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Caged Wolf
Chapter 7: The Daily Prophet
by Amphitrite
Hey, lookit, after an eight-month hiatus...
Daily Prophet, Wednesday 26 January 1977
WEREWOLF ATTACK AT HOGWARTS
Severus Snape, 17, at the brink of death
By Ben Everett
Last night, known to few, was a Full Moon. Most were blissfully unaware of the fact, and those who did gave it little consideration.
Unless they were a werewolf.
One such werewolf is Remus Lupin, 17, who we can now reveal has been a werewolf since he was four years old; a dangerous, sub-human animal, and yet he still attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for nearly seven years. It is as of yet unknown how Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the school, could have allowed such an atrocity to happen, for it has led to a tragedy last night.
Severus Snape was merely taking a walk before he returned to his dormitory when he came across Lupin in his transformed state, the werewolf ferocious and hungry for meat. Circumstances are unclear as to how he escaped, but Mr. Snape is now in the Hogwarts’ hospital wing, fighting for his life. Lupin was caught and immediately brought to the Ministry upon his retransformation, where he will be charged for assault and endangerment of minors.
This is a shocking story for the world to be waking up to, and brings serious doubts to Dumbledore's handling of Hogwarts School.
“Werewolves are dangerous,” a Department of Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures says bluntly. “There's no way around that fact—they are filthy creatures who are no longer human, and should not be allowed to intermingle with us ordinary folk. Having one at Hogwarts is a danger to our children.”
Lupin's trial will be held on Friday 4th February, a little more than a week's time. Whether or not Mr. Snape survives his ordeal will make a great impact on Lupin's sentence.
The Daily Prophet will be following this story avidly, so stay tuned for events.
For more information on lycanthropy, turn to page 2. For brief backgrounds of Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, turn to page 3. For a detailed assessment of Albus Dumbledore's management of Hogwarts, turn to page 4. For information on werewolf laws, turn to page 7.
Owls fluttered in through the windows of the Great Hall of Hogwarts School.
James Potter looked up at the sound from Gryffindor table, letting his eyes roll over the great wave of black and brown and grey owls, watching them circle around the room before they found the respective recipients of the mail. The students were laughing and chatting, just like any other day. They didn't know that today was any different.
If it had been a normal day, he and Sirius and Remus and Peter would already be in the Hall, talking loudly over breakfast. Lily, Letha and Evanie would probably be sitting around close by, and Remus’ eyes would be drifting over to Danger every so often if she were there…
No, that wasn't right. If it were a normal morning after the Full Moon, Remus would be in the hospital wing. Depending on the wolf's mood the night before, the other three would either still be sleeping upstairs, in the hospital wing with him, or blearily sitting down at the table and falling asleep in their porridge.
James was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice that the Hall had gone quiet. Only his owl pecking at his hand brought him back into reality, and he blinked as he realised that something was wrong. He looked for Peter and Evanie, who were surreptitiously collecting the bacon and sausages and eggs like he was subtly gathering pieces of toast, and caught Peter's eye.
“What's going on?” he mouthed, since his hands were full of pieces of toast.
Peter shrugged, then indicated James’ owl, which was still pecking at his hands, apparently rather annoyed at being ignored.
James took one look at what the owl carried and groaned.
Dammit. I'd completely forgotten about that… He dumped the toast on the table, in a space between two groups of third and fourth years, untying the cylinder attached to his owl's legs and fishing for a knut in his pocket. He found one just as he unfurled the paper, and was lucky enough that his hand was just above the pouch on his owl's legs anyway, because he almost dropped the paper itself as he caught sight of the headline.
Darn. Shit. Damn. This is bad.
Whispers were starting to fill the hall, as students recovered from the shock and started discussing the article. James looked around frantically.
Remus’ name isn't exactly unknown around Hogwarts—we're the Marauders, of course they'll know him—and they'll know me and Peter as well, and it's only a matter of time before someone makes the connection and soon we'll get swarmed—
He grabbed the pile of toast on the table with one hand, squashing it slightly but not caring, and clutching the newspaper in his other hand he caught Evanie's eye this time, motioning with his eyes and head to get out of the hall, fast. She nodded, nudged Peter, and they put the lids on of the boxes they'd been putting food in. The three of them made their way to the back of the hall, hoping that nobody noticed them among the other students who were now talking with each other, shouting at others across the hall and moving around to debate with those in other houses.
“The newspaper?” Peter asked in an undertone as they made their way to the door.
James nodded glumly and handed the Daily Prophet to Peter, who gave the box of bacon and sausages to Evanie and unfurled the paper. The headline and article shared the front-page space only with a large moving picture of a prowling werewolf, probably designed to look threatening.
Stupid prejudices.
The reached the door and walked out to the Entrance Hall, where James looked around for Lily. He spotted her behind the door with Alicia Davidson, with her back to him.
“Lily?”
Lily whirled around, her face pale and eyes wide. “James!”
“What is it?” James asked worriedly, pushing the toast stack towards Evanie, who was already loaded with boxes. He didn't notice the dirty look she shot at him, while rearranging the piles in her arms and trying not to drop them.
Lily grabbed his arm and hissed in his ear. “We need to talk with Alicia. In private.”
James felt his forehead crease in confusion, but when his girlfriend—fiancée—used that tone of voice, it was best to obey. “Classroom Nine?” he whispered.
Lily nodded distractedly and turned back to Alicia, who was standing by, a mixture of confusion and determination on her face.
What's going on?
James turned back to Peter and Evanie, keeping an eye on Lily and Alicia walking over to the empty classroom.
