really belated gift fic for Underlucius, eventually slash, chapter 7 of 8, Part B
"Wormtail, give Lucius a hand and help him take Draco inside. Try administering a bezoar to the boy. If he fails to recover, your head will be at stake," Voldemort said.
Pettigrew nodded jerkily, and cast a Weightlessness Charm on Draco. When he reached under Draco's arms to lift him, Draco opened his eyes and moaned softly.
Peter looked at Lucius. "Could you take his feet, please?"
Lucius didn't move. He stared at the Band-Aids covering Draco's arm. "He might be contagious. I'm not sure it is safe to touch him."
Annoyed, Snape strode forward. "He isn't contagious, he's just been hexed and poisoned."
"You can never know what sort of unwholesome things those Muggles have contaminated him with," Lucius said in a flat tone. He avoided Snape's eyes. "I'll see him when he's recovered."
"Father," Draco mumbled.
Lucius turned away from his son, and gave Voldemort a pleading look. "I would like to stay for the werewolf's punishment, my Lord."
Voldemort laughed. "Trying to hide your disgust and pretend it is loyalty?"
Lucius blushed. "There's no need to mask any vague emotion in my heart as loyalty, my Lord."
"Hm. You might be right - you don't have a heart to harbour those emotions," Voldemort said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But you used to have guts, once. Well, it seems they have been reduced to liquid by the famous Azkaban atmosphere. Or is it the Muggles you fear the most? Tell me, are you afraid of the Muggles, Lucius?"
Lucius hesitated. "I - "
"Only the truth, Lucius," Voldemort said. "You know I hate people lying to me. Lies make me angry and violent. So?"
Lucius licked his thin lips. "Time and again, when I must deal with Muggles, I might err on the side of caution, my Lord."
Voldemort laughed again. "You do have a way with words, Lucius. And you have loyalty, I'll give you that, even though it stems from your fear of Muggles," he said, chuckling. "Very well, you can stay. But make yourself useful. Severus, you go with Wormtail. And fetch me a vial of hemlock, while you're there."
Snape supposed the hemlock was for Lupin. He was glad the werewolf would have a good death; hemlock was a relaxant, and it kept the victim lucid until the very end. The only problem was that Voldemort usually reserved hemlock for captives he wanted to question under the influence of Veritaserum. Which meant Snape's true allegiances would soon be discovered.
Snape swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat at that thought. When he spoke up, his voice was calm and resigned. "Would you like me to bring some Veritaserum as well, my Lord?"
Voldemort shook his head. "Not this time. I have other plans for the werewolf."
"Oh." Snape kept his face blank. "Then I suppose it isn't Conium you need."
"No, bring Cicuta. Bring as much as you can; lycanthropes have an uncanny ability to metabolise and excrete poisons before they could take effect."
Snape bowed, and turned to leave the orchard with Pettigrew and Draco. Now that Draco was awake, they found it was easier to support him and let him walk back to the mansion; the sight of his home (one of the many, at least) had apparently invigorated him a bit. After a few steps, however, he stopped and stared at the mansion's entrance.
Snape gave the boy a small nudge. "Draco - "
But Voldemort had already noticed there was a problem. "What is it, Snape? Why have you stopped?"
Heedless of Voldemort's annoyed voice, Draco slowly turned his head around, as if he had been following someone with his eyes. Finally, his gaze settled on a point near Voldemort's head.
Snape bent closer to the boy. "Draco, is everything all right?" he asked. It was an inane question, but he couldn't come up with anything better.
Slowly, Draco shook his head. "I just thought I saw the Headmaster for a moment," he said softly. "He said I was - "
Snape shot an apologetic look towards Voldemort. "Draco has been having hallucinations since dinnertime," he said, by way of an explanation, and dragged Draco towards the mansion. When Draco stumbled, he hoisted the boy onto his shoulders and carried him inside, while Pettigrew tagged along with a very anxious expression on his rodent-like face.
