"I believe so," he said finally. "Not with conventional counter-curses, but with a hybrid approach combining potion therapy and specialized containment wards. It will require custom formulations I'll need to brew immediately."
Hope flickered briefly in Dumbledore's eyes. "You sound more confident than I expected, given the darkness of this magic."
"The curse is indeed advanced," Marquas acknowledged, "but it follows certain fundamental principles that can be exploited. I'll need to work quickly, though. The longer it progresses, the more difficult containment becomes."
He spent the next hour applying temporary containment charms to slow the curse's spread while taking magical samples for his experimental counter-measures. Throughout the procedure, Dumbledore remained remarkably stoic, asking occasional questions about the technical aspects as if they were discussing an interesting academic problem rather than his potential death sentence.
"I find it curious," the Headmaster commented as Marquas completed the temporary treatment, "that you seem unusually prepared for this specific scenario. Almost as if you anticipated the possibility."
It was a probing question, veiled in casual observation, typical Dumbledore. Marquas chose his response carefully.
"Cursed artifacts are a standard risk when hunting dark wizards' possessions," he replied neutrally. "I've been researching countermeasures for various scenarios since we identified the Horcruxes as targets. This particular curse family was among those I considered likely, given Voldemort's preferences."
Not the complete truth, but close enough to be believable without revealing his impossible foreknowledge.
"Impressively thorough preparation," Dumbledore remarked, studying him with those penetrating blue eyes. "You continue to demonstrate foresight that exceeds my expectations. Sometimes, a thought crosses my mind, what if you're not even the Snape I grew up watching, the one I thought I knew? But then, I quickly push the thought away, not wanting to face what it might mean."
As he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on Marquas's, searching for the slightest flicker of doubt or hesitation.
"I prefer to be prepared for worst-case scenarios," Marquas stated simply and tried to avios the topic. "Which brings me to our immediate plan: I'll need to return to my private laboratory to begin brewing the counter-curse potions. The first treatment should be administered within six hours for optimal effectiveness."
"Very well," Dumbledore nodded. "I shall make myself available whenever you're ready. And Severus, thank you."
Dumbledore choose not to press the matter further. The genuine gratitude in the old wizard's voice was something the original Snape had rarely experienced, at least not so directly expressed. It created an odd moment of dissonance for Marquas, a reminder that this wasn't just a story he was rewriting, but a reality with actual people whose lives and well-being now partially depended on his actions.
"Save your thanks until we see results," he replied gruffly, gathering his diagnostic equipment. "And in the meantime, perhaps consider wearing protective gloves when handling artifacts belonging to the darkest wizard of our time."
Dumbledore's surprised laugh followed him out of the office leaving him alone in his circular office, or nearly alone. The ancient Sorting Hat sat on its shelf, its creased leather face now animated with unusual attentiveness.
Dumbledore remained standing for a long moment, stroking his silver beard thoughtfully before turning to him.
"Did you notice something in him?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his blue eyes lacking their usual twinkle.
The Sorting Hat remained silent, its wrinkled folds shifting slightly as if deep in contemplation. The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses pretended to sleep, though several cracked their painted eyelids to observe the exchange.
"Nothing definitive," the Hat finally replied, its voice like old parchment rustling. "But if you were to let me sit upon his head properly, mind you, not just for a moment's greeting, perhaps I could find something of interest."
The Hat shifted on its shelf, its point curling with what appeared to be concern. "However, there is something unusual that has been occurring these past few months. I've been hearing whispers, voices that should not be. The voice of an old friend who should have long departed this world."
Dumbledore's silver eyebrows rose sharply at these words. He moved closer to the Hat, lowering his voice though they were alone.
"Which one?" he asked, a rare note of genuine curiosity in his tone. After all, the Sorting Hat had witnessed the passing of countless wizards over its thousand-year existence.
The Hat seemed to hesitate before answering, its leather creasing into what might have been a frown.
"Herpo the Foul," it finally said, the name hanging ominously in the air. "Whispers from the Chamber of Death, from behind the Veil itself." The Hat's voice became almost accusatory. "Don't you find it curious, Albus? All this happening in concert with the changes we've observed in Severus. There's been a disturbance, something significant that has created a tear in the Veil of Death itself."
Fawkes let out a soft, mournful trill from his perch, sensing the gravity of the conversation.
Dumbledore turned away, moving to the window where he could see the grounds of Hogwarts bathed in moonlight. His reflection in the glass appeared suddenly older, more burdened.
"Herpo the Foul," Dumbledore repeated softly, almost to himself. The name was rarely spoken, a dark wizard of such ancient infamy that most modern texts mentioned him only in footnotes. The pioneer who had first delved into the blackest arts, creating both the first Horcrux and breeding the first Basilisk.
The implications chilled him to his core. If the changes in Severus somehow connected to Herpo's whispers from beyond the Veil... this was far more troubling than he had initially anticipated.
Dumbledore turned back to face the Hat, his face grave. "You're certain of this connection? Between Severus and these... disturbances in the Veil?"