“Can you take the food back to the passageway?” he muttered. “Lily wants to talk with Alicia, and I think it's kind of important…”
“Okay, sure,” Peter said. “Here, it's your newspaper, I'll help Evanie carry the food…”
“You have a wand,” James said bluntly.
“So I do,” Peter said, “but school rules say we shouldn't cast magic in the hallways.”
James raised an eyebrow.
“If we got special permission though, say, from the Head Boy…”
James groaned. “Whatever. Use a featherweight charm, float it in front of you, I don't care.”
“Sorry,” Evanie said, dumping everything she was holding into Peter's arms instead. “He's in a weird mood.”
“I hadn't noticed,” James said dryly as he watched Evanie charm the food invisible. “Here,” he said, conjuring a few bags. “This way you won't drop it by accident.”
“Thanks.”
“We'll be back soon, I hope. See you in the tunnel.” James hurried off after Lily, while Peter and Evanie made their way up the marble staircase.
He got to Classroom Nine and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Alicia was standing in the middle, now looking slightly nervous, her hands twitching. Lily was standing by the window, looking out, and she hurried over to him when she heard the door close.
“We have a problem,” she repeated, whispering in his ear.
“What is it?” he replied in the same tone, looking warily at Alicia.
“She was looking out of the window.”
“Wha—” James felt his insides vanish as he caught sight of a small glimmer from the lake out of the window that Lily had just moved away from. “How much did she see?” he heard himself asking.
“From Letha rushing out to Sirius waking up.”
“Damn.” James hissed, looking over at the third-year. She returned his gaze, determinedly. “Is she trustworthy?”
“I trust her. But James, her mum works at the Ministry—she told me the other day, she was temporarily transferred over to the RCMC…”
James digested the newest nugget of news slowly, thinking it over.
Okay. Her mother works in the RCMC, at least currently. That potentially means she could have inside information from the Ministry, or she's with the Ministry in their stupid bias against werewolves. She could drop us in with her mother, especially if she saw Wormtail transform out there.
But, if they aren't prejudiced—not common these days, but there are a few people who don't have the ridiculous were-phobia—she could drop a line in her mum's ear, possibly make life easier for Moony, maybe even get us in to see him. It's nice being able to communicate with him through Danger, but it's not the same, not nearly.
Okay, that's a bit of a long shot, but it's possible.
“I say she could either be a blessing or a curse,” he said quietly in Lily's ear. “Do you think we should trust her?”
“I don't know,” she replied uneasily, glancing over at Alicia. “Out of all the possible people to see us, it could have been a lot worse…”
“How do you know nobody else saw us, though,” James interrupted, feeling his stomach disappear again. “The whole tower was awake, kept in their dorms, nothing to do except look out of the window…”
“They would have said something,” Lily said, semi-confidently. “Either sought one of us out, like ’Licia, or trumpeted it to the skies.”
“I guess.” James sighed. “If it really was just her, though, I suppose we are just incredibly lucky.”
“Don't jinx it now,” Lily said. “So what do we do about ’Licia?”
James glanced over at the small brunette again before making a snap decision. “You say you trust her. Let's tell her the whole story and hope for the best.”
“And if it goes wrong?”
“Well. There's always Memory Charms.”
“Don't you dare, James Potter,” Lily warned, before moving away form him towards Alicia. “Okay, sit,” she said, motioning to one of the chairs behind the younger girl while pulling one up for herself and sitting down. “We may as well be comfortable,” she said as James pulled up a seat next to her and sat down.
“You're telling me what happened out there?” Alicia asked incredulously, as she lowered herself into the chair. “I'd’ve thought you would've told me not to worry about it or something.”
“I know you, Alicia,” said Lily. “You wouldn't rest until you figure out a theory behind what you saw.”
The younger girl looked down at her feet, blushing slightly. “Am I that predictable?”
“Probably,” said James. “Anyway,” he carried on hastily after a glare from Lily. “We decided to tell you the true story, which is probably crazier than you could ever think up by yourself.”
“If you say so.” Alicia looked unconvinced.
“James, is that today's newspaper?” Lily asked sharply, finally spotting what he was holding in his hand.
He winced. “Yes,” he said quietly, handing the furled up paper to her.
Lily glanced once at the headline, her eyes widened, and she cast an eye over to Alicia then looked back at James, the question evident in her eyes.
James shook his head imperceptibly. No, she hasn't seen it, not yet…
Lily nodded, and settled back to read. James sighed mentally. I guess that means I'm doing the talking…
“So, Alicia,” he said, looking over at her. “What's your take on werewolves?”
The girl now looked more confused than ever. “Erm, neutral, I guess,” she said hesitantly. “My mum's muggle-born, so she doesn't really know, and I don't think my dad has an opinion…”
James exhaled in relief. Perfect. “What do you think of Remus Lupin?”
“Eh?” Alicia blinked.
Lily threw him a look over the newspaper, which he clearly read as subtle. He shrugged back at her.
“I don't know him that well, but he's a prefect, isn't he?” Alicia said slowly. “And he seems to be a nice person anyway; doesn't he always go and see his mum every month when she gets ill…” Her eyes widened. Apparently she'd just had an epiphany. “He's a werewolf, isn't he?”
“Yes,” James said while Lily nodded approvingly. “What are you thinking?” he asked Alicia with narrowed eyes.
“I'm surprised,” she answered promptly, “though I shouldn't really be, I suppose. I could have worked it out if I'd just noticed it. I'm rather shocked, but…” she trailed off, thinking. “Let's just say I believe in Lily enough to trust her not to go out with a guy who's friends with someone as fierce and scary and mad as the stories say.”
