Thick gray smoke rose from the cauldron over which Snape stood, twining up towards the high-raftered ceiling and smelling strangely of mint and cabbage. Fires burned along the table, crowned with fat-bellied cauldrons, glowing blood-red with heat. That, combined with the warmth of the rising smoke, was making Sirius sweat through his clothes.
Snape, by contrast, was looking almost cold, hunched into his robes and grumbling over his cauldron. 'Adjustments will have to be made,' he muttered.
'Adjustments?'
Snape glanced up and nodded. 'The potion as I brew it is for administration to human beings. One of the key ingredients is wolfsbane. Obviously, some replacement for wolfsbane will have to be found in this case, as I doubt it would agree with your friend Lupin.'
'Quite,' said Sirius, feeling lost. Potions had never been one of his favorite subjects. He much preferred Transfiguration, at which he had excelled. He thought fondly back to one spring afternoon when he had turned Snapes cauldron into a fat orange hamster which had bitten Snape on the toe. No, he told himself, mustn?t think about that…
'But then you always were far more interested in Transfiguration,' said Snape, his beady black eyes glancing over Sirius, who jumped.
'Erm,' said Sirius. 'yes, yes I was,' and he began prowling up and down the room, trying to look preoccupied. It wasn?t hard: there were diversions enough in Snapes workroom to preoccupy anyone.
Cauldrons of all sizes, jars of dragons blood too hot to touch, flasks of weeping willow tears, caskets of powdered mandrake, silver jars of powdered unicorn horn. Absently, Sirius paused to examine the books stacked haphazardly on a table. One caught his eye in particular: a heavy burgundy volume with a gold-stamped spine that read Demons, Demons, Demons. He picked it up and flicked it open. Everything You Wanted to Know About Hells Denizens, and Several Things You Didn?t, read the flyleaf.
'What are you looking at, Black?' demanded Snape.
Sirius brandished the book in the air. 'Demons, Demons, Demons -
what a title.'
'Its a book about demons. What would you call it?'
'The Book of Demons?' Sirius suggested, flicking idly through the pages.
'A name rife with single entendre.'
'It was just a suggestion — ' Sirius broke off, staring down at a page of the book, his eyes wide. He raised his head. 'Hey — can I borrow this book?'
'You want to borrow my book?'
'Is there an echo in here?' Sirius said, then shut his mouth hurriedly. Something about Snape reduced him to the approximate age of thirteen, try as he might to fight it. He just couldn?t be in the same room with the man without having fantasies about hanging him upside-down by his ankles over the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with the words 'Kiss Me: I?m Irish' magically emblazoned on his shorts.
Not that Sirius had ever done such a thing.
Certainly not.
'I mean, yes, I?d like to borrow it…'
Snape slammed the beaker he was holding down onto the table with force. 'You having a problem with demons?'
'You might say that.'
'Typical,' said Snape shortly, without raising his head. 'Take the book if you want it.'
'Thanks,' said Sirius. He realized that this was the first time in his life he had ever thanked Snape for anything. It seemed momentous, but Snape apparently hadn?t even noticed. He was leaning back, his gaze fixed on the smoking cauldron before him, a look of satisfaction on his face. 'Its done,' he announced.
Tucking the book under his arm, Sirius strode over to the cauldron.
The liquid in it had stopped bubbling, and had settled down into a thick, smooth silvery-gray material, somewhat reflective, like mercury, or moonlight. It was almost pretty. Sirius reached out a hand —
'Don?t touch it,' said Snape harshly.
Sirius took his hand back, nettled. 'Well, pardon me for living.'
Snape looked up at him from under beetling dark brows, his black eyes flat. 'No one gets pardoned for living,' he said. 'Not even you.'
To that, Sirius found he had nothing to say. He watched Snape as the Potions master filled a glass, copper- bound flask with a measure of the pale-gray liquid from the cauldron. He held it out to Sirius, who reached to take it. As he did, the firelight struck a spark off the red stone in his bracelet.
'Vivicus charm?' asked Snape, eyebrows high.
'Harry,' said Sirius shortly, taking the flask and stashing it in the inside pocket of his robe.
'Its good that you have that,' said Snape shortly.
Good for me? Sirius wondered. Or good for Harry?
He looked at Snape. Snape looked back at him. Sirius realized that they were done. He felt slightly lost. Now what?
'Look,' he began, haltingly, 'do you want to come with me?'
Snape blinked at him. 'What?'
'I thought,' said Sirius, wondering if he might be going mad, 'that you might like to see the effects of your
