More Research

[subtle_simmer]

Date: Friday, 26 January
Time:
Place: Hogwarts, Snape's lab
Characters Involved: Severus Snape, Neville Longbottom
Rating: Better say PG to be safe, poor Neville!

Comments

[living_boy]

It was like going back in time. Being in the castle, in the dungeon, with that dark presence standing over him, that cold voice shaping his name...

Neville drew in a breath, squaring his shoulders. He was no child. Not anymore.

He moved into the office, to the station Snape indicated. He set his plant down, and for a few seconds he used it to draw strength into himself.

Green. Healthy. Ready to burst at the slightest indication. He was proud of it. Proud he had solved the problem on his own.

He turned to Snape with his chin up. "I have five of these in the greenhouse. All five show this same level of health." He pulled the vials from his robe without giving Snape time to say anything snide about how healthy his plant looked.

"The hybrids I was attempting are, I think, successful. I've gotten sap from each of them." There were six, labeled with the names of the plants Neville had crossbred.

Aloe. Lemongrass. Sagebrush. Banisteriopsis caapi, whish he was particularly proud of. Chamomile, and the one from the plant he had brought - ashwagandha.

He set the vials neatly down and stepped back from the table. Snape would want to investigate them himself, he figured. He had never taken Neville's word for anything, and it wouldn't change now no doubt.

[subtle_simmer]

This was the first time Longbottom had brought the actual plant, and Severus was surprised that he would risk it in the icy Scotland weather. Still, there must be some means of protecting it adequately, because there wasn't the slightest hint of cold-wilt in the stiff leaves.

And now, Severus was in his element - or as much as he could be in working with essentially unknown substances. He was somewhat disappointed in the complete variation in appearance from the last batch - but as the last batch had been unstable, he would reserve judgment.

Once again ignoring Neville as though he was simply another piece of furniture in the room, Severus first examined the plant - though he did not touch it, not wanting to be sprayed with sap! He did gently turn the pot this way and that, and carefully prod one long, thin finger into the soil to feel the moisture-level. The grey-green spiny leaves were glossy and covered with the usual boils. Except for being remarkably good sized and well-leafed-out for the season, it looked like any other Mimbulous Severus had ever seen.

As he could not find anything about it to criticise, he said nothing at all, but scooted it carefully to one side of his desk to begin with the samples. The surface of his own personal work-station, unlike the student ones, was a pale-coloured wood, and utterly unblemished. However, the wood was still dark enough to mask the colour of a liquid viewed through clear glass, so he pulled out what was essentially several sheets of pure white butchers paper and set these on the desk. Six wide, flat, clear-glass scale-pans were then placed on these sheets, and each vial of sap picked up for examination.

First, he held them to the light, turning them this way and that above his face, looking for colour and clarity. He then poured a small measure of each one into its own dish, keeping the appropriate vial near-by. There slight difference in colour of each sample, this one a darker green, this one with more yellow, that one lighter - but they were all very clear and uniform within themselves.

"Hmmm. Well. These are quite different than what you brought the last time. Have you tested them with heat, yet? The first set separated terribly when heated."

He began to bend carefully over each dish, sniffing as delicately as possible with such a prodigious nose, testing for variations in scent.

[living_boy]

Neville stood back, content to be ignored for the moment. He had been so horrible at potions, so good at Herbology, that this part - the merging of the two subjects - was fascinating to him.

He watched Snape's careful study, unworried about the state of the plant and the sap.

He nearly jumped when Snape spoke, but as long as his old professor's eyes were on the sap and not on him, he spoke easily. "I've tested them as much as we're trained. We tend to leave the boiling in cauldrons to the potions masters to test. I can tell you that none of these samples shows any negative reactions when mixed with common inert ingredients. Three of them - the sagebrush, Banisteriopsis and ashwagandha, seem to be more acidic than the others. They seem to do better with more neutral ingredients. I can't rule out that mixing them with anything very basic wouldn't lead to a melted cauldron. But the acid doesn't seem to be strong."

He ambled closer to the table, overlooking Snape's work. "Then again, Ashwagandha and banisteriopsis are both used more for mental health than physical. I thought maybe they'd be better in calming draughts, headache draughts, things like that. Most of those are pretty neutral, aren't they?" That was definitely not his area of expertise.

