Professor Snape had been seen entering the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place by Harry Potter and his friends right before the Order of the Phoenix’s meeting had begun.

 It still intrigued the trio just what role the dark, surly man played in the looming war so his presence at the dreary house always encouraged the Gryffindor students, and Ron’s impish bothers to try every trick in the book to see if they could circumvent the wards Dumbledore inevitably invoked so the children could not discover any Order business without his approval.

Tonight was no exception.  Every device the twins had devised failed to allow the throng of under-aged wizards to hear more than a few moments of discussion before the adults voices became garbled or were cut off completely.  Defeated for the time being the red-haired twins gathered their magical appendages and skulked sulkily back to their allocated bedroom; determined to find a way eventually.

Harry, Hermione and Ron, although feeling similarly conquered, remained lazily slouched on the upper first floor landing near the staircase where they had a relatively good view of the hallway leading from the kitchen.  At the sound of the squeaky kitchen door opening Harry swiftly covered himself and his friends with his invisibility cloak that he’d snatched by instinct out of his trunk when they’d begun this newest battle against Dumbledore’s security wards.

Leaning close to the railings and glimpsing down upon the hallway all three teenagers were curious to see their Potions Professor virtually stumble to a halt at the bottom of the staircase.

Even from this angle the man looked to be slightly more pale than usual.  They’d not had an opportunity to scrutinize his appearance when he’d arrived as he’d ducked swiftly into the kitchen and out of sight as soon as he’d entered the old, dark house. 

Hermione tapped upon Ron’s leg, who in turn tapped upon Harry’s shoulder and all three teenagers leaned even closer to the railings to get a better glimpse of the dark man now.

Suddenly Professor Snape glanced upwards directly at the place the teenagers sat concealed beneath the magical cloak, almost as if he sensed their presence.  The trio instantly froze instinctively, but unless Harry had not distributed the cloak across them evenly (which he had) they knew it was impossible that they would be seen.  Still, Snape had this uncanny ability to know when something was amiss, an ability he’d proved time and time again during his classes, so the Gryffindors would take no chances.

Snape’s narrowed eyes swept what he could see of the landing and Harry and his friends only dared breathe again when the dark man lowered his chin; apparently satisfied that he was alone in the hall.

The man’s arm stretched out to grasp the balustrade, and immediately Harry believed he intended to climb the stairs, but the man did not move.  His grip only seemed to tighten as Harry witnessed his knuckles turn white with exertion.  Then Snape quickly swiped his free hand across his forehead and down his face; breathing out a pained gasping sound as he did so.

The trio of hidden friends glanced quickly and silently at one another under the cloak; no doubt wondering the same thing all at once.  ‘What’s going on with Snape?’

Professor Snape then allowed himself a small groan that the three on the landing barely heard.  Harry’s attention focused immediately onto the man’s face; witnessing a small grimace followed by a softly uttered:

“Fuck…”

The Professor’s hand that had swiped across his face swiftly clutched at his stomach and the Order’s spy hunched over slightly; obviously in pain.  He threw his head back momentarily, clenching his teeth fiercely and gasping for breath before suddenly thrusting his upper body forward again to lean heavily over the balustrade; resting his forehead on the upper rail.  He seemed to be holding himself up with the support of the staircase palings, and it soon became entirely evident that it was a genuine struggle to achieve the feat.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were further shocked when the man abruptly lost his battle and sunk to his knees, thrusting further forward and retching forcefully; the contents of his stomach pooling before him as a smelly, rancid mess in front of the first step.

As the man regained a small amount of control over the convulsing of his stomach, he reached quickly into his left sleeve to retrieve his wand; promptly vanishing the puddled mess he’d just made on the old, patterned carpet.

Harry was unendingly grateful, as his own stomach was just beginning to protest and retaliate to the sounds of the man’s gagging and the foul odour that had wafted upward toward the unseen witnesses, and he actually thought he felt Ron judder beside him as if he too was about to vomit.

“Ugghh,” Snape groaned, wiping over his mouth with the back of his sleeve.   After a short moment the spy seemed to come to a silent but disturbed understanding about something and expeditiously the man dropped his wand on the lowest step in front of him and began to urgently rifle through the inner pockets of his robes.   “Shit… where is it?” he softly questioned, clearly frustrated, and even a little bit fearful in Harry’s opinion, when he failed to find what he was searching for.

Frozen to the spot, thoroughly engrossed in the vision of their usually composed, formidable and unflappable teacher floundering and struggling in this unbelievable moment of weakness, panic and distress, not one of the three young witnesses thought yet to intervene and help.

Snape, apparently finally finding the article of his desperate search, emptied the pocket his hand was plunged into out onto the carpeted step beside his wand.  There, in a small packet, was what Harry recognised as a Bezoar.

Harry quickly recalled the very first time he’d learned about the object.

“A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.” 

