11 May: Unlikely Alliances Who: Remus Lupin & Severus Snape What: In search of academic discussion and opinions on the Belby Trials, Remus visits Severus in Knockturn alley. When: Saturday early evening Where: Mulpepper’s Apothecary, Knockturn Alley Warnings: Discussion around werewolf prejudice; references to child (Remus) maltreatment
This was probably a bad idea. Although it wasn’t his worst. Remus needed insight from an impartial source. For better and worse that source was Severus Snape. The very same person he tried to eat when he was fifteen because Sirius ran his mouth. There was probably better ways to make friends, or enemies for that matter. Yet, here they were.
Remus supposed a better man would bristle walking into Knockturn. Only within a week of the full moon and the wolf simmering close to the surface, Remus didn’t hesitate. (It wasn’t the worst thing he could get caught doing.) Yet, he did tense at the shop bell when he walked into Mulpepper’s Apothecary.
“I know you’re about to close, but I was hoping to purchase some powered silver and dittany.” He smiled, a little too big, and then corrected. Casual was best here. Casual and non-threatening. And he really did need to restock his supplies.
Mulpepper’s wasn’t the most disreputable shop on the row, but neither was it the sort of place anyone lingered. The shelves were too close and a little too narrow, and the overall impression was sort of cramped in a way that implied disorder or grime. Severus didn’t mind it. The clutter was purposeful and not at all dirty or messy. He knew where everything was. He knew why it was there. And he enjoyed watching the odd patron wander in, get overwhelmed, and slink out again without asking for help.
Entertainment was scarce on the ground in retail. He’d take what he could get.
When Remus arrived, he was distilling an ounce of horklump juice into a small bottle under the watchful eye of a witch who seemed to think he might short her. Then again, she was shopping in Knockturn. Fair trade didn’t really exist here. “Be with you in a moment,” he replied, arching a brow before stoppering the bottle and handing it over. The witch examined it from all angles, eyes narrowed, and finally scuttled out, muttering about outrageous prices.
Severus rolled his eyes and stepped out from behind the counter so he could lock up. It was close enough to time and he was unlikely to net another customer today anyway.
Remus filled time glancing through the shelves, trying not to let himself get lost in all the different scents. There was a very good reason why he did so poorly with potions. He watched the witch leave and then Severus lock the door. Of all the places to die … Remus shrugged.
“I do actually need those ingredients, if you have them?” He could get them elsewhere, of course, but it sort of gave an extra layer of legitimacy for his visit tonight.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that Remus had, essentially, put himself in a position to be locked into a building in which Severus had all the advantages. That was either some weird form of personal penance he didn’t understand, trust that he wouldn’t do anything rash (probably not that one, trust wasn’t in great supply among basically everyone Severus knew or had ever known, never mind between him and someone who’d made a solid play at eating his face once upon a time), or Remus just didn’t care.
Whatever it was, it meant Severus turned the locks and set the anti-theft charms along the door before retreating to collect the ingredients that had been requested. Motivation wasn’t his business. Remus was here and had questions. That was the point.
“How much, then?” The scales were still out. He’d yet to clean up, so another purchase wouldn’t put him behind.
Remus had been locked in worse places, under far worse circumstances, and by people he loved. Whatever Severus might have planned was inconsequential. He had and would continue to survive worse. That was his gift and his curse.
“However much this covers?” He held out a few coins. Not much, but well earned from a short gig this morning. Sure, he could have easily get access to more from Sirius or James, but Remus’s pride often won out.
Leaning forward, Severus eyed the coins, made a thoughtful noise, and nodded. “Equally divided between the dittany and silver, or do you prefer one to be the bigger part of the purchase?” One was slightly cheaper than the other, but Severus could make the math work either way.
He’d no particular comment on the handful of coins. Severus wasn’t exactly flush with money himself, and never had been.
“Two parts silver to one part dittany?” The silver was harder to come by, and more expensive, better to stock up when he had the money. Remus set the coins on the counter. “Thank you, again, for being willing to discuss further the Belby project. Which I reluctantly admit am interested to see what comes next.”
“Done,” Severus agreed, beginning to measure and weigh. The silver first, since that would be the larger part of the purchase, though he kept it tilted well away from Remus as he worked. No sense in accidentally causing injury. That would only bring Black down on his head, and he would rather avoid that. He hadn’t invited Remus here to wound.
Glancing over, Severus arched a brow.. “What do you know of it already? The basic gist, I presume.”
Remus shifted, suddenly rather put out by not having something to do with his hands. He should have brought a fidget. “He is the latest in the new wave of werewolf … management that is more about finding a way to tame or tamper the beast rather than cure.” It was a rather rudimentary overview. Lyall was all too excited about Belby. So Remus found himself in possession of a number of articles and even an early copy of the first clinical trial. “And really, I’m more familiar with the utter disaster that was Belarus than present work.”
“Ah.” A world of judgment resided in that lone syllable, accompanied by the curl of a lip. The Belarus trials were a complete disaster, the likes of which that made the researcher in him cringe. Severus supposed that they were lucky that the community had been able to recover from that mess and continue forward.
Sealing up the silver, he set it aside. “Obviously, the consensus has become that there is no cure that won’t be fatal… which isn’t much cure.” He snorted. A clean corpse was still a corpse. “Which turned the interest toward neutralising the more animalistic traits. Physical transformation is hard to impact considering that werewolves are already greatly changed, so. Mental influence, instead. Separating out those things has been very… tricky.”
