Chapter 5
September 1990
Madam Pomfrey was just as utterly wonderful as you remembered and you gave her another warm hug.
When you had stumbled into the infirmary, she had gone straight to work; soothing and grounding you, breathing with you deeply and administering a strong Calming Draught.
Now the matron gave you a gentle smile and sent you off with a little bundle- a dose of Calming Draught, Sleeping Draught, and a bar of rich chocolate- and strict instructions to take the weekend off.
Walking through the dark corridors of the castle felt eerie after what had happened; you wondered how long you’d been in the infirmary.
Your body ached for sleep, but you knew you'd rather go get the bag you had left behind in the potions classroom now while it was actually empty, then try to avoid everyone in the morning.
The sneezing started immediately at the dungeons and you rushed into the classroom. Oh right, you still haven't been able to brew a batch of your Quicker Fix’er Elixir.
There was a soft knock, and the door of the classroom opened as you grabbed your bag from where you left it. The dread was instant- your blood went cold. Oh no, you didn't want to do this, you didn't want to face Snape now.
“So sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. I was hoping we could speak before you retired for the evening.”
You released the tense breath you held when you realized it was only the Headmaster who had stepped in. “Oh thank goodness it's you. Yes of course we can talk.”
Dumbledore gave you a sympathetic smile and gestured for you to sit down at the students table.
“I hope you're feeling better? The school is abuzz about the whole thing. You’ve become quite popular with many students.” His eyes twinkled with humor, but you weren't sure what he meant.
“A young bright professor standing up to the dreaded potions master. It becomes a more heroic tale with each retelling.”
Ah now you understood, and you couldn’t help grinning. You were worried you’d lose your credibility with the students and the staff. Looks like it had had the opposite effect. “Well that definitely makes me feel better. I’m glad to hear I’m not the laughing stock of the school.”
Dumbledore chuckled and nodded, “Working with Severus will be a challenge- you have your work cut out for you.” His eyes fixed on yours and he continued slowly. “Beyond that, I wanted to see how you have been doing. I’ve heard you’ve been adjusting well to your new responsibilities, but I wanted to ask you for myself.”
You shifted uncomfortably and lowered your gaze, unsure of how to answer. He knew everything about your situation, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk about. Still, it was nice to have someone like Dumbledore take an interest in your welfare.
“I know things have been difficult. After the passing of your grandmother, and with your elder brothers… delicate situation,” he pressed gently.
“I’m better. Really I am.” The words came out strained, “It’s still hard sometimes, but being here has helped. I’m feeling useful; starting to feel like myself more and more.” You looked up at him, eyes shining from the growing tears. “I can't thank you enough for doing this for me. For letting me come back.”
Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I know how difficult it is to lose those closest to us. It becomes far too easy to fall into a pit of despair.”
You nodded and stared down at your lap, biting back a sob, as a few tears fell down your face. It was true; after your grandmother had died two years ago, everything had become too much to handle. You had run from it all and hid away. If it hadn’t been for Dumbledore, for his compassion, you'd still be there in that dark place. He offered you an escape, by letting you come back- back to Hogwarts- the only other place that had ever felt like home.
You had been surprised by the invitation; after what happened with your brother in the summer before your fourth year, your grades had suffered, and you had struggled to keep on top of your studies. But he knew about that too and said the grades didn’t matter- he saw your potential.
Dumbledore waited patiently while you worked to collect yourself. “It’ll be alright. I know you’ll be able to make it through this year. It’ll be arduous work, but you’ve dealt with that grumpy old dungeon bat before.” He gave you a mischievous wink that made you burst into giggles.
“But if it does become too much, let me know. I’ll help you however I can."
You nodded and brushed away the remaining tears, missing the quick and sudden glance he gave toward the classroom door that was now open just a crack.
“Hmm.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I know this is sudden, but I wonder if you would be able to make me a batch of that wonderful elixir of yours? If it isn’t too much trouble? I’ve got a painful cough that seems to come and go.”
There was a glimmer of something strange in his eyes that you didn’t really understand, but you didn't have a problem making him a potion. It was the least you could do after everything.
“Oh, yes, of course. It’s no trouble at all; I was actually planning on making a batch today.”
“Excellent.” He gave the wand in his hand a flick and the table you sat at came to life- candles lit up, tools began to shift, and the fire under the cauldron ignited. “How can I help?”
“Would you mind getting me powdered asphodel, ground nettle, and dittany extract from the shelf Headmaster?”
“Just Albus is fine my dear.” He found the three glass containers from the cupboard, while you dug out your own ingredients from your bag and laid them out on the table besides the cauldron.
“Lets see, turmeric paste, butterbur root, and althaea syrup.” you muttered.
The tips of your fingers had already begun to tingle in excitement despite your physical and emotional exhaustion; it always happened when you worked magic, but especially when you were brewing. Sparks started building up behind your fingers and eyes and in your chest that sent you into a sort of exhilarated trance, until the only thing that existed was the magic and the elements you would work until they formed something wholly new.
You pushed aside all the painful emotions and memories. This was where you belonged. This was what you were meant for.
Let the cauldron rise to a gentle boil with a knob of peeled butterbur root. As it comes to, whisk althaea syrup to a foam in a separate vessel, add three drops of dittany extract.
Your hands moved with well practiced fluidity, and you started to hum softly under your breath. Not an incantation, but a rhythm that set the pace for your brew.
A counter-clockwise stir to add the powdered nettle, until the mix turned beige. Clockwise for the powdered asphodel root to make the mix a deep azure.
By now it had come to a rolling boil- the next step crucial. Stirring in figure eights at just the right speed to add the turmeric paste.
You held your breath. The mixture turned a cool green, and you quickly shut off the fire. More figures eights until the mix cooled, before gently folding in the froth.
You beamed when the potion settled into a sea-foam hue, with a gentle puff of white smoke.
“Just perfect…” you muttered and inhaled deeply, “Liquelevi.” A quick wave of the wand and the liquid in the cauldron floated lazily up and out, pouring itself into the bottle you had ready.
Dumbledore watched you thoughtfully as you finished up, his eyes still gleaming bright.
“Incredible how such simple ingredients take such powerful form in the hands of a master.” he praised and took the bottle you handed to him. That made you blush. Why couldn't he have been the one to teach you potions?
He cast a charm that quickly set the room to normal and cleaned off the table, before thanking you again and wishing you good luck and a good night's sleep.
You bid him goodnight and headed to your quarters. It was for the best to just try and put this whole day behind you. You’d keep a low profile for a few days- or maybe weeks- until Snape had cooled off. Then… Well you weren’t sure just yet. All you knew that you were going to avoid him and potions for as long as you could.