Professor Snape himself had imparted that information on the young eleven year old in his very first Potions lesson.  Harry would never forget it for it had come to be one of many memorable moments involving the dark, surly and scary man the boy would later learn worked as spy for the Light side.

With a shaking hand the Professor, as quickly as he could manage, removed the stone from the packet and lifted it to his mouth.  It looked as though he was furiously trying to swallow it down, but was having some difficulty with simply swallowing at the current moment.  That was when Harry realised, with alarm, exactly what was going on with Snape.

The man believed he had been poisoned!

“Holy Shit,” Ron whispered softly beside him, leading Harry to believe he had caught on to the problem too.

“Harry…” Hermione whispered urgently immediately afterwards.  “We should do something!”

In the meantime Snape had finally managed to swallow the small stone down and rested himself against the step momentarily with some measure of relief amongst the remaining distress written across his features.

Harry bit his lip, not knowing whether Hermione’s suggestion was the right thing to do or not.  “What though..?” he whispered back in question; waiting for the suggestion before fully deciding.

But before Hermione could respond Snape began to lever himself back to his feet and head toward the kitchen door.  However, before he made it the door was banged open and the rest of the Order spilled out into the hallway in a gush of bodies; halting Snape in his approach.  The man eased himself back against the wall, standing as tall as he could appear and waiting for the crowd to disperse.    

Harry and his friends relaxed slightly knowing they’d not need to race down to assist the ailing Potions Master and risk certain future death or detention – whichever Snape decided would suit best for their interference no matter how much help they’d genuinely been.  No, they’d be happy to leave this dilemma to the more experienced and even-footed adult Order members to deal with now; surely they’d quickly have the man sorted out.  They leaned forward again to continue to watch the scene play out.

Harry, Hermione and Ron could easily discern the thin coating on sweat and sickly pale skin that identified that something was gravely wrong with Snape, but disturbingly not one person that was flooding the halls even spared the man more than a brief glance, so the man’s predicament appeared to go unnoticed by the other adults – or they didn’t react anyway.  Harry began to get an empty sensation in his gut that made him feel that things did not bode well for this situation.

Harry noticed Professor Dumbledore stride quickly by through the middle of the horde of people exiting the kitchen and upon seeing him too Snape called out to gain the old man’s attention.

“Headmaster… I need a word,” he said urgently, but Dumbledore too barely spared him a quick glance.

“I’ll be back shortly, Severus… unless you’d rather meet me in my office later this evening,” he replied rater dismissively.

“It’s important…” Snape began insistently, trying to lay a hand to the man’s shoulder to halt him, but missing altogether.

“I’m sure it is, my boy, but so is my business… I’m already late.  I won’t be long, however,” and with that the man rushed swiftly out the front door with a few others like water pouring from a tap.

Harry could see that Snape looked rather stricken with the Headmaster’s swift departure and had lowered his chin; his dark hair falling forward to cover his expression further.  Harry wondered if disappointment was the only cause for the man hanging his head, for it appeared that Snape might have slipped slightly down the wall and Harry pondered just how secure the man was on his feet at this point in time.

Sirius gambled out of the kitchen door almost last, and despite Harry’s ‘almost wish’ to the contrary his Godfather spied the dark man leaned back against the wall and his expression swiftly twisted into a sneering, furious glower.

“Why are you still here?!” he demanded of Snape.  “What the hell is your caper?  Have you been snooping through the house looking for information to share with You-Know-Who whilst the rest of us were tucked away in the meeting?” he accused.

Snape snapped up his chin to glare back at his foe, but did not deign to answer.  The wand Snape hadn’t yet put away was adjusted automatically within his hand as his grip upon it tightened.

“Get out… you’ve done your part, Snivellus… you’re no longer needed here,” Sirius continued unpleasantly, “not that I believe your contribution that worthy to begin with, of course, but especially running off when we’re only half way through,” he added with spiteful suspicion.

Snape looked rather uncomfortable to Harry, but he continued to stand his ground against his incensed rival.   And he did not offer an explanation for his early departure from the meeting.  Harry was a little dismayed at Sirius' attitude when he knew full well what had caused the dark man to flee from the kitchen meeting.

“Not that it concerns you, Black, but I need a further word with the Headmaster,” Snape merely said concisely.   

Professor Snape tightened his jaw against further pains in his gut so surreptitiously that had Harry and the other two teens not been watching the man so closely they too might have missed it – or they assumed Sirius had missed it.  The Professor’s breathing had also increased and the man had taken to steadying himself with his hand splayed across the wall beside him; the dark man was suffering still but trying hard not to show it, especially not to Sirius Black.

“I don’t care… meet elsewhere,” Sirius insisted bluntly, but Arthur Weasley, having just noticed the escalating tension between the two, came up behind from the kitchen and swiftly stepped in to calm things.

“Sirius… let Severus wait for Albus in the Library; he’s not going to be long,” Arthur suggested diplomatically.  “Here, I want to show you something… you too Remus,” he added, seemingly to distract Sirius from the possible and probable mêlée with the dark ex-Death Eater.  “It’s something Muggle I found during the latest raid for the Ministry… you’ll love it!”