James sniggered mentally. I see why Lily likes her. “True,” he said aloud. “But…” he hesitated. Just how many of their secrets could they trust her with?
“Tell me what you think will satisfy my curiosity,” Alicia told him. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Lily chuckled. “We've always said that you're a pure Gryffindor, James. You always wear your emotions on your face.”
James grumbled, trying to wipe his face clean of emotions, ready to start afresh. “Am I that easy to read?”
“Probably,” Alicia agreed.
Clever, sharp, and a good memory. No getting around this one.
“How's the paper?” he asked Lily now.
“Remus cast to look like the bad villain, just short of using Dark Magic to manage to mingle with ordinary folk for so long. His friendship with Sirius even though he's already been disowned from the ‘Black family, documented as having a Dark side’ completely corrupted out of proportion, you looked over and Peter not mentioned at all. Severus is the innocent unsuspecting victim…”
“Wait,” Alicia interrupted. “I'm missing something.”
“Sorry.” Lily looked chagrined. “The short and sweet of it is, last night was a Full Moon. Sirius got drunk and ‘accidentally’ told Severus how to get into the secure holding place—”
“He stays at Hogwarts on transformation nights?”
“It's safe, believe me,” James said. “It's completely safe, and the wolf would never be able to get to Hogwarts on its own.”
“I'll believe you,” Alicia said, even though her face clearly said only because I have no other choice right now.
“The thing is,” Lily said again, “last night, the wolf smelt a human, and for once, it wasn't barricaded and held back. The results were not good.”
Alicia's breath caught. “Is Snape dead?” she asked.
Lily and James exchanged uneasy glances. “We don't know,” Lily said finally. “He was alive after the attack, but in a bad way…”
The younger girl nodded slightly as she assimilated the new information. “So what's that got to do with—” she stopped herself, eyes suddenly wide open.
James opened his mouth to say something, but Lily laid her hand on his. He turned to face her, and saw her frowning, shaking her head. Wait.
“Sirius Black… He tried to kill himself, didn't he?” Alicia was saying now. “He'd blabbed while drunk, and now he's ruined the lives of both Lupin and Snape…”
James winced.
“Not very tactful or elegant,” Lily said, “but correct in the essentials. I told you she was good.” The last was directed at James.
“Yes, you did, and I can see the proof now.”
Alicia was blushing, and she said quickly, “But how did the attack stop? I thought that a wolf wouldn't stop until its prey was dead or got away, and I can't see Severus Snape outrunning a werewolf.”
Yes, she's good. Damn sharp as well…
Lily turned towards him expectantly. Alicia followed her gaze.
James sighed. “You realise that if I do explain everything to satisfy your curiosity, I'll wind up telling you all my darkest secrets,” he said to Alicia.
“Not before you tell them to me first,” Lily cut in tartly. “Now, explain to the girl.”
“Okay.” Here goes. “Well, Sirius and me noticed something odd about Remus roundabout our second year, and so Peter and the two of us confronted Moony about it, asking if he was a werewolf. He was kind of distraught that we'd figured it out, so we tried to find a way to help him, to pay him back for nearly busting his game. In the end, we twigged that werewolves were only a danger to humans, not animals.”
“And this helps you how?” Alicia asked.
“Animals, Alicia. We wanted to be there for Moony, but we couldn't, not as humans. As animals, however…” James stood up, moved to a space, stretched and rolled his shoulders, before bending forwards.
Tall body, large, horizontal… heavy antlers that feel powerful enough to crash through walls… long and sprightly legs, strong and able to run long distances at high speed…
He heard two gasps: a shocked one from Alicia, and an appreciative one from Lily.
“They became Animagi?” Alicia whispered, stunned.
“Magnificent, isn't he?” Lily's eyes ran up and down, back and forth across his body.
James rolled his eyes and transformed back. “There's only so much complimenting a man can take in a day, ladies,” he said, returning to his chair.
Alicia's eyes were wide. “But…that's so dangerous…so much could go wrong…”
“We figured we'd take the risk. By fifth year, we could accompany Moony in his transformations.” I think I better leave out the ‘roaming around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade in animal form’ part. I don't need her to have a heart attack.
“There's a glint in your eye,” Lily observed to Alicia. “It means, ‘teach me how’.”
The younger girl coloured and looked down.
“I just thought… If they could do it, why can't I try…”
Definitely a miniature Lily in the making. “We'll talk about this later,” he said to her. “But right now, all you need to know is that last night, Sirius came to me, all drunk and proud about sending Snape to the W…the hiding place. I went, got there too late, but fought the wolf off of Sniv…Severus and got them both to safety.”
“You fought a werewolf?”
James laughed internally. I do it every month. He rolled up his sleeves to let her see where Madame Pomfrey had quickly patched him up last night.
“Show off,” Lily murmured to him while Alicia's eyes went yet wider.
“And proud of it.”
“How could I ever question that?” Lily asked wryly as Alicia recovered somewhat.
“Why are you trusting me with this?” she asked sharply. “Even if Lupin being a werewolf is splashed all over the papers, the fact that you three are Animagi is a big secret.”
Lily and James exchanged a glance, then he threw caution to the winds.
“We need a favour,” he said bluntly.
An eyebrow went up. “A favour?”
“We do?” Lily asked.
“Your mother works in the RCMC, doesn't she?” James asked, flashing a Watch me sign in Lily's direction before remembering that she didn't understand Marauder signs yet.
“At the moment, yes,” Alicia said. “Why?”
“You know that Moony—Remus—is in there now?”
“Not until you told me, but I should've worked it out anyway, but carry on?”
