The Godmother

19. the grim stirs

Elizabeth felt herself shrink from the fire and draw a sharp breath, one that made her aware of the butterfly ribs in her stomach and how cold her skin was. She lurched from Dumbledore's office, falling onto his deep red Persian rug in the centre of the room.

She scuffed her wrists and knees as she fell. It took her a second to notice where she was, what with the odd and unique artefacts that sat on top of chests and inside cabinets, but she quickly realised she was only at a different angle.

Elizabeth stood up and dusted herself off, taking a deep breath. It was over. She'd done it. She'd lied and they'd believed her. She sighed again. Was that the only thing she could do? Breath in celebration of not being arrested?

When she looked up, her eyes met Dumbledore's. He seemed hopeless and lost behind the oceanic blue hue that made his irises. As Elizabeth watched more carefully, it was quickly layered, stuffed back and replaced with calamity and brilliance. She felt her hands meet each other in front of her stomach, fiddle and toy with the skin and pick at the stubs of flesh between her nails.

"Atticus Floyd got to you in time?", he said, perking up an ancient eyebrow.

"You sent him?", Elizabeth asked, slightly surprised. She'd only presumed he'd come of his own will when he each a rumour that she'd been locked up.

"Yes. I did", Dumbledore said, that glint of light in the corner of his eye flashing at her.

"Did you make the potion?", she asked. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Severus did. A long time ago. He created it, you know?", Dumbledore said. He stood up from his desk and walked around it to meet Elizabeth. He leaned wisely against the edge.

"Back when he was calling himself the Half-Blood Prince", Elizabeth said. She couldn't help but smile at Severus Snape's sixth-year phase when he called himself such a silly name. She didn't understand how James had held himself back. Sirius certainly hadn't.

"Yes. In your sixth year", Dumbledore said in an almost re-correcting tone. "That potion was one that could counter the effects of veritaserum by burning the main ingredient in that potion in your own bloodstream. Rosa Sanguis."

"Rose blood", Elizabeth translated quietly.

"Precisely. Rose blood. More commonly recognised as extracted rose serum. It seduces the drinker. Dampens the effects of the chemicals in their own brains so that the rest of the chemicals used in the potion can divulge their way into the drinkers mind", he explained.

"And the potion Sev made helps keep the mind in-tact", Elizabeth said.

"Yes. Without the weakening of your mind, the veritaserum they gave you did nothing. It wasn't strong enough to penetrate your head. Therefore, rendering you the ability to lie."

Elizabeth nodded.

"I didn't know you had so many people working for you", Elizabeth said, honestly. She met his eyes. He nodded in a sad sort of way.

"Yes, I do. We work for the better, Elizabeth. And they're all around you, whether you know it or not. That's the appeal of it. The unpredictability. Being able to surprise another by the unknowing bindings that brings people together. You and I both know the prices people will pay to see the end of a war and the ceasing of one before it can gather a chance to begin."

"I do", Elizabeth agreed. Dumbledore was silent after that. He had his hands resting, folded together, in front of him. He store into his fireplace, the one that Elizabeth had spewed out of. Elizabeth saw her wand on his desk beside him. She stepped forward and took it, feeling the confidence and reliability that she did, knowing that she had it back. She didn't feel so vunerable.