"I cannot be certain of anything without more direct contact," the Hat replied. "But I have existed in this castle since the Founders walked these halls, Albus. I have felt magic of all kinds, witnessed the rise and fall of countless dark wizards. This feels... familiar. Dangerous. Old magic stirring once more."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his mind racing through possibilities, each more troubling than the last.
As he turned to his desk to draft an urgent owl, he knew that what he had initially dismissed as peculiar behavior in his Potions Master now held far graver implications. There was indeed more drama unfolding than he had anticipated, a dangerous play whose script was written in ancient and forbidden magic.
••••
The next seventy-two hours passed in a blur of intense work, divided between teaching obligations that couldn't be canceled without raising questions, preparation for the Gringotts operation with Regulus, and the development of an experimental treatment for Dumbledore's cursed hand.
It was the last of these that consumed most of Marquas's energy and focus. Drawing on both Snape's extensive knowledge of dark curses and his own innovative approach to magical problem-solving, he created a three-part treatment protocol:
First, a potion designed to isolate and contain the curse within the already-affected tissue, preventing further spread. This built upon the temporary containment the original Snape had achieved but incorporated magical binding agents that adapted to the curse's attempts to bypass barriers.
Second, a localized stasis field that essentially removed the affected hand from normal temporal progression, freezing the curse in its current state rather than merely slowing its advance. This was perhaps the most experimental element, combining concepts from time-manipulation charms and preservation enchantments.
Finally, a restorative draft that would gradually regenerate healthy tissue around the contained curse, essentially walling it off permanently within a magically reinforced structure of new cellular growth.
"It won't restore full functionality to the hand," Marquas explained to Dumbledore as he administered the final component of the treatment. "The curse is too deeply embedded for complete reversal. But this approach should permanently prevent its spread and preserve your life without the degenerative effects you would otherwise experience."
Dumbledore examined his blackened hand with academic interest as the stasis field settled into place, visible as a subtle shimmer when caught in the right light. "Remarkable spellwork, Severus. I don't believe I've seen this particular combination of techniques before."
"It's an original approach," Marquas acknowledged. "Conventional wisdom holds that such curses can only be slowed, not stopped. But conventional wisdom often fails to consider interdisciplinary solutions."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, flexing his damaged fingers experimentally. The movement was limited but more controlled than before the treatment. "How long until we know if it's successful?"
"The containment should be immediately effective, you'll notice the pain has already diminished," Marquas replied. "The long-term stability will become apparent over the next several weeks as the restorative elements take hold. You'll need regular monitoring and potential adjustments to the stasis field."
What he didn't say, because it would raise too many questions, was that this treatment represented a significant deviation from the original timeline. In the books, Dumbledore had been essentially given a death sentence by the curse, with Snape only able to contain it temporarily. This new approach, if successful, might extend Dumbledore's life considerably beyond that year limit, with profound implications for the war's progression.
"I remain in your debt," Dumbledore said quietly. "Both for this intervention and for your continued efforts against Voldemort's Horcruxes. Speaking of which, what is your assessment of our progress?"
Marquas provided a carefully curated update, sharing information about their Gringotts plans without revealing the extent of Regulus's direct involvement or their goblin contact. "With the ring now secured and destroyed, we've eliminated three of the six suspected Horcruxes. The cup likely remains in the Lestrange vault, while the diary's location is still unknown."
Their discussion continued briefly, establishing next steps and coordination protocols, Dumbledore never shared anything about the fool with Severus unless he had confirmed it himself. Both men guarded secrets, secrets that could alter the course of the coming war, yet neither was willing to confide in the other.
Marquas excused himself to prepare for his final class of the day, seventh-year Defense, where they would be covering advanced counter-curse techniques. The irony of teaching this subject immediately after developing an experimental counter-curse for Dumbledore wasn't lost on him.
The Gringotts operation was scheduled for two days hence, barely enough time to finalize preparations and coordinate with Regulus, especially given his teaching obligations and the need to monitor Dumbledore's treatment progress. But the timeline was dictated by Nagrok's information about security patrol schedules and optimal entry windows.
As he worked late into the night, preparing both lesson plans and infiltration strategies, Marquas found himself oddly energized despite the physical exhaustion. There was something undeniably satisfying about applying his unique blend of knowledge and skills to problems that had seemed insurmountable in the original story.
The cursed hand that had effectively killed Dumbledore? Potentially neutralized with innovative magical medicine. The seemingly impossible Gringotts break-in that had required a dragon escape in the books? Approaching it with goblin cooperation and strategic planning rather than desperate improvisation.
Of course, success was far from guaranteed. The Gringotts operation remained extraordinarily dangerous, and his treatment for Dumbledore was experimental at best. But the mere fact that he was finding new approaches to these challenges, rather than following the predetermined tragic path of the original timeline, provided a sense of agency and purpose that transcended mere survival.
"Rewriting the story," he reminded himself as he finally prepared for a few hours of much-needed sleep. "One impossible problem at a time."