James blinked before doing as he as bid. “How much leeway do you have over your mum?” he asked now.
He heard Lily's “Oh” of understanding, and wondered if the girl he was interrogating had caught on yet.
“If I bring her a proposition and reasons behind it, she'll look at it with a fair mind and make a calculated decision.”
That'll be a yes. “You know what I'm going to ask, don't you?”
“I was wondering how long you'd keep asking me these questions.”
“Okay. So, bluntly… can you ask your mum if she'll let Remus have visitors?”
“How many?”
He looked at Lily. She mouthed, “everyone.”
“Seven.”
“I can ask. I'll need pretty good reasons, though.”
“What we've told you isn't enough?”
“It doesn't say exactly why you need to visit him.”
James looked at Lily for help.
“Alicia,” she said. “Think about it. Remus has just been arrested for no reason that he can remember, and if it's ever explained to him, he'll not be happy with Sirius. Sirius deserves to be able to explain and/or apologise face to face with Remus, and Remus deserves to be able to hear him out. We've explained how James, Sirius and Peter went to the lengths of becoming Animagi for Remus. They're incredibly close for a bunch for teenage wizards, and we all know that Hell is being set loose right now. They need some time together.”
Alicia looked slightly doubting, but considering. “And why do you need the other four? I'm guessing it's you, Letha Freeman, Danger Granger and Evanie Mead?”
“Moral support?”
Alicia frowned, but seeing as it was coming from Lily, she let it slide.
“Okay,” said Lily, standing up. “I think this session is winding to a close. Alicia, you get the Daily Prophet, don't you? Read it, but take it with a bucketful of salt. And eat, properly, or I'll call off the next tutoring session.”
“Yes, Lily,” Alicia replied, standing up herself and pushing her chair back where she'd got it from.
“Not a word about this to anyone, remember,” James warned.
“Don't worry, I'm not stupid.”
“I'll have to trust you on that.”
“Speaking of trust…” Lily suddenly got a wicked grin on her face. “Alicia, you know when you said that you trusted me enough not to go out with a guy who's best friends with the monstrous raving beast stories paint werewolves to be?”
Alicia nodded, warily.
“You're wrong.”
“Eh?”
“You said ‘going out with’.” For the second time that day, Lily put her left hand in front of James’, so both rings were on display.
James could feel his face burning as Lily giggled and Alicia's jaw succumbed to gravity again. Quickly, he pulled his arm away and escaped from the classroom before the squealing could start.
What is it with girls and wedding plans the moment anyone says ‘engaged’? he thought as he made his way back to the passageway. Lily was likely to be a while.
Minerva shook open the Daily Prophet and sighed at the inevitable headline story.
“How bad is it?” asked John Lupin from the other side of Remus’ bed.
“Not as bad as it could have been,” Minerva allowed. “It's not taking up the full newspaper.” She gave a mirthless smile. “Just most of it.”
John gave a half-hearted growl of frustration, which trailed off into a sigh. “I guess I should count our blessings, few as they seem right now. At least we have one supporter.” He motioned towards the door that Felicity Davidson had left through a few minutes ago.
“More than just one,” Minerva reminded him bracingly. “There are Remus’ friends at school; I'm sure that they and their families will all stand behind you.”
John raised an eyebrow at her. “Sirius Black's family?”
“The Potters have all but adopted young Mr. Black,” Minerva pointed out. “They, the Pettigrews, and the Meads are sure to be supportive.”
“And Lily and Aletha and Danger are Muggle-born,” John said dully.
“David and Rose Granger live close to you, do they not?” Minerva asked. “Do you know them well?”
“Only by association,” John replied. “I bump into them every now and again…”
“They will support you,” Minerva said firmly. “Even if not in the trial, they will stand behind you and help you wherever they can.”
“I hope so.” John laid his head in his hands, elbows digging into Remus’ mattress. “There's so much to think about now,” he said, the sound coming out muffled. “The trial…lawyers…”
“I will be helping you, John,” she said, using his first name. “I can help you find a good lawyer—pro-werewolf, of course, or at least one neutral enough to put general wizarding prejudice behind him. I have family and family friends who many be sympathetic and know good recommendations.”
“Thank you, Professor,” John said sincerely, lifting his head to look at her.
“It is all I can do, John. Also, you are no longer my student, so you have no need to address me as ‘Professor’ any longer.”
John gave a wry grin. “You'll always be Professor McGonagall to me, Professor…”
“I never thought any different,” she said dryly. “You were one of my first students at Hogwarts, if you'll recall. And quite frankly, I can see where Remus gets it from.”
“You mean the extra studying and essays around twenty inches over what was asked?” he grinned at her.
“And the pink dye all over everybody's Christmas dinner in your fifth year, if I remember correctly.”
John almost laughed out loud. “I knew that you'd figured out it was me—I kept wondering why you didn't call me up for it.”
Minerva raised her eyes to the heavens, a smile gracing her thin lips. “I was young and naïve in those days,” she said with not a small amount of irony in her voice. “I let it pass.”
“Oh, stop it,” John said, managing a quiet, but real laugh. “You're making me feel old, Professor.”
“Now consider how old I feel when I find myself teaching the children of my former students,” she told him. “But returning to my former point; you have long since earned the right to call me by Minerva.”
She chuckled at the sight of John pulling another face at her. “But truthfully, Professor. Calling you anything other than Professor or Professor McGonagall goes against my morals.”
“I shall just have to break you into the habit over time, then,” she said. Immediately she regretted saying that sentence. At the word ‘time’, John had glanced down at his watch and looked back at Remus worriedly. She cursed herself for ruining the light mood she'd managed to build up.