He picked up with careful, practiced fingers the vial from the sagebrush. "I wanted to try with wormwood or belladonna. The aloe and chamomile are too mild to have much affect on how the sap might heal physical pain. Wormwood would be much more interesting. My supply at work was all claimed for...the other thing I'm working on, but I should have more by Monday. I can get back to you on that, if you're interested."

He leaned in, brushing a leaf tip with his hand. He had worked with these now enough to know just how to touch them to keep from being sprayed. "The most interesting thing in all this is how much of a magnifier the stinksap is. On its own it really doesn't have many useful qualities, but crossing it with plants that have the slightest practical use seems to magnify the effects of those plants. It's actually..."

Impressive, he was going to say. Really impressive, and he thought maybe if he could keep on it he might get real work accomplished.

But despite his confidence in his plants he was still with Snape, and leaving himself open for insult on this particular subject wasn't something he was willing to do.

[subtle_simmer]

Severus actually started at the mention of 'physical pain', and he cast Longbottom a sudden, contemplative glance.

"The word you are seeking is 'potentiator', not 'magnifier' - the plant is not a bloody lense - the Mimbulous potentiates properties of other substances. A very valuable trait, indeed."

And impressive, but Severus wouldn't give Longbottom that much praise. Besides, it wasn't LONGBOTTOM who was 'impressive' - it was the characteristics of the plant.

Belladona, though! There was a powerful muscle-relaxer and pain-reliever in its own right! Often combined with opium to potentiate that substance...

Which reminded Severus of one of his sources of disappointment. Opium was derived from...

"Methods of pain relief interest me for similar reasons as the rest of my research," he said vaguely. "Last time you were here, you had a Poppy hybrid. Did that prove to be unstable? The Belladona is, perhaps, a suitable replacement. I would think either of those would be more effective than Wormwood, which has trouble with over-sedation, hence its use in many of the more powerful sleeping draughts."

Oh, but Ashwagandha and banisteriopsis - substances with which he was completely unfamiliar, and which supposedly aided in mental-health issues! Would that answer his present hope to diminish the emotional and physical restlessness which accompanied the full moon?

To say that Severus Snape was positively excited over these samples was to say he had a large-ish nose. Understatement extraordinaire!

However, he was far too Slytherin to reveal his delight - and therefore the increased value - in what Longbottom had brought.

"In the hands of a reasonably talented Potions Master, acidity will not matter, Longbottom," he said absently. "One learns to use enough of a neutral base and add the opposing pH substances in careful measure..."

As he spoke, he set up several very small cauldrons, again one for each sap, and set a slight heat beneath each one.

"I have notes on reliability and interactions from your last set of samples, as per our agreement, but perhaps they will be of no use to you with this improved product."

Ah! Improved product! He had let an almost-compliment slip in his distraction. And he was, indeed, distracted, now pouring a small amount of sample into its individual cauldron, he began to gently heat each one, carefully clipping an ordinary Muggle thermometer to the side of the cauldron to measure boiling-point.

[living_boy]

Potentiator, Magnifier. That was why Neville had been such a bad student in so many classes. He never thought it was important to know the precise word for things, as long as he knew the meaning.

But he only blushed a little.

He cleared his throat to get rid of any embarrassed catches. "The poppy was useless as a hybrid. Whatever elements of the plant you could extract and use in a draught, I don't know. It's not my area. But crossing it with the Mimbulous isn't working. It simply refuses to stabilize. As for the belladona...it's easy enough to get my hands on. If you'd rather I start with that than the wormwood. I didn't realise a sedative effect would be necessarily bad. We could have use for it at St. Mungo's, in some of the more dangerous Sleeping Draughts. There are more than a few hexes that can't be counteracted by the draughts they have now, and introducing the sap to it might help that."

He was musing to himself as much as to Snape. He wasn't sure exactly what Snape was looking for with this project, so he contented himself to worry about how they might use it at work. How it might be helpful to people.

He watched the cauldrons in interest. This wasn't an area he tested in, and he was hopeful his samples would pass whatever test Snape was putting them through.

