Slytherin Army [HP]

36. I'll Let You Die for a Spell

Happy new year! I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 2022 ;)

Also I had a very close call with COVID for the first time?? lmao what a week

P.S. a note on Cyndee's split personalities — I'm changing them a bit so that it's less confusing. There are now only two versions of "Cyndee": the traumatized one that takes all the damage and the protected one that's more mischievous. They often blend together. The vengeful one that holds most of the memories of Tristan and Morfinus is now called Irene.

Okok now enjoy the chapter!

Drew and her friends sat together in the middle of the Zabini library, the materials spread out all around them. The dark bookcases bursting with novels and vases loomed over them.

Drew was more anxious than the time the Death Eater threatened her, and she read the instructions over and over, moving her finger all over it so no information escaped. The wizarding world was in shambles, she and her sister had to Obliviate and relocate their family just in case, and she couldn't believe that she had this to worry about too.

Blaise had told his mother that they were practicing protection spells, and they had total privacy. She seemed surprised but pleased that Blaise had friends. She didn't stick around, just left some food and retreated.

Blaise was next to Drew now, reading the instructions with her and muttering disapprovingly.

Cyndee's hands shook as she flicked the syringes full of the antidote to the Draught of Mercy, ensuring the last of the air bubbles were out of the solution.

"You're lucky to have me," Isabella de Montmorency clucked, swishing her blonde hair self-importantly. Yeah, she was here too. Since they were on slightly good terms now and Drew did not want Wilby to die, she had asked Isabell to help them out. She was a potions expert after all, with a specialty in all things toxic.

Isabell gestured at the stoppered poison before her. "A swallow of this will take exactly sixty seconds to kill him once it touches his tongue. That doesn't change with amount, body weight, fat distribution, height, or even when he decides to swallow. That's because of its strong wandwork component."

"Okay," Drew said, too anxious to be annoyed at her speaking style. "And um, explain the needle again?"

"First of all, reversing poison isn't nearly as predictable. The body may be far too damaged." Isabell tapped one of the syringes. "This method produces the strongest effect immediately. I distilled it to make it extra potent. After all, you have but seven seconds to save him from death. Drinking antidotes work fast, but it would be cutting it too close."

She grabbed Wilby's arm and traced a line down it. "As I said, the vein here goes straight to his heart. Effects only take a second or two. And remember, these enchanted needles always hit a vein. It's impossible to mess up."

Drew nodded vaguely. She had gone over all the steps a hundred times already, but she wasn't feeling much better. Wilby was the least concerned out of all of them, and he calmly practiced the wand movement in the air.

Isabell saw her apprehension. "It will work. Plus, if his heart stops, it's not the end. With this much antidote in him, CPR would probably bring him back. Wizards never take basic first aid into account."

Drew didn't want to think about that. It reassured her and also didn't. "And you know CPR?"

Isabell interlaced her fingers and studied them closely. "Yes. Yes, of course. But it won't come to that. I also know spells that simulate AED."