����������� Through the dark, silent halls of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter, a third-year student, walked aimlessly as he tried to relax enough to fall asleep when he returned to his dormitory. Sometimes, a brisk walk in the cold castle tired Harry out, but after waking up from a nightmare of the Grim dog chasing him through the Forbidden Forest, he was struggling to calm his mind enough to fall back to sleep. Perhaps he could talk to one of his professors.

����������� Of course, there was only one professor he could trust to go to at this time of night and face minimal punishment, a detention of writing lines maybe. Professor Remus Lupin was a new professor to the school, but so far, he was Harry�s favorite and the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher the school ever had. And come to find out, Remus had also been a friend of Harry�s deceased parents, mainly his father, and they spent many evenings discussing Remus�s school days with James Potter over a spot of tea. It always brought a smile to Harry�s face, and he was sure it would help him get over his silly nightmare tonight.

����������� No, he shouldn�t be wandering the castle on a chilly January night�especially with a murderer out for his blood�and he�d probably get a brief tongue lashing from Remus when he knocked on his office door at first, but Remus always calmed down quickly and knew just what to say to make everything right again. It would be fine; he was sure of it.

����������� Harry pulled out his wand and the Marauder�s Map, a map of the entire school that revealed everyone�s current location. He cast lumos, and a gentle light illuminated the map for him, and he studied everyone�s position. Remus was in his quarters attached to his office, which was perfect for Harry. However, Mr. Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, was lurking the hallways, and he was walking down the same hallway as Harry was.

����������� Harry flicked his wand, cancelling the charm to surround himself in darkness once more. He didn�t have his invisibility cloak with him tonight, so he would have to move quickly and get out of sight before Filch could catch up to him.

����������� Shoving the map in his pocket, Harry walked a bit faster, heading directly for Lupin�s office door. Another turn down a hall and down one flight of stairs brought him to the office door he needed, and he knocked on the door firmly. He could hear Filch�s steps behind him picking up pace, and he knocked loudly once more, cursing silently. He was not getting caught by Filch tonight. Maybe Remus was a heavy sleeper, and that was why he wasn�t answering the door. He was sure Remus wouldn�t mind if he broke into his office. At least, after he explained why he broke in.

����������� Harry raised his wand and tapped the doorknob.

����������� �Alohomora,� Harry whispered.

����������� The door did not unlock.

����������� �Alohomora!� Harry hissed through his teeth. The door still didn�t click open. What kind of locking spell did Remus keep on his door? Figures, he was trying to break into the teacher�s office whose job was defense.

����������� Filch was practically running down the hall now, and Harry desperately threw every bit of energy he had into his next try.
����������� �Alohomora!� he shouted.

����������� Several sparks shot off the doorknob before the door creaked open with a reluctant groan. Harry ran inside and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it manually from the inside. He leaned against it and waited as the footsteps paused outside.

����������� He heard Filch mumble about hearing someone, then the doorknob rattled, and Harry held his breath. After a few seconds, the doorknob went still and Filch began walking down the hall and away from the office door, his boots clicking on the ground.

����������� Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

����������� He was sure he would be in trouble with Remus, but far less so than if Filch had caught him.

����������� Turning to face the office, Harry smiled at the bookshelves of fascinating objects around him. Usually, there was a dark creature in a cage or a tank sitting on the shelves or near the massive mahogany desk that took up the center of the room. Surprisingly, there were no creatures to be seen anywhere. Harry frowned at a tipped over goblet sitting on the desk. The contents of the goblet were spilled over a stack of parchment that was scattered haphazardly across the desk, as if someone had been in a hurry to grab the goblet and knocked it over. Harry stepped closer, touching the fraying ends of the parchment.

����������� A noise caught Harry�s attention in the adjacent room. The door was slightly ajar, and a muffled grunting and ripping sound came from within the confines.

����������� �Remus?� Harry called out as he slowly moved toward the door. �Are you okay?�

����������� Harry tapped the door, causing it to swing open the slightest on its own, but it was enough to see what was happening in the room.

����������� There was stuffing and splintered wood everywhere from the ruins of furniture, tables and walls included. The chair looked like it had exploded as there was nothing left of the back support, only a shredded seat with destroyed arms. The dining table was broken into three parts and every end was chewed up, along with the two dining chairs. The walls had scratches and holes everywhere, and many smaller items were knocked over. A glass coffee table had been flipped, and the glass top part was shattered.

����������� And currently, a large, thin wolf was tearing the couch to tiny bits, its thick black claws ripping at the cushions while white fangs bit into the lining, tearing large chunks out.

����������� Harry gasped, taking a step back.

����������� The wolf dropped the fuzz in its mouth and turned yellow eyes on Harry, sniffing the air.

