mailroomy (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mailroomy) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} snape100,@ 2009-11-02 12:07:00 |
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Follow your Nose to Wherever
Title: follow your nose to wherever
Challenge: #306: Five Senses: Smell
Word Count: 5 x 100
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Summary: points of departure
---
Turned out they didn’t have to brew the potion from scratch.
Of course Severus would have the potion stashed away somewhere, in a vial stored in a worn walnut box with other vials. The fading label at one side of the box said: “Experiments & Other Somethings”. There were empty vials, half-filled vials, full vials.
“Looks old,” Minerva commented as she picked up a half-full vial labelled “Salacca #3 (!!)”. “Do you think it’s gone off?”
“Couldn’t be any worse than anything any of us brews,” Poppy added, thoughtfully. “If anything goes wrong, the Cure-All is within reach. And Bezoar.”
---
“Do you think this will make me understand Parseltongue?” Remus asked. “And while we’re at it, why am I the one drinking it?”
The two women glared at him.
“Do you think this will make me fluent in Parseltongue?” Will it make me Slytherin? “Will it react with my werewolf physiology?” he asked instead, eyeing the potion balefully. “How long will the potion last? Do you think we need more?”
“Why don’t you drink it, and we’ll see?”
“You do want to know what message that rope has for us, don’t you?”
He uncorked the vial, drank the rather-pleasant-smelling potion.
---
Stupid slow wizards. Small Odd-Accented Severus said wizards clever but rather dim. What woe. Ah, hardship, your cruel white hand… What are you staring at, wolf? Oh… you understand me now?
“Oh! The potion worked. Somewhat,” Remus wondered why he was surprised. This was Severus’s potion after all.
Well, I don’t understand you. Funny lowly wizard language. Nevermind that. Listen, that dark boy wanted me to lead you to where he’s held. You follow. No questions, right? Not that I can understand you. Ah, hardship.
Remus grabbed the rope and all but ran out of the workroom to the broomshed.
---
The old stone house stood in a large stretch of bogland somewhere in Wales. It was empty and his footsteps echoed within it.
He could pick out different scents, the strongest of which smelt something like fear. He tried to catch a scent of Severus, but found that he couldn’t. What he could pick out was thin and rather unremarkable. The occupants of this place had left quite a while ago it seemed.
The rope, coiled around his left hand, tugged him forecefully towards the dirt road out the back entrance.
Remus saw the track marks left by the caravan.
---
At the other end of those tracks, Severus sat huddled with the other children. He’d given up trying to mark every twist and turn of the caravan’s journey.
A few of them had sobbed themselves to sleep, others had taken to whispering to one another. Severus didn’t have the energy to try to eavesdrop.
Perry’d finally gone to sleep, after a fruitless monologue predicting their destination.
There were no windows on the caravan’s canvas walls, the door flap shut close. There wasn’t a hole large enough to look out from.
But, above the stale humidity, Severus could smell the sea.
---
(previous parts here)
Title: follow your nose to wherever
Challenge: #306: Five Senses: Smell
Word Count: 5 x 100
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Summary: points of departure
---
Turned out they didn’t have to brew the potion from scratch.
Of course Severus would have the potion stashed away somewhere, in a vial stored in a worn walnut box with other vials. The fading label at one side of the box said: “Experiments & Other Somethings”. There were empty vials, half-filled vials, full vials.
“Looks old,” Minerva commented as she picked up a half-full vial labelled “Salacca #3 (!!)”. “Do you think it’s gone off?”
“Couldn’t be any worse than anything any of us brews,” Poppy added, thoughtfully. “If anything goes wrong, the Cure-All is within reach. And Bezoar.”
---
“Do you think this will make me understand Parseltongue?” Remus asked. “And while we’re at it, why am I the one drinking it?”
The two women glared at him.
“Do you think this will make me fluent in Parseltongue?” Will it make me Slytherin? “Will it react with my werewolf physiology?” he asked instead, eyeing the potion balefully. “How long will the potion last? Do you think we need more?”
“Why don’t you drink it, and we’ll see?”
“You do want to know what message that rope has for us, don’t you?”
He uncorked the vial, drank the rather-pleasant-smelling potion.
---
Stupid slow wizards. Small Odd-Accented Severus said wizards clever but rather dim. What woe. Ah, hardship, your cruel white hand… What are you staring at, wolf? Oh… you understand me now?
“Oh! The potion worked. Somewhat,” Remus wondered why he was surprised. This was Severus’s potion after all.
Well, I don’t understand you. Funny lowly wizard language. Nevermind that. Listen, that dark boy wanted me to lead you to where he’s held. You follow. No questions, right? Not that I can understand you. Ah, hardship.
Remus grabbed the rope and all but ran out of the workroom to the broomshed.
---
The old stone house stood in a large stretch of bogland somewhere in Wales. It was empty and his footsteps echoed within it.
He could pick out different scents, the strongest of which smelt something like fear. He tried to catch a scent of Severus, but found that he couldn’t. What he could pick out was thin and rather unremarkable. The occupants of this place had left quite a while ago it seemed.
The rope, coiled around his left hand, tugged him forecefully towards the dirt road out the back entrance.
Remus saw the track marks left by the caravan.
---
At the other end of those tracks, Severus sat huddled with the other children. He’d given up trying to mark every twist and turn of the caravan’s journey.
A few of them had sobbed themselves to sleep, others had taken to whispering to one another. Severus didn’t have the energy to try to eavesdrop.
Perry’d finally gone to sleep, after a fruitless monologue predicting their destination.
There were no windows on the caravan’s canvas walls, the door flap shut close. There wasn’t a hole large enough to look out from.
But, above the stale humidity, Severus could smell the sea.
---
(previous parts here)
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