Double Dog Dare! -- Episode 24
Anna, 4 May 2002

The trouble with Stupefy, Severus Snape thought sourly, running his tongue along his teeth, was that it left a nasty taste in your mouth.

On the positive side, individuals reacted to it differently - some shrugged off the effects in a matter of minutes; others weren't themselves for days afterward. He happened to be one of the former.

But Janet Tewksberry didn't need to know that.

The small stone room in which he was locked was dim and damp, with a soggy earthen bottom, and smelled strongly of marsh; two of the four walls were covered in a light fur of mildew, and Severus suspected that if he didn't get out soon, he'd start to grow moss as well. Dimly, he recalled that the Muggles had a saying about that, but he wasn't in any state of mind to remember it properly.

Before the Merry Widow got back from her romp through Azkaban - oh, yes, he knew about that; he did a fair impersonation of unconsciousness when the stakes were high enough, and Janet was one of those females who tended to talk to herself - he had to be gone. She'd already told him what he could expect upon her return.

Snape's lip curled. Typical of her, really - the potion wasn't particularly difficult to brew, nor did it serve any special purpose, other than the infliction of mental anguish. Of course, for some people, that was enough end in itself.

And he still remembered well enough what it had done to others, that he definitely didn't want it done to him.

Once again, he paced the perimeter of his improvised cell, scouting for structural weaknesses that, regrettably, didn't reveal themselves. Once again, he tested the anti-Apparation barrier. It was still there.

Damn.

If only he had his wand.

Disconsolate, he sank down on one of Janet Tewksberry's battered wicker chairs and tried not to think about how long she'd been gone - how soon she'd be back. Most disturbing, that he didn't remember getting into this little slime pit, that he had no recollection of leaving Hogwarts at all. His last fuzzy memory was of Viviane - all menace and righteous indignation, as usual - snarling, "As much as I'd like to apply my own personal vision of justice, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you back to Dumbledore."

Merlin's testicles, he'd thought admiringly. How could I have mistaken the imitation of her for the real thing?

And then, blackness. Clearly, Something Had Happened, and it hadn't been good. But where was Viviane, and where was ... urggh, Sirius?

And who, damn it all, was feeding his dog?

Moodily, he flicked a clump of blackened macaroni casserole against one of the furry walls - Janet Tewksberry might be adept at the Dark Arts, but she couldn't cook to save her mother from alligators. Assuming, of course, that she'd even try.

It was then that he heard the little scrabbling sounds at his door.

Mice, he assumed, drawn by the smell of food - though to survive in this dump, they'd need gondolas. "Good luck, champ," he said wearily in the direction of the door. "Eat this garbage, and you'll be belly-up in the swamp before you can say Petrificus Totalis."

More scrabbling - incredibly, Severus thought he saw the slice of dim light coming from under the door grow infinitesimally wider. That's one monster of a mouse, he thought, then heard a muffled "Rrrrrrriffff!", and immediately overturned the plate of macaroni in his shock.

"Fidelis?"

More scrabbling. Another bark. Snape dropped to his knees in the chilly muck and began to scoop away at it with his bare hands. A few tense minutes of digging, and a small muddy shape, all tongue and cold wet nose, came barrelling at him from under the door, knocking him backward.

"Fidelis," he said, and lifted the muck-encrusted spaniel up to his cheek. He was smiling for the first time in days. "Oh, good dog. Good dog."

It was a full five minutes before he noticed that Fidelis had dropped his wand at his feet.