Dedication

Chapter Three: Dedication

At the end of the day, Hermione sat at her kitchen table sipping a hot cup of tea and mentally reviewing the afternoon. Harry's thoughts about the effects of the Horcrux creation on Nagini interested her; the idea was worth pursuing. She felt frustrated, though. Why couldn't he just agree with me? She knew she was being childish, but it bothered her that Harry dismissed her ideas about Snape's possible survival.

Harry had wanted her to forget about Snape and just focus on the antivenin. But, she couldn't. Her research and Snape, Snape and her research; they were intertwined. Her grief at his death drove her on through the Potions research, and the research always brought her back to memories of the horrific sound and sight of his death.

Is it completely irrational to think that he might have survived? Maybe. Of course, so much of the wizarding world is completely irrational.

No wonder Harry thought I was ranting. Well, it's not the first time he's thought I'm a bit crazy. Of course, then I usually ended up saving his arse.

Walking over to her desk, Hermione pulled out a fresh notebook and quill and sat down to do one of the things she did best.

What is your basic research question? That will help you determine where you need to go from here. Hermione's mother, who frequently contributed to the Journal of Dental Research in addition to her clinical work, had given her daughter this sound advice when she'd fretted about writing her very first school essay.

She began writing.

Question: Could Severus Snape have survived Nagini's bite?

To answer that question, need to know:

* What was Severus Snape's skill level as a Potions master?

* What was his place in the Death Eaters? How close to Voldemort did he get?

Snape...Professor Snape...was a skilled brewer. Even more, he was talented and intelligent enough for an alchemist of Albus Dumbledore's caliber to give him the Potions post and respect him professionally. Even if the old coot did shamelessly manipulate him.

And, what else? He was brilliant and bad-tempered. She snorted. To say the least.

He joined the Death Eaters early. He confessed to Professor Dumbledore. Became a spy.

She remembered the shock of the moment when Snape had revealed his tattooed arm at the Triwizard Tournament. She had been 15 and swept up by the grandeur of the event. And by Victor. And worried about Harry.

The three Gryffindors had known that Voldemort was gaining strength, was trying to regain human form. Or some approximation thereof. She had known that nasty as Snape had been to her and her friends, unfair as he'd been in class, biased as he'd been in house matters, Professor Snape not only hadn't mean them...even Harry...serious harm, but had actually tried to protect them. Of course, she'd kept this knowledge to herself most of the time; the boys had never been willing to be rational about Snape.

That day at the Tournament, she'd looked at the stands where Professor Snape had stood with the Headmaster and Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and had watched them imperiously watching the gathered students, faculty, and dignitaries who had come to observe. Snape had looked exactly as usual: piercing eyes moving between his two neighbors and the crowd, slight scowl ready to emerge fully formed on his face. But, he had stood more rigidly than usual. He hadn't clenched his muscles or made any extra movements. His shoulders had been just a little squarer than usual, and his whole manner had simply been stiffer.

Then he'd closed his eyes and opened them again...it was longer than a blink...and turned to Dumbledore and Fudge, rolling up his left coat sleeve. She'd seen something on his arm, something inked and inflamed. She'd seen his face, then in full scowl and even wincing a bit. The Headmaster had looked at him with concern, then nodded. The Minister had simply furrowed his brow at the shape on Professor Snape's arm, given Dumbledore a worried look, and swallowed.

It had been the Dark Mark, and it had been burning. Snape had been in pain. Snape had been spying on the Death Eaters.

It had all happened in a matter of seconds: from the stance to the movement to her understanding of his role to the knowledge that Voldemort was back. The world had shifted.

Professor Snape was almost killed that day. How did he survive? How did he manage to retain Voldemort's faith? He did, but how did he do it? He certainly must have brewed for the Death Eaters. What kind of contact would he have had with Nagini?

Her questions had brought her full circle. To answer them, she needed to research Severus Snape, the man, the Potions master, and the spy. I need a list.

Places to Look:

*Hogwarts: Dumbledore's portrait; talk to Minerva.

When Minerva asks why, I'll tell her I'm writing an article on Snape. Facing Dumbledore will be a whole other story. But he has to tell me more. Especially about the Wizengamot and Snape's trial.

*Draco?

Professor Snape was his godfather, but would he even want to talk about him? To me?

*The Ministry's Library?

Only if I really need to.

*The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers' Library: membership records, publications.

A good place to start.

The wizarding world's media is laughable and would be useless in terms of Snape. Did he have any friends who were alive? Friends who weren't Death Eaters? Were there even any Slytherins he went to school with who hadn't become Death Eaters? Would one of them have any insight? Maybe. Would any of them be willing to speak with me? More doubtful.