“Time…” John was muttering. “How much time do we have left?” He stretched a hand up towards Remus’ hair, then pulled back quickly, as though afraid of wasting even a second with what he wanted to do. “A week and a half until the trial…that's all the time we have to organize a somewhat coherent defense…” John seemed to crumble again, the small vestiges of laughter erasing themselves from his face.
“You'll have help,” Minerva said again. If I have anything to do with it, anyway.
“What about his education?” John asked distractedly, apparently not having heard her at all. “He's only six months away from taking his NEWTs, how's he going to manage exams while stuck in a cell in Azkaban?”
“Stop,” she said firmly. “He's not going to go to Azkaban.”
“How do you know?”
“Werewolf cells in Azkaban are very few,” said Minerva, trying to remember the policies she had read. “They take up a lot of space and have to be far apart, with multiple layers of walls and doors. There are only a few, and are used purely for multiple offenders. ‘Warning’ imprisonments, as they are called, are kept in cells under St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.”
“I thought that was just a rumour,” John said, surprised. “I didn't think it was actually true…”
“The Ministry didn't think it would be a good idea for the public to know about it,” Minerva explained. “It was predicted that if the knowledge was leaked out, there would be many revolts and protests against the idea. Prejudiced as the government is, they can only recognise that werewolves are counted as human during times other than Full Moon nights, and so deserving of medical care.” She gave another bitter smile. “One of their only—and in their opinion, kindest concessions.”
“I applaud them for it,” John said, lapsing back into dullness. “He'll still be imprisoned.”
Minerva tried to rack her brains for werewolf sentences, but drew a blank. “Have you researched werewolf laws?” she asked John.
“I couldn't bring myself to,” he replied in a monotone.
Minerva nodded. In her experience, family members would either learn all they could possibly get their hands on about the laws, or try to ignore them, only reading up on the first required laws.
“Remus is looking better than I would have expected him to,” she said, by way of breaking the awkward silence that was about to fall.
“He's sleeping.” John looked at Remus. “What was that spell that Felicity Davidson used on him, when she said that he wasn't really asleep?” he asked distractedly.
Minerva shrugged. “It's unlikely that Felicity would get the spell wrong, so I can only think that Remus is subconsciously forcing himself unconscious.”
John nodded, probably not listening to a word she said. “He looks so peaceful.”
“Be thankful,” said Minerva. For the next few days are unlikely to be peaceful at all…
She didn't know how right she was.
An owl fluttered through an open window.
Albus Dumbledore looked up from his steady vigil outside the hospital wing at the tawny owl now perched on the windowsill, and frowned at what it carried.
Surely it is not already breakfast time…my presence will be missed at the staff table.
But, he thought as he untied the Prophet from the owl's leg, there are far more pressing matters to attend to.
Still, though, his mind drifted to the Great Hall of Hogwarts School, as glorious and splendid as it always would be at breakfast times. How he loved sitting in his throne-like chair at the front of the room, and look down at his students. The children would be chattering and carefree, the biggest of their worries being Quidditch and homework. Albus could remember those days clearly himself; all the joy and sprightliness of youth and freedom.
Nothing was more heavy than age and responsibility, he reflected, sitting back down, his body groaning, and staring dispassionately at the furled newspaper in his hand.
Age and responsibility…and he had managed to gain both.
It was not such a good thing, Albus ruefully mused, to have a good a mind as he did. His memory continually provided him with snapshots of when his life was unencumbered, his conscience with steadily longer lists of things to do. And there were times when hard decisions were to be made.
The aforementioned memory of his chose this moment to remind him of a time, seven years ago, when he made a great decision, one that changed the lives of many people. Had the ministry gotten wind of it, he would have been taken straight down from his Headmaster position at Hogwarts, not even that long after he'd ascended to it. But he always believed the best in people, and so Remus Lupin entered Hogwarts.
If he'd had the chance, would he have decided different, he wondered idly, before quashing the thought.
Of course not. You have seen the wonderful change in Remus when he came here, not to mention the changes of Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black. There is no doubt that James Potter, Lily Evans, Aletha Freeman, Evanie Mead and Danger Granger would all be different if Remus never came to Hogwarts, as well as many other people.
But Severus Snape…
Albus loathed the phrase ‘sacrifice the few to save the many,’ but he could see that it was the only way to go about some situations. As long as damage was kept to a minimum…
So, in retrospect, as long as Severus survives, this really isn't as bad as it could possibly have been. There had always been a nagging worry, a little doubt in the back of his head, one of his many thoughts, true especially strong on a Full Moon night. What if his cautions weren't strong enough? What if, somehow, a werewolf would be set loose on a castle full of students, or a village full of people…
“Headmaster?”
Albus’ head jerked upwards at the sound of Poppy Pomfrey's voice, and he laid the still-unopened newspaper down as he stood up.
“How is Severus?” he asked as she shut the hospital wing doors.
“He should be fine,” she replied tiredly but triumphantly, and Albus felt a huge load lift off his shoulders. “I couldn't prevent the lycanthropy—that would have been impossible—and he shall have scars, but I was able to stem and prevent mortal wounds.” She sank into the chair Albus had just vacated, while he closed his eyes and sighed in relief, slowly.
“Thank you, Poppy,” he said sincerely, opening his eyes and smiling down at the woman. “I cannot express my gratitude enough…”
“It's just my job.” Poppy waved him off, looking rather embarrassed. “And haven't you looked at this yet?” She held up the Daily Prophet and looked at him enquiringly. “I'm sure the owl came five minutes or so ago…”
“I was woolgathering, my dear Poppy. An old man's thoughts that would not be coherent nor understandable to you.”