����������� It leaped for him, and Harry dropped to the ground and rolled away as the wolf landed inches away from him, the door slamming open, creating a shield between Harry and the wolf. It snarled as it sniffed the air.

����������� Harry quickly crawled to the nearest shelter he had�the desk. He squeezed himself under it and hugged his knees to his chest, his heart racing and his breaths heavy, but he forced himself to close his mouth and breath slowly through his nose to avoid making any noise.

����������� Unfortunately, the wolf had pushed him in the opposite direction of the exit, and he was now trapped in the office with a mad werewolf. Harry put a hand over his mouth to really muffle his sounds as he heard the wolf snuffing and grunting while stalking through the office on four lanky but strong looking limbs. Where on earth had the wolf come from? Was it something Remus had captured for their next lesson, and it escaped? Or worse�was the wolf Remus?

����������� Harry flinched as he heard the desk crunch a bit, parchment fluttering down in front of him. He froze, his eyes widening as he realized the wolf was leaning over the desk, its front paws digging into the wood as it turned its head this way and that, its nose twitching.

����������� The wolf pulled back and dropped down to all fours once more, its tail knocking the goblet off the desk.

����������� The clang the goblet made was sharp and echoed in the room, and Harry jumped, especially as the wolf spun around and attacked the goblet with a loud snarl, thrashing its head as it crunched the goblet in its jaws. As it was preoccupied with the goblet, Harry carefully crawled out from under the desk and moved to the side the wolf was not on, and from this angle he could see the office door.

����������� All he had to do was make a run for it, and he would be free.

����������� Harry was about to move when the room fell silent, and he froze, unsure what that meant.

����������� A moment passed when he heard low growling, and he glanced to his left to see the snout of the wolf inching further and further forward from behind the desk, the black nose sniffing intently.

����������� It was right next to him, all it had to do was look around the side of the desk and it would have him. Feeling a shiver down his back, Harry made a quick decision of back crawling away as fast as he could, back into the cubby under the desk. It was just in time as well, as the wolf shot forward and snapped at the empty space on the side of the desk. It sniffed the area, then huffed as it looked around the room, letting out a small howl before trotting through the office space.

����������� Harry peeked out from under the desk, then crawled toward the side to see where the wolf was. There was a clear path to the office door, all Harry had to do was run for it. It was his only chance of getting out. There was no way he would survive all night with a werewolf in close proximity. Harry crawled a bit more around the desk, looking every which way for the wolf. He swore he had just seen it a second ago sniffing the bookshelves, but it wasn�t there now. There was still a clear path to the door.

����������� He had to take his chance.

����������� Harry jumped to his feet and ran for the door, grabbing the knob and turning it.

����������� It did not open.

����������� Cursing himself for forgetting he had manually locked it, Harry undid the lock, then fell backward to the ground as the wolf slammed itself into the door in an attempt to grab Harry.

����������� Once again, the wolf blocked the door as it turned after Harry, its yellow eyes locked on the fallen child wo was back crawling away, and it stalked its prey with ears pinned down and canines flashing.

����������� Harry reached for his wand and pointed it at the wolf, trying to think of the best spell to use against it.

����������� �Stupefy!� Harry shouted just as the wolf pounced for him.

����������� The spell hit the wolf, knocking it back a few feet, and it landed on all four feet in an upright position, though it was still.

Harry backed away and sat up some as he stared at the wolf, unsure if it was stunned or not.

Then the wolf shook itself out before glaring at Harry, teeth bared.

����������� Harry�s jaw dropped. The spell hadn�t had the full intended effect against the werewolf. And now he had succeeded in making it angrier. He vaguely recalled Snape�s impromptu lesson on werewolves a couple months back but he had not done the homework yet when Remus decided no one had to complete it in the next lesson, much to Hermione�s disappointment. What was something that worked against wolves? What had Snape said?

����������� The wolf made a strange half-bark-growl noise as it ran for Harry, who jumped to his feet and ran around the desk, sliding to a halt as the wolf jumped on the desk and tried to bite him as he passed, forcing Harry to retreat the other way.

����������� He ran straight for the door, but just as he reached the knob, he felt sharp teeth sink into his shoulder, and he screamed as he was yanked to the ground and dragged away from the door.

The wolf thrashed its head, jerking Harry around on the floor as he struggled to whack at the wolf with his fists, kicking futilely in its grasp. Harry cried from the pain as the wolf bit down harder, and tears streamed down his cheek while trickles of blood dripping from his shoulder.

����������� Releasing his shoulder, the wolf stepped over Harry, pinning him to the floor with a massive paw, eyes darting between Harry�s neck and head like it was deciding which would be a swifter kill. Harry stared up at the wolf with glassy eyes, his shoulder throbbing, but despite it, he raised his hand just enough to point his wand at the wolf.

����������� �Expelliarmus!� Harry screamed.