Padding into the Malfoys' spacious laboratory, Snape cursed Constant Nott, the Malfoys' supplier, who had labelled each vial and container in his trademark, illegible scrawl. Finally, he found the bezoar, and fed it to a grimacing Draco. The effect was immediate; as Snape held the boy's hand, he saw the white stripes on the nails fade into healthy pink; the skin lost its greyish tint and clammy sheen of sweat; the gasping breaths eased and fell into a steady, slow rhythm.
At that point, Pettigrew took over. He charmed a large white nightshirt over Draco's hospital gown, and a second later Banished the gown into a dustbin. With Snape's help, he dragged Draco into the nearest guestroom, put him in bed, and fed him a piece of toast and half a cup of weak tea.
Snape grew tired of watching Pettigrew bustle around in the room, and decided he'd better go and find some essence of hemlock. His search was half-hearted at best. Now that Draco was no longer in danger, the mansion seemed so peaceful and quiet that he didn't want to go back to the orchard and see Lupin in the throes of the Cruciatus Curse again.
A stout shadow blocked the light in the doorway. "Snape?"
"What is it, Pettigrew?" Snape asked, not bothering to turn around.
The shadow stretched as Peter stepped inside. "Can I ask something?"
"You already have, Pettigrew," Snape pointed out.
The shadow in the doorway startled back, then moved forward again, and started rummaging on a shelf behind Snape's back. "It's been long since - since you called me Pettigrew. In the last few years, it was always Wormtail this and Wormtail that."
Snape shrugged. "Must have been a slip of my tongue. Next time when I address you in any way, remind me to call you Wormtail."
"It's not that," squeaked the little man. "It's all right if you call me Pettigrew, really - "
Snape interrupted him. "What is it you wanted to ask?"
Wormtail's silver hand thrust a small vial under his nose. "The Dark Lord wanted h-h-hemlock, didn't he? Take this."
Snape took the bottle, uncorked it and sniffed its contents. "It smells like rat droppings. Been here before?"
"As if you smelled so great," Peter said.
"I might stink of Potion ingredients, but in your case, potion ingredients stink of you. There is a difference."
Peter watched him through watery, calculating eyes. "Ha. Very funny. But you should listen to me, just this once. I just want to help you. And Remus, of course. The hemlock essence in this vial seems to be twice as strong as the regular standard."
Snape snorted. "Some friend you are. Restless until all three to whom you used to snuggle up are killed, hoping there would be no one afterwards to remember the numerous occasions you have turned your coat."
Peter went beet-red, and looked ready to bolt from the room. The next moment, he suddenly he lashed out and struck Snape in the face. Startled, Snape dropped the vial of hemlock on the floor, where it shattered into a thousand small glass shards and even more tiny droplets of poison.
After that, Pettigrew did flee the laboratory. Snape could hear him running back towards the room where Draco was staying.
Snape bent down to clean the floor up with a quick Evanesco, but something caught his eye. He stared at the Latin name scrawled across the label for a few minutes. Then, straightening up, he rummaged through the shelves again. After a few minutes' worth of frantic search, he picked up a small vial, nearly identical to the one he'd just broken. He knelt down again, and held the vial close to the label on the floor. The Latin plant names were almost identical, except for a few letters.2
In the end, Snape put the undamaged vial back on the shelf, and brandished his wand towards the mess on the floor.
"Reparo.
The shards rose an inch above the floor in a sparkling cloud. Then the cloud shrank as the thousand bits of glass melded into the form of a vial. The green droplets of hemlock essence oozed into a small puddle, and finally poured back inside the vial. Snape re-corked it and slipped it inside his pocket. After a last glance around, he left the laboratory, quietly closing the door behind himself.
As he strode down the hallway, he paused a few steps before Draco's room. He waited there for a while, but no sound could be heard. He was about to give up eavesdropping and go on, when Pettigrew's soft, high-pitched voice filtered through the closed door.
"Do you think it was a ghost, Draco?"
There was a short pause. Then Draco said, "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it."
Snape waited a bit more, but he could hear nothing else, and the Dark Lord was waiting for him outside. He swept down the hallway, not caring anymore if Pettigrew heard him. He was halfway down the main stairwell when he heard the screams.
