Apothecary and Auror

Chapter Five: Confrontation in the Corridor

Snape ate lunch in his rooms--or, rather, he took one bite of the ham sandwich he'd asked to have sent up for him from the kitchen and sent the rest back to be thrown away. The rotten odor of the Dementors and the rank smell of Ruskin's sweating terror lingered in his nostrils, making him feel too sick to eat.

He spent the afternoon in his lab, inventorying his ingredients and making up batches of Defenses-Downdraught. Then, very carefully, he poked his head into the infirmary. It was empty. Ruskin's bed was remade, as spotless and wrinkle-free as if he had never struggled there in anger and fear.

Snape crossed to the infirmarian's office, where Healer Shaftsbury was writing notes. He asked the Healer if he needed any medicinal potions made up.

"Why, thank you, Master Snape," Shaftsbury said with a grateful smile. "I'll write you up a list."

He did so, scratching away with his quill for a few minutes. When Shaftsbury handed him the rolled-up parchment, he looked Snape up and down.

"Don't start these today, though, Master, that's my prescription. Make yourself a cup of Bracetea, drink it down and go eat your supper. And make sure the elves give you a big piece of chocolate cake for dessert."

Snape had to obey him. His mind was still dark with the Dementors' horror and his body was faint with hunger.

#

He went to the refectory to eat. It was the only way one could choose from the entire menu. He lined up at a service table with the rest of the professional staff and piled his plate high with roast beef, mashed potatoes and boiled cabbage. There was chocolate cake for dessert. The pieces looked as big as cake-quarters. Snape scooped one up and put it on his tray, along with a glass of milk.

He saw Warden Reid and Potter eating together when he turned toward the refectory tables. He tried to sidle off into one of the corners, but Reid saw him and stopped him with a beckoning wave.

Potter didn't look up. The only way Snape knew him was by the cowlick sticking straight up from the crown of his head.

"Come, Master Snape!" Reid called. "Come sit with us!"

A few of the other staff lifted their heads to look at Snape. Now he couldn't escape. Smothering a sigh of exasperation, he went to sit down at Reid's table, opposite Reid and Potter.

Reid, looking nearly as twinkly and avuncular as Dumbledore at his best, made small talk for a few minutes, mostly along the lines of making sure that Snape was comfortable in his rooms and well-supplied in his lab.

Snape politely replied that he was perfectly content.

"Excellent!" Reid said. "I can flatter myself, then, that I've had some hand in forwarding Ruskin's interrogation. Officer Potter here says that your potion has weakened Ruskin's defenses quite nicely" He turned to smile at Potter's messy dark hair. "Didn't you, Officer?"

Potter looked up, blinking, from his untouched plate of food. "What?"

"Didn't you say that, thanks to Master Snape, you expect Ruskin to break down at any moment?" Reid sounded like a kindly master jollying along a rather slow schoolboy.

Potter looked at Snape. "Oh. Yes. If anybody can do it, Master Snape can."

Why was Snape reminded of all the times Potter had accused him of using Dark Magic, as if the magic Potter had used to torment him had been any less effective?

"Officer Potter is too modest," Snape said, looking right into Potter's eyes. They looked haunted, as well they might. "He's done his share of the work. He hasn't shirked his duty as a--" Snape paused a second "--Ministry Auror."

"They shoot to kill the giants, you know," Lucius had said during one of those manor house weekends. "And they fought as hard as we did against the new werewolf regulations. Probably had some sadists in Corrections who enjoyed putting the beasts to death. Dumbledore's got his nerve, talking about the conservative prejudice against halfbloods. What about the Ministry's prejudice?"

"Of course, of course!" Reid exclaimed. "I wasn't meaning to take away from Officer Potter's credit at all. You're right, he is too modest."

Neither Potter nor Snape said anything to that. Snape was sick of the conversation. Perhaps Potter was, too. He made a show of pushing his food around on his plate, but actually ate very little.

Snape, however, was ravenous. He polished off his meat and vegetables, ate every last crumb of the chocolate cake and washed it down with his milk. Reid had sense enough and Potter had self-absorption enough to leave him in peace through the rest of his meal.

Snape bade them both a curt good evening when he was done. He rose from the table and left his tray on the top of the stack by the service counter.

He had nearly escaped--was striding through the hallway to the stairs that led up to his lab--when he felt a hand touch his arm.

Snape started and spun on his heel. It was Potter. Lifting his hands, he backed off a step. "Easy, Snape."

Lording it over Snape, as he'd done in the infirmary with Ruskin. "Don't patronize me!" Snape snapped. "You've no victim to impress here!"

