Mist and Vapors

Chapter 12: Escalation

When he got up on Thursday morning, Severus knew without a doubt that today would be a rotten day. Not just did he have three combined Gryffindor/Slytherin double potions classes, not just did he have to think up a week's worth of particularly nasty detentions for one of his fifth-years, not just was there a Heads of House meeting called for that afternoon, in part to discuss the aforementioned fifth-year's gregarious misconduct, not just would Lupin expect his last dose of Wolfsbane today - no, he had several hours of marking to look forward to that evening. Marking side by side with Hannigan's daughter.

By the time he had left the staffroom and was heading back towards the dungeon (where he had left the fifth-year gainfully employed skinning and disemboweling a barrel of natterjack toads) he was in a flaming bad mood. Minerva and Albus had cornered him after the meeting to enquire if there had been any more incidents, and he had been forced to admit that yes, there had been a bit of a proliferation of dead moles around his sphere of work during the last few weeks. Three more, to be exact.

He really was starting to regard the whole affair as just an infernal nuisance - the whole 'dead mole' thing was getting old. Pettigrew, if it was him, was not the imaginative kind. He had probably been quite impressed with his own cleverness in thinking this up, but if that was all he had up his sleeve, Snape was not inclined to take him too seriously. Minerva and the Headmaster did not seem to share that opinion, and had been bothersome in the extreme.

He swept down the stairs and corridors, students scattering out of the way like frightened rabbits as they saw him approach. There would be just enough time to check up on the progress made with the natterjacks and to bring Lupin his potion before dinner. The dungeon door burst open with a flick of his wand, and Snape headed for his office when he abruptly stopped in mid-stride, staring at the sight that met his eye.

Floor and desks were covered with natterjack parts. The door to the cupboard that held the rarer classroom supplies had been broken open; one of the doors had been ripped off its hinges. Shards of glass and porcelain littered the floor where jars had been swept off the shelves that lined the walls. Animal parts, roots, and leaves floated in puddles of murky liquid, and the smell of wet herbs and pickle brine filled the air. Wand at the ready, Severus quickly made his way to the front of the classroom, scanning the room for any intruders.

He found the student crumpled at the foot of his desk, still and motionless. Kneeling down, his hands quickly checked for pulse and breath, and then patted down the body for any obvious injury. He let out a sharp breath of relief - the student, while unconscious, seemed to be otherwise unharmed. "Ennervate," he hissed, and the eyes of the boy fluttered open.

Within a few seconds, he attempted to sit up.

"What happened?" he asked in a weak, shaky voice, brushing the back of his hand over his eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

Snape smirked at that. "Not any more trouble than you were in previously. Can you tell me what happened?"

The boy just looked up at him with an air of befuddlement. "The door opened, and there was a flash - and I don't remember more than that."

Snape nodded grimly. "Let's get you up to the infirmary." He helped the student up, and found that the boy was able to walk, albeit a bit shakily. In the corridor, he flagged down one of the prefects. "Take this boy up to Madam Pomfrey. Tell her he seems to have fainted, and I would like for her to check him out."

As the two students slowly made their way up the stairs, he returned to the dungeon classroom. With a few quick steps, Severus moved to the door of his office. No problem there - the wards that guarded it were still firmly in place. He quickly lowered them and stepped inside. The room was undisturbed, his private stores safe. With a sigh of relief, he returned to the classroom.

Carefully avoiding the sharp shards of glass, he knelt on the floor next to the cupboard. Whoever had done this had been thorough. Only a few heavy earthenware jars had survived the assault; most everything else was past the point of being salvageable. Some of the jars could be repaired, but the potion ingredients were too contaminated to ever be of use again. They would have to be destroyed.

A few choice cusswords escaped the Potions master as he surveyed the damage. These had been virtually all the supplies needed for the entire school year. Tomorrow would have to be a theoretical lesson until he could make it to Slug and Jiggers on the weekend and reorder supplies.

With a groan, he pulled his wand out of his sleeve, and started on the task of repairing what could be repaired and disposing of the rest.

.-.-.

He had almost finished clearing the mess when Minerva and Dumbledore entered. To Snape's great annoyance, they were followed by Lupin and Flitwick.

"There is a student up in the hospital wing who is telling quite a strange story," the Headmaster said mildly. "Could you enlighten me as to what happened? You were going to tell me, were you not?"

Severus drew himself up to his full height, and regarded the headmaster coldly. "A student has been attacked. Do you really think I would be irresponsible enough to keep that fact to myself?"

"No, no, of course not. So our friend is not content to just leave presents behind any more, is he?"

"So it appears." Severus was still standing up, while the rest of the group had sat down at the student work tables.

"So are you still suspecting Pettigrew?" Lupin asked, his forehead screwed up in concern.

"That would be my best guess at this point, yes."

"Pettigrew? Isn't that interesting." Dumbledore tugged the side of his beard thoughtfully. He turned to Remus. "I would be interested in hearing your opinion. What do you make of this?"

Remus shrugged. "From all I can tell, he never tried to harm anyone unless it was in his direct personal interest. Self-preservation, if you will. If he wanted to seriously hurt the student, he certainly could have."

