskirts of Naples, were charmed to keep stray Muggles away. There were also breeds of tropical plants and certain animal wildlife that required daily charm work to ensure their survival in the Mediterranean climate. Severus was certain that even this cleared patch of shimmering green grass had had work done. Glancing to his left, he noted the glistening stream that encircled the three acres of greenhouse building. There were many species of enchanted fish living in that stream, and Snape knew that Neville kept a large portion of the stream reserved for gillyweed growth.

Severus kept walking towards the large greenhouse. Its exterior was enchanted to look like an ivory silk tent, and the said walls seemed to be billowing out around the large, oak frame. When he was barely twenty feet from the entrance, he saw the ex-pupil in question come out of the greenhouse with a beautiful, blonde older woman. Kissing her on both cheeks, the tall young man wished his patroness a fair afternoon. The lady Apparated, and Snape saw Neville smile, running a hand through his hair.

"Not too busy this afternoon I hope, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville turned. "Professor Snape!" He smiled warmly, reaching out to shake hands with his approaching ex-professor. After so many exchanges, the men hardly realized how absolutely ludicrous the scene would look to a visitor from the Hogwarts days.

Every Order member knew that war changed people, and it changed their relationships. Three years of fighting had forced the fear from Neville's heart, and caused Snape to realize that outside of a Potions laboratory, Neville Longbottom was a truly remarkable young man. His purity of spirit and devotion to his cause had left Snape with a somewhat envious awe over his ex-pupil. Similarly, Neville had slowly come to comprehend the precarious and all-too-dangerous line that his professor had walked those years at Hogwarts. He respected Snape's brilliance, and the two men had slowly developed a silent camaraderie leading up to the Final Battle.

The bonds developed during the war, of course, were still based on the harsh, slightly humorous reality of daily life. Neville still held, undisputedly, the highest record for melted cauldrons in Snape's classroom. Severus had been viewed as the greasy bat of the dungeons (albeit, a greasy bat with an Order of Merlin, First Class) up until the day he left Hogwarts. However, their past had become a source of light amusement over the past year.

Despite Hermione Granger's brilliance, Neville Longbottom had been the undisputed expert on Herbology in his class. During the war, his passion had expanded into a love for the uses of natural phenomena (such as different varieties of enchanted water) and animal specimens. His culminating academic papers on different combinations of herbs, plants, spices, and animal parts (such as unicorn hair) had caught the rabid attention of an infamous Italian contessa. Allegra Rossi was the reigning matriarch of the Rossi clan – the Italian equivalent of the Malfoys, sans the dark arts fascination. Allegra had nieces and nephews aplenty, but no children of her own to share in her passion for the enchanted twelve acres of Neapolitan landscape that she used to nurture various exotic plants and species. She had invited Neville to visit her and her various colleagues to discuss his research. She had been so impressed with his academic vision for the herbology field that she had offered him the twelve acres, plus funding, on the spot.

No one in the Order had ever seen Neville so happy in his life. He had moved to Naples shortly after the war's end, and had begun setting up the greenhouse and ordering various varieties of plant life and animal species. Allegra's wealth rivaled the royals of Muggle Europe, and Neville's every idea was satisfied by her pocketbook. The greenhouse – if it could be called that, it was really a plantation of the finest caliber – had opened barely six months ago. It had quickly developed a reputation across the continent as having the most extensive collection of ingredients in Europe. Potions masters and mistresses frequented La Serra Dulce Lunga, as did professors, researchers, and collectors from every nook and cranny of the region.

Neville delighted in all his customers, but most of all in his former professor. He was extremely delighted with his professor's compliments, and was flattered when Severus had informed him that he was now coming to Neville almost exclusively for his ingredients.

"What are you in the market for, today?" Neville crossed his arms across his broad chest.

"Ashwinder eggs," Severus snorted.

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Brewing love potions, Professor?"

"You must be joking."

"Hardly. They're illegal in the Mediterranean, you know."

"But not for research purposes."

"Oh, it's for research, is it?" Neville was fighting the urge to laugh.

"Unlike many members of my gender, Mr. Longbottom, I have never resorted to brewing illicit potions to entice the female sex." Severus narrowed his eyes, enjoying the debate. "Nor have I ever purchased one from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," he added non-chalantly.

Neville practically choked. "You know we only used the 24-hour potion on Ron just to ..."

"All due respect, Mr. Longbottom, I'm not eager to hear how seventh-years justified the use of Weasley's Draught of Red Hot Love."