����������� The wolf flew and smashed into the wall on the other side of the room, and it slid to the ground, momentarily dazed.

����������� Despite the pain, Harry jumped to his feet and ran for the door, opening it and slamming it shut behind him just as the wolf jumped for the door. Harry cast a locking charm on the door as the wolf snarled, howled, and screamed from within, the noises so loud he was sure the rest of the school was hearing it. Harry slowly slid to the ground, hugging his knees once more, the yells and shrieks of the wolf loud in his ears as he felt every scratch and thump on the door. Hogwarts was known for episodes of haunting sounds, but being right at the source, it was terrifying and disconcerting.

����������� Harry sobbed, hiding his face in his knees. He had never been so afraid in his life, not even the times he had faced Voldemort on the back of Quirrell�s head or even the basilisk in the chamber. This topped everything. And for someone he trusted to be the monster to do this . . . He didn�t understand how werewolves worked, but from his understanding, they did not often remember what they did in wolf form. Which made this even worse.

����������� And bites transformed the curse.

����������� Harry�s shoulder was swelling up and ached furiously. He was going to turn into a beast now. Like Remus was. And that thought terrified him.

����������� But who could he tell? If Remus didn�t remember tonight, and Harry exposed him, Remus would never forgive himself. And he would be sacked for sure. Harry couldn�t ruin the man�s life after everything he fought for to get to this point.

����������� And what of himself? Would they lock him up somewhere�away from the other students? Would he be expelled for being out after curfew? This was all his fault after all, Remus could hardly be to blame. His door had been locked and everything. Harry had just been a reckless, foolish imbecile as Snape would say. The headmaster might force him to leave the school, and it wasn�t like he could go back to the Dursleys like this. They had no protection against creatures like him.

����������� All Harry felt was fear. Fear for the unknown life ahead of him, and fear for the monster he would soon become.

����������� No, no one could find out about what happened tonight.

����������� For Remus�s sake.

����������� And for his own sake.

����������� ����

����������� �

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Harry managed to stumble on his way to a nearby classroom. He ran into the edges of a few tables, bruising his hips, then he tripped and fell over a chair, nearly striking his jaw against the hard floor. His teeth caught his lip when he jerked his head to avoid it hitting the ground, and he tasted blood in his mouth. Pushing to his feet, Harry forced himself to stagger over to the shelves in the storage closet in the back of the classroom.

����������� He threw things off the shelves in his search for supplies. He found a few old vials with smeared names on the labels, but Harry threw all caution to the wind that they were pain relievers and drank them down. One reminded him of the taste of a minty Pepper-Up while the other was simply repulsive, but some of the pain in his shoulder subsided the slightest, reducing the bite wound to a dull ache rather than sharp stabbing jolts. Harry shuffled through more supplies in the closet, knocking more things off before he found bandage material and a jar of dittany salve. The jar was old and covered in dust, but Harry was hopeful it still contained some healing properties.

����������� With zombie-like movements, Harry made his way over to a chair and set the bandage material and salve down on the desk. He pulled off his robe and removed his pajama shirt, exposing the wound.

����������� There were four deep punctures in his shoulder that turned into jagged cuts from the way the werewolf had dragged him. It wasn�t bleeding like it was moments earlier, but it was very swollen and red. Harry scooped up a generous amount of the dittany salve and gingerly applied it to the wound, hissing as he did so.

����������� The salve had a cooling effect, and Harry let out a small sigh of relief as the inflammation went down a bit, and he rolled his shoulder a couple times. With the practiced ease he learned while living with the Dursleys, Harry wrapped his shoulder with the bandage material, making sure to apply enough pressure to reduce the swelling but not enough to cut off blood flow. When his arm was wrapped, Harry leaned over the desk and rested his head in his arms, fighting back more tears. Minutes later, he fell asleep from the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion of the night.

 

����������� �He was crying up a storm last night,� Severus snapped at Albus as he paced back and forth in front of the headmaster�s desk, his long black robes flowing behind him while his hair flicked with every agitated turn of the potion professor�s head. �Howling and screaming�he clearly forgot to take his potion. And what�s worse, the students heard him. They�re all talking about what could have possibly been causing the noise. All the what-ifs they�re coming up with . . .�

����������� �He was contained in his rooms, Severus,� Albus said tiredly. �Even if he had missed his potion, he was unable to leave his rooms. His door is always spelled lock with extraordinary runes and spells that would require quite a gifted wizard to break through.�

����������� Before Severus could reprimand Albus for foolishly hiring a werewolf some more, there was a quite knock on the door before it opened, revealing Remus Lupin. Remus�s hair was sticking up every which way and his robes were disheveled. His brown eyes still had yellow flecks in them, and he seemed a bit unsteady on his feet as he stumbled into the headmaster�s office, accidentally slamming the door behind himself. Remus winced at the noise before he collapsed in front of the headmaster�s desk.