 Remus Lupin stepped from the kitchen behind Sirius too and quickly nodded, eager to help Arthur distract the bored, easily provoked Azkaban escapee from his rather routine bitter and hostile confrontation with the Order’s spy.

Their attention diverted, the observant teenagers on the first floor were the only ones to notice Snape screw his eyes for a brief moment and gasp and moan softly.  He sucked in a few deep breaths and Harry became quite worried for the man despite his absolute loathing for his nasty teacher.

“Arthur?” Severus asked of the departing Weasley patriarch, a little weakly, apparently getting quite desperate to share his burden with almost anyone else now the Headmaster had left.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, Severus,” Arthur offered, but it was clear the red-headed man had no idea of the urgency of attention Harry felt Snape was in need of.  Arthur continued to lead Remus and Sirius up the steps and out of sight.  Harry and his friends turned and flattened themselves against the railings so as to be out of their way as the men rapidly strode past to the next flight of stairs so they wouldn’t be caught and accused of snooping whilst under the cloak.

The hallway cleared quickly after that and when the teens turned and looked back down there was no-one in sight.

Harry hastily flipped the Invisibility cloak off all their heads and stared at the empty hall.  “Where’d he go?” he asked worriedly.

“Probably the Library,” Hermione replied thoughtfully.

“Yeah… quick then… come on,” Harry said, leading them down to the ground level and up the hall to the Library door that stood ajar.

When all three were standing outside the door to the Library Ron spoke.  “What… does nobody care?” he asked, his tone rather shocked.  Harry glanced at his friend, more than surprised at the fellow teen’s disquiet for the situation involving Snape considering how they all usually felt about the ugly git; but Harry was also confused at his own indignation on the spy’s behalf.

“It’s not that,” Hermione reasoned rationally.  “I just don’t think anyone has noticed, that’s all.”  And they all found themselves wanting to believe it was the truth rather than the insidious alternative.

Harry reached forward and pushed the door to swing a little further open, and immediately they picked out the Potions Master standing and swaying dangerously on the spot just inside the door gasping for breath; his arm stretched out and desperately grasping the back of a nearby chair.  And then he began to collapse; convulsing and twitching as he fell toward the floor.

Ron instinctively dove forward to catch the collapsing man, and despite being only slightly shorter than the man now he really managed only to prevent the man’s  sharp collision with the hard floor; lowering the man slightly slower and more gently to the largely unyielding surface instead.  Still convulsing, Snape was now frothing at the mouth, groaning and making horrific choking sounds that frightened all three teens immensely.

“Oh… shit!” Ron exclaimed, petrified and horrified at the state of his hated Professor.  “Get help… hurry, get help!”

Hermione spun on the spot and rushed back out the door screaming for “someone”, “anyone “to “come and help.”

Harry crouched beside Ron and helped shift Professor Snape into a position that might help him not to choke on his own vomit, and then leaned in slightly closer.  “It’s alright, Sir… we’re getting help,” he offered, wondering if Snape could even hear him at the moment or not.

Blood started to tint the froth at the man’s mouth pink and Harry and Ron became intensely alarmed and started yelling for help themselves.

Within moments several adults swarmed through the door and gently pushed the teenagers out of the way. 

“He’s been poisoned… but he swallowed a Bezoar,” Harry announced what he knew as clearly as possible so that the Professor’s helpers could understand what they might be dealing with.

Mrs Weasley then ushered them all quickly out of the room and back into the hall.  Harry heard Sirius mutter confusedly, “What in Merlin’s name…?” before the door was closed and the teenagers were cut off from the excitement.

“Is he going to be alright?” Hermione asked her friend’s mother meekly.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” Mrs Weasley assured, but the teens knew she was only trying to mollify them for now.

Mrs Weasley continued to herd them until they were on their way up the stairs and once they got to the first floor landing she shooed them on further with a ‘hurry along’ gesture.  She then turned to return to the Library but before she’d made it to the door the front door to the house was opened.

“Oh, Albus, thank goodness you’re back,” Mrs Weasley cried earnestly.

“What is it, Molly?” the Headmaster’s voice was heard to say.

“It seems Severus may have been poisoned,” she explained, her tone horrified.

There was an extended silence before Dumbledore responded.  “Where is he?”  The old Headmaster rushed through the hall and out of the trio’s sight near the Library door at Mrs Weasley’s guidance.

“Oh, God,” Hermione expressed with dread, leaning back over the bannister, “I hope he doesn’t die.”  Ron was nodding his agreement looking clearly troubled at the idea as well.

“Yeah… I hope so too,” Harry said, rather disturbed at the thought, his eyes suddenly spying the discarded packet of the Bezoar and quickly putting his hope and faith in the object Professor Snape had taught him about as a new first year student of Hogwarts.

END