NOTES
[2] to learn more about water hemlock (Cicuta maculata) and poison hemlock (Conium maculatum), you'll have to read Chapter 8 :)
Pettigrew nodded jerkily, and cast a Weightlessness Charm on Draco. When he reached under Draco's arms to lift him, Draco opened his eyes and moaned softly.
Peter looked at Lucius. "Could you take his feet, please?"
Lucius didn't move. He stared at the Band-Aids covering Draco's arm. "He might be contagious. I'm not sure it is safe to touch him."
Annoyed, Snape strode forward. "He isn't contagious, he's just been hexed and poisoned."
"You can never know what sort of unwholesome things those Muggles have contaminated him with," Lucius said in a flat tone. He avoided Snape's eyes. "I'll see him when he's recovered."
"Father," Draco mumbled.
Lucius turned away from his son, and gave Voldemort a pleading look. "I would like to stay for the werewolf's punishment, my Lord."
Voldemort laughed. "Trying to hide your disgust and pretend it is loyalty?"
Lucius blushed. "There's no need to mask any vague emotion in my heart as loyalty, my Lord."
"Hm. You might be right - you don't have a heart to harbour those emotions," Voldemort said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But you used to have guts, once. Well, it seems they have been reduced to liquid by the famous Azkaban atmosphere. Or is it the Muggles you fear the most? Tell me, are you afraid of the Muggles, Lucius?"
Lucius hesitated. "I - "
"Only the truth, Lucius," Voldemort said. "You know I hate people lying to me. Lies make me angry and violent. So?"
Lucius licked his thin lips. "Time and again, when I must deal with Muggles, I might err on the side of caution, my Lord."
Voldemort laughed again. "You do have a way with words, Lucius. And you have loyalty, I'll give you that, even though it stems from your fear of Muggles," he said, chuckling. "Very well, you can stay. But make yourself useful. Severus, you go with Wormtail. And fetch me a vial of hemlock, while you're there."
Snape supposed the hemlock was for Lupin. He was glad the werewolf would have a good death; hemlock was a relaxant, and it kept the victim lucid until the very end. The only problem was that Voldemort usually reserved hemlock for captives he wanted to question under the influence of Veritaserum. Which meant Snape's true allegiances would soon be discovered.
Snape swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat at that thought. When he spoke up, his voice was calm and resigned. "Would you like me to bring some Veritaserum as well, my Lord?"
Voldemort shook his head. "Not this time. I have other plans for the werewolf."
"Oh." Snape kept his face blank. "Then I suppose it isn't Conium you need."
"No, bring Cicuta. Bring as much as you can; lycanthropes have an uncanny ability to metabolise and excrete poisons before they could take effect."
Snape bowed, and turned to leave the orchard with Pettigrew and Draco. Now that Draco was awake, they found it was easier to support him and let him walk back to the mansion; the sight of his home (one of the many, at least) had apparently invigorated him a bit. After a few steps, however, he stopped and stared at the mansion's entrance.
Snape gave the boy a small nudge. "Draco - "
But Voldemort had already noticed there was a problem. "What is it, Snape? Why have you stopped?"
Heedless of Voldemort's annoyed voice, Draco slowly turned his head around, as if he had been following someone with his eyes. Finally, his gaze settled on a point near Voldemort's head.
Snape bent closer to the boy. "Draco, is everything all right?" he asked. It was an inane question, but he couldn't come up with anything better.
Slowly, Draco shook his head. "I just thought I saw the Headmaster for a moment," he said softly. "He said I was - "
Snape shot an apologetic look towards Voldemort. "Draco has been having hallucinations since dinnertime," he said, by way of an explanation, and dragged Draco towards the mansion. When Draco stumbled, he hoisted the boy onto his shoulders and carried him inside, while Pettigrew tagged along with a very anxious expression on his rodent-like face.
Padding into the Malfoys' spacious laboratory, Snape cursed Constant Nott, the Malfoys' supplier, who had labelled each vial and container in his trademark, illegible scrawl. Finally, he found the bezoar, and fed it to a grimacing Draco. The effect was immediate; as Snape held the boy's hand, he saw the white stripes on the nails fade into healthy pink; the skin lost its greyish tint and clammy sheen of sweat; the gasping breaths eased and fell into a steady, slow rhythm.
