A huge black dog was growling at Severus, its hackles raised. Despite its mangy appearance, Severus was sure it would be more than capable of causing serious harm should it attack. He resisted the desperate urge to step backwards, trying to keep his wand hand from shaking. Pathetic as he knew it was, his encounter with the transformed Lupin back in his schooldays had left him with something of a phobia of anything remotely canine.

“Nice dog?” he tried feebly.

It snarled at him.

All right, not a nice dog. Severus stumbled backwards. The dog didn’t advance, but didn’t show any signs of letting him go either.

Get a grip, Severus told himself severely. It was only a dog. He was a wizard for crying out loud. And the longer he stood here, waiting for the beast to lunge instead of just Stunning it, the longer Potter was out there on his own for.

Severus took a deep breath, and aimed his wand. “Stu—”

The dog lunged before he could finish the spell. Severus fell to the ground with an undignified scream, flashbacks of the werewolf bearing down on him blinding him to what was actually happening. After a moment, he realised the dog hadn’t attacked him—it had simply torn his wand from his hand and was now clutching it in its teeth.

Severus sat up shakily, relieved that no-one had witnessed that moment, and his eyes narrowed as they fell on the dog. No-one stole his wand and got away with it. “Give that back,” he commanded sharply, his fear ebbing away in his anger.

Fully-grown men quavered under lesser threats, but the dog simply glared at him, its expression almost human. Severus scowled further and got to his feet. “Spit it out, you mangy mutt. I don’t have time for this! I’ve got a Potter to save!”

The dog’s mouth fell open, and Severus’ wand fell out. He stepped forward and snatched it up. “That’s more like it. Hinder me again and you’ll end up as potions ingredients.” He was wiping the dog’s saliva off his wand when a thought occurred to him, and he paused.

The dog was watching him intently, head cocked, almost as if it was thinking hard. Severus wondered if the dog would be able to help track Potter—but he didn’t have anything of Potter’s for it to get the scent of. Unless he Summoned something from Gryffindor Tower?

He was deliberating when he remembered something else, and looked down. Yes, some of those footprints were definitely human. And the spell flash …

“Has Potter been here?” he blurted out stupidly. “I mean—a young vampire; teenage boy?” Why he was addressing the dog, he didn’t know. “Someone’s been here. Was it him? I have to find him, his life’s in danger!” Maybe Severus had finally cracked, but some strange instinct was telling him the dog could help, though he had no idea how.

The dog barked, and ran around the tree. Puzzled and curious, Severus followed. It scrabbled at the roots, pulling away a load of frozen greenery, revealing a hole just big enough for it or a small person to crawl through.

Severus lit his wand, and his heart stopped as the light fell across a face. Potter was lying in a cramped hollow beneath the roots, deathly still and pale. A number of dead animals were lying around him.

“Potter!”

There was no response. The dog whined. Severus crawled inside. Potter was in a terrible state. He was skeletal, white as a sheet, and barely breathing. A diagnostic spell confirmed that he was almost dead.

He pulled a bottle of blood from his robes and uncorked it, then lifted Potter’s head slightly to tip it down his throat. It took several long moments for Potter to respond, but when the blood in his mouth seemed to register, he latched onto the bottle and began guzzling like an infant with milk.

When the bottle was empty, Potter was still unconscious, but his breathing sounded a lot better. Severus figured the priority now had to be to get him to the Hospital Wing. With the dog’s help, he managed to drag/push Potter out of the hollow and crawl out himself.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered who had cast the spell, since Potter was clearly in no state to have done so. But he focused on the important task, which was getting Potter to safety, and paid the question no heed as he shot green sparks up into the air, then gathered Potter in his arms.

-

An hour ago, Sirius would never have believed he would leave Harry’s fate in the hands of Snivellus Snape.

Not that he completely trusted him with his godson. Oh, no. Sirius insisted on walking with them out of the Forest. Snape didn’t seem to think anything of this. But Sirius had been hoping—had planned—for Albus to be the one to find Harry, or at least someone else on Sirius’ list of trusted allies. Snape was most definitely not one of them.

Why Snape was searching the Forest, Sirius didn’t know. But Snape had made it clear that he knew Harry was a vampire already and, for some bizarre reason, appeared to actually want to save him. Sirius could think of no reason for someone on their own to act in front of a dog, so he had to take Snape’s words as genuine.

