Blood Lines

Snape silently stalked to the farthest corner of the room and slouched into a wingback chair. (His preferred spot when things he wasn't happy with had to be done anyway.)

Taking this familiar action as a tacit consent Albus continued, "Harry and Hermione, you are both here because I feel that Ron should be able to talk with you about this without breaking his word to me."

From the corner Snape was paying attention to not just the words spoken but also the reactions to those words. And their implications. 'The Headmaster's right, he would have told them eventually. Now they all have to keep quiet or else they'll break faith with him.'

Turning reassuring eyes to Ron, Albus continued, "Your father was here when, as Professor Snape has already stated, Professor Phineas Cooliage died. Your father has probably told you some of the story of what happened. Is that right?" At Ron's hesitant nod he gently asked, "Would you please tell us what Arthur told you of that day."

Ron looked nervously around him. The Headmaster's office was really more like a sitting room. Instead of a few chairs in front of a desk, there were mostly couches and settees. A few of these had been pulled up to the table that now held the tea things that had been offered earlier. He could see Snape but the dark fabric of the chair and the shadows in the corner were almost enough to make him disappear.

It was enough to give Ron the courage to begin his father's old story: "Professor Cooliage was the Potion Master when my father came to school here. Dad says he was a real- er, head of Slytherin too." Ron paled at what he had almost said. 'If Snape can read minds like Fred and George say, I'm dead.' "Uh, well my father said that, I think it was a Friday, Professor Cooliage left class early. Just before he left he started coughing and kind of choking. As he was leaving he threw up this black slime. At least that's what father heard," Ron stopped.

"Did your father tell you what he heard happened next?" Dumbledore gently prompted.

"Um, yah. He said that on Monday a substitute was there for potions and at dinner you told everyone that Cooliage had died, of PMR." Ron was sick at his stomach remembering the man in the corner who was watching his every move.

With a slight smile, conveying reassurance to Ron, Albus now turned to Lupin who was sitting on his left. "Remus, would you please tell us what you know of PMR?"

The calm in his voice had cost him and Minerva noticed. 'He is being too hard on himself over this. Severus must have known- but I have to be strong to help Albus, it'll be like loosing a son to him.'

Remus Lupin suddenly understood how Ron had felt. 'I can't do this, he's right here. We're talking about him like he can't hear. Or like he's already dead.' With these thoughts running through his head, he was startled when Harry reached over and nudged him. "Ah... well the um... Defense Against Dark Arts doesn't really cover this," he stalled. Looking to the back corner he could see that Snape had curled up in his chair and was apparently taking a nap. 'Of course he's not asleep. He can hear every word you're saying and he's trying to withdraw from all of this. I sure hope Albus knows what he's doing here.' Lupin drew a deep breath and in his most boring 'Lecture Voice' began to recite what he knew, "The actual status of Potion Master is achieved through a proven level of skill. The reason that there are so few accredited Potion Masters is because it is the only position a wizard can hold that will kill him or her. PMR, or Potion Master's Rue, is a malady unique to the status of Potions Master." He stood up and turned so that he could face the group but with his back to Snape's corner. Slightly more at ease, he continued. "The potion vapor that the average wizard will inhale over his lifetime does not approach the level of toxicity that a Potion Master breathes. As these fumes are absorbed the average wizard is able to flush them from his system. Potion Masters however by the nature of their job overwhelms their body's natural defenses. This over exposure causes a build up of chemicals in the body. These chemicals are not inert however and eventually a, critical mass, is reached. There is nearly always a violent reaction that is the immediate cause of death. This has become known as catalyzing."

Ron gulped and fidgeted a little remembering his father's stories of what had happened to the former Head of Slytherin.

Remus continued, "The initial signs that one is developing PMR are. One, the skin begins production of a dark oily substance that discolors the hair and distorts skin tone. This is because the skin is trying to exude the residual chemical build up through the oil glands. Two, a darkening of the irises. There are a few more minor symptoms and then near the end, things speed up again. Signs that it is reaching the end stage are the production of a thick black phlegm, a loss of appetite, and sensitivity to light. The last symptoms that I am aware of are a blackening of the whites of the eyes and gums." Not able to look anyone in the eye Remus sat back down heavily and lowered his head to his hands.

Silence hung thick in the air again as every one tried not to look at Snape who had quietly walked around the group to stand just behind the three Gryffindors. He silently shook his head and glanced down at the children.