Hermione reviewed her notes. This would be a lot of work. On top of her biochemistry work, and her venom research in Potions, and assisting Professor Watson in her experiments. She groaned and laid her head down on her desk.

Do I really want to do this? Do I really need to do this? she asked herself and closed her eyes.

A series of images flashed through her head: Snape sneering at Hermione in class; giving her a shocked, displeased look when Dumbledore awarded her points for solving his logic puzzle; dressed as Neville's Boggart; raising his wand at Sirius in the Shrieking Shack; revealing his Dark Mark to Dumbledore and Fudge; glaring out at the Great Hall from the High Table; dueling with Lockhart; conferring with Dumbledore as they walked through the castle halls; demonstrating curses in the DADA classroom; looking back while running past her as she and Luna attended to a Stunned Professor Flitwick; lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack with his neck bloody and silvery strands of memories drifting about his head.

Yes.

She checked her planner and rearranged her schedule for the next few weeks. Reviewing her list, she wrote out a few letters to owl the next day. Satisfied, she went to her bed, scooted Crookshanks from the middle of the covers onto one of her pillows, got in, fell asleep to the snores of the half-Kneazle next to her, and dreamed of piercing, dark eyes.

Society House, home to the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, differed from the legendary Diogenes Club, the club for anti-social, distinctly unclubbable men, in just two respects: its membership was open to both women and men, and it featured a world-class research library and well-stocked Potions laboratory. The latter was immaculate and open only to full masters. The officers and staff were known to laugh at any apprentice or journeyman who even asked to take a peek at the room. Fortunately, journeymen enjoyed full access to nearly every other amenity in the place, including luxurious furnishings, top-shelf liquor, and gourmet meals served by silent house-elf waiters.

Hermione checked in with the porter at the front desk, walked upstairs to the locker room to put away her coat and bag, and, toting her favorite quill and some parchment, proceeded to the Library to begin her research.

The Society Library was, to Hermione, the Holy of Holies. To create it, the Society had employed the era's greatest Transfigurationists, who had truly outdone themselves. Within a physical space that was actually no larger than a large ballroom in a medium-sized London mansion, they had created a multi-storied temple to the written word. The ground-floor Reading Room was an enormous pentagon with dark wooden walls and a marble floor. Row upon row of tables provided ample space for researchers to read and study. Wood cabinets that reached halfway up the wall on all five sides of the room contained the card catalog for the Library's holdings. The sour-faced librarian who presided over this shrine from his large, elevated desk at the front had, when she first came to the Library, reminded Hermione of Hogwarts' own Irma Pince. She quickly learned that the resemblance was hardly coincidental; Irwin Pince was her elder brother and just as knowledgeable and protective of his priceless collection as his sister was of hers.

Although the Society, as well as Society House, was a mere 175 years old, the guild out of which it had grown went back centuries further. The Society's historian dated its origin to at least a century prior to the Roman conquest of Britain in A.D. 300. The Library's holdings, thus, were vast and exceptionally rich, including stone carvings, scrolls, incunabula, manuscripts, books published by some of the earliest wizarding printing presses (invented nearly a century prior to Gutenberg's press), and the personal Potions collections of several Potions masters and alchemists, including, most recently, those of Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. The Society Library was truly the envy of the wizarding world. In fact, the Society's Board of Governors purposely withheld the extent of its holdings from the Transfigurationists who had created the Library in order to prevent any sabotage that might have arisen from professional jealousy.

The Reading Room paid tribute to the founders of the Society and their more antique predecessors. Marble busts of five of the so-called Ancients sat on top of the cabinets in the five corners of the room: Paracelsus (1493-?), Gregory the Smarmy (medieval, dates unknown), Dzou Yen (fourth century B.C.), Mary the Jewess (third century A.D.), and Brother Cadfael (12th century A.D.). They had been beautifully carved by noted wizarding sculptor Pygmalion Nutinhouse in 1830 when Society House was first dedicated. To the dismay of the Society's founders, however, the busts took on none of the characteristics of wizarding portraits, which moved and spoke, but rather remained entirely still and silent. There were no contemporaneous depictions of these Ancients, an apologetic Nutinhouse had explained, and later depictions of them were not endowed with the essences of the originals.

On the walls surrounding the researchers and the busts hung portraits of some of the Society's founders and later lights. The portraits were decidedly not silent. The portrait of Sacharissa Tugwood (1874-1966), inventor of the Beautification Potion, oh-so-sweetly recommended its use on a weekly basis, at least, to her neighbor two portraits down, that of Healer Grunhilda of Gorsemoor (1556 -1639), creator of the cure for Dragon Pox, who had lost an eye to the disease in her youth and inherited her mother's widow's hump when she had aged. While Grunhilda had been loved for her sweet disposition during her lifetime, in the 39 years since Sacharissa's portrait had been hung, Grunhilda's portrait had grown increasingly testy. The portrait of Glover Hipworth (1742-1805), inventor of Pepper-up Potion, which hung between those of the two ladies, found himself playing referee between them far more often than he wished. When one of the two fell asleep, Hipworth often stole the opportunity to go relax in the massive landscape painting of a medieval Potions garden that hung on the wall behind Librarian Pince's desk.