"Banisteriopsis is worth study in and of itself. Some of the properties it supposedly contains...well. My trainer at work things it's superstitious Muggle rubbish, but I don't know. They call it ayahuasca in Brazil. There are stories of the vine on its own improving senses, causing prophetic dreams. I was lucky to get my hands on some, though to get more I may actually have to travel for it myself."

[subtle_simmer]

He was too thoughtful as he listened to Neville with half his attention and began carefully heating each sample with the other half to snark with true effectiveness. Irritability still showed prominently, of course, though this was as much self-directed as Longbottom-directed - not that he would let Longbottom know that.

"No, no, no. Sedation would not assist my research. Well, obviously you are not working on this solely for my benefit, but sedation might prove dangerous for my direction. And I don't care much for something which might border on hallucinogenic, either, which your ayahuasca sounds like.

"Mood-stabilisers would interest me. Muggles have pharmacologic agents which accomplish this - but I do not care for such Muggle poison - they add far too many noxious chemicals to their concoctions for my tastes. Useless and dangerous."

He had reached the final miniature cauldron, and now they were all heating nicely. Each one then received its own stirring rod, and he began again at the top of the row, stirring carefully, lifting the spooned-end of the rod to observe the liquid as it dripped back into the cauldron.

"This retains clarity when heated and shows no sign of separation or break-down," he said by way of explanation of what he was looking for. This, too, could have been turnt into a compliment in anyone's hands but Snape's.

"And pain relief," he said, abruptly returning to the prior subject. "I prefer something less sedating than wormwood, but can work with what you might have. Sedation, as you say, is beneficial and even desirable in some situations, but not in what I am seeking."

IF he managed to modify the potion without ruining it's primary effect, he was hoping to provide some level of relief of the restless anxiety which accompanied the approaching full moon, and real relief of the pain of transformation. Adding a sedating pain-reliever to a potentially sedating mood-stabilizer in a situation where he had no idea the effect of either on lycanthropic metabolism, could easily prove deadly.

"As per our agreement, I am willing to test and document each sample as it applies to suitability for use in potions. Doubtlessly, those other things you have mentioned might show some benefit and value to others in various fields. However, as per your side of the agreement, I have specific areas of need which I believe your work can answer. The aloe sample you provided last time proved tolerable for that particular project, though I see this sample appears to be a significant improvement upon the last."

Now that the samples were heating, they offered more distinctive aroma, and he gravitated toward the Chamomile now that he recognised its scent.

"Ah. This might prove to answer my search for a mood-stabiliser without being sedating...."

He was talking as much to think aloud as to offer real information or seek input from Longbottom, but his interest was sparked and already he had determined to test a theory.

If Mr Wealsey was still amenable to the attempt.

"What do you have to tell me about each of these, then? What was your intent as you chose which modifications and cross-breeds to attempt?"

If he knew what sorts of concoctions they were ostensibly intended for, it would narrow down his testing focus - though he was far too thorough in practise not to run each through the basic gamut.

[living_boy]

Neville kept careful watch on Snape's tests. Usually the Herbology team simply constructed the hybrids and grew the plants, and let the potions makers sort out the details.

But the two fields were so closely related. Potions ingredients were so often plants, and plants had such changeable qualities that could affect potions. Maybe it was time the two fields met and worked together this way.

"It might help, Professor," he said quietly, "if you told me exactly what you wanted this for. If I knew the effect you wanted, I could focus my attention on only the work needed."

"Ayahuasca is a magical plant on its own. Muggle medicine grew out of the old herbs and plants. The ones we still use today. Muggles get as much out of aloe and chamomille and wormwood as we do, they just apply it differently. It's a good thing to study. I wish they would let us focus on that more at work, on how different countries developed the same plants. Just the slightest differences could have the biggest effect on the nature of the plant."

He sighed, dragging himself from his thoughts and addressing Snape directly. "I'll begin work with belladona. Wormwood can be for my own study when I've satisfied you." He smiled, and those who remembered scared, timid Neville would be surprised to see the wryness in that smile. "If such a thing is possible."

He continued fast. "Chamomile is a mood enhancer, adequate for basic calming draughts. I wanted to try something less common - viscum album, perhaps, since it tackles tension and eases distress rather than simply trying to calm. Couldn't get my hands on any, but I'm interested enough that I might go on my own time and get some samples."