Both men burst out laughing, great belly-roars that drew the attention of several employees working by the stream.

"Ashwinder eggs, you say," Neville said, opening the door for Snape. The two men walked into the vast structure. There were rows of shelves for what seemed like miles and hundreds of hanging plants that floated above them. Various baskets of herbs and oils lined the walls. The herbs and assortment of both common and uncommon ingredients comprised the tallest, broadest section of the building. The two other offshoots on either side were smaller; one for rare and exotic ingredients, the other for animal parts.

Neville led him to the left side of the greenhouse where they walked across at least an acre of building before reaching a charmed, protected door that Severus had never seen before. Neville waved his hand over the heavy oak door where a series of white and blue sparks flashed to verify his handprint (an interesting combination of charms and divination work, Severus thought).

"Come on in." Neville flashed an inviting smile. Severus obliged.

He walked into an array of light. The white marble floor contrasted with the burst of colors. In one corner of the room, Severus noted shelves illuminated in yellow warmth. The opposite corner held baskets that were surrounded by an icy blue glow. Another corner was as white as snow, with steam reminiscent of Muggle dry ice coming off of its transparent box.

"It's a freezer," Neville commented, noting the direction of Severus' attention. "A useful Muggle contraption for keeping things cold. The penguin eggs and feathers need to remain chilled, far more than the ocean temperatures," he said, gesturing to the blue corner, "and the freezer does the trick. Allegra is very knowledgeable about Muggle things."

Severus' eyes quickly swept over the remaining corner, which, colorless, suggested that the shelved contents were kept at room temperature.

In the very center of the room, there was a tall, glassy structure. "Fireproof," Neville said, walking towards it.

Severus walked with Neville towards the impressive contraption. "Charmed?" he asked.

"Nothing can get in or out without my say-so."

"Fantastic," Severus murmured, walking around the tall, rectangular structure.

The glassy panes were flaming red – blood red, in fact ...

"A magical fire?" Severus asked, his mind working at why Neville would authorize such dangerous occurrences in his greenhouse.

Neville smiled broadly as the fire raged.

"Good God, boy!" Severus exclaimed, suddenly understanding. "You're not ..."

"Creating our own Ashwinder serpents, yes."

"You're either very brave or very stupid."

"Incredibly intelligent, actually."

Severus snorted, which Neville took as a compliment. There were no other greenhouses in the world that could boast their own Ashwinder breeding facilities.

"We employ expert snake handlers and pyrotechnics to handle it, of course," Neville said. "This particular compartment, as I said, is fireproof, charmed, practically indestructible. Our fires are perfectly contained, and there is no magical being that could break this thing from the inside."

Severus watched in awe as two men entered the room from a side door – two of the said snake handlers, he presumed. They waved their wands (foolishly, of course) in different directions. Severus jumped as the floor beneath the four cornered areas, containing various animal parts, specimens, and eggs, quickly collapsed into vaults beneath the floor.

The men nodded to Neville, and left the room.

Severus and his former pupil were immediately engulfed in pitch-black darkness. "You certainly know the process, Professor," Neville said, his calming voice coming through the darkness.

"Who wouldn't? Ashwinders are legendary, and relatively rare." Severus knew that Neville was smiling. He continued with his explanation. "They are grey serpents with red eyes, who come exclusively out of magical fires. They live long enough to lay fiery hot eggs in a dark, secluded spot. If the eggs are not found and frozen quickly, they will set any surrounding building on fire."

"Taken almost verbatim from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," Neville chuckled.

"Touché, Mr. Longbottom, touché," Snape said.

"Ssh," Neville whispered.

The raging fire inside the structure had begun to subside. Snape watched in fascination as two red eyes stared out at him through the glass. The fire quickly went out, and he saw the long, grey, slithering body through the glass. He knew that the snake could not see any of the individuals in the room, as Ashwinders were known to have poor vision, but he was entranced by the snake's elegant movements. If the studies were true, the snake would lay anywhere from two to several dozen fiery hot eggs in the next hour, and die soon afterward. It was imperative that the eggs be frozen within minutes.

The bottom of the container on which the Ashwinder lay writhing started to slowly fall, not unlike a trap door. When it was entirely beneath the floor on which Severus and Neville still stood, Neville extracted his wand, waving it around the room. The lights came up brightly, and the paneling over the four corners slid into the walls, allowing the panels carrying the various animals to rise and secure themselves to the sturdy marble.