The discussions that most of the other portraits had tended at least to include intellectual matters, though gossip was a favorite pastime among them all. The portraits of Henri Gamache (1867-1967) and Zora Neale Hurston (1891-1960) often reminisced about the Hoodoo doctors they had known in the southeastern United States. New Orleanian Voodoo queen Marie Laveau (1801-1881) and Italian Potions mistress Laverne de Montmorency (1823-1893), inventor of several love potions, including Amortentia, debated the plusses and minuses of compelling love through one of their concoctions. These two especially bemoaned the inability of Gregory the Smarmy's bust to talk; they were in awe of the potion he had created to convince the drinker that the giver was his or her best friend. The implications for magical compulsion fascinated them.

Magical theorist Adalbert Waffling (1899-1981), though not strictly speaking a Potions master, had willed his portrait to the Society in order that at least the small bit of his essence in his portrait could engage in stimulating conversation with some of the late greats. Waffling's portrait could usually be found deep in talks with the portraits of early modern German alchemist Cornelius Agrippa (1486-1535), ancient Egyptian alchemist Zosimos of Panopolis (a Thursday morning, late third century – a dark and stormy Friday night, early fourth century), and witch Hesper Starkey (1881-1973), whose work explored the impact of moon phases on potion making. On slow afternoons, Librarian Pince himself was known to join in their learned discussions, which sometimes also veered toward Quidditch.

Both the Library's Reading Room and Society House's Board Room featured portraits of Hector Dagworth-Granger (1785-1935), who had founded the Society, but had actually done very little else worthy of note. He tended to travel back and forth between his two frames, trying to aid researchers or give advice to Board members, all of whom found him tedious, and none of whom listened to him anyway.

Entering the Library, Hermione determinedly hurried past Dagworth-Granger's portrait, hailing him with a quick wave as he called after her, "What, ho! A pleasant afternoon to you, Journeywoman Granger!" She blushed as two visiting German journeymen snickered at the portrait's greeting. Hermione had foolishly engaged the departed Potions master's portrait in conversation during her first visit to the Library as an apprentice. She'd remembered Horace Slughorn asking her if she was related to the old pureblood during his first Potions class in her sixth year (she wasn't) and had been curious about him ever since. After having spent an hour listening to him discuss the disputes among the Society's founders in the 1820s over the color scheme for the new building's sitting room, she'd finally ducked out, claiming that she really needed to get home and feed her Kneazle. Now fully acquainted with his tediousness, Hermione made a point of rushing past his portrait and seating herself as far away from it as possible.

When she had settled her things into her preferred work area, Hermione walked up to the front desk and greeted Librarian Pince.

"Journeywoman Granger." He nodded to her. "You realize, I'm sure, that we at the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers do not ordinarily open our membership records to anyone, least of all to one who is not yet even fully qualified in our field. However, given the nature of your request, the fact that this member is deceased, and, most importantly, given the recommendation of your mentor, Potions Mistress Watson,"...Oh, she hates that title!..."we are making an exception."

"Thank you, sir. I do appreciate it."

"These are the conditions, Journeywoman Granger. You are to use a privacy charm while you work with the file in order to prevent other researchers from viewing or using it. You will use the file only in the Reading Room. Under no circumstances may it be taken out of the Reading Room, let alone out of Society House. You may neither remove any materials from the file nor add anything to it. There are protection spells on the file to make sure that you follow these rules. These spells will repel any ink that may fall on the file materials, but you are, nonetheless, advised to keep your quill and ink on your own parchment and sufficiently away from the file. Finally, Journeywoman Granger, the Society does not grant you permission to publish any information you learn from this file and requires you to sign a magical contract consenting to this limitation. You will be denied access if you do not sign the consent form, and there will be severe consequences for violating it. Do you understand, Journeywoman Granger?"

From the depth of the frown Librarian Pince gave her, Hermione deduced that he would be most pleased if he had succeeded in frightening her into requesting a repetition of the rules or, better yet, if he had so frightened her that she fled his presence in terror. So, she smiled at him and said, "Yes, I understand perfectly, Mr. Pince, and I'll be happy to sign the form."

Exuding displeasure, Librarian Pince grabbed the signed consent form from Hermione's hand and grudgingly passed her the file. Thanking him extra-sweetly, Hermione returned to her workspace, cast the requisite privacy charm, and opened the file. It was fuller than it looked.

