Unexpected Consequences

January 2000

At the end of the last year, Severus and Lucius Malfoy had been the only two marked Death Eaters to have survived the curse left behind by the Dark Mark. Lucius seemed to take longer to recover than the headmaster who forced himself out of his bed in a matter of weeks despite Poppy Pomfrey's protests.

The first spell he'd meant to cast was a simple lumos as it had been night when he'd woken and the room was dark but, for some reason, every lamp had exploded and every candle for that matter too, it had been a very messy affair. He'd never made a mistake casting a spell since he'd been a child and even then he'd never made such an error, so he was understandably concerned. He'd cast it wandlessly and non verbally so he attributed to exhaustion and reached for his wand which was on the bedside table. Then he cast a spell to repair the lamps but again, something went wrong. The broken lamps fixed themselves and the candles pieced themselves back together right before they began to polish themselves so much that the friction caused them to polish themselves into ashes.

Now fully awake, Severus wondered if he was dreaming. He went to conjure a glass of water on the nightstand but the glass kept on refilling itself and wouldn't stop even when the room became flooded.

Eventually, Albus Dumbledore's portrait became concerned after hearing the crashing sounds and now that there was water seeping through into the main office, he summoned Minerva who rushed into the room and exclaimed in shock at what she saw.

"What on earth?!" she exclaimed, "Why is..."

"Make it stop," Severus told her.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

Flustered, she pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it in front of her, cancelling all of the spells. Both she and Severus sighed in relief.

"Severus...what happened?" she asked.

"I...don't know," he answered, still staring at his wand in confusion.

"Perhaps it was too soon for you to..."

"I've cast far more complicated spells in far worse conditions than I'm in now and nothing has ever gone wrong like this before."

"The spells went wrong?"

"Yes."

"How exactly..."

"I conjured a glass of water," Severus said and briefly waved his hand round the room.

"And the room flooded?"

"The glass flooded. Before that I lit the lamp and every single one exploded. I made no mistake...they're simple spells. I don't know..." Severus sighed and rested his tried head in the palm of his hand for a moment.

"You still need rest, Severus," she said, walking over to him and all but tucking him back into bed. "Sleep for now. This can wait," she said.

About a week of rest later, Severus once again tried to cast a simple spell, a summoning spell to read a book and every single one of his books came crashing towards him from all directions at break neck speed. It was lucky for him that Minerva and Remus were in the room with him and they managed to cast shield charms around him before he was literally battered to death by his books.

It was then that he decided to reluctantly ask Poppy to cast a diagnostic charm on him to see just what was wrong. She, finding nothing, then decided to involve Minerva and Albus' portrait and they moved into the headmaster's main office where the portrait sat listening intently for several minutes.

"It's a very strange problem, indeed," Albus mused.

"It's intolerable," Severus remarked.

"I believe..." the former headmaster began, slowly, "That there's only one possible explanation," Albus said.

"And what is that?"

"That there is nothing wrong with you, Severus," he replied.

"There's clearly something..."

"Nothing that you cannot learn to control," the portrait told him firmly.

"I cannot control exploding lamps, flooding water glasses and books intent on bludgeoning me to death!"

"Yes, my boy, you can. The only explanation that fits is this. The only thing that's changed in you is that the Dark Mark is gone. You've lived with it for over twenty years and it was deeply bound to you, removing it must have an effect on you and your magic."

"You mean...my magic is uncontrollable every time I use it?"

"Not quite. Think about what went wrong with every spell. The lamps exploded with too much light. They cleaned themselves to pieces. The glass flooded. Not one book but hundreds came at your command. The spells didn't go wrong, they were overpowered. Your magic is coming back to you but it's stronger than before. The usual amount of magic you would use for each spell simply doesn't fit anymore, there's too much of it and the spell simply continues."

"Someone's magic doesn't just increase so dramatically..." Minerva shook her head.

"Well, the Dark Mark was a parasite that latched onto him when he was still young. A Wizard's magic doesn't mature until about 18 and the Mark was deeply bound to your magic just before that. Now that it's gone I think that Severus' magic has matured so rapidly that it's stronger and it's confused."

"Belated magical puberty, Albus?" Severus stated, dryly, "That's your explanation?"

"Well...when you word it quite like that..." Albus chuckled, "It does sound rather..."

"Ridiculous?"

"Odd. But I have no other explanation. You are a remarkably powerful wizard, Severus, the fact that you are stronger without the Mark strikes me as far more likely than a sudden magical mismatch between you and your wand or instant amnesia on your part."

Severus sighed and sat down in his desk chair. "Then...what am I to do? I can't even cast a summoning charm like this," he said.

"For the moment I suggest patience. Wait a while before you cast any more spells to allow your magic time to stabilise and then...be gentle. Cast small spells and re learn how much is required for each one."

"How much time?"

"I'm not exactly sure, there's not really a precedent for this that I'm aware of. Perhaps some research would be best. But for now, perhaps a month," Albus said.

"A month without magic," Severus said in disbelief.

"You survived for twenty years with everyone thinking the worst of you and expecting no reward, my dear boy, I'm quite certain your patience is up to the task."

