Lab Coats and Wizard Robes

Chapter Three : The One who Always had an Answer.

His first impulse was to go to Dumbledore. When in doubt, always go to Dumbledore, was one of his mottos. But this time Dumbledore couldn't help him:

"Merlin's beard, I have never heard of something like that. Who would call anything with such a name? You'd never think that people who invented something as delicious as tarte Tatin can make up a name like that. But why don't you ask Professor Lyndon? I'm sure she knows. She is the Muggle Studies teacher, after all. But do tell me the result of your investigation. I'm mightily curious to know where you can find... what do you call it?"

The fact was that Snape would prefer not to ask Professor Lyndon. For one thing, he didn't like to ask his colleagues for answers. He liked providing them much better. And second, Lyndon had somehow come up with the idea that he was a vampire, and would go into hysterics every time he came near her (but then, he expected little more from a complete Squib).

But Arthur Weasley was all right. At least, he would be polite with him, and there was no reason why he'd tell anyone that Snape wasn't all-knowing. And he was head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry, so he might be able to help. That was how Snape coaxed himself into limping to the schoolgates and Apparating to the Burrow. As the kitchen table came in sight, he had the unpleasant surprise to discover two of his former students sitting at it.

"Oi! Professor Snape! How absolutely marvellous to see you!" said the first one in a mock enthusiastic voice.

"I'd say more: how marvellously absolute to see you!" echoed his twin.

The arrogant brats! thought Snape. I've risked my life for them, while they were only thinking of joke shops, and here is my reward for it - being an object of fun!

Still, he ignored their taunts, and went to business with the most unconcerned tone he could muster.

"I need to talk to your father."

The two boys looked suddenly on their guard:

"What do you want to talk to him for?"

"That's none of your business," replied Snape.

The nearest twin stepped in front of him. He was at least a head taller than him:

"I warn you. Dad is in a very good mood today, so if you dare so much as think the P of Percy, we will make sure that your classes become a living hell."

"I'm terrified. Now go find your father, before I put you in deten-"

"Hey, Snapey! Can't get over the fact we're out of school, can you? Where are our last essays, anyway? You never even gave them back, after we had worked so hard on them!"

The twin who had just said that was actually smiling at him. But Snape didn't let embarrasment get the better of him.

"You never handed them in in the first place! And don't remind me of the fact that I had to teach you two extra years just so you could open a joke shop! It's irritating enough as it is!"

But he only managed to make them laugh more. One of them took up a plate with a slice of cake that was on the table. He clapped Snape on the shoulder and, between two fits of laughter, said :

"Want a piece of this excellent tarte Tatin Mum's made?"

Even if it had looked like the one Dumbledore was always shoving under his nose, Snape would have declined. But the twins only laughed harder. Wiping his tears, one of them finally went to fetch his father. Snape was quite relieved to see him.

"Ah, Severus! Long time no see! How are you doing?" inquired the ever polite Ministry employee when he entered the kitchen. "Please do sit down - have the boys offered you something to drink? And Molly's made us an excellent apple pie, following a new recipe, I forgot the name."

"No thank you. I need to know where I can find hydrochloric acid."

"Chlori - what?"

"Hydrochloric acid. It's a Muggle potion ingredient, and that's supposed to be your area of expertise. Where can I find it?"

Weasley looked confused.

"Well, you see, I must admit I didn't even know Muggles made potions! Imagine that, though... Every day, I think they're more impressive. Don't you agree?"

"So you're actually telling me you don't know?"

"No! But then you know, I've always thought that for so-called talentless people they are quite mysterious..."

Upon seeing Snape's angry look, Mr. Weasley thought better than to go on rapsodizing about Muggles.

"Er... But why don't you ask Hermione? Hermione Granger, you know, you taught her, I think."

"I know I did. Where is she currently?"

"Why, she'll be at the convention of the Equal Rights Party, of course. But do come back and tell me everything about Muggle Potions. Why don't you come for dinner one of these days? Molly's a wonderful cook."

"I'll owl you. Good bye."

Off he was to the convention. He was starting to feel positively grumpy by now: not only had he not had any satisfactory answer, but he didn't exactly relish the idea of being seen at the convention of a party militating for house elf rights. Wishing to lose no time, he crossed the crowd to the nearest official looking person standing in front of the stage.

"Where can I find Hermione Granger?" he asked.

"She's getting ready for her speech. I'm sorry, but she will not be disturbed."

"I don't care about her foolish speech. I need to talk to her."

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's impossible. You'll have to wait till the buffet."

Snape considered his options, and tried it through another way.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No, sir, and I don't care. I wouldn't let you in even if you were Harry Potter himself."

That was more than he could bear. Feeling disgusted, Snape turned his heels and sat down on a bench: to cap it all, he would have to sit through a speech on house elf rights.

After an hour and a half of historical arguments and moral considerations on not only house elves but also werewolves and merpeople, it was finally over, and he walked to a large buffet where everybody was gathering. To give himself something to do, he took a glass of sparkling wine and a pastry, and waited till the crowd surrounding Granger thinned. Why did they all need to congratulate her, or worse, discuss with her the finer points of her speech?

Finally, people started to leave. When the young activist was left with only a couple of admirers, he approached her. She looked very surprised to see him:

"Professor Snape! I didn't know -"

"Let me put it plainly, Miss Granger, I have no interest whatsoever in house elves."

"Oh ! Well, er, then..."

"I need to know where I can find hydrochloric acid. I need it for a healing potion for Madam Pomfrey."

"What ingredient are you talking about?"

"Hydrochloric acid. It's a Muggle ingredient, so you ought to know."

"Do you know what kind of ingredient it is? That might help, you know."

Granger was looking demandingly at him. He felt that if he only gave her the right amount of information, she would be helpful.

"I don't really know. I found it in a book called Organic Chemistry."

"Chemistry! You'll have to ask my cousin, then. He's a chemist. It's a bit like the Muggle equivalent of a potion brewer, really. He works at Cambridge University, in the Analytical Chemistry Department. Would you like to meet him?"

"No, thank you. I'll manage to find another way of getting it."

Of course, if he was going to use something Muggle, he wasn't going to ask for it. After all, he had his pride. But he was sure a Muggleborn couldn't understand that, so he didn't tell her he intended to get his hydrochloric acid by stealth. He had often done similar things in the past, and he knew it would be easy now, considering it was Saturday and that it was night already : the Analytical Chemistry Department, or whatever the name of the place was, would be deserted, and he would have all his time to find the stuff and Apparate back to Hogsmeade.