Chapter Text
“Longbottom. What brings you down to the dungeons?” Professor Severus Snape’s eyebrow arched in the direction of the younger professor standing in the doorway to his office. Merlin, but he could make Neville feel like a firstie again with only a sentence and a look.
“May I come in? I was hoping I could get your professional opinion on something for me. A… research project, you could say.”
Severus gestured minutely toward the chair in across from his desk. “I can hardly offer my opinion if you give me no information on the matter.”
“Right. Okay.” It had taken a full week to psych himself up to ask for the potion master’s help in the first place; he was relying on his Gryffindor bravery to help him follow through. Neville pulled three stoppered potion vials from the pocket of his robes and set them on the desk in between them. “Would you be willing to do a full analysis of these potions for me?”
Severus resisted—barely—the urge the rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Longbottom,” he sighed, “did you brew these? I didn’t realize you replaced me as the school’s potion master.”
“I– yes, I brewed them. And I know what you’re going to say; I remember my utter lack of skill in your class as well as you do.” Neville paused, trying to find the right words without saying too much too fast. “Please, sir. I’ll explain everything after you do the analysis, if you agree to do it.”
Severus scanned the other man with appraising eyes. “Has anyone been subjected to these… untested… brews?”
“I’ve taken one of them; it worked very well. The others are untested.”
“And what are these brews supposed to accomplish, precisely?”
Neville hesitated. “I was hoping that could be part of the explanation after you work your magic. I would prefer if you go through the analysis process without any preconceived notions. Aside from those you have about my brewing skills, which I suppose are unavoidable.”
After a few minutes of silence, which Severus spent flicking his gaze between the potions on the desk and the man in front of him.
“Very well. If you return here after dinner, I should have results for you.” Normally, Severus would require longer for a thorough potion analysis, let alone three of them, but that was usually because he simply prioritized his other responsibilities. Right now, however, it was only his remarkable self-control that kept his hands from twitching with eagerness to get started; his curiosity was piqued.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you then.”
~~~
Neville was enjoying his cottage pie at the staff table in the Great Hall when he felt a tall shadow fall over him. He gulped nervously before turning to face the potion professor staring imperiously down at him.
“Longbottom, I believe our… conversation… tonight will be much more thorough than I originally anticipated. If you are amenable, you may join me in the sitting room of my quarters rather than my office. It is more suited to long conversations.”
It took Neville a few moments to find his breath, but he was quite proud of himself for managing a “sure, professor” without stammering.
Severus simply gave him a firm nod before sweeping out of the Great Hall. As soon as the edge of his cloak whipped through the large doorway, Neville slumped in his seat with a groan.
Sarai Flutterby, who had replaced Minerva as the transfiguration professor when she steeped into the role of Headmistress, waggled her eyebrows at him with a playful nudge of her elbow.
“Got a date with Severus, then?” She teased playfully. “I’ve worked here two years longer than you and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him invite someone to his quarters. Minerva might be the only one of us who has actually been there, and I don’t think she gives him much of a choice.”
Neville massaged his forehead, trying to prevent the headache he already knew was coming. “If you must know, I asked for Snape’s help with a research project. And you heard him; it’s simply more convenient to meet in his quarters for the conversation.”
Sarai leaned back in her chair, an impish grin on her face. “Mmhmm. Whatever you say, Nev.”
~~~
Less than half an hour later, Neville found himself knocking on the door to Severus’ quarters. The door swung upon and Severus led him into the sitting room.
“Tea?” Severus asked, “Scotch?”
Neville swallowed a nervous laugh, surreptitiously rubbing his sweaty palms on his robes as he sat down. “Scotch sounds like a good idea.”
“Indeed.” Severus poured them each a glass, handing one to Neville, before settling into the armchair across from where Neville sat. He nodded toward a stack of parchment on the coffee table between them. “Those are my notes on your potions. If you’ll explain what your intentions were with each potion, I will compare with my deductions and then you can detail exactly how you came up with these.”
Severus set the first potion bottle on the table. “Start with this one.”
