In the Cards

A knock had Severus look up from his work station, which was clustered with heavy and dusty tomes stacked on one end, some more opened on the other and loose parchment sheets littering the remaining space. There was barely any inch of parchment that was not covered in his thin and spidery handwriting. The notes had been taken furiously out of every potentially useful book he could have gotten his hands on. Nothing was even remotely close to the problem at hands, but it was information nonetheless, one he couldn’t afford to pass on if he intended to give himself the best chance to find a remedy for Lily.

A second knock seemed to remind him a verbal answer was needed for whoever it was bothering him. He grumbled under his breath at the interruption but gritted out a reluctant “Enter” nonetheless. The door instantly cringed on its hinges at it swung open, revealing his old transfiguration professor. And she did not look particularly happy if the thin line of her lips was anything to go by. Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Funny how cheek was something he resolutely and absolutely abhorred in children but could barely refrain from using himself.

In any case the young man schooled his expression into the blank mask that seemed to have become his trademark in recent times, and patiently waited for the witch to make her way up to his desk. She distastefully eyed her surroundings before lifting her gaze up to her former student with disapprobation. Before Severus could utter an unsavory remark, a quick glance around was enough explanation for her reaction and he thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.

The room was dark… Too dark, and as he took it in, he realized there would be hell to pay for his eyes to get accustomed to natural light once he got out of the dungeons. It was dusty and had been entirely enclosed away from the outside world for Merlin knew how long. There were cauldrons there and about, a few simmering, others thrown haphazardly in the corners with their remains coating the floor, walls and ceiling where it either exploded or fell over. He was lucky he hadn’t poisoned himself. With the remnants of dozens of potions mixing together and now dried on the cold stone, it was a miracle the room was still standing. The young potion Master only now realized how foolish his attitude was, and the full scope of what could have happened finally struck him.

Still, he made no show of that, other than shutting his mouth to seal away whatever unpleasantness he had been about to utter.

“You’ve been cooped up in here for nearly a week, Severus,” Minerva admonished in her usual stern voice that yet could not entirely mask away the concern that was also present in the look she was giving him. “The elves reported you barely touched your food in the past forty-eight hours and judging by the looks of you, you haven’t slept either. Or showered for that matter,” she added with a nose frown.

Severus stiffened, but merely lifted an eyebrow. “What gave you the impression I did not sleep,” he started, entirely ignoring the second, insulting part of her statement, but was interrupted by a deadpan more powerful than his best glares.

“You look like a panda and smell like a raccoon Severus.”

Severus could only open his mouth and close it like a gold fish, before emitting an undignified huff. He scowled and turned his attention away from her. She likely had a point but he would in no way whatsoever acknowledge the potential truth of her words. This was more important than his personal health. Or hygiene.

The last of his experimentation simmering in his last clean cauldron was proof of the contrary when it started bubbling dangerously, a foul gas slowly diffusing in the already stiffening atmosphere of the potions lab. Before he could even comprehend more than imminent explosion, Minerva had vanished the content of the cauldron and cast a few air cleansing spell.

The room was danger-free before Severus could even think of reaching his wand. He sighed and sagged onto himself, nearly falling in the chair behind him. He dropped his head in his hands, breathing slowly.

He heard Minerva draw a chair for herself but paid her no mind until she spoke again. “You’re doing Lily no favor by keeping yourself hidden in here, stupidly risking your life over experimentation you are in no state to indulge in,” she stated softly.

“Indulge in-“ he snapped, head shooting up only to be met with an unflappable look and raised eyebrows that only dared him to counter her argument. He closed his eyes slowly and breathed out, the fight leaving his frame just as quickly as it seized it. She was…unfortunately, absolutely right. He had always prided himself on his excellent safety procedures when dealing with hazardous ingredients and manipulating them into experimenting new concoctions and he had broken every single one of them. Tenfold. And that was putting it mildly.

Yet he couldn’t refrain from the next words to fall out of his mouth. “I am doing this for Lily,” he muttered lamely.

“And what good are you to her if you kill yourself because you were too distracted by the previous failures and caught up in yet another book to realize you cannot leave boom berries and stewed mandrake to simmer without supervision,” she countered.

“It wasn’t unsupervised” he lamely defended.

“And yet, it still nearly exploded in your face. Brilliant supervision Potions Master,” she said dryly.

He deflated once more, sighing deeply.

He eventually opened his mouth once more, hands clasped and elbows on his knees, staring into space.

“I don’t know what to do.”

If she noticed how his voice nearly broke, she didn’t comment on it, thank Merlin. Boy, he was pathetic. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He was desperate. As soon as the Order meeting had met its end, and wizards and witches went to celebrate the end of an era of terror, he had gone back to Lily’s side. Harry had been asleep then, quiet and unperturbed in his crib. He had sat to the chair he had been glued to in the early hours of Lily’s stay in the hospital wing, and once more looked at her unmoving form. He had stayed until the early hours of the morning. The same pale rays of light had penetrated the room and cradled the space in cold and sad light. One last look at the sleeping little boy before he was gone from the room, Poppy never realizing he had been even there, as fat as he knew.

Since then though… Since then he had found himself down here, surrounded by a familiarity that used to have been a sanctuary in his darkest moments and was now only an irritating frustration. He had always been good at potions. Some would even say a genius. It had always come easy: the way ingredients interacted with each other, catalysts, and experimentation. The simmering of a cauldron was music to his ears and the sight of a perfectly brewed potion a comfort.

A comfort he used to share with Lily before his hastily thrown words drove them apart. Now Lily was in a coma, her husband was dead and her son as good as an orphan, all because he had been craving attention and affection in the midst of a madman’s machinations for world domination. Now he was in the middle of a room that more closely resembled a war zone than a potion lab, after starving and exhausting himself for a week for the sake of creating useless mixtures because he was too perturbed to even think properly.

He nearly flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and cursed himself for the instinctive reaction. Habits die hard.

Minerva, bless her soul, did not say a word about it either, and simply squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “How about you do nothing for at least the next twenty-four hours? Get some food into you, and some very needed sleep.”

“But Lily-“

“Lily will still be there in a day or so, Severus,” she admonished gently yet her tone bode no argument. “For better or for worse, she still has seven months in that state, if Poppy’s estimations are correct – which they usually are. We have seven months to solve this puzzle, and we will find a solution.”

Her words soothed a little bit of the despair he could feel nagging in the pit of his stomach, but not enough to keep his mouth shut. He bit his lip and lifted concerned and frowning eyes up at her.

“What if we don’t-“

“We will,” she cut him off, a hard edge to her voice and her expression as sharp as the edge of a blade. “She did not survive that blasted curse only to slip through our fingers once her baby joins us. Lily is a fighter, a lioness,” she added with a hint of a smile tugging her lips. “She proved it alright.”

Severus could only echo the sentiment, face lightening up oh so slightly. He still felt as if in the bottom of the deepest well on earth. But at least now he could see the light.