"It is still just a message then, you think? To put Severus on his guard?" Minerva chimed in while Severus stood by in growing irritation while the rest of them discussed the situation as if he were not even in the room.

At that moment, someone else burst through the door of the dungeon. "I heard something about an attack in the dungeons." The Composition mistress seemed quite out of breath. A look of relief spread over her face as she took in the scene in the room. "Is everyone alright?" Her eyes sought the face of the Potions master.

"Everyone is fine. The student was just mildly stunned, no major damage done," McGonagall replied. "Severus, was there a letter or something again this time?"

"This time?" Hannah asked in alarm before Severus had a chance to answer. "What do you mean, this time? There have been other attacks?"

"This does not really concern her," he snapped. "I am sure she has other places she should be?"

"Severus, the staff will need to be told now. All the staff." McGonagall turned back to Hannah, and she and Dumbledore were still trying to explain the situation to her when Severus murmured an excuse and retreated to his office.

How in all the world did word spread around this castle so fast? He opened a small wall cupboard, and took out the crystal decanter. With practiced hands, he filled a goblet. Was the entire school going to show up down here in the next ten minutes? With an abrupt, angry motion he re-stoppered the decanter and put it back in the cupboard. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a second. Well, it seemed like Pettigrew had tired of the 'mole game' as well...

When he re-entered the potions dungeon, the other five were engaged in animated conversation. Severus banged the goblet down in front of the Defense master. "Since you are down here anyways, I might as well save myself a trip," he said with a sneer.

Conversation died down quickly, and Remus, after casting a quick look in the direction of the newest staff member, picked up the goblet a bit self-consciously. "Thank you, Severus," he said levelly, and took a deep swallow. "Wolfsbane Potion," he said, turning to Hannah. "I don't know if they told you or not, but I am a werewolf. Severus has been gracious enough to brew the potion for me."

For a moment, her eyes dashed quickly between Severus and Remus. "I am glad to hear that. Well, not that you are a werewolf, of course, but that... I mean, I have heard the transformation is much easier... I am sorry, I can just be daft sometimes....I hope you know what I mean..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Remus with an embarrassed smile.

He smiled back at her. "You're doing fine." With a grimace, he lifted the goblet to his lips again. "Now, if someone could just talk Severus into making it taste better?"

Everyone laughed at that, except Severus, who closed his eyes. Gads, he was tired of that same joke every month.

Again, he felt her eyes on him. And whatever you think you figured out right now, you don't have a clue, he thought savagely.

He turned to the rest of the group with mock solicitousness. "Since everyone seems to be nicely settled in, may I offer you some tea? Cakes? Biscuits? Warm milk with honey?"

"What a marvelous idea, Severus." The Headmaster's eyes twinkled, but Minerva McGonagall got up as Remus downed the last of his potion.

"I think what he means is that it's time for us to go," she said, firmly pressing her lips together. "Remus, Filius, Miss Hannigan..."

"Call me Hannah," she interrupted her. "Everybody. Please."

"Hannah, then." McGonagall nodded. "Let's go and leave Severus to his work." She shooed everyone through the open door. Albus paused in the doorway, and looked at his Potions master. "Severus, take care of y..."

"Yes, yes," Severus interrupted him. "I know." He unceremoniously closed the door behind the Headmaster.

.-.-.

It only took a few more minutes to repair the hinges on the cupboard door, and clean up the last of the mess on the shelves. He had managed to save about half of the jars and flasks.

With a sigh, he sat down at the desk and got out his inventory ledger, a quill, and a piece of parchment. He was almost done composing his list of ingredients and equipment that needed to be replaced when there was a soft knock on the door.

"What now?" he muttered resentfully as he went to open the door. Wrenching it open a bit too forcefully, he almost bumped into Hannah, who was standing close on the other side. She blushed, and took a step back.

"Yes?" Severus inquired icily.

"I just wanted to ask... well, we were supposed to do the marking together tonight, and with what happened, I would completely understand if you would like to postpone..."

He thought for a moment. The idea of the evening to himself was tempting - but no, he would be even busier tomorrow. Might as well get it over with. "I will still expect you after dinner."

She nodded. "All right." She turned as if to go, then stopped and turned back around.

"Is everything gone? Your supplies, I mean?"

He closed his eyes for a second, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"All the student stores, yes."

He looked up to see her eyes locked on his face. There was an expression in them that he couldn't place. He was not used to being looked at like that - it was disconcerting.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "Are you all right?" She lifted her hand as if to touch his arm, then dropped it to her side again. All this time, her eyes did not leave his face.

"I am fine," he said roughly, dismissively.

She was still standing there, just looking at him, the hand she had just lifted now clenching a fold of her robe. He could see her throat moving as she swallowed hard.

A couple seconds went by, and still she was just standing there, as if rooted to the spot.

All of a sudden, a thought occurred to him. "You will not tell your father about what has happened," he demanded, as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This is not at all the Ministry's concern."

Suddenly, her shoulders slumped, and there was a conspicuous brightness in her eyes.
"No," she said tiredly. "It isn't my place to inform the authorities." She finally turned away again. "I will see you at six then."

He looked after her with drawn eyebrows before returning to his desk. Six o'clock would arrive way too soon.