Just inside the file folder, a photograph of a young Severus Snape, probably taken when he first started teaching at Hogwarts, grimaced at her. The photograph was in color, but Hermione noticed that his eyes were still coal-black. She stared searchingly at them. When the photographic Snape started narrowing his eyes at her, she quickly flipped the image and proceeded to read the file.

MESP Membership File

Abstract

Vital Statistics:

b. 9 January 1960, Manchester, England

d. 15 May 1998, Hogsmeade, Scotland

Parents: Eileen Prince (pureblood) and Tobias Snape (Muggle)

Education:

* Home-schooled in magic by Eileen Prince Snape (M), Alexander Prince (Mat. GF) and Brigid White Prince (Mat. GM), Manchester, England, 1960-1971.

* Muggle primary school, Manchester, England, 1965-1971.

* Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, Scotland, 1971-1978.

(O.W.L.s, 1976: Ancient Runes: O; Arithmancy: O; Astronomy: E; Care of Magical Creatures: O; Charms: O; Defense Against the Dark Arts: O; Herbology: O; History of Magic: E; Potions: O; Transfiguration: E)

(N.E.W.T.s, 1978: Ancient Runes: O; Arithmancy: O; Care of Magical Creatures: O; Charms: O; Defense Against the Dark Arts: O; Herbology: O; Potions: O; Transfiguration: E)

(Seventh-Year Honors Potions Project with Horace Slughorn, P.M., 1977-1978: O)

* Informal apprenticeship in healing Potions with Brigid White Prince (Mat. GM), Manchester, England, 1965-1971; summer holidays, 1971-1976.

* Apprenticeship with Arsenius Jigger, P.M., London, England, summer holiday, 1977.

* Apprenticeship with Damocles Belby, P.M., Shrewsbury, England, June 1978-June 1979.

* Journeyman Status attained, July 1979, under Damocles Belby, P.M.. Honors given by MESP for work on improving the Wolfsbane Potion.

* Mastery work with Vincent Shingleton, P.M., Great Hangleton, England, full-time, July 1979-August 1981; part-time, September 1981-September 1982.

* Mastery work with Albus Dumbledore, P.M., T.M., Hogsmeade, Scotland, part-time, September 1981-September 1982.

* Mastery Status attained, September 1982, under Vincent Shingleton, P.M. and Albus Dumbledore, P.M., T.M. Honors given by MESP for further work on the Wolfsbane Potion.

Employment:

1981-1982: Potions Teacher, resident brewer, and Head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts.

1982-1996: Potions master, resident brewer, and Head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts.

1996-1997: Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, resident brewer, and Head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts.

1997-1998: Headmaster and resident brewer, Hogwarts.

Publications:

"From Relief of Symptoms to Cure? New Findings on the Wolfsbane Potion," Ars Alchemica 268, no. 1 (1984).

"The Impact of Lycanthropic Self-Perception on the Palliative Properties of the Wolfsbane Potion," Ars Alchemica 268, no. 4 (1984).

"Sympathetic Magic and Biology: Aconite, Belladonna, and Hellebore," Ars Herbaria 320, no. 2 (1986).

"The Potioneer and the Herbologist," Ars Herbaria 323, no. 3 (1989). Written with input from Pomona Sprout, H.M., Professor of Herbology, Hogwarts Schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"An Inquiry into the Effects of the Brewer's Intent on Potions-Making," Ars Alchemica 276, no. 2 (1992).

"Power and Potions: Demarcating the Line Between Light and Dark Magic," Ars Alchemica 278, no. 3 (1994).

Hermione charmed a copy of the abstract into her notes and went through the rest of the file. There were Professor Snape's grade reports from the Muggle primary school he'd attended in Manchester ("a bright but troubled child") and a handwritten summary of the magical skills he'd studied with his mother and grandparents ("Severus' wand work...done only in the presence of adult witches and wizards, of course...is quite fluent, and he is well on his way to proficiency in his knowledge of magical herbs").

Hermione noticed, with a glee she tried to conceal, considering her august surroundings, that Professor Snape had taken ten OWLs, as she had, but that overall she had done better than he had; she had ten Os to his seven Os and three Es. She'd also got straight Os on her NEWTs, but he had done eight subjects to her seven. The exams offer promise, not prediction, she silently reminded herself. But giggles threatened again, and she had to snicker over the fact that he'd received an E in Transfiguration on both tests. Snape and Professor McGonagall must have tested each other's patience even during his student years.

She spent hours reading through the material on Snape's Potions training. Each of the Potions masters with whom he'd studied had submitted a syllabus of Snape's studies and an evaluation of his performance and future prospects.