Albus understood his meaning and turned to Lupin, "Remus what do you know of the experimental drug, Necratonin?"

Looking up from his hands with a startled expression he said, "Only that it's supposed to halt the progression of the disease. But it only works in the latter stages- " Lupin's eyes flew to meet Severus'; the other looked coldly back. His eyes had a slightly marbled look.

The Headmaster quickly interceded almost as though he had heard Severus' unspoken plea. "Severus will be using the drug Necratonin as a means of controlling the effects of the disease. He will also be seeing a specialist about alternative treatments," he said, trying to reassure the children. The Headmaster sought Ron's eyes. Ron nodded; it was all he could do.

'The drug is new. Cooliage didn't have it, and Dumbledore says we're safe. Just relax Dumbledore would never allow something to endanger the students. Yah that's why he keeps Snape on the faculty- Breathe!' Ron took a sudden breath and reddened when everyone turned to him.

Minerva was now worried about the ability of her three young charges to handle the very weighty matter that had been forced upon them. 'As head of Gryffindor it is my duty to protect them, but... Albus will not be able to make an objective decision about this, he's so fond of that ghoulish bat,' she worried as she fought with her own rather unwelcome twinge of fondness. "I believe that it is almost time for curfew. If that is all, I will escort Harry, Ron and Hermione back to Gryffindor tower." Looking to Dumbledore for a signal, she saw only a slight raising of one hand. But she understood the discretionary power she had been given. 'If they ask anymore questions of course I would be the one to answer them. What was I expecting? Hermione could come up with some rather delicate questions though. I just hope I have the right answers.' She fretted as she led them from the room.

Snape saw Albus flinch when Lupin finally broke the tableau that had been created by the departure of most of the room's occupants.

"Didn't some people die? When old Cooliage..." he voice suddenly faded as he lapsed back into silence.

There was a pause while Snape took a seat in the circle around the tea table and poured himself a cup. "That's another thing," Remus said with more confidence, "PMR takes a long time to set in. More than just a few years, or even a few decades. You shouldn't be old enough to have it." He had turned to face Severus, but at the unwavering eye contact that was so typical of the Potion Master he was forced to look away. At such close range the shadows in his eyes were too obvious. "How old are you?" Remus asked while looking into his tea.

"I'm twenty nine," Severus nearly cooed, knowing that it would start a confrontation or maybe, even a fight.

It did.

"Impossible!" Remus shouted.

Albus immediately placed a silencing charm on the door then settled back to watch, 'The Show,' as he had come to think of it. Over the years he had noticed that Severus liked to bait people into doing what he wanted. Using their own riled tempers against them. 'It almost looks as though he is trying to put Remus off by feeding him pointless but surprising information. If he does the poor soul won't be able to figure out any of tonight's events,' he mused.

"No it is not impossible," Snape countered, sounding almost bored. "You have most of the facts but not the right starting point." At the bewildered look this got from Lupin he continued, "I started my First Year here when I was seven. Seven years to graduation makes me fourteen. Fifteen years as Potion Master adds up to twenty-nine."

Lupin's eyes flew to Dumbledore's in desperation. "He's lying, he must be," he nearly begged.

Trying to clear away the confusion that Severus had so skillfully created Albus spoke firmly, "No he is not lying. He is in fact twenty-nine years old." Sitting back in his chair Dumbledore regarded the man before him. Lupin still showed signs of the hard times he had had since leaving his newly reacquired position as the DADA teacher two years ago. 'It was a stoke of good fortune that I was able to reach him in time for the new term,' he reflected. 'With things developing so fast I need to have everyone close by. Which brings up the question of Sirius... Severus will be less than pleased with what I have to ask of him but I can think of no other way.' Having mentally painted himself into a corner he took a breath, 'better to just ask him now,' "Severus, do you still have those extra rooms?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at the sudden shift in conversation, mistrustful of his elder's intentions. "You mean the guard quarters?" he cautiously asked.

"The guest rooms, yes." Albus had been trying for years to get him to refer to the various dungeon rooms in a more pleasant way. 'How long can he live down there and still think of them as guard quarters? Does he think of some of the other rooms as torture chambers?' This thought unnerved him a great deal.

"I think the House Elves maintain them. I wouldn't know though. I never go into that section," Severus' offhanded tone rang warning bells for the Headmaster.

