Unintended Consequences

Chapter 1: The Apothecary's Assistant

Severus Snape sat on a high wooden stool, hunched over a pair of bubbling cauldrons. He stirred the cauldron on the right steadily, remembering to add a clockwise stir after each dozen counter-clockwise turns of his wand. Every once in a while, he switched his attention to the cauldron on the left, and added another pinch of the dried, chopped violets piled neatly on the worn wooden surface of the worktable next to the cauldron. The sallow skin of his face glistened from a thin sheen of sweat, for despite the cool, rainy October day outside, the windowless room in which he was working was uncomfortably stuffy from the heat of the flames and the fumes of the potions.

He hoped Madam Sophronia would not walk in. The flowers were a strictly non-regulation ingredient for the Strengthening Solution, but he had discovered they increased the shelf life of the finished potion considerably while adding a beneficial analgesic effect. His employer, however, did not set any store by his discoveries. His black eyes flashed as he remembered the time, a couple of months ago, when she had made him brew a new batch of Euphoria from scratch after happening to come in when he was adding peppermint to it. He had reeled off a sound theoretical explanation of the reasons peppermint would lessen the most common side effects of Euphoria, but it had fallen on deaf ears.

He supposed he should just make the potions her way, but he couldn't accept it. It seemed wrong to use a less efficient process, or to use ingredients which resulted in an inferior final product. If one was going to make a potion at all, one should make the best potion possible.

NEWTs and book learning did not matter very much in Knockturn Alley, he knew. His Outstanding NEWT in Potions made him more than qualified for this job, but he knew that was not why Madam Sophronia had hired him. That piece of paper from the Ministry meant nothing; the fact that he was the grandson of Airmid Prince, whose potions were well-regarded throughout Knockturn Alley, meant everything.

His lips twisted into a bitter smile as he reflected that in this regard, Knockturn Alley was not much different from the Ministry of Magic. His assortment of NEWTs had not yet gotten him a post over candidates with lower grades and better Wizarding family connections. Even the Death Eaters were less selective. Unfortunately for him.

He had become a Death Eater about a year ago, and his duties mostly involved brewing Potions. Almost like his day job, without the pay. Although the infrequent odd jobs involving unique cursed items or other applications of Dark Magic could be quite interesting. Occasionally, because of his low profile, he would also be assigned to surveillance, as he had been the night he overheard a candidate for the post of Divination Professor make a prophecy in front of Albus Dumbledore.

He recalled the one and only raid he had been on, shortly after he had reported the prophecy. A test of his courage and his loyalty, he had been told, that all Death Eaters had to pass. He suspected the assignment had at least as much to do with the fact that he had been caught eavesdropping on Albus Dumbledore while on duty.

The target had been a young witch, a pureblood, not at all powerful or pretty, just having the bad luck to have relatives who had angered the Dark Lord. Letitia McKinnon, that was her name. He doubted he would ever forget her face, either. She had been no threat to them, or to anyone else. The others, whose duties involved participating in such raids regularly, had been happy to attend to the torture and killing themselves, he had just watched. He had said nothing and done nothing, knowing that to do otherwise would be to meet her fate. He had been fervently grateful for the mask he wore, which had hidden not only his identity but also his feelings from the others. It was a test he had passed, with flying colors. He was a coward, and that would keep him loyal to the Dark Lord, come what may.

He realized abruptly that he had no idea how many counter-clockwise turns he had made. Another advantage of his job, the close attention potion making required served to keep out other thoughts, most of the time.

Suddenly, the door from the shop creaked open. Snape cursed under his breath; the last of the dried violets were still piled before the nearly finished cauldron of Strengthening Solution. His employer was supposed to have been busy with her weekly inventory of the front room of the shop for at least another couple of hours.

Straightening, he pushed his damp, shoulder-length black hair back from his face and turned to look towards the door. It was indeed his employer, a very short, plump little witch. The mass of snow-white hair piled high under an enormous, fruit-bedecked hat in a style that had been popular among Muggles about a century ago only served to make her seem even shorter. Her beady black eyes and wrinkled face were positively glowing.

"Hello, Severus! We just got a large order today," she explained, rubbing her claw like hands together. Her voice dropping to a whisper, she added "Veritaserum antidote." This explained her good mood, Snape realized. Veritaserum and its antidote were Ministry-controlled substances, illegal to make, let alone sell, without the appropriate licenses. Licenses could only be obtained by persons willing to explain their need to make such a potion. Persons not willing to explain their need for it could be expected to pay a large premium to preserve their privacy.

"I'll have to check on our stocks of moonflower," Snape said. "When will they need it?"

"As soon as possible, he said," she responded. Snape got up from the stool and walked over to the storage shelves. Rolling the ladder up to the right spot, he climbed up and opened the appropriate jar.

"If he needs more than a couple of vials, we don't have enough," Snape told her. Looking down, he saw she had walked over to his worktable and was standing on her tiptoes to peer into the cauldron.