Hermione found his grandmother, Brigid Prince's, statement touching. Madam Prince, in a gently chiding tone, noted the areas in which her grandson needed to improve and expressed pride in the things he did well. A memo from the Society attached to Madam Prince's report recognized her as "a learned and talented native healer who, while not a P.M., has earned our respect."

His later teachers consistently noted Snape's quiet, serious demeanor. Slughorn's reports on young Severus' work throughout his years at Hogwarts recorded the boy's developing talents: an almost encyclopedic memory of Potions ingredients, animal, vegetable, and mineral; ingredient location and preparation; knife skills; an understanding of the effects of various cauldron and stirring rod materials on particular brews; experimentation methodology; and the historical development of particular Potions. Slughorn described young Severus as coming "truly alive when he is focused on preparing a potion. The awkwardness he has when interacting with the other students disappears, and he becomes graceful, fluid, and keen."

Arsenius Jigger noted Snape's great interest in making the necessary trips to collect ingredients from the fields, gardens, and forest where they were grown (or lived). Belby wrote of his delight in his apprentice's preparedness for his daily work. Snape was efficient yet thorough in the brewing he did for his master. He read the literature Belby recommended, often going further when particularly captivated by a topic. Shingleton reported that his normally taciturn student grew increasingly edgy as his training went on, though Snape was still as conscientious and focused as always in his preparations.

Snape's journeyman and mastery work on the Wolfsbane Potion greatly interested her. Certainly, it made sense that he had studied that potion under Belby, the Potions master who'd first created it. Belby, as well the teachers under whom he took his mastery, however, wrote at length of Snape's great interest in and facility for working with this difficult brew. Was it concern for werewolves or concern for their potential victims that drove him? Or was it simply the challenge of working with a potion that few masters brewed at all, let alone with great skill?

Hermione knew of the "prank" Sirius had pulled on Snape during their sixth year at Hogwarts. Long before the invention of the Wolfsbane Potion made it possible for a werewolf to keep his or her human mind while transforming, Sirius had nearly got Snape killed and Remus' werewolf status exposed. Headmaster Dumbledore had dismissed Sirius' act and sworn all four boys involved to secrecy. Hermione imagined that it was Snape who howled that night, though, out of rage.

She also remembered Snape brewing Wolfsbane for Remus during the year he taught DADA. Despite Snape's apparent enmity, he had prepared the potion for Remus successfully each month. The month that Remus had transformed into his wildest form before Harry, Ron, and her outside the Shrieking Shack, it was due to Remus forgetting to take his regular dose, not Snape forgetting to brew the potion. Snape had been furious. Hermione still adored Remus, but, she thought, Snape's anger was completely justified.

At first, the fact that Professor Dumbledore had supervised the final part of Snape's mastery work in Potions surprised Hermione. Considered in terms of the war with Voldemort, however, she realized that it made great sense. Dumbledore, she had sadly learned, rarely acted out of sheer benevolence, at least concerning Tom Riddle and his desired downfall. From Dumbledore's comments on Snape's mastery work, she felt certain that he had truly admired his student's skills. But becoming his mentor, as well as his employer, also helped him keep Snape close, giving Voldemort confidence in Snape's spying skills while, perhaps, providing Snape with some space in which to be safe.

Hermione looked back at her original list of possible research sources and wondered if talking with Dumbledore's portrait might be an actual possibility.

Jigger and Belby are both long dead... Vincent Shingleton. That name sounds very familiar, Hermione thought.

A quick search of the card catalog for listings of his book and articles refreshed her memory: Vincent Shingleton had studied poisons in greater detail than Hermione ever wished to know. It appeared that he, too, was dead.

Another Shingleton appeared just before Vincent's in the drawer: Gaspard. I've heard that name before too. Who is he? Oh, good god, it's Gaspard Shingleton, the inventor of the self-stirring cauldron! He must be... He's Vincent's son. Checking the available cards again, she saw that, aside from his "great invention" in 1985, Gaspard had only published two short articles, both in the glossy monthly The Practical Potioneer and both on "improved" versions of the self-stirring cauldron.

For some reason, the idiots who put out the Famous Wizard Cards had given one to him, the inventor of one of the silliest, and least used, "innovations" in recent Potions history. Disparage the Famous Wizard Cards though she might, Hermione nonetheless remembered a great deal of what some might dubiously call pertinent information from her perusal of Harry and Ron's collections. Gaspard Shingleton, a funny-looking man whose spiky hair had gone white very prematurely, was born in 1959, which meant that he would have been just one year ahead of Snape at Hogwarts.

Rechecking Vincent Shingleton's report on Snape's work, Hermione confirmed that Gaspard and Snape's mastery work with Shingleton, Sr. overlapped. Looking back through the other reports, she noted that Gaspard had been at Slug and Jigger's during the same summer that Snape had worked there. She also supposed that the son of such a prominent colleague would have found a ready welcome in good old Horace's Slug Club.