Unable to see what was amiss though he was forced to wait until something developed. "Lupin I would like to have your things moved to one of Severus' spare rooms," Albus informed them both. Blank looks were on both of the pale faces that turned to him, "Also, Sirius Black will be joining the two of you there by tomorrow night." 'I just hope he doesn't take this out on the students,' Albus wearily thought.

No one noticed that the cheerily burning fire had turned a telltale shade of green. That is, until a letter bearing the seal of the ministry shot out and landed on the table between them. Lupin jumped, Snape dumbly looked down at it. Albus blinked reached toward it and read it. Then read it again. The third time he read it aloud.

~~~ From the Office of the Ministry of Magical Education.

To Albus Dumbledore- Headmaster of Hogwarts School Of Witch craft and Wizardry,

This letter is to inform you that Hogwarts School Of Witch craft and Wizardry is no longer in compliance with section 5 paragraph 17 article number 31b, the regulations regarding the providing of both male and female heads of house. The legal 'active' status of the above named institution will be revoked barring official extension of no more than one (1) month; you will be forced to discontinue operating in the capacity of an accredited boarding school.

The deadline for application for extension requests is the close of the Ministry workday on the 10^th of September of the year 2003~~~

"But that's tomorrow! What in the world does that mean?" Lupin demanded. The day's events had clearly been too much for him.

"You have to go to London and try to straighten this out," Snape said with a slight note of tension in his voice, "You can't let them close down the school."

"I should leave right now, but how could these new regulations have been passed without my knowledge?" wondered Albus.

"Fudge has had it in for you for the past several years." Snape pointed out, "I would imagine that he was able to strong-arm it through committee and loose your notification letter."

Albus nodded his agreement with this assessment and gathered his things together in preparation for his unexpected departure. "Tell Minerva what is going on and show her the letter," he instructed Snape, "Make sure that Remus gets to the guestroom and meet Sirius when he arrives. I think I've got everything," checking his pockets one last time he moved to the fireplace.

"Headmaster! I was able to contact that specialist I mentioned." Severus rushed to tell him. "He has an available slot tomorrow night, I know the timing is bad but, if Black gets here in time?"

"Yes, go even if he isn't. Its more important that we get answers to some of these questions than it is that you make sure that Remus has company while he sleeps off the Wolf's Bane Potion," Albus said as he threw Floo powder into the fire and gave the name of the appropriate office. He was quickly whisked from the sight of the two new neighbors.

"Well, I guess I'd better get my stuff," Lupin said, turning from the hearth. "What did you mean by 'Guardrooms'?" Lupin was more than a little worried about his new quarters.

"I meant Guardrooms," Snape sneered. "It is a dungeon."

Having said this, he headed for the door to the office and left. Lupin followed, a short way behind. They walked in silence until they reached the corridor.

"Wait here and I'll be right back with my things," Lupin said, sounding rather reluctant.

Instead of answering, Snape crossed the hall and leaned against the wall. Taking this move as his consent, Lupin hurried towards his rooms. Using a short cut that he remembered from his Marauder days, he quickly made his way to his room. In a very short time, he returned to the spot he had left Snape. To his surprise, Snape was still there, leaning back against the wall looking at the floor. As he drew closer Snape shrugged himself off the wall and slowly headed toward the entrance to the dungeon.

"You don't look twenty-nine," Lupin remarked conversationally. Receiving only silence, he tried again, "If you're twenty-nine, how come you look so much older? PMR doesn't affect the aging process."

After a long pause Snape spoke. He sounded distracted, like he wasn't thinking about what he said. "I take Plasti-juice."

"Plasti-juice? Isn't that like Polyjuice?" Remus asked, vaguely remembering a lesson that covered form-altering potions, from his seventh year.

"Polyjuice is for short term use," Snape corrected, still not really paying attention. "For a period of anywhere between a few hours and several days, it's rather harmless," he continued. "With prolonged exposure, though, it will increase your metabolism until you auto-cannibalize yourself to death."

"And Plasti-juice?" Lupin prompted, very curious by now.

"It is relatively safe for long term use, but is rarely used because of the side effects."

'Side effects? He almost sounds like he's had some Veritaserum. Another side effect maybe? Hmmm. This could get interesting!' "Side effects, like what?" he casually pressed Snape.

Without glancing at Lupin or showing any other sign that he was knowingly participating in a conversation about himself, Snape recited a list. "Chronic depression, apathy, insomnia, there are a few others, too, I think. I had to take a dose while I waited for you to get your gear."