“Don't start making me feel young, Headmaster, we all know that I'm no teenager.”
“Indeed.” Albus chuckled.
Poppy had opened the newspaper, and within seconds her lips had furled in disgust. Mentally, Albus sighed. He had dreaded this day, and hoped it would never come. He could much guess the contents of the paper without even looking, and was completely sure that he would be facing an inquiry of some sort in the near future.
Still, though, he was prepared. He'd been prepared since the day he thought this might happen.
A newspaper being flung down to the floor interrupted his thoughts. “Sensationalist exaggerating spin reporters,” Poppy hissed. “Both of those boys are victims, both of them.”
“Poppy?”
“I apologise, Headmaster. I've become close with Remus the past few years…”
“Completely understandable, my dear.”
“What about their parents?” she asked suddenly. “The Snapes and John Lupin?”
Albus didn't ask how she knew John Lupin now only lived on his own. “Minerva is breaking the news to Mr. Lupin, and Horace is handling the Snapes.”
Poppy winced. “Correct me if I am mistaken, Headmaster, but are the Snapes…well…not a close family?”
“No, Poppy, you are right.” Albus sighed again. “Tobias Snape was less than happy at the revelation of magic, and young Severus has not had an easy childhood.”
“How will he cope, poor thing? Lycanthropy isn't easy to deal with at the best of times, and if his family is unsupportive…”
“We will help him,” Albus told her. “My greatest dread at the moment, on the other hand,” he confided, “is Severus’ reaction himself.”
“I agree,” Poppy said. “So you think he might not take it well?”
Albus shook his head gravely. “I sincerely doubt it. How long before he wakes up?”
Poppy shrugged. “Anything between two and twelve hours. Can't be any more specific than that.”
“Would it be too much hassle to ask you to keep an eye on him and be right there when he wakes?”
Poppy gestured around. “I won't be going anywhere.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“It's not a problem, Headmaster.
Watching from the shadow of a statue based on the corner of the corridor, she saw Dumbledore stride away from her, presumably returning to his office or going to the Great Hall, and Madame Pomfrey bustle back into the hospital wing.
I shouldn't be doing this…I REALLY shouldn't be doing this…
But a small part of her kept telling her that she had to. They might have grown apart, and they might be in social groups, which were forever warring each other…but the fact remained that he had been her best friend. He had been the one to welcome her to the Wizarding World, while she had been the one to comfort him and listen to him when things got rough at home.
She had headed Alicia off not long after they'd been left alone in the classroom, cutting down the amount of squealing and sending her off to eat her breakfast so she could slip off while James still thought she was being heavily involved in wedding plans.
It wasn't a great start to their engagement, Lily reflected ruefully. Other than the arrest of one of their best friends and the impending fight against the rest of the world, she was already keeping secrets away from her fiancé. But James didn't understand her relationship with Severus—he couldn't understand. She honestly loved James with all of her heart, but sometimes he just couldn't see into all of hers.
Shaking herself from her musings and deeming the corridor empty enough, she slithered out from behind the statue and tiptoed her way to the hospital wing door in the shadows. She pushed open the door quietly and slipped inside.
Madame Pomfrey was bustling about, clearing away potion bottles. She looked up as Lily entered the room. “Yes?”
Lily's heart sank. There go my plans of a private, secret talk. “May I speak to—well, see Severus please, Madame Pomfrey?”
“Severus Snape?” The matron frowned. “I'm not sure—”
“I won't be too long,” Lily pressed on quickly. She was certain that time wasn't the most important thing on Madame Pomfrey's mind when she first objected, but she hoped that the nurse would let her through anyway.
Madame Pomfrey's frown became all the more pronounced. After a few moments of looking at Lily up and down and presumably deciding that the Head Girl would keep to her word, she said, “Very well then,” and motioned Lily to one of the beds to her left. “But I warn you, it's not pretty.”
Lily let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and quickly followed Madame Pomfrey behind the curtains of the bed. She quickly stifled a gasp when her eyes laid sight on Severus.
It wasn't as bad as it could have been, Lily supposed. His face wasn't mangled beyond recognition; in fact, it'd barely lost any shape whatsoever. However, there were long and deep scars going across his face, one only narrowly missing his eye. He'd had some hair torn out, and the point of his nose savaged some. He lay still beneath the white sheet; only the slight rise and fall of his chest convincing her that he wasn't some corpse from a horror movie.
“Oh, Severus,” she said quietly, slipping into his bedside chair and dimly registering Madame Pomfrey leaving them silently. She wanted to reach out to him, to hold his hand, but she was afraid of harming him in any way. Instead, she contented herself with just laying her hands on the side of the bed.
“Why?” she whispered finally. “Why did you listen to Sirius when he told you to go down into the tunnel? You know what he thinks about you, and you know what he's like when he's drunk, and hell should you have known not to do anything he says.” She sighed, making sure that she kept her voice well below any level classified as ‘loud’.
“Was it just pride, Sev? Was it you boys and your stupid male ego? There's more to life than pride and getting back at people who pick on you. Sirius dared you go do down, didn't he? And you couldn't bear to let him think that you were weak, because you couldn't dare to do something he told you to do.” Lily sighed. “You boys and your status games are so annoying.”
“Do you remember, Sev, we used to be able to tell each other anything. We were best friends. I always stuck up for you if my friends began talking, and generally…well…bitching about you. On the outside, you might come across as a snide, poor, Dark person, but nobody really knows you. You might call Rosier, Avery and Mulciber your ‘friends’, but they're not, really, are they? The don't know the real you, the you inside.” Lily paused to rearrange Severus’ sheets, taking care not to jostle him.