He nodded to the next vial. "As you said before, the aloe seemed to be right for your needs. Aloe is best when digested, unlike some herbs that are better used in salves. Though it can also have something of a laxative effect and there's a question whether a patient could keep an aloe-based potion in his body long enough for it to work."

And the next, the lemongrass. "Lemongrass can act as an anti-bacterial, it serves as a fever reducer. Lemongrass is used as a cure-all for simple illnesses, but I think the anti-bacterial qualities might be going to waste. If I can get the hybrids to focus on that aspect, it's possible we could even come up with a new draught to banish the effects of other draughts. A cure for poisons, that kind of thing." Of course, Nedfellow had laughed when he mentioned that. Told Neville he was a fool for trying to save the world with a couple of leaves.

Then again, Nedfellow was an idiot.

"Sagebrush," he nodded to the next vial, "is almost the opposite. It is used as a germ-fighter sometimes, and ut's good for sore throats. But it also reduces sweating, as well as...other means of disposal. It might be good for making a patient retain a beneficial potion. A potion infused with sage would stick to the bloodstream longer, making it more effective."

He skipped over the next vial, since Snape had effectively ruled it out already. His pet project, that, and he wouldn't throw it out because Snape didn't like the idea of hallucinogins.

That left the last vial, the one that came from the plant he had brought. His other pet project, one he'd fought for and even owled healers in India to get. "Ashwagandha. It's another that has mental effects. It's used often as an anti-depressant in Muggles, but it can do so much more. It can be made to cure lapses in memory, improve focus, concentration. It sharpens the mind. It could be made to allow people suffering from mind-altering illnesses to recover their wits. It could, I suppose, serve as an antidote to love potions, anything that alters mental perception. I had a thought..."

He glanced at Snape, lost his focus. That thought was too ambitious to be laughed at by his old professor. Too personal.

He cleared his throat. "You can see how it might be useful, I suppose." He looked back at the small cauldrons. His vials. His work. "They all serve as medicines, but they're all slightly different. The qualities I'm hoping the hybridization will influence could all be amazingly beneficial to the hospital. If they're successful, of course."

[subtle_simmer]

Almost against his will, Severus found himself not only listening attentively to what Longbottom had to say, but actually being forced to experience a (very slight) degree of genuine almost-respect!

If there was one thing Severus could understand and truly respect, it was having a passion for one's work, a sense of drive and purpose.

Of course, that allure had been severely problematic for him, in his youth, when he had sought to gain from the drive of others. Only when he found his own passion did he find something to steady himself. In a sense, his love of potions had 'saved' him almost as much as Lily Evan's unceasing friendship and Albus Dumbledore's ridiculous insistence on seeing 'good' in everyone.

He was so much intrigued by Longbottom's explanations, that he actually inked his quill and began making notes on the appropriate paper upon which each sample was sitting.

Severus could not be unaware of the fates of Longbottom's parents. Such a thing could easily be a driving force in a desire to find means to 'cure' or at least ameliourate mental illness. This, too, Severus could respect.

Still, though Longbottom knew his plants and his hybrids, he clearly still knew next to nothing of potions (in Severus' opinion) and far, far too little about discretion and secrecy. Severus was entirely unwilling to tell Neville precisely what he was working on, himself. Extreme paranoia caution and a genuine, healthy fear for Bellatrix Lestrange prevented it. It was enough that he had told the boy he was attempting to treat June's scars at their last meeting.

"I am seeking non-sedating methods of pain-relief, primarily focused on musculoskeletal complaints and neuropathy of the sort which one might experience after repeated exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

"Mood-stabilisers would also preferentially be non-sedating, and work toward softening the edges of extreme emotion and minimising volatility and extreme swings of mood."

Which could very well be something he was working on for himself, personally, in both cases, this ought not to insight her interest in the Lycanthropes even if she did manage to scoop the information from Longbottom's unprotected mind!

"As to the Wormwood or belladonna, I have no actual preference. I will defer to your judgment as to which you deem more fitting to that stated need as relates to your plant. Clearly you are more knowledgeable in that area than myself."

Ah! There was a compliment, indeed!