Could Snape and Shingleton, Jr. have been friends? Snape had disparaged Gaspard Shingleton's "amazing invention" loudly during his classes. Some poor student inevitably brought one of the self-stirring cauldrons to school every year, and amazingly, it wasn't always a first year. Apparently, Snape alternated between destroying that year's model himself and allowing the foolhardy owner to use it once and watch it immediately melt during the brewing of the first Potion in the first class of the year.

Shingleton had been in... She checked his father's report again. ... Ravenclaw? OK, so he was intelligent enough. He might be useful to talk with. I wonder what he remembers about Snape from school or their mastery work? Hermione jotted down some notes and resumed reading Snape's file.

For a few years after achieving mastery, Snape had published nothing. Starting teaching and figuring out how to deal with Dumbledore must have taken a while. Between 1984 and 1994, the year before Voldemort's return, he had published six major articles in the scholarly journals. To her own astonishment, Hermione hadn't read any of them. No time like the present, she thought.

One of the Library's house-elf pages pulled the relevant issues and brought them to her table. Hermione skimmed them, reading the abstract for each and dipping into a couple when a paragraph caught her eye. His first two articles resulted from the research he'd done on the Wolfsbane Potion while working to become a journeyman and then a master. The second of these, "The Impact of Lycanthropic Self-Perception on the Palliative Properties of the Wolfsbane Potion," particularly interested her.

"In addition to the potency and purity of potions ingredients and the magical intent of the brewer, potioneers must also seek to understand the status of the magical being ingesting or otherwise using a given potion. This is easiest to comprehend in the area of medicinal potions. While Healers' admonitions to patients to 'maintain a positive attitude' usually sound inane, especially coming from most contemporary, ill-trained mediwitches and –wizards," Hermione snorted as softly as possible at that snark and continued reading, "senior practitioners and scholars in the field have amply demonstrated the power of patients to assist in their own cures and recoveries (Pye and Jekyll, 1902, 1920, 1936; Camber, 1953; Bulstrode and Bulstrode, 1962 and 1979).

"The Wolfsbane Potion is, among other things, a medicinal potion aimed at treating the chronic disease of lycanthropy. As is well known, it is not a cure for the disease (Snape, 1984), but it does provide significant relief of its most unpleasant, and dangerous, symptoms. I argue here that the Wolfsbane Potion becomes an even more important palliative when the werewolf consuming it 'maintains a positive attitude' both toward the potion's power and toward him- or herself. We ignore the psychological factors in the Wolfsbane's success to our detriment, as well as to that of werewolves and their prospective victims."

Severus Snape wrote this? Very interesting...

In his 1986 article, on the sympathetic magic involved in using potentially deadly plants as part of healing, stress-relieving, and other potions, Snape presented what Hermione considered a valuable insight into the theory of the efficacy of certain potions.

"The theoretical underpinning of sympathetic magic in the Potions field involves utilizing ingredients that, in their raw form, would produce symptoms at least as deadly as those the Healer or potioneer is trying to cure. The ordinary observer may find that their use seems counterintuitive. Potioneers (as well as Muggle herbalists and homeopaths, incidentally)"...That's daring of him to mention..."know that plants such as aconite, belladonna (known also by its more lurid moniker, deadly nightshade), and hellebore are, in nature, extremely toxic, but when prepared and utilized properly, each has superior medicinal properties.

"The magical healing properties of aconite, belladonna, and hellebore are intrinsic to these plants. The ability of the plants to produce magical effects is also, however, affected and magnified by their combination with other magical ingredients and their incorporation into the relevant potions through the precise and exacting methods of the witch or wizard brewer."

Hermione forgot her admonishment to herself simply to skim through the articles and save the in-depth readings for later. She found herself absorbed by Snape's findings in his experiments with the three deadly herbs and appreciated the insights that the belladonna and hellebore concoctions provided into the use of aconite and the creation of the Wolfsbane Potion. This test might be useful in my research. I wonder if I can adapt it to venom and other animal-derived ingredients?

The more she read, the more she found herself mentally responding as a peer to her former professor's work. Oh, Severus, I don't know about that statement; I've never even heard of that use of belladonna... I should tell Neville about this... Of course, you would be mortified to hear that!

"Traditional magical theories of sympathy are, then, entirely too simplistic to account for more recent insights into the workings of sympathetic magic, and by recent I mean the work of the last century or so. Cause and effect in these potions is more complex than slogan-like descriptors such as 'contagion' or 'like responds to like' would suggest. In fact, these traditional theories mask the infinitely more important definition of 'sympathy' as 'agreement.' In potions in which the main ingredients are the otherwise deadly plants I have discussed here, these plants become instruments of healing or amelioration because all of a particular potion's components...mundane and magical ingredients, the magic of combining, blending and otherwise brewing, and the brewer's own magical input and intent...work in agreement to achievement to accomplish the stated goal. In the subtle science and exact art of potion-making, theory that simplifies rather than expands narrows the imagination and the striving for innovation and improvement."