Neville turned to Snape expectedly. "The Ashwinder will lay her eggs soon, at which point our trained handlers will immediately transport them to the freezers."

"Brilliant," Snape said, barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for showing me. I have never had the privilege of witnessing such an event ... truly spectacular."

Neville's eyes glowed. "I was sure you'd like it. We perform the ritual once every month or two, give or take the demand. We have eggs currently frozen here," he said, pointing at the transparent crystal freezer in the corner, "and the fresh ones below us will be taken to a larger, not as aesthetic freezer in the lower chambers. Would you like me to get the eggs for you now?"

"Yes, please," Severus said. The men walked across the room, splitting as they walked around the center masterpiece where the fire had just been. Neville extracted thick, silvery-scaled dragon hide gloves from a shelf above the icy freezer. Snape shivered just being in proximity to the frigid cold. Neville reached a glove-clad hand to the shelf again, pulling down a pair of sparkling platinum tongs and a feathery silk bag. He smiled. "Amidst such dangerous creatures as the Ashwinder, there is much beauty in this room. Allegra favors such aesthetically pleasing items, and they certainly delight customers," he said, taking the tongs in one hand as he opened the freezer with another. Snape peered over Neville's shoulder to look in the low freezer. In the spirit of many magical compartments, this small freezer contained a vast amount of frozen goods. Severus noted chilled gillyweed, iced fluxwood (frequently used in the infamous Polyjuice Potion), and several bottles of red liquid at first glance. Neville silently summoned the container of Ashwinder eggs to the front.

"How many would you like?"

"Seven."

Neville began to extract the silver-streaked, faint red eggs, placing them in the silk bag.

"The bag is charmed as well?"

"Of course. Impenetrable, unbreakable," Neville said, not looking up.

"Is there anything in this building that is not under some sort of magical enhancement or protection?"

Neville looked up and paused for a second, pensive. "No," he said. "Save the employees ... perhaps." He shut the freezer door.

Severus quirked an eyebrow as Neville stood, tying off the bag and placing the tongs on the shelf.

"Here you are, Professor." Neville handed the bag to him, smiling.

"Thank you for the eggs."

"Thank you for the business." There was a moment of silence.

"Shall we walk?" Severus proposed.

Neville led him out of the room and back to the entrance of the greenhouse. "Charge your account, as usual?" he asked. Snape nodded. Neville reached under the Yew desk and pulled out the beige notebook, setting it in front of Severus. He paused. "May I ask what the project is?"

Severus waved a hand as he took a quill, signing the account book. "It's that damned Ignacia du Montmorency."

"Montmorency?" Neville's eyes went wide. "Ignacia du Montmorency?"

Severus looked at him, images of melted cauldrons flashing before his eyes. "Yes."

"As in, the only living descendent of Laverne du Montmorency?"

"Her great-great-granddaughter."

"Incredible." Neville ran a hand through his hair. "I take it she's in your line of work."

"She's a Potions mistress, yes."

"Love potions?"

"Her grandmother invented most of the love potions still in use today, and Ignacia is certainly a fervent follower of her grandmother's ideology."

Neville quirked an eyebrow in response. Severus sighed. "She recently published a slanderous article on the negative long term effects of Ashwinder eggs."

Neville furrowed his brow. "I've never heard of such effects."

"Nor I." Severus gave a low chuckle. "You do know that Ashwinder eggs are the core ingredient in the strongest love potion known to man."

"I may not be able to make a potion, Professor, but I certainly know what goes in them. You speak of Amortentia."

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Longbottom."

Neville chuckled. "So you are trying to disprove Ignacia du Montmorentcy's theory?"

"Yes. I'm not one for love potions myself..."

"Can't say I'm surprised, Professor."

"...but I hate seeing research so carelessly – and incorrectly – bandied about," Snape continued. "Ignacia is obviously trying to discredit one of the major love potions purely because it was not directly created by her grandmother." He smiled wryly. "I'm sure she'd be interested to know that one of Amortentia's more interesting side effects was inspired by her ancestress."

Neville laughed. "I'm sure." A bright red object began glowing at the edge of the desk. A Remembrall. For some reason, Snape wasn't the least bit surprised.

"Oh, what have I forgotten now?!" Neville said, exasperated. Severus laughed heartily.

"I'll leave you to your business, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said. He started to walk out the door before turning around.

"And Neville," he called. Neville turned from his place at the desk, surprised.

"Yes, professor?"

"Thank you," Severus said quietly. He walked away, Apparating as he did so.

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