The Trail of the Black Star

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Uncharted Forest, Peru

26 June, 10:13AM

Severus had to admit, Hermione's company was infinitely superior to Puquio's. For all the physical and intellectual changes time had wrought, she was still relentlessly idealistic, which was almost as impressive as it was irritating. Still, he was having trouble remembering a conversation with a woman had been more straightforward. Quite refreshing, though he eventually credited his enjoyment on the continued effectiveness of Hermione's altitude potion.

"I've been doing field work here ever since I received my Mastership in Magical History from Logres." She held aside a branch to let him pass.

"I must admit to being somewhat surprised by your field of study, considering how much crowing by Minerva and Filius I endured over your work in their classes. Of course, I always knew you were never cut out for advanced potions study, but I'd always pictured you selflessly cramming your knowledge of transfiguration or charms down the throats of reluctant students."

She shrugged. "Anyone who knew me in school was probably sick to death of me quoting relevant bits from 'Hogwarts, A History' at them. None of them seemed to think it surprising that I chose to pursue history."

His eyes narrowed at the mention of her schoolmates, and she wisely chose not to go into depth on the subject.

"Of course," she continued with a wry smile that eminently suited her features, "you can imagine my keen disappointment when I found that Logres didn't offer a Mastership in Insufferable Knowitallism, but History was a close second. As for teaching, I figure I've paid my dues to that noble profession for helping Neville Longbottom survive seven years of potions with all higher brain functions and limbs intact. And speaking of potions- "

"I wasn't aware that Longbottom had any higher brain functions to lose. And, predictably, you need my help with a pet project."

"Well, yes. I've had a fair amount of success with re-creating a few rudimentary Incan potions from what I've been able to glean from my translations of quipu, like the altitude potion and Stayaway Solution, but I was hoping to pick your brain on a project which has more wide-reaching applications."

"What did you have in mind?"

She held aside another branch. "A potion that renders the drinker immune to all forms of physical or magically induced pain."

Severus was so surprised that he neglected to catch the branch. It twanged back and caught him in the chest.

She spun around at the heavy thwack. "Oh, I'm sorry! Are you all right?"

"Did you say 'immune to all forms of physical or magically induced pain?'"

"Yes, I did."

"Then I'm certainly not all right. Have you any idea of the ramifications of such a potion, if such a thing could ever exist? It would be catastrophic."

"You're right as far as that it was invented as a battle weapon. I suspect that it induced a sort of battle frenzy, in addition to removing pain reflexes. Having warriors that didn't feel pain or fear death allowed the Inca to conquer most of South America before the Spanish came along. But the point is that it is that the Spanish did prevail because of advanced weaponry, in this case, guns. Do you honestly think we're still vulnerable to those kinds of tactics?"

He was not convinced. "It's not a matter of prevailing, it's a matter of avoiding the cost of such a fight."

"But can't you see the positive applications? Such a potion would revolutionize the treatment of pain. And, of course, it renders one of the Unforgivable Curses ineffective. Don't you see the inherent value in such a potent protection?"

"Of course I can see its possible value, but I don't believe that it supersedes the dangers of nefarious use. The potential for abuse is far too great."

She severed a vine that hung across their path with a vicious swipe of her knife. "I hardly think it's your decision to make."

"It is very much my decision if you expect me to help you with it!"

"It's my discovery. If you refuse to help me, I'll find someone else who will."

"I doubt very much you'll find someone with the necessary training and experience with the requisite lack of ethics and common sense to make that kind of discovery public."

She turned on him. "I honestly believe that with a few changes to the formula, this potion would be a huge benefit to the Magical population of the world. Every major technological advance has the potential to be harmfully exploited, but it is because of these conveniences that we are able to further our civilisation and improve our quality of life. Should we stop using broomsticks because one can fall off? Should we stop using fire because we can burn ourselves? Of course not."

"I can picture defending myself to an international tribunal, ten years and another war separating us from the present. 'But Your Grace, Miss Granger honestly believed that the potion would be used for only good things. Is it our fault that someone decided to use it to the purpose for which it was originally invented?'"

"You make it sound like I'm planning to market the original potion as a universal pain killer. I assure you that I'm not."

"And what's to stop other people from doing so if you were to succeed?"

"International patents and copyrights, for a start."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Patents and copyrights are no guarantee of long-term control. They expire a mere fifty years after you do- which, might I add, could be considerably sooner than you think if you persist with projects that have similarly 'wide-ranging applications.'"

"So what do you think I should do with this discovery, if not use it to better mankind?"

"Nothing. This potion, if in fact such a thing exists, does far greater service to the world by being lost in the mists of time."