“Was I the only person you ever let that close to you? You are a really sweet person inside, you know. You try to hide it, by getting angry or making a witty remark, don't you? That you, Sev, that real you was the person who was my best friend. That tough, ambitious mask of yours has always scared me to some extent, even though I understand how you got it and why you need it to survive. It frightened me sometimes, and that mask got stronger and stronger as time went on. That was where Avery and the people came in, isn't it? Ambitiousness, the Dark Arts.”
Lily sighed and ran her fingers through her red hair, fighting the tears attempting to form in her eyes. “And I didn't like that, Sev, not at all. I know the real you, and I know you're still there. But that time, year before last, when you called me a Mudblood in public like that…that just snapped everything into view for me, Sev. You outer mask, the image that had become the front you present to everyone—it had become so strong. Too strong. Your pride, your need to make Avery and Mulciber accept you…it had overcome the you who had told me, so many years ago, that coming from a Muggle family didn't matter. And I couldn't stay friends with you after that. I didn't want to see you transform into someone like Mulciber.
“But you're still there, aren't you? You're still in there. You're not completely gone yet.”
Lily's voice turned pleading. “I know you're a werewolf now, Sev, Think of Rosier and Lestrange, and all their status games. Will they still accept you, all that you are? You hid the inner you from them. You won't be able to hide it now. So please, Sev. Come to me, and James, and Danger. I noticed she's been spending a lot of time with you. We can all help. We all accept you, as you are. You probably don't believe that James does, but if he doesn't, he will, I promise. He's the same as you, with an outer front to present to the rest of the world, and so different inside. Please. Get to know him more. I'll persuade him.” And he'll listen to me. Or else.
“And I know it's the Marauders who got you into this mess. Believe me when I say that Sirius is truly sorry for what he did. He was drunk, he wasn't thinking, but what he did was wrong. I don't deny that. But I can't deny how sorry he is—he tried to drown himself, Sev. He tried to kill himself.” Lily shuddered again as she recalled the events of the last hour.
“And Remus…think of it, Sev. It wasn't his fault at all. He had no idea what was happening at the time, but he's still the one about to be punished by the Ministry.”
Lily sighed again. Why was she trying to convince her old best friend to try and sympathise with his archenemies? It would take a miracle for that to happen.
Add in the fact that he is, in fact, unconscious, and I've got the perfect recipe for a lot of wasted breath.
She glanced at the clock, and decided that it was probably about time she got back to everyone else. James could only be fooled for so long, after all. “I should get going, Sev.” She brushed a clean part of his face gently with her lips, stood up and walked out of the hospital wing.
He was drowning, drowning in a sea of numbness and pain just beyond reach. Sounds burbled into his ears from a great distance, warped, sounding strange, as if from a badly tuned radio.
There was someone talking. A girl. He knew her, he knew her well…but something had happened between them, and they'd split apart…
A feeling resided in his chest whenever he thought of her. It was bitterness. She had been his best, closest friend, but he had wanted her to be more. And he'd try to ‘protect’ her from other people, feeling uncontrollable jealousy whenever she was with anyone else. But every time he'd tried to raise the subject with her, she'd smile—a small, sad smile, and say that she didn't think they were meant for each other that way.
It was a part of why he resented…him so much. He had wanted her, had tried to win her over. He couldn't let that go without doing anything.
And yet, despite all her assurances that she'd never like him anyway, she'd gone and done it…she'd fallen for that bigheaded, arrogant, person.
And he…had been left on his own.
What was it that she was saying? It wasn't reaching his mind properly, but he could still hear some of it. He tried reaching out towards that voice he so loved, but the out-of-reach pain sharpened. He sank once again down in dark oblivion, with words from a soft, feminine voice following him under.
The atmosphere in the tunnel had retained its light-hearted cheerfulness, but Letha couldn't help but feel that it was getting strained. A slight tenseness had formed, with laughter and jokes feeling forced rather than natural.
It was that newspaper article, she reflected in disgust. Evanie and Peter had brought a copy of the Daily Prophet up with breakfast. Letha almost wished that they hadn't—it might be nice to be informed, but sometimes ignorance seemed more attractive. It would definitely have been a marginally better morning if they hadn't had to see what the Daily Prophet was making its readers—or basically the whole wizarding world—think about the situation.
Still, despite the article's glaring prejudices and manipulative phrases, they couldn't help but feel slightly superior. There were so many gaps in the newspaper account that they could fill, so many parts of the story left untold.
Not that they wanted the world to know most of those things, of course, but it definitely made them set apart, for once in the middle of things rather than being spectators.
Now, really and truly, it's us against the world.
And the thought of that, really and truly, was bloody terrifying.
“Hey, Letha?” Evanie's voice broke into her thoughts. “Can you pass the prophecy over here?”
Letha blinked, looking around and seeing the parchment with the prophecy written on it lying about two feet to her left. She picked it up and handed it to Evanie, who had a few pieces of toast in front of her. “Going to try and decipher some more of it?”
“I am.” Evanie took the parchment and smiled at her in thanks. “I always find that I think best over breakfast.”
“Really?” James broke into their conversation. “Breakfast is far too early for me.”
“Any time before mid-afternoon is too early for you,” laughed Lily, who'd just come back in to the tunnel to hear James’ last sentence.
“Back, are you?” James asked, mock-grumpily. “You took your time. What do you girls talk about?”