Remus snorted. “And so many of those cures were only just thinly veiled expensive torture.” Not all, but by in far the majority. Oh the stories Remus could tell. Not that he would. He did his best not to be nostalgic about his childhood.
“This new line of inquiry is sort of like teasing out the line between werewolf and animagus?” Lucky for him, he was far more capable in transfiguration so the theory behind what Belby was trying made any sort of sense. “If you can’t control the physical change, how can you allow the cursed man to keep his wits?”
There was an odd line on torture and research, at least where creatures were concerned. Werewolves were not human, so there were plenty of people who had no particular qualms in poisoning them to death just to learn where the lines were. And there were some that weren’t even pretending at a cure. They were just using the excuse to eliminate a perceived threat.
Severus didn’t condone that sort of thing… though, admittedly, it was because he considered it shoddy research practices.
“That’s where the Belarus trials went sideways,” he agreed, tying off the dittany and setting both small parcels together on the counter. The coins, he swept into his palm and then deposited them in the till. “Results were confused and mixed over what was actually success… and what was really a werewolf that was sick and dying, which made for less of a threat, but also no kind of cure.” Among other things, anyway. There were so many false results and altered findings in there that scrapping the lot was the better option.
That line was where the fear and worry lay. Remus had long since given up hoping for a cure. He made due with what he had. It wasn’t a horrible life, but it certainly wasn’t one without risk. “Well, that’s the challenge. Are werewolves human, or just subjects to be used and disposed. And Belby is getting enough chatter to have people stepping forward…”
Remus shook his head. “You -- well, no, you probably wouldn’t be surprised at how many, adults and children alike, would volunteer for the chance of a different future. Especially because this Belby man seems nice enough.”
No, Severus was not surprised. He was not surprised to hear that Belby wasn’t struggling to find volunteers. What was the surprise was knowing the man was making headway. No one had before. Even Severus hadn’t thought about it previously, and he did have something like firsthand experience with encountering a werewolf. Something like, anyway.
Then again, everyone else had been fixated on curing the curse altogether. Which just wasn’t a possibility.
“Mm. He’s surprisingly affable, for a brewer,” Severus allowed, dryly. Potions did not attract the most social or friendly of people. It was a solitary, meticulous, sometimes boring job. “And having spoken to him, I don’t doubt that his intentions are good. He’ll just… have to hope that once he’s refined his work, anyone trying to recreate it doesn’t use it as an excuse to do something cruel.”
Remus looked away a beat. Severus was difficult to read. He confused his wolf brain. On a basic level this man didn’t pose a threat. He was a squishy human. But the wolf didn’t appreciate the power of knowledge and secrets. The beast didn’t understand the vulnerability of their existence.
“Belby could find a treatment and end up fueling a mass execution.” He desperately wanted to ask Snape where he stood. This was a man who presumably didn’t like him and would readily agree that werewolves were dangerous beasts. He wasn’t the moral compass, but he was a good litmus test. (But for as brave as Remus could be, he could still be a coward.) “And most people wouldn’t care. They might even find it a kindness. Kill you or save you, it reduces the problem.” Remus wiggled his nose, a motion which pulled at the scars on his face. Those brought him a small comfort, as they were a reminder that Greyback was dead and that was a far better option.
“Same could be said for any other potion containing volatile or unsafe ingredients,” Severus murmured, idly. Most basic potions were safe and couldn’t be rendered otherwise, by design or accident. Some, though. Some used poisonous ingredients rendered inert by other ingredients. A few things out of balance, a wrong step in the preparation… well.
Food for thought, anyway. A nudge, if Remus were paying attention.
He shrugged. “It’s why I think he’s likely going to have to break the potion down into multiple doses. The amount of aconite is going to be unsafe otherwise.”
Remus hummed in agreement. Severus wasn’t wrong. The context certainly mattered. “A fine line between poison and medicine.” Which wasn’t a new position to navigate. Except he now knew some of those more marginalized desperate werewolves, the same that would follow Greyback. They deserved better. “Is there anything else I should know about the potion? Or Belby?”
“It’s going to cost.” Severus pulled out a ledger, making a note of the day’s last purchases. “The aconite might be the most dangerous ingredient in the mix, but some of the others are rare. Think about the priciest potions meant for sharpening the wits and go up from there.” He couldn’t say how far up, but he could guess.
There was a pause, a tic in Severus’ jaw, and he glanced up. “Once he publishes… there’s likely to be a rush to reproduce and sell. Anyone offering discounts or bargains, I’d be wary. If you do buy... “ Another pause, and he exhaled. Heavily. “Bring it around and I’ll test it first.” He had pride in what he did. He was a professional. Letting knockoff idiots flood the market would only hurt in the long-term.
“Not really me I’m most worried about.” Remus could already see the political and social battle on the horizon. And he was just so tired over it all, but especially that stupid voice in his head that wouldn’t let him stop. Remus imagined it might even be better if the trials failed. If Belby never published. “And there are at least a half dozen other obstacles before that’s even a possibility, but if I do ever find myself in possession of the potion, I will give you right of first refusal on poisoning.” There was a weary laughter that followed.
A brow went winging up. That was a delightfully morbid joke; the sort of thing Severus would normally say, just to watch someone else squirm. It was off-putting to be on the receiving end. “Just what I’ve always wanted,” he drawled, “Thank you.”
The trials would take a while longer, publishing longer still. Maybe years, even, and maybe by then all of this wouldn’t matter anyway. But he’d done his good deed for the day by offering, so there.
Remus smiled. He reached for his parcels to put them into his satchel. “I live ever to serve.”