At that point, Pettigrew took over. He charmed a large white nightshirt over Draco's hospital gown, and a second later Banished the gown into a dustbin. With Snape's help, he dragged Draco into the nearest guestroom, put him in bed, and fed him a piece of toast and half a cup of weak tea.
Snape grew tired of watching Pettigrew bustle around in the room, and decided he'd better go and find some essence of hemlock. His search was half-hearted at best. Now that Draco was no longer in danger, the mansion seemed so peaceful and quiet that he didn't want to go back to the orchard and see Lupin in the throes of the Cruciatus Curse again.
A stout shadow blocked the light in the doorway. "Snape?"
"What is it, Pettigrew?" Snape asked, not bothering to turn around.
The shadow stretched as Peter stepped inside. "Can I ask something?"
"You already have, Pettigrew," Snape pointed out.
The shadow in the doorway startled back, then moved forward again, and started rummaging on a shelf behind Snape's back. "It's been long since - since you called me Pettigrew. In the last few years, it was always Wormtail this and Wormtail that."
Snape shrugged. "Must have been a slip of my tongue. Next time when I address you in any way, remind me to call you Wormtail."
"It's not that," squeaked the little man. "It's all right if you call me Pettigrew, really - "
Snape interrupted him. "What is it you wanted to ask?"
Wormtail's silver hand thrust a small vial under his nose. "The Dark Lord wanted h-h-hemlock, didn't he? Take this."
Snape took the bottle, uncorked it and sniffed its contents. "It smells like rat droppings. Been here before?"
"As if you smelled so great," Peter said.
"I might stink of Potion ingredients, but in your case, potion ingredients stink of you. There is a difference."
Peter watched him through watery, calculating eyes. "Ha. Very funny. But you should listen to me, just this once. I just want to help you. And Remus, of course. The hemlock essence in this vial seems to be twice as strong as the regular standard."
Snape snorted. "Some friend you are. Restless until all three to whom you used to snuggle up are killed, hoping there would be no one afterwards to remember the numerous occasions you have turned your coat."
Peter went beet-red, and looked ready to bolt from the room. The next moment, he suddenly he lashed out and struck Snape in the face. Startled, Snape dropped the vial of hemlock on the floor, where it shattered into a thousand small glass shards and even more tiny droplets of poison.
After that, Pettigrew did flee the laboratory. Snape could hear him running back towards the room where Draco was staying.
Snape bent down to clean the floor up with a quick Evanesco, but something caught his eye. He stared at the Latin name scrawled across the label for a few minutes. Then, straightening up, he rummaged through the shelves again. After a few minutes' worth of frantic search, he picked up a small vial, nearly identical to the one he'd just broken. He knelt down again, and held the vial close to the label on the floor. The Latin plant names were almost identical, except for a few letters.2
In the end, Snape put the undamaged vial back on the shelf, and brandished his wand towards the mess on the floor.
"Reparo.
The shards rose an inch above the floor in a sparkling cloud. Then the cloud shrank as the thousand bits of glass melded into the form of a vial. The green droplets of hemlock essence oozed into a small puddle, and finally poured back inside the vial. Snape re-corked it and slipped it inside his pocket. After a last glance around, he left the laboratory, quietly closing the door behind himself.
As he strode down the hallway, he paused a few steps before Draco's room. He waited there for a while, but no sound could be heard. He was about to give up eavesdropping and go on, when Pettigrew's soft, high-pitched voice filtered through the closed door.
"Do you think it was a ghost, Draco?"
There was a short pause. Then Draco said, "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it."
Snape waited a bit more, but he could hear nothing else, and the Dark Lord was waiting for him outside. He swept down the hallway, not caring anymore if Pettigrew heard him. He was halfway down the main stairwell when he heard the screams.
NOTES
[2] to learn more about water hemlock (Cicuta maculata) and poison hemlock (Conium maculatum), you'll have to read Chapter 8 :)