Seeing her confused look he elaborated: “The Sudanese Blister Beetle is related to the Spanish Fly. I don’t think I have to tell you that it is a very powerful aphrodisiac!”

She shook her head. “But I thought these stories about aphrodisiacs were all fraud?”

He shot dark glances at her when he told her in a hollow voice: “Trust me, if you had any idea of what I’m going through every time you even come near me…you’d believe it.”

She backed away from him, still not sure what to think of it.

“Wasn’t it mentioned in the book when you searched for the ingredients?

“Err…yes, I do think I read something about it, but I disregarded it as folkloristic superstition.”

“NEVER, EVER ignore the properties of a certain ingredient, even if it seems far-fetched. It’s written there for a purpose, or did you think it was for your amusement?”

She felt miserable. Seeing the sad look on her face, he calmed down. “It’s ok, it will wear off. Besides, I think that the cannabis will counteract most of the effects; it makes me feel rather languid. All I need right now is some food to regain my strength and a shower. A cold one…a very cold one.” He smiled at her and Tori was relieved that he wasn’t angry anymore. She left him alone so she could get some dinner as well.

Fawkes followed her on her way out and flew back to Dumbledore’s office. It was a strange sight, this large bird flying through the Hogwarts’ passages!

When Tori left, Snape sent for a large steak, and potatoes. He found himself totally famished and devoured the food in record time, barely tasting any of it. Next, he went to his bathroom and stepped into the shower. The cold water refreshed him completely and he felt reborn when he came out again. Looking into the mirror, he saw this large grin on his face. Not that he had any particular reason to be happy about something, but he just could not get himself to change his facial expression. He wanted to indulge himself in his usual gloomy mood, but instead he had to force himself not to start humming a cheerful tune. The world felt like such a wonderful place. He looked at Crookshanks and had to restrain himself from picking him up and burying his hands in the thick fur, not in the least bothered when the cat kept following him around, and he hated cats! Damn drugs, they were illegal for a reason! For a moment he would have preferred the pains from the Cruciatus Curse. Anything but this! Well, it could have been worse. At least the cantharides had stopped sending fire bolts through his body. Reassured his condition would only be temporary, he tried to reconcile himself with the idea that he would be taking a rosy view of things for a while.

At that very moment, Tori came back into the room from dinner. She started to say something, but he could not hear a thing she saying. Only the sound of his blood, pumping through his veins, kept buzzing in his ears. His eyes were drawn to her chest like he was suffering from some kind of tunnel vision. He blinked, trying to snap out of it, but nothing changed. She stopped talking in the middle of a sentence, noticing the strange look on his face. Before either of them could prevent it, he had thrown himself at her, making her struggle to stay on her feet. He growled when his hands started tearing the clothes off of her, his mouth plundering hers when their tongues entwined in lustful play.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She turned around, feeling utterly exhausted and said: “I won’t be able to sit for a week,” before she fell asleep in his arms.

He smiled as he wrapped one arm tighter around her and whispered, “That’ll teach you to not look down upon folklore.”