Snape pulled out the bottle's stopper, and strange, curling wisps of fragrance immediately drifted from the mouth of the crystal vial.
"Smell it," he said, holding the bottle directly under Sirius's nose.
Sirius instinctively frowned and stepped back two paces, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, but he couldn't resist taking a cautious sniff.
"Love Potion?" he asked tentatively.
"Correct," Snape said with a slight nod. "What scent did you smell?"
"What business is that of yours?" Sirius's tone was stiff; he refused to answer.
The fragrance rising from the bottle made him recall the same enticing scent he had once encountered in Slughorn's classroom earlier that term, the mingled smell of the Forbidden Forest cloaked in mist after midnight rain, and the freshly trimmed grass of the Quidditch pitch.
Back then, James had asked him the same question, and he had dodged it with a casual excuse.
He believed that he and James would always be best friends. As a friend, he should support James in pursuing his own happiness.
"Who are you planning to use this on?" Sirius asked warily.
"Just need one of your hairs," Snape said, and before Sirius could react, he deftly plucked a stray strand from Sirius's shoulder, dropped it into the crystal bottle, and gave it a gentle swirl. "Now, it's yours, and yours alone."
Once the hair was added, the Love Potion turned completely transparent, and the alluring aroma vanished.
Sirius stepped back again, his eyes full of caution.
"I don't need that," he said. "I don't use tricks like this to deal with girls."
"You've always been popular with them," Snape said, looking at him curiously. "But who said this was for girls?"
Snape believed the danger of Amortentia, the most famous potion created by the Dark Lord himself, had been greatly underestimated. Though in recorded cases it was usually girls dosing boys, the potion's effects were clearly not limited by gender.
Take poor old Tom, for example. He had been enjoying a fine romance with his beautiful girlfriend, Cecilia, when, after drinking a glass of water she handed him, he inexplicably ended up with a child who shared his name. When he finally regained his senses, there was no justice awaiting him, only ruin and tragedy.
Even more absurdly, in later years, Love Potions would be sold openly at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, available for delivery straight to Hogwarts by owl order.
When Sirius didn't take the bottle Snape was holding out to him, Snape continued, "James hasn't left the Gryffindor Tower for days, has he? He even missed today's Quidditch match. Do you really think he can recover from this blow on his own?"
"Don't glare at me like that," Snape said calmly. "What's done is done, no amount of anger can change it. Just like when you lot once hung me upside down right here, you need to learn, as I did, to live with the consequences."
Sirius stayed silent, his face growing darker. He seemed to understand the hidden meaning behind Snape's words.
"James must've told you he likes Lily," Snape said. "But think about it, if you were such an outstanding girl, would you fall for someone who had exposed his bare backside in front of the whole school?"
Sirius's wand was raised again, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Don't get worked up. Relax." Snape shrugged. "What we should be discussing now is how to fix the problem. If James keeps sinking like this, your best friend will be destroyed.
"I believe you are his best friend. Sometimes, between two people, there's only a thin wall of glass left unbroken.
"I've read in a Muggle book that, in situations like this, a bit of... positive stimulation can help a person recover from emotional pain."
"Take it." Snape shoved the crystal bottle into Sirius's hand. His voice was low, almost serpentine, whispering in Sirius's ear. "Whether you use it or not, it's up to you. Just remember, this is to help him..."
A cold wind swept across the lake, damp with mist, sighing through the branches of the great beech tree.
Having said his piece, Snape turned and walked away. By the time he reached the stone steps before the castle, he looked back. In the distance, under the shadow of the beech tree, Sirius still stood motionless.
Snape wasn't sure if Sirius would ever make use of the potion, but he knew one thing, Sirius's eyes held no one but James.
When Snape entered the Entrance Hall, he noticed Filch whispering quietly with Madam Pince.
Curious, he sat down on the outermost bench and craned his neck, straining to catch their words.
At times like this, how useful a Weasley twin's Extendable Ear would have been.
"Yes... I found her in the village," Madam Pince's voice came faintly, broken by pauses. "They said her mother abandoned her because she was too weak..."
"Can I see her...?" Filch muttered. "Ah, poor little thing... Let me take care of her, Irma. I'll look after her..."
Snape was listening so intently that his body was leaning halfway off the bench toward the door.
"Sit up straight!" Filch's shout suddenly exploded beside him. Snape jumped in fright as Filch barked, "If you don't want to eat, you can spend your time in my office instead!"
After that, Filch picked out a few pieces of chicken breast and beef from a serving tray and hummed a little tune as he left the Great Hall.
When he reappeared before the students again, a small kitten was perched faithfully at his side. The little cat had dark gray fur and followed him everywhere. Filch called her Mrs. Norris.
February turned to March in the blink of an eye. The weather hardly improved, it remained damp and windy.
During this time, Snape and his small circle of friends would occasionally spend time with a shy, straw-haired boy whenever they could escape the notice of others.
Among them, Abbott was especially generous with praise for young Barty. She nearly wanted to shove a quill right into his hand, if not for him, Professor Grapeland's essay on "How to Repel Dementors" might never have been finished.
One day, when they met again in the library, Barty hesitated for a long time before casually crumpling a small scrap of parchment and tossing it near Snape's feet as though by accident.
Pretending to have dropped his book, Snape bent down to pick it up and, in the same motion, slipped the paper ball into his sleeve.
When he straightened up again, Madam Pince's vulture-like face was suddenly right before him.
"What have you done to that book, you wicked child?" she screeched.
"Sacrilege!" Madam Pince's face flushed red. "Defilement!"
She looked on the verge of a heart attack. Snape quickly gathered his things and bolted out of the library.
Hurrying to a deserted corner, he unfolded the crumpled scrap. Written in neat, tidy handwriting was a short, cryptic message:
They want us to join now.