“Things that you boys would be neither interested nor have the time to hear about. So have you told them about our conversation with ’Licia?”
Only someone very close to Lily and very good at picking up subtle details would have noticed Lily's slightly rushed change of topic. Letha was both, and so did notice; James fulfilled the former requirement but lacked the latter, and, having not noticed a thing, launched into a summation of what he and Lily talked about with Alicia Davidson. Letha, figuring she'd be able to ask Lily about it and whatever it was that was bothering her later, instead sank back into her own thoughts.
Being far more astute and atmosphere-sensitive than usual, Sirius had picked up on the tense underlay beneath the forced lightness in the air and sank back into the corner looking guilty again. Letha sighed inwardly, wishing she knew what to do. On the one hand was the fact that she loved him, even when he was stupid and did stupid things. But there was the undeniable, irrefutable fact that he had gone beyond what she'd thought him capable of—he'd sent a man to his death. He needed to face the consequence of his actions.
But he needs some sort of support. Yes, what he did was wrong, and yes, he needs to learn this lesson, so he thinks things over before he does something. I don't think he's going to touch a bottle of anything the slightest bit alcoholic for a long time now as it is.
He has to realise that not everything's sunshine and bunnies any more. Pulling harmless pranks is one thing—life and death and law is another. Maturing is a part of life, something he has to do on his own.
Though…having to do something on his own doesn't mean he can't have help, or support. Just one encouraging word in his ear can make the world of difference, and holding his hand through difficult times make the self-sorrow hurry past faster and the learning happen quicker.
Not necessarily. Remember, sometimes when he studies, other people explaining to him or trying to help him just don't work, and he only really understands after he reads the textbook properly and thinks it over to himself in his own terms. Getting distracted won't help in the slightest.
But life ISN'T a textbook, and besides, he always does better in Potions after I explained it to him.
How are you sure that he was concentrating on the work rather than the explainer?
…and why am I referring to myself in the second person?
Letha sighed to herself and glanced over at Sirius again. He seemed utterly woebegone, looking guilty and lost.
She thought back to the scene in the dungeons, when she'd slapped him and yelled at him, and winced at some of the things she'd said to him. She blamed herself partly for his little swim—hell, it was probably all her fault if it wasn't for Sirius taking her literally—and she could admit to herself that many of the things she said, as always when she was angry, weren't rational. She was angry with what he'd done, but while it couldn't be completely blamed on the Firewhiskey, she'd heard that he'd had enough last night to completely blur and almost erase his judgement.
And the consequences that had followed… They were too big, far too big to be handled on his own. Snape had nearly died, and there was less than a fortnight until Remus’ trial. They all needed all the help and support they could get.
He huddled in the corner, watching them all chatting and laughing, all of them aware that the others were forcing it but each of them trying to make the façade go on for as long as possible.
He didn't know why they bothered, really.
He'd seen the Daily Prophet article. He'd seen what everyone was saying, what was going to happen. The enormity of what it was that he'd done—that he'd done—was pressing down heavily all around him. It tainted every breath that he breathed, and weighed down his limbs more than mere exhaustion could.
How did those people whose names appear in the paper so often handle it? he thought. How do they make one small action, and then take it in their stride after seeing it splashed all over the media and watching the world react? Don't they ever feel overwhelmed, and terrified?
It certainly summed up what he was feeling right now. Overwhelmed, and absolutely bloody terrified.
Terrified of what had happened, terrified of what was going to happen…terrified of himself, of what he'd been able to do. Terrified of his friends, and what they thought of him now.
He lifted his head to look at Prongs, who was giving a slightly too spirited report of a meeting they'd had with a third year who'd almost sussed them out. Prongs…his closest friend, the nearest thing to a brother he had. His partner in crime, co-ring-leader, the other part of their two of a kind.
James, who had called him a traitor, who'd accused him—rightfully—of betraying their trust and of being an unthinking, drunk idiot. Who'd hit him and hadn't been able to properly look him in the eye since.
Sitting close next to Evanie and listening attentively while still managing to eat his breakfast properly was Wormtail. Little, chubby Wormtail who'd always blundered through everything and never got anything right, all but hero-worshipping the two of them who were able to protect him. He was their little brother, who they despaired of sometimes but were always around for him, to help, whether with work or when he was being bullied. They'd all celebrated when he found a girlfriend, and watched him blossom into the more confident, cheerful and generally Marauder-like young man he was at last.
So what did Peter think of him now, with his newly found ability to have an opinion and hold it? Was he angry as well? Did he hate him now? Was he a traitor, a drunk and a complete idiot in Peter's eyes as well?
And Moony. The most down-to-earth and practical of the lot of them. Moony loved his pranks just as much as any other of them, but he'd had caution drummed into his nature. Risks, for him, had to be kept to a minimum. He'd tell them to be careful, and to deflate their heads, and to an extent, it worked.
He'd trusted them with his darkest secret, trusted them not to tell.
And now Remus was stuck at the Ministry, facing a trial in nine days, because he'd been stupid enough to ruin everything. Remus said that he forgave him, but did he really, deep down? Was it just that he thought he was in too deep to be angry? Maybe it was only because of some poem in iambic tetrameter that he'd said the meaningless words.
A small movement startled him at his side, and he turned around to see Aletha sitting down next to him tentatively. He looked at her in surprise, and she responded by shuffling closer and holding his hand. When he continued to blink at her, her fingers squeezed reassuringly, and she offered a quiet smile.
He had no idea why Letha was doing this, but was glad she did.
A small, warm seed of hope and resilience dropped back into Sirius Black's chest, sparking off the start of the fight against the world.
Review? Purdy please?