"This is just wonderful," she said through clenched teeth. Another mutilated vine fell to the forest floor. "I can't believe you're advising me to sit on the most important discovery of my career, without even looking at the ingredients or my notes to see if it might be altered for pharmaceutical use. Are you reflexively this difficult or do I merit special treatment?"

"Really, Miss Granger," the old name was as comfortable on his tongue as the scorn, "have you ever known me to treat you preferentially? Therapeutic uses would be even more disastrous. People would take this potion to avoid seeing a Mediwitch or wizard, thus causing themselves further harm. Broken bones would heal without being set, curable cancers would go undiagnosed until the point of widespread metastasis, and I trust I need not go into the psychological effects. All pain exists for a reason, Miss Granger. To rid the world of it indiscriminately would be unconscionable."

"There are a number of magics that are strictly controlled by the International Federation of Wizards, as well as Ministries of Magic. Just because magic may be misused doesn't mean it shouldn't exist. What about Veritaserum? Or Divination?"

"Or the Unforgivables? Surely you don't argue that they have positive uses as well."

She was blessedly silent for a moment, and he went the kill.

"Furthermore, I fail to understand how easily you dismiss what lessons Incan history teaches us. Their time of power was a violent and bloody time, and their magic reflected this. We should not strive to emulate them or seek their answers for our problems. Surely you've studied history enough to know that it repeats itself if its lessons are forgotten."

Rather than looking abashed, as he had expected, she shot him a suspicious look. Fortunately, she turned from him and continued chopping through the underbrush.

It was with an air of innocence that she asked him about his own research at Hogwarts and how it related to his being in Peru. He was instantly wary. He had hoped she wouldn't put two and two together so quickly, if at all.

"I am in search of several potions ingredients for my private use." Now shut up, he added mentally.

"Such as?" Her innocence had taken on a distinct predatory edge.

"Q'ararenqa tail feathers-"

"Q'ararenqa are far more common over in Manu National Park than around here. And it is one of the few areas where the government regularly permits magical harvest of endangered species."

"I didn't come for just the feathers, idiot girl. I also wanted native pepper, algarroba pods, chicken foot plant-"

"All are also found in far more accessible places. Were there any species in particular that drew you to this area?"

Shit. She was on to him. Divert! Deflect! "Dear me, Miss Granger, you seem to think me no better than Puquio. You had better alert the authorities- or perhaps it might be difficult to explain why you were not planning to turn me in. I'm sure they'd be quite interested."

She ignored this. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for a rare plant, would you, Professor?"

"Miss Granger, I insist that you desist in pointing your wand at me!"

"You wouldn't happen to be looking for a particular orchid, would you, Professor?"

He pulled out his own wand. "Calm yourself, you silly little-"

"You wouldn't happen to be looking for the Black Star, the rare orchid which just happens to be the active ingredient of my pain-blocking potion, would you, Professor?"

"STOP CALLING ME 'PROFESSOR!'"

She blinked, and her ire seemed to recede. "So you don't deny that you're trying to make the same potion you're discouraging me from making?"

"I have no wish to deny it," Severus spat.

"So your self-proclaimed ethics extend only so far as to prevent me from patenting the potion and process before you did? You sneaky, manipulative-"

"If I may," Severus interrupted. "I still stand by every statement I made earlier. The potion must never be generally known. I have no desire to make the discovery public. I was planning to create the potion purely for private use."

"Do you think that just because you're making it that it's more protected than by copyrighting or patent? Your work could be stolen or discovered it at any time."

"Perhaps you are somewhat unsure of your ability to keep things hidden and secret. I have no such insecurities."

"And I have no such hubris to think myself invulnerable."

"And why should anyone be interested in me, pray tell? Do I flaunt my knowledge or skill... outside the classroom," he amended at her look of disbelief. "In any event, the fact that there are research facilities at Hogwarts is one of the best guarded-secrets at academia. If it were widely-known, do you think we'd have trouble finding Defence Against the Dark Arts instructors?" His eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware that your lot ever came across those rooms, as they are unplottable, so how did you know?"

"No, we never went looking for them," she replied quickly, though her suddenly closed expression caught his interest. "But that's not important."

"Come now, Miss Granger. You know my dirty little secret; what's yours?"

"I hardly think that making arcane potions is very high on the list of Severus Snape's Important Secrets," she said in lofty tones. "And if you must know, I figured it out on my own following a trip to your uncommonly well-stocked storeroom during my second year. There were ingredients there that no student would ever be allowed to access, much less use."