Hermione sighed audibly as she read the article's final sentence, earning her shushes from the occupants of nearby tables. She blushed. It was the phrase from his first-year speech to his Potions class: "subtle science and exact art." He really believed it! It wasn't just some rhetorical flourish he'd written to strike the fear of... well, him... into us. And his theory!

Hermione couldn't help but think of her own research into antivenins and the possibility of extending their curative powers. The Potions literature on sympathetic magic was still woefully inadequate, despite Snape's 20-year-old article. She couldn't remember finding anything else like it in her reading, but she'd look again now.

Why didn't I read this earlier? she asked herself. She did remember steering clear of his name in her earlier studies. It had been difficult then to consider reading the work of her dead professor. But this is just what I need now. There's some evidence that contradicts his findings in relation to hellebore... but that doesn't invalidate the rest of his findings... and definitely not the theory. I wish that Severus were still around so I could talk with him about this. I'll have to reread it and make more notes... "Agreement"... I wonder how this will affect...

"Ahem. Journeywoman Granger?"

Hermione looked up at the sudden appearance of the cranky Librarian. "Oh, Mr. Pince. Is something wrong? I'm being very careful with the file."

"Yes, well, good, Journeywoman Granger. As you should. There is, however, another patron who would like actually to read one of the journal volumes currently simply laying on your desk. May I give it to him?" Librarian Pince's glare suggested to Hermione a man who had somehow added salt rather than sugar to the lemons life had provided him.

"Actually, I would like copies made of this list of articles. So, if you wouldn't mind doing that before giving this volume to the gentleman, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Copies? You do realize that there is a fee for that service, Journeywoman Granger?"

"Yes, sir. Naturally. I'll be happy to pay it. Would you add it to my monthly bill for the Society? Thank you so much."

After the Librarian had stalked off to order her copies and help other patrons, she made some notes and turned back to Snape's file. He had never written for the monthly Practical Potioneer, which she always thought resembled a weird cross between a trade publication and Witch Weekly's gossip columns. His file, though, did contain several clippings about him from that magazine. Short columns reported on the international prizes he'd garnered for several of his studies. The accompanying wizarding photographs showed the young Potions master standing between his two mentors, Shingleton and Dumbledore; shaking the hand of the president of the International Assembly of Potioneers upon receiving the IAP's highest award; and standing amidst his Hogwarts colleagues.

Hermione observed that Snape aged notably from picture to picture, even within the short span of time in which they were taken. He never smiled. The war had never ended for Snape, even after Voldemort's first defeat, and it showed in his face.

Standing between his two mentors as a newly minted Potions master, nervousness and pride warred on Snape's face. He occasionally glanced back and forth between them. In the second photo, Snape glared imperiously at the elderly wizard handing him a golden, cauldron-shaped statuette. His eyes narrowed slightly at the man; his lips were pinched together. Still, there was some satisfaction in his eyes in these two photos, even amidst the gravitas.

In the last picture, though, Snape's frown stood out amidst the happy faces of the rest of the faculty. The grimace pulled his whole face down, accentuating his long nose. Sporadically, Snape raised one eyebrow at the photographer. The lines carved into his forehead made him appear to have a permanent tension headache. Hermione noted that his eyes had lost something, some spark that had lit his eyes in the previous two pictures despite the apparent solemnity. She frowned at the change.

The Practical Potioneer had published little about Snape after 1994. After an initial article speculating about the rumors of Snape's involvement with the revived Death Eaters, the editors made sure to stick with carefully neutral statements that, nonetheless, conveyed distaste with the man. Their 1998 obituary awkwardly combined a glowing evaluation of Snape's early work in Potions, condemnation of his true Death Eater days, sadness at the "terrible perversion of our noble art" that he was forced to commit as a spy, and rather stilted prose mourning Snape's death "in the brave service of the Light." She found it nauseating.

Upon reaching the end of the file, Hermione felt as if she'd come to know Severus Snape, or at least a part of him, in a curiously intimate way. Between the file on his Potions career, his articles, and the memories he'd given Harry all those years ago, which she had insisted upon viewing at the time, Snape's character emerged more fully.

He was brilliant, she thought, something that she had already believed as a student. The Society's file, though, went far beyond her teenage impressions. It presented a portrait of the young wizard as a Potions researcher deemed gifted by elders in his field, who had no reason to buy into his domineering classroom persona. In this file, Snape was neither a git of a teacher stifled by the everyday demands of students nor a grouchy cynic ruined by the corrosive influence of the Death Eaters and the psychological intensity of spying. His intellectual passions lived on beneath both façades. Oh, the Potions innovations Severus could have made if not for Voldemort... and his own stupidity for signing onto Snakeface's agenda in the first place!