Severus sighed and pursed his lip while Albus, as always, simply smiled at him. Sometimes he really had to wonder if the old man didn't just enjoy watching him suffer.

A week later, Severus was sure this was some kind of punishment. All he'd been trying to do was brew a simple bruise balm, nothing strenuous at all, but the potion had exploded. When brewing potions, magic was necessary otherwise muggles would be potion making left, right and centre. A wizard didn't usually notice the magic pouring from them and into the potion but as a potions master, Severus did. He thought he would be able to control it. But apparently not. The bruise balm soon oozed from the cauldron and began to take over the entire room.

He ran from the lab and bolted the door behind him, coughing and cursing and he reached for his wand only to pause and grumble again. He grimaced and called for one of the house elves to summon Minerva.

"What happened this time, Severus?" she asked.

"The room is saturated...with bruise balm," he admitted.

"How on earth..."

"Just...vanish it...if you would be so kind," Severus hissed.

"Things will improve," Minerva told him kindly with a hand on his shoulder.

She opened the door and was left aghast at the sight of the mountain of bruise balm that had taken over the room. It was a huge, pinkish, squelching mountain. It took a moment for it all to vanish and for her to clear the room of the destruction.

That evening as they sat in Severus private quarters, sipping from a fine tea and talking, Severus dropped his tea cup and buried a hand in his hair, clutching at his head with a gasp of surprise.

"Severus?" Minerva said, gazing over at him. "What is it?" she asked.

"Just...stop thinking," he demanded, grimacing.

"If only it were so easy," Minerva replied.

"Why on earth are you thinking about Quidditch?" Severus hissed.

"I like Quiditch," she shrugged, "And it's really a perfect day for it."

"And you!" Severus glared at Remus. "Stop thinking or I'll hex you and damn the consequences," he said.

"But I..."

"I'd rather endure the torture curse again than see images of you and your wife! Get out!"

"Err...right, yes, sorry, I'll just...right then," Remus flushed and tossed aside his newspaper as he all but fled from the room.

"Legillimency?" Minerva inferred, sadly. She walked over him and with a silent wave of her hand, she fixed the broken tea cup and vanished the slipped remains of the tea. "I thought you had excellent control," she remarked.

"I can control nothing like this," he grimaced, "And Legillimency was never my strong suit. Occlumency is."

"Well, it seems like everything else, it too is out of control," Poppy said.

"None of that will work," he said, answering her thoughts before she even had the chance to voice them. "My mind will still be active if you drug me, perhaps even more so because I'll have even less control. And you know as well as I do that calming draughts have little effect on me anymore."

"I see," the matron sighed.

"Why do you seem so thrilled at the prospect of rendering me unconscious?" Severus turned to Minerva.

"Well, would it work?" his deputy asked.

"Of course not," he replied. He sat back in his chair and let out a shaky breath.

"This is one side effect I wasn't expecting," Poppy remarked.

"Nor I. Fortunately, I know a solution," he said.

The headmaster stood shakily and made his way over to a small table across the room. On it, rested a fairly modern record player, as opposed to the ancient gramophone used for balls in the great hall, and beneath it was a small cabinet full of battered records. He picked one at random and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.

The music which followed, Minerva would swear gave her a heart attack. Most people raised in the wizarding world as she and Poppy had been, were not at all familiar with muggle music. Most tended to be raised with more classical music since the wizarding world was slow to catch up with muggle ideas and technologies. However, as a half blood, Severus could understand both having been raised more as a muggle in his early years. And he could safely say that wizarding music was subpar in comparison.

The first song that blasted out was perfect for what he needed. It was loud. He needed a distraction and this was perfect.

"Good gracious, what on earth is that?" Minerva asked, covering her ears in shock.

"Music," he replied and she scoffed.

"Black Sabbath?" Poppy read after picking up the album sleeve.

"What on earth is a black sabbath?" Minerva questioned.

"This is," he replied, smugly. He sat back down, smiling both at their expressions and at the fact that his old trick was working. Loud obnoxious music really did work wonders when he needed to stop thinking. It was far easier to focus on the music and the lyrics than it was to hear their mental voices screaming their concern in his head.

"Are we under attack?!" Phineas' portrait shouted out from the headmasters' office. The music was so loud the portraits could hear it in the next room and several had left their portraits for a much more quiet setting. They were no strangers to Severus taste for loud music in the last few years but they'd never heard it this loud before.

"No, Phineas, it's music!" Albus shouted back.

"What?!" the former Headmaster cried.

"It's Severus' muggle music!" Albus tried again.

"Muggles?! Muggles are attacking?! Well, we'll show them!" Phineas stormed from his portrait, smugly.

"Oh, dear," Albus sighed.

"I quite like it," Dilys said, dancing with Everard.

After weeks of restraining his magic, Severus began with small spells as Albus had suggested and eventually and with much concentration, he was able to use magic without such destructive consequences. However, Albus had also been right in the sense that he needed far more effort to control the spells, even simple ones because otherwise he'd be back to being bludgeoned by books or flooded from a glass of water. Suffice to say that 'all's well that ends well', but it was an incident in his life he'd rather like to forget.