"I'll run out and see if I can't buy some this afternoon; it would be good for us to make a start on it today," she responded. "But what are you doing with the Strengthening Solution? You know I don't like these newfangled ideas," she added with a frown. Snape climbed down from the ladder and walked over.

"If you add violets in the final stage of the brewing process, the finished potion retains its effectiveness for a couple of months, and can help to ward off aches and pains," Snape explained. "This is the batch for St. Mungo's. They could really use that."

"Severus, I am generally more than pleased with the quality of your work, you know that," she said, her voice rising in exasperation. "But I have made it quite clear you are to use the standard recipes in my workshop. You'll just have to brew up a new batch for St. Mungo's this evening, is all. They are a regular client and I will not risk disappointing them. Hold on to what you've made, though. If it really does keep, maybe we can bottle some to keep on the shelves out front."

"Yes, Ma'am," Snape said disgustedly.

"Well, I'm off," she said, bustling back out towards the front room. As she left, she turned back. "I'll leave the door open while I am out shopping. You'll have to attend to any customers who happen by while I am away."

"Yes, Madam Sophronia," Snape agreed, sitting back down on his stool.

The remainder of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Snape finished the two potions he had been working on and poured them into bottles neatly labeled with the name and date. He sold a few bottles of off-the-shelf potions to customers who, for whatever reason, preferred to shop at Madam Sophronia's instead of the larger, more popular apothecary shops of Diagon Alley. He looked over the potions in various stages of long-term brewing to be sure they had all the ingredients and stirring they needed for the night.

Finally, he got the containers of ingredients for the Veritaserum antidote off the high storage shelves. As he was measuring out dried, powdered newt skin using the small copper scales, his employer came bustling back into the workshop.

"Here're the moonflowers...Oh, I see you're starting already. Excellent, I'll just go and shut up the shop, and then join you." She dropped a few parcels on the table next to Snape and bustled back out.

She returned shortly, now hatless and wearing a large, leather apron over her fancy, old-fashioned robes. As Snape continued his preparations, she started a magical fire on the worktable and with expert flicks of her wand, set up a huge cauldron far too heavy for her to lift above it. Standing up on another stool, she started adding the ingredients Snape handed up to her, humming a sentimental-sounding tune Snape did not recall ever hearing before under her breath.

In the two years he had been working at the shop, Snape had gradually taken over most of the potion making from her. He supposed it was the importance of the unknown customer that led her to involve herself in the making of this batch. A loud banging on the back door of the workroom interrupted his thoughts.

"Merlin's beard and whiskers!" exclaimed Madam Sophronia, hopping down from the stool with agility surprising in a woman of her years, as Snape hastily drew his wand. Knockturn Alley was actually surprisingly safe for its shop-owners, since the more dangerous denizens relied on their services, but both he and his employer had their reasons to fear the Ministry.

"Severus, you just be ready to Vanish that mess on my signal," she hissed as she bustled over to the door to peer through the peephole. As she fumbled with the deadbolt, a relieved smile replaced her worried frown. Snape relaxed. To his surprise, the door opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy, dressed as always in immaculately-cut dark robes that set off the perfectly groomed silver-blond hair that fell over his shoulders.

"Please, step right in, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Sophronia said, bobbing her head respectfully. "How may I help you? Did you forget something earlier today?"

"Madam Sophronia," Lucius acknowledged her as he stepped into the workroom, his cold grey eyes resting for a moment on the enormous cauldron and piles of ingredients on the worktable. "I see you are already working on my order. I hope this means it would not inconvenience you if I absconded with your assistant."

"You mean Mr. Snape?" she asked, puzzled.

"Severus and I are old school friends, Madam Sophronia," Lucius replied smoothly. "My wife and I had our first child in June, and the baby is crying every night. You know how mothers are. She is convinced a potion Severus once mentioned to her is just what little Draco needs, and she must have it."

"Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy!" she said. "Of course Severus will be of help. I am fortunate to have hired such a talented assistant." Turning to Snape, she added with a broad smile, "I can close up on my own tonight, Severus."

"Good night then, Madam," said Lucius, stepping back outside

"Thank you, Madam Sophronia," said Snape, grabbing the long black cloak that hung from a peg near the door.

As he started out the door, she grasped his arm and hissed, "Tomorrow morning, take the Strengthening Solution you made to St. Mungo's, I'm sure it will be fine." She let his arm fall.

Suppressing the urge to make a sarcastic remark, he said simply, "Good night!"

"Good night, Severus!" she caroled as he joined Lucius in the back alley. After the door closed behind him Snape heard her start singing the old song she had been humming all evening. Lucius looked around him at the narrow, detritus-strewn alleyway, his nose wrinkling in aristocratic disapproval.

"I want to get away from here. Shall we Apparate to my place?" Lucius suggested.

"Very well, Lucius," Snape agreed, swinging the black cloak on around his shoulders. Lucius Disapparated with a small pop and Snape followed.