Outside his Potions research, Severus had to have cultivated a particularly ruthless brand of ingenuity, Hermione thought. He'd have needed it in order to spy as effectively as he did on a powerful, mad Dark wizard and his demented minions. Further, Snape was himself a formidable wizard who had developed his magic in directions that few attempted, let alone mastered. Occlumency, Legilimency, special spells, advanced Apparition skills. And he flew! I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall behind Minerva when Severus flew out of Hogwarts.

Severus had to have had felt some self-hatred to join the Death Eaters and remain even as long as he did. His father was a Muggle, though by all accounts not much of a father. Severus was attracted to the Dark. It's not like he was an angel or anything. He probably couldn't have spied as long and as well as he did without that attraction... and knowledge of Dark magic.

A less-than-discreetly mumbled "Ahem" alerted Hermione and the rest of the Reading Room's patrons to the fact that Librarian Pince would be ending his hours in just ten minutes and expected them to return their requested material now. She returned Severus Snape's file and made a note to herself to Floo Minerva that evening. She'll believe that I'm writing an article about Severus...erm, Professor Snape...and that I need to speak with her as well as Professor Dumbledore. Won't she?

On her way out of Society House, Hermione stopped at the porter's office and asked him to put a note in Gaspard Shingleton's pigeonhole. She knew that the Owl Post's service owls were perfectly competent, but she was just paranoid enough to think that one of the Society's owls would be better able to track down one of its members. "You'll make sure he's notified that he has a message, won't you?" asked Hermione. "I don't really know how often he comes in."

"Certainly, miss," the porter replied. When Hermione had left, the porter rolled his eyes. "Notify him? Merlin, the nerve of that woman!" At the sound of a Floo call from the other end of the room, the porter retreated.

From around the corner came a nondescript, brown-haired man, who plucked the note out of Shingleton's box, properly addressed it, tied it around the leg of one of Society's hardy-looking owls, and sent the creature out the window to make the delivery.

Gaspard Shingleton ran a hand through his spiky white hair as he read the curious note. The Granger woman's name sounded familiar. Was it from the Daily Prophet? Or maybe she was the redhead from that party the other weekend? She wanted to meet with him to see if he could tell her anything about... his student days with Snape! Bloody hell. Definitely not the redhead, then. He wrote out his reply and gave it to the owl to take to Journeywoman Hermione Granger. Oh, the bloody war, that's it. And he got up to fix himself a large firewhiskey.

Author's Notes:

Gracious thanks to my editor, littlelizzyann, who has achieved the perfect combination of hand holding and butt kicking.

With the following exceptions, all the Potions masters/alchemists discussed are canon (though some were also "real"), either from the books themselves or from the Famous Wizard Cards: Mary the Jewess (real), Brother Cadfael (Ellis Peters' mysteries), Pygmalion Nutinhouse (mine, all mine), Henri Gamache (real, or at least the pseudonym of the real writer of several hoodoo books from the mid-20th century), Zora Neale Hurston (real African-American novelist and anthropologist, and if you haven't read Their Eyes Were Watching God yet, you should), Marie Laveau (real), Zosimos of Panopolis (real), and Vincent Shingleton (fabricated). The Diogenes Club belongs to the Sherlock Holmes universe created by Arthur Conan Doyle. Society House's atmosphere was also inspired by the Bellona Club in Dorothy L. Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey novels.

JKR hasn't provided us with an exact date for the Final Battle or Snape's death. DH places it sometime in May 1998. While not historically significant, like the Ides of March, I think that the Ides of May might also have appealed to Voldemort's sense of the morbid.

Dates for Severus' formal schooling and employment by Hogwarts come from canon and the interpolations of the HP Lexicon. I made up his OWL and NEWT scores based on what we all really know, deep down in our hearts, about our beloved Potions master and what I believe based on his character as a student and on his history. JKR never addressed Snape's post-Hogwarts Potions training. My depiction builds on the interesting portrayals created by the fanfic authors who tread this ground before me and draws on my knowledge of the medieval guild system (very incomplete knowledge) and the development of the professions in modern Europe and North America. Arsenius Jigger, Damocles Belby, and Gaspard Shingleton are all canon characters who were Potions masters, though JKR provides us with very little information about them. Although there's no indication in canon that Snape knew or worked with any of them, it would be reasonable to assume that he at least knew Shingleton, since they would have attended Hogwarts at the same time.

Professor Watson's hatred of the "Potions mistress" title and use of the term "palliative" are in honor of littlelizzyann.