"However, you should know that there are far more ways to make use of an ingredient than you can possibly imagine. Your aloe hybrid was indeed used topically in my most recent efforts, to great success. There are brewing methods and ingredient combinations which makes absorption through the skin every bit as effective - and often more so - as internal consumption. One avoids the worst of the unpleasant side-effects such as those you mentioned, and places the substance in immediate proximity to the area it is needed. It is quite effective."

And if the werewolves were not covered in four-inch-thick fur which made skin-to-potion contact virtually impossible, Severus might be seriously considering that avenue for administering the pain-relief he hoped to find.

"As for poison antidotes, do not waste your time there, boy. That is surely the most ever-changing realm of Potions, much as Curses and counter-Curses are ever-changing in Magical spell research. As soon as you invent a new antidote, someone will invent a new poison which will be unaffected by it, and visa versa. No spell is wholly undefeatable, no ward perfectly unbreakable, no poison perfectly without antidote - If you can invent it, someone else can come along and counter-act it.

"It is, undoubtedly a fascinating field of study - but I doubt it would suit your temperament. Then again, it is never amiss to have another broad-spectrum antidote in general circulation."

Merlin knew Severus was never without at least two such antidote potions and a Bezoar in his pocket!

[living_boy]

Repeated exposure to the cruciatus curse. Repeated exposure to the cruciatus curse.

Those words stuck in Neville's head through the rest of Snape's explanation, and nearly made him short of breath to think about. Was Snape...was he working on something like Neville had dreamed about helping with when he was a kid?

Ever since he was a foolish child - according to gran, at least - who sat by his parents' bedsides and promised them someday he would help them. Someday he would find a cure and see them up and smiling and a family again...

Ever since then he had held on to the dream in some small way. Even after they were killed - murdered in their own beds, in the middle of St. Mungo's, no matter what ridiculous story the Ministry told about them dying in their sleep. Still he had that dream. There were others mad the way they were, and if he could see just one of them open their eyes to a world they finally understood again...if he could hear one of them say hello and greet their own families, it would be a little like fulfilling that dream.

Was it possible Snape was working on something like that even now, without Neville having to ask his help?

He swallowed. "Belladonna. The aloe. Ashwagandha. I'll focus on those. They each have different qualities that could help, and if they're all infused in stinksap they should be easy enough to combine in a potion together." His voice was low, faint and hopeful.

Snape still despised him, fine. He was still awkward and the gits at work took advantage of him and took credit for his work, made fun of his quiet life. But he would help his parents. Snape would help.

It was too much to think about, so he pushed the thoughts back. He had time enough to dwell on it later.

When he spoke again his voice was still a bit thick. "I wish I had done better in potions, of course. Understanding all that, the uses and how the potions themselves alter the plants, that would have been useful. It's actually thinking back on old potions mistakes that led me to solve the stability problems I was having with these." His hand came out, brushing the tip of the Mimbletonia's leaf almost fondly.

Then he straightened - Snape wouldn't care about any of that. "I'd like to work on an antidote anyway, but of course I'll work this out with you first. Just because better poisons will be invented, that's no reason not to help the people who are poisoned now. You would be surprised...or maybe you wouldn't...by how many people lie in St. Mungo's for illnesses we should be able to fix. And more than being an antidote for poison, I think I could develop a tonic for venom, for exposure to poisonous plants..."

He trailed off with a sigh. Maybe his coworkers were right. Maybe he was blindly stuck on the idea of saving the world, and wasn't focusing as much as he should.

[subtle_simmer]

Severus made no attempt to 'read' Longbottom's thoughts. He was far too focused on his own. If there was any outward reaction of surprise from the boy in relation to what little he had revealed of his own research, Severus missed it, completely. Prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse was the most ready comparison to the agonies of transformation, and Severus did not wish to discuss the lycanthropes any more than absolutely necessary.

Besides, if his own morning aches and ability to predict change in the weather by the pain in his spine was anything by which to judge, there were undoubtedly many who had been 'in service' to the Dark Lord who carried residual complaints. No, he'd never been tortured into insanity, but he certainly had known moments of desperate desire for just such an event, just to make the agony cease.

If the two paths possessed a good deal of correlation, well, it was of no consequence to Severus.