They followed the green trail, the green sparks hovering above their heads, moving as they moved. It wasn’t long until they were no longer alone.

“HARRY!”

Sirius—and by the look of things, Snape—jumped as a voice shouted from behind them, and a boy about Harry’s age burst out of some trees. After a moment, Sirius recognised him as the boy from the photo—the one who had had Peter on his shoulder. Ron, according to Harry. He was quickly followed by Albus Dumbledore, Crookshanks trotting along beside the Headmaster.

“Oh Merlin—h-he’s not—”

“He’s alive,” Snape said quickly, addressing both Ron and Albus. “But very weak. We need to get him to the Hospital Wing immediately.”

Sirius heard other footsteps hurrying closer, and decided it was time for him to leave. Now Albus was there, Sirius trusted Harry would be safe. He had to make his departure if he didn’t want to be caught. If Remus saw Sirius, it was game over.

-

Hermione had been pacing the common room for hours. She was wrapped up in anxieties about Harry. She was confused and hurt by Ron shutting her out. She didn’t have a clue what was going on, and she really didn’t like it. She wasn’t used to not knowing things.

There had been no sign of Harry. She routinely asked her Housemates if they had seen him, but nobody had.

Everyone had gone to bed by the time the portrait hole opened, and Ron tumbled haphazardly in.

Hermione’s heart hammered, hope turning to dread when she saw the look on his face. Ron was a sickly white, and looked like he was about to cry.

A million questions occurred to her, but Hermione couldn’t get any of them out. Ron stumbled over to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Ron?” she half-whispered after a moment of silence. “You’re scaring me.”

“We found him,” Ron said in a hoarse voice.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s alive. But—”

“But what?”

“H-he’s not doing too good.” They pulled apart. “He’s in the Hospital Wing now. Again.”

“No surprise there. Ron, what happened? Where was he?”

“Th-the Forest.” Ron sat down shakily. “Snape found him. If he’d got there much later … M-Madam Pomfrey said it w-would’ve been too late.”

“Too late?” Hermione whispered. “You mean …”

Ron buried his head in his hands. “This is all my fault. I’m the worst friend in the world.”

“Of course you’re not—”

“Don’t try and make me feel better,” Ron said hollowly. “You weren’t there, Hermione. You didn’t hear the things I said to him. If he’d—if he’d—I’d have good as k-killed him.”

Hermione sat down beside Ron and put her arms around him. Despite saying he didn’t want comforting, he didn’t fight her off, instead slumping onto her shoulder and allowing a few choked sobs to escape.

-

“You’re still here?”

Severus scowled at Lupin, who had just materialised in the Hospital Wing doorway. “What’s it to do with you?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondered why you were still hanging around. It is after midnight, and none of your students are here tonight.” A small smile was playing on Lupin’s lips, giving away the fact that he knew exactly why Severus was there—or rather who he was there for.

“I don’t believe my reasons are any of your concern,” Severus said stiffly. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“I simply couldn’t sleep and decided to check on Harry.”

“Hmph.”

“How is he?”

Severus quietly drew back the curtains around Potter’s bed. The boy still looked dreadfully pale and drawn, but he was deeply asleep and looked much more peaceful. His devoted Head of House was asleep in the chair next to the bed, her head resting on his bedside table. Severus hoped he never looked that undignified when he fell asleep in here watching a student.

“Where’s Albus?” Lupin whispered.

“Where do you think? Tracking down an alternative source of blood for him.” Severus carefully pulled the curtains closed again. “It’s been a long time since we last had a vampire in the school; we weren’t prepared.”

“Mm.” Lupin paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. After a moment he turned a critical gaze on Severus. “What did you do?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can understand you joining in with the search, even wanting to wait here until Poppy said he would be all right. But I fail to see why you, with all your intense dislike of Harry, insist on remaining here all night when his own Head of House is perfectly capable and willing to stay with him. Unless it’s the act of a guilty conscience.”

Severus scowled, even as he inwardly squirmed.

“If it helps, I feel bad that I didn’t see the signs earlier. I am the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher after all. If anyone should have—”

“If anyone should have seen the signs, it was me.” Severus couldn’t keep quiet any longer. He would much rather have confessed everything to Albus, but in the absence of the man, his conscience seemed to think Lupin was a good substitute—proof that this whole business had finally sent him off his rocker. “But I ignored them, and nearly killed him with that bloody leash. Happy now?”

“Leash?” Lupin said with a frown. “What leash?”