'Gear!?' They had reached the stairs that lead to the dungeon and Remus was forced to fall behind for a moment while he organized his trunk and two bags for the trip down. This also gave him a moment to absorb what he had just heard. 'He must have been on it for a long time, 'cause I don't remember him suddenly looking different. Could he have started it slowly enough that the change would go unnoticed?' He halted as a new possibility occurred to him, 'Or could he have started while we were in school? Well, the way he's been acting, I guess I could just try asking.'

He hurried to catch up with Snape. "So," Lupin said, trying to keep his voice calm and neutral. "How long have you been taking this Plasti-juice?"

Having reached the bottom of the stairs, Snape took a left that Remus would have sworn hadn't been there the last time he'd been in the dungeon. They walked for a few minutes before reaching a 'T' intersection. Looking first left then right, Snape turned back to the left.

As he started walking again he answered Lupin without any inflection, "I started it a week before I came here.... Your door should be around here, somewhere..." Severus muttered into the dark corridor.

Just then a house elf came bustling down the hall and, because of the huge pile of linen she was carrying, almost plowed right into Snape. "You were sent to clean and prepare the guard rooms correct?" He demanded of the overloaded elf.

"Oh! Yes, sir, I was, sir. By the Headmaster his self, sir!" she gushed, obviously realizing that Snape would not be pleased with the changes taking place. "Otherwise, I would never have shooed that nasty Bogart out of the bureau. I cleaned both sets of rooms, just like Master Dumbledore said I was to. I know-"

"Good enough, Fenny," Snape interrupted her. "You can show him to his room." Having said this, he headed back toward the dungeon's main hall and was soon swallowed up by the shadows.

"Sir? If Master Professor Lupin would follow Fenny, she will show him to his new quarters." She then took off back down the way she had labored with the old bedding. A short way from the point that they had met up, she stopped and nodded her head at a blank wall. "Your door opens if you say 'Hopper-scotch' but you won't see it, sir. It just lets you pass through."

"Thank you, Fenny, was it? I can get my stuff set up on my own. Goodnight," he dismissed her before she could become too obsequious. As he once again gathered his meager luggage and drew out his wand to activate the door he muttered to himself. "Couldn't even see me to my room? This is a great way to start things off."

"Sir?" Fenny's voice quivered with emotion in the dark behind him.

"Yes, Fenny?" he turned to face the little house elf and was surprised to see, not fear but, anger in her large eyes.

"Master Snape, you should not be saying bad of him. You don't know how," she squeaked in horror at what she had been saying and ran from sight.

With more than enough to occupy his mind, Remus Lupin moved into the Dungeons, one night before the full moon.

@--'---,---------

She waited for a response. Finally looking up she noticed that he was looking at the air in front of the fireplace. She had long ago found that the best way to get his attention was, to do what Albus did at times like these. Gently she placed a hand on his upper arm. He immediately snapped back to attention and stepped out of her reach.

"I don't know, he seamed to think so. He left immediately to see if things could be recovered." He answered without thinking. Looking at her he could tell that whatever he had said had upset her, but he was unable to remember what he had just said. These particular side effects didn't last long, only about half an hour, but they were rather strong, and he was loosing the battle to stay awake.

Minerva saw him sway on his feet and, deciding that she would get more out of him after he slept off the initial effects of the Plasti-juice, she sent him to get some rest.

Without being able to remember how, Snape found that he had made it to his private chambers and was standing beside his bed. Sluggishly, he stripped off the robe he had been wearing all day and lay across the large four-poster bed still clothed in his rather Victorian shirt and pants.

Sleep claimed him quickly, as it always did when the serum was still diffusing into his system. It also (as usual) didn't last long. Twenty minutes later he woke, not quite rested, but not able to sleep any longer either.

Still, several hours before the start of first period (Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third year), he headed to his private lab. His private lab was in one of the most unreachable sections of the dungeon. The room had been chosen because of its inaccessibility. It wouldn't do to have a student on a dare come tripping across the supply lab for the resistance.

'Brewing the industrial volumes of medical potions they ask for is probably what did it.' he thought, not without a bit of self-directed malice.

Snape set to work, filling the most recent order that he had been given.