Potter blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Snape wouldn't flatter him with an answer. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"A word with you, that's all," Potter said. "Will you calm down?"

Snape glared at him in silence.

"I just want to know why you're here," Potter said. "Did you know this was my rotation?"

"How on earth would I know that and why on earth would I care?"

"It's just that Reid claims he's been begging the Ministry for a potioner for weeks. You're the first he's managed to get."

"I volunteered. It looked like something that would be good for my career."

Potter stared in astonishment, then snorted a bitter laugh. "Good for your career? How did they sell you that one?"

"Why are you here, then?"

"It was my turn. I could skive off, I suppose. Dad doesn't like it; he'd pull strings..."

It was undoubtedly true. Harold Potter, James's father, the head of his rich, respectable pureblood family and Second to Chief Warlock Dumbledore on the Wizengamot, could probably get anything he wanted.

"But I couldn't do that to my mates," James Potter said quickly. "Make somebody else pull a double Azkaban rotation because my dad's been able to talk Crouch into letting me off."

Potter paused, looking as sober as Snape had ever seen him. "Besides, we've got to stop the Death Eaters. Maybe the Dementors are too...I don't know. I don't know! But we've got to stop Voldemort's crew. Anybody who stands up to them--" Potter snapped his fingers in the air, then waved his hand "--they're gone. Murdered. Tortured into madness or death--"

"The acts of hooligans," Snape said. "The fringe elements. The entire Party isn't like that."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "How would you know?"

How did Potter think he knew? Snape bent close to Potter. "Are you bringing your Muggle witch hunt to me, then?" he hissed. "Am I next on the Ministry's enemies list? Will you throw me into a cell next to Ruskin's? Send your Dementors to break me down, too?"

"Easy, Snape--"

"Don't say that to me again. Respectable people, respectable families sympathize with the Death Eaters. They at least don't employ Dementors. What makes you think your lot's so much better than the Dark Lord's?"

"All right, I'm sorry." Potter retreated a step. "Don't quite know what I did, but I'm sorry. " He sighed. "Look. I don't like this any better than you do. Nobody in Law Enforcement does, except maybe Reid. But he's Corrections. Every last witch and wizard in Criminal Investigations fought tooth and nail against the employment of Dementors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Everybody, from Alastor Moody on down. But what can we do? Crouch wants it and Fudge backs him." Potter shook his head. "Fudge is scared to death because we can't get a handle on the Death Eaters. He won't even listen to Dad or Dumbledore."

Dad and Dumbledore, spoken in the same breath, of course. Snape sneered contemptuously. "Why don't you resign in protest? You could announce it publicly. You, your 'Dad' and Chief Warlock Dumbledore could issue a joint press release: 'We abjure the deplorable decision by the Ministry of Magic, unworthy of civilized wizarding Britain and inspired by an unseemly and unnecessary fear of certain criminal elements, to set soul-draining monsters over not only the convicted but also the merely accused inmates of Azkaban.' Et cetera. I'm sure the three of you, great minds that you are, could compose something even more eloquent."

"No. I can't quit. Or at least I--I don't want to yet," Potter said. His look was intent and, somewhat to Snape's surprise, entirely devoid of anger or offense. "I want to solve this within the law, work inside the system. I want to be part of 'civilized wizarding Britain', joined together to fight the outlaws, the criminals, the Dark. I don't want to part of one gang, led by one charismatic wizard, making hits on another gang, led by another charismatic wizard, may the bloke with the biggest wand win. I don't want to live like that. I don't want my child born into a world like that."

"Your child?" Snape said.

Potter flushed deeply. "I, ah--Lily is--I'm going to be a father. Pretty soon now." He sounded winded.

Congratulations. Wasn't that what one was supposed to say? Snape's throat was too tight, his mind too full of Lily's--Healer Potter's--face. Brighter-eyed, rosier-cheeked and even more exhausted than usual. Wasn't that how she'd looked, the last time Snape had worked with her? Or was his imagination embellishing the memory?

"Anyway, I can't quit." Potter's voice broke in on Snape's thoughts. "Even though, however it may be helping yours, this shit is doing absolutely nothing for my career. Or my peace of mind. Or my home life. Or any fucking thing else of mine. So let's leave it at that." Potter turned to go, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow morning in the infirmary, Snape. Seven o'clock sharp."

Snape didn't answer. He watched Potter stride down the corridor and mount the stairs, until Potter's tall frame, his tousled head, the flowing black of his uniform robe and the red-banner brightness of his Auror's sash faded into the ever-close darkness.