Potter really hadn't been the Boomslang Bandit? Who'd have believed it? Was she behind the gillyweed disappearance, too? "Odd, I don't recall ever having given you permission to enter my storeroom."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously, Professor. But we're straying dangerously far from the point. I want to make the potion, and I can't do it by myself. You don't approve of me publishing my findings. You want to make the potion and you can't find all the ingredients without my help. There appears to be only one solution."

"Let me guess: you want me to work with you for the next two days - which is all the time I have, incidentally - to create an incredibly complex potion, the unparalleled zenith of our thus-far mediocre careers, and then just walk away, satisfied."

She looked slightly unsure of herself. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

"Besides the fact that we'd hex one another into oblivion after collaborating for more than two minutes, and my grave doubts as to whether we should even consider doing this, there is no way that two people can re-create in two days a process that took the Inca two hundred years to discover, much less reduce it to only its positive effects."

"Oh, that."

'Oh, that,' indeed. Arrogant child.

"I guess you're right. We'll have to compare notes before we can decide if it's possible."

It was much easier to ignore her galling optimism when it was so easy to deflate. "What makes you think that comparing notes will make the task any less impossible?"

"Well, I know for a fact that you couldn't possibly have got your information from the same source I did, so I'm hoping your source contains a few details that mine doesn't, and vice versa."

"And what makes you so sure that our sources are different?"

The annoying gleam was back. "My source material is 700 year-old web of knotted ropes that I pulled from a concealed opening in the middle of a cliff face. I am fairly sure it is unique."

He refused to admit being impressed. "You've forsaken your precious library for an antique cat's cradle? I can only assume you've been in the sun too long."

She bristled. "For your information, Professor, the Inca had a very complex system of knotted and coloured ropes that allowed them to record all aspects of their lives. When the historians finished knotting the quipu, the Willaq Uma put spells into each knot-"

"I knew that, you silly girl," he snapped. "Stop speaking to me as you would Longbottom."

She hacked through a few low-hanging branches before speaking again. "We're not far from the ranger station, now. The rangers are all Muggles, but they know most of us in the research camp. I'll have to bring in Puquio alone so as not to look suspicious."

"Like appearing to have taken down an armed mercenary armed only with a knife?"

She sent him a withering look. "Unlike some, I happen to be quite fond of 'foolish wand-waving.'"

A moment later, her knife had been transfigured into a gleaming machine gun, and the teeth and vials adorning her belt had become extra rounds of ammunition.

"It doesn't actually shoot," she explained at his wary look. "But it should fool Puquio and the rangers, don't you think?"

"It might be a little more intimidating if it looked as if it had actually been fired."

"Good point," she said, adding some artful scratches and dents with a flick of her wand. "Is that better?"

"Infinitely." He pointed his wand at the unconscious man still bobbing in the air. "Would you like to do the honours, or should I?"

"You'd better let me take him and wait here, Professor. It would be much easier if I didn't have to explain your presence. They can be rather rough to outsiders."

"Your obvious experience reassures me greatly."

She ignored his tone of voice and tossed him a plastic bag filled with a lumpy blob of something. "Have some of that while you're waiting. You'll need to keep your strength up."

He eyed the brown mass with distaste. "What is it?"

"CHUMP."

"Chump?"

"Chocolate Honey Utopia with Macadamias and Peanuts. Enough sugar to wake you up, enough protein to keep you going. Aunt Ruth's secret recipe. It's actually just fudge with nuts and honey added, but Tino renamed it in honour of the Coca Harvest Undercover Magical Police who 'inspect' our camp periodically. They found a bag of it during one of their first inspections and stayed for another two hours while I made a new pan of it for them. Don't eat it all before I get back."

She began to lead the unconscious man away, when a sudden thought occurred to him.

"Wait."

He approached the floating body and pulled a wad of notes from Puqiuo's jacket pocket.

"There's no need to look so scandalized, Miss Granger. Puquio failed to find the orchid I was looking for, and I'm simply retracting the fee he was paid to do so. Besides, discovering large amounts of cash on his person might lead to inconvenient questions."

"If you say so," She turned to leave again. "I do hope this means you'll pay me equally well when we find the Black Star, Professor."

His lips tightened. "You're not going to stop calling me 'Professor,' are you?"

He could no longer see her through the brush, but her laughter floated back to him. "Only if you stop calling me 'Miss Granger.'"

He sat down at the base of a large tree and gazed up at the enormous canopy overhead, feeling an odd sort of peace settle over him. The CHUMP was tasty. It occurred to him that in the unlikely event that he was lucky, the Cusco trip might almost turn out to be worthwhile. Just to be contrary, he set his process-honed mind to the task of figuring out exactly how to make Aunt Ruth's Secret Fudge. Even if the whole trip turned out to be for naught, he'd at least have a new sweet for Albus.

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