The contents of the small cauldrons were now beginning to boil. Severus noted the temperatures of each, and again checked the consistency of the liquid. With heat, the sap had become less syrup-like and more fluid, but there was no separation of the globules of lipid-component from the more water-soluble material, which was another promising point in favour of these new hybrids.

"Hmmm. Satisfactory."

He nodded absently as Longbottom prattled on, though his attention was intensely focused on his work.

"Yes, yes, fascinating," he said distractedly. "You will never finish a project to success if you continually chase tangents. Not that you cannot develop theories and hypotheses as you work, but if you always chase the first grandiose potential of a new idea, then lose focus as you move on to the next one, what you will have as end-result is a pile of worthless notes on theories and potentials and nothing to show for it."

It was one thing to be gifted in one's field, and even perhaps unusually intelligent in said field, but there was still the natural limitations of human capability. There were only so many hours in a day, and one must eat, sleep, and most people also had to support themselves with some method of wage-earning labours as they pursued their research.

"Small steps, Longbottom. Never lose sight of the big picture, but approach it in small increments, lest you loose efficacy along the way."

[living_boy]

Neville turned his eyes from the cauldrons to Snape. For a moment he just watched a rare sight for him - Snape unguarded, too focused on work to bother with sneers and disgust or contempt.

He was a bit older, and the realisation that Neville could see that on his face felt a bit too personal.

He would have pulled back and left Snape to his work were it not for the words Snape spoke.

He felt himself bristling - inside, at least. Neville was an interior sort of bristler. "Sir, with all due respect. Once I make a successful hybrid, my part of the work is done. I might plan in my head all sorts of ideas about where the hybrids might be used and what they might come to cure, but as I dream I finish my projects and pass them to you potions makers to develop. I wouldn't lose interest in one of my plants because a better idea occurred to me."

He was offended at just the suggestion, and it was obvious if Snape even bothered to look. His plants were living things. Life wasn't something you threw away because a more interesting life came around. That was the whole bloody problem with the world, wasn't it?

His plants were plants. He didn't think of them as friends or children or anything rubbish like that. But they were his, and they lived, and they were sacred.

Even the unsuccessful hybrids were given potting soil and water so they might live and die on their own time, not be thrown out as refuse.

[subtle_simmer]

Ah! The sleeping Lion wakes!

Severus was astonished out of his focused absent-mindedness by Longbottom's strong (for him) retort. One sweeping ebony brow arched high onto his forehead as he watched the young man defend his creation.

For the first time in his recollection, Severus was getting a glimpse of whatever it was that had sorted this timid man-child into Gryffindor House.

He couldn't quite decide whether to laugh mockingly or be angry. Frankly, he was too genuinely surprised for either.

"Where was this passion when you were in my classroom?" he asked with far more amusement than vitriol in his tone. "Where was this attentiveness and attention to detail, the focus to produce a finished product?"

[living_boy]

It occurred to Neville, sudden and stark, that he was talking to Professor Snape of all people. Feelings of complete mortification were already creeping up.

He spoke fast, before those feelings could mute him the way they always did. "I never had a chance in your class, Professor. Between my horrid memory for details and your constant need to humiliate me, I was never exactly going to blossom, was I?"

Mortification. Sliding upwards, like syrup, weighing him down bit by bit. "I'm no different. I was never smart, maybe, and I could never speak up. But my failure wasn't entirely my fault. A...at least, not..." He was losing volume, his cheeks going pink.

Hell.

He had fought in war! He had brought Bellatrix Lestrange into custody. He was supposed to be stronger now.

He was just so bloody tired of being the butt of every joke. He was tired of the gits where he worked taking advantage of him.

Tired of Snape constantly treating him as if he'd never accomplished a thing and never would.

He cast his eyes to the table, away from Snape's dark gaze. "I just want to do my work." He wondered if maybe Snape might know how that felt. Snape was such a good potions master - it had to be a passion for him the way Neville's plants were his own passion. He had to know the joy of overcoming a difficult problem, the way he could lose hours just studying one element of one assignment.

Most of all, maybe he could understand how easy it was to resent everyone who came along and made light of his work, laughed at his pride in it.

He wanted to be strong, but it was only when he was working that he really felt that way. Even more than leading Bellatrix Lestrange at the point of his wand, he felt strong there, with that plant and those vials.

Apparently even strong enough to speak up to Severus Snape.