“That one is supposed to be an alternative to dreamless sleep. Harry and Hermione, like a lot of other people, both have a lot of nightmares from the war. They’re pretty limited in their intake of dreamless sleep by this point, though, since it’s so addictive. This potion shouldn’t be chemically addictive, and it also shouldn’t have the side effect of morning grogginess like dreamless sleep does.”
Severus took a slow sip from his scotch with a thoughtful look. “I believe it should meet that criteria. It’s missing the ingredients that cause the addictiveness and the grogginess, though there are several new ingredients that I can’t ascertain the exact purpose of without watching the brewing process and seeing the raw ingredients and their preparation.” He set down the second vial and gestured for Neville to continue.
“This potion is supposed to help heal curse scars. Hermione has that awful slur that was carved into her arm with a cursed knife, and several of my other close friends have curse wounds from battle that just won’t heal.”
The potion master considered Neville’s statement carefully. “Hmm. I will be quite honest with you; I could not identify the primary purpose of the potion through my analysis. It has properties that would neutralize dark magic, but it seemed more geared toward wound-healing than curse-breaking. With your explanation, my observations make much more sense.”
When the final vial was set on the table, Neville started speaking quickly, visibly more nervous than before.
“Um, that last year—I’m sure you remember—the Carrows and I didn’t get along so well. It seems I had some long-term damage from repeated use of the cruciatus curse.”
Severus paled. “Neville, I–“
Neville’s head jolted up from where he’d been staring apprehensively at floor while he talked; he wasn’t sure Severus had ever used his first name before.
“No, sir. Don’t apologize. I did everything I could to protect the other students; I know that’s what you did, too. I knew what I was doing. Better me than a first year. And I knew the risks. I see it every time I visit my parents.”
Severus sighed softly. “It doesn’t mean that what happened was right, or okay.” He shook his head briefly, as if to jolt himself from the past. “Anyway, the potion.”
“Um, right. So one of the more common long-term effects that I experience are debilitating migraines. The healers prescribe a potion for me for when the migraines start coming on, but they only do so much. Regardless, one started coming on a few weeks ago and I hadn’t realized I was out of the potion. It was right when all the students were coming down with flu, so I didn’t want to bother you or Poppy with making my potion when I knew you were both overwhelmed. It’s a simple potion, so I decided to just make itself. This kind of branches into the next topic on your list. So, one minute I’m making the potion, and the next thing I know I’ve just consumed it, my migraine is nowhere to be found, half of my prepared ingredients are unused at my prep station, and there’s bits of other ingredients not in the recipe scattered about my prep area.”
Severus opened his mouth to say something but shut it again, no words coming.
“I figured I needed to figure out what happened, especially since nothing the healers had tried worked nearly as well as this potion that I’d made without even thinking about it, already in the throes of a migraine. I started making the potion again and—actually, let me back up. I’ve always been good at plants, right? I mean, I went into Herbology for a reason.”
The other man nodded mutely in response.
“Once I really got into my mastery work, though, I realized that I’m especially in tune with the inherent magic in plants, both those that are categorized as magical and those categorized as mundane. I can sense the well-being of plants and aid them in development, but I also can sense their… possibilities, or purpose, I guess you could say. I don’t know if this makes any sense.” Neville knew he was rambling, and he hated that he was doing so in front of the man that had been his boggart when he was 13 years old, the man whom he’d come to greatly respect. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get started again if he stopped, however, so he kept plowing through his attempt at an explanation. “So, anyway, I set about to make a potion to help with my migraines, and the magic in the plants around me called to me, telling me which ones to use and how to use them. I’m sure you noted in your analysis that the ingredients are all plants. When that was successful, I wanted to see if I could follow the same process with a different intention with similar results. I’m not going to just give an unknown and untested potion to my friends, though. If I had been in my right mind at the time, I wouldn’t have taken one, either. I am not always an idiot Gryffindor who leaps before he looks. So that’s why I came to you. You’re the best at what you do.”
“I–“ Severus shook his head in disbelief before trying again. “You’re telling me that you, someone who is notoriously bad at brewing potions, are so in touch with plant magics that you can brew previously non-existent, entirely plant-based potions through an instinctive brewing process? And potentially be successful?”
“Erm… yes? What do you think?”
“I think we have a lot of work to do.”