����������� �I bit someone,� Remus whispered.

����������� There was silence in the room. Severus�s eyes widened and he felt anger swell in his chest. He glanced at Albus, who was still sitting behind his desk, his eyes on Remus, but the older wizard�s eyes had crinkled with concern.

����������� �You must be mistaken,� Albus said. �No one could have gotten through the wards set on your office.�

����������� �But someone did,� Remus insisted in a louder voice. He slowly stood up, gesturing wildly to his face. �I can smell it. All over me, my office, my desk. There was blood on the floor that wasn�t mine. I�ve bitten someone.�

����������� Albus paled considerably while Severus pointed his wand at Remus.

����������� �I knew this was a terrible idea,� Severus snarled. �You forgot your potion, didn�t you? All it takes is one missed dose and what do you get? A savage uncontrollable beast. Once again, you were mistaken for putting your trust in the likes of him, Albus. Look at what�s happened now. A student could very well have been devoured.� �������

����������� �No,� Remus was quick to say, shaking his head and closing his eyes. �I would know. Whoever it was escaped.�

����������� �And for all we know, they may have suffered a severe scratch,� Albus said almost hopefully. �We must search the school for the injured party and set things straight. We need to see what the extent of the injury is and take the necessary precautions to keep this individual safe.�

����������� �If they have not bled to death somewhere,� Severus snapped, glaring at Remus, his wand still on the werewolf.

����������� �We must alert Poppy,� Albus said. �We will search the school first, and if we need to, perhaps we�ll arrange for a mandatory health check on all the students.�

����������� �I will stay to assist in finding this person,� Remus said, �for I owe them an apology, though no words will take back the suffering I�ve now caused them. At this time, I would like to hand in my resignation, effective immediately. I cannot take the risk of this happening ever again. Severus is right, it is too dangerous for me to be in a school full of children. I was foolish to forget my potion till the last minute, then in my rush to take it, I knocked it over. I cannot be trusted to stick to the regimen of the Wolfsbane, I clearly cannot be trusted to remain in this school either.�

����������� �He should leave immediately,� Severus said. �I dare say he�s caused enough damage.�

����������� �Severus,� Albus said, �please lower your wand. Remus is no threat at this time.�

����������� �I beg to differ. The effects of the full moon could still be felt at this early hour. He could act out in a fit of rage any minute.�

����������� �Highly unlikely, now lower your wand, Severus. We have a lot of work to do, and Remus can be of help. He�ll be able to sense who had been recently turned if anyone has.� Albus waited for Severus to lower his wand and pocket it away, though the surly professor did not stop glaring at Remus in the slightest. Albus continued, looking at Remus. �Are you sure you want to resign, Remus? We are not even sure of the circumstances that led to whatever happened last night.�

����������� �I can�t stay after this!� Remus nearly jumped back away from the desk. �My worst fears have come true, Albus. I will not stay here and risk it happening again, I . . . I just can�t. Do not force this upon me. I will do anything I can to make up for my sins, but not that.�

����������� �We learn from our mistakes. This is a preventable��

����������� "Nothing is preventable!" Remus yelled, slamming a hand down on the headmaster's desk before backing away once more, taking deep breaths. "No. We tried, it failed. I have to leave. I deserve Azkaban for this. It's the least I deserve."

"He's not wrong, Albus," Severus said. "We have tried all we can do to keep the students safe. It failed. It would be foolhardy to keep trying at the expense of the students' wellbeing. And if word gets out? You would be terminated from your post for allowing this. I can only pray whoever you turned is not a pureblood Slytherin. This school be shut down. Not to mention, though not entirely unfortunate, hunters from all over would be after your head, Lupin. Perhaps Azkaban would be a far better place to keep the likes of you."

Albus held up a hand to stop Severus's rant. He was silent for a moment before he sighed and gave a reluctant nod of his head.

"I respect your wishes, Remus. After we find who you injured in your werewolf state, pending any charges a parent may wish to bring up, you are free to leave. I will not call any authorities on you myself, however. This was an accident, after all. We will search for a replacement professor immediately. Between the two of you, and Poppy, we will keep the matter quiet until the student has been found. We cannot risk injury befalling whoever this is should word get out to the students or worse, parents. We need to know what exactly happened and with whom before anymore statements, if any, are made."

����������� Severus crossed his arms and glared at the headmaster and Remus interchangeably.

 

����������� Harry yawned as he shuffled over to the Gryffindor table where his friends were finishing up with their breakfast. He glanced at the head table and immediately noticed that Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, and the headmaster were missing. He didn�t think much on it though as he dropped down heavily into a seat across from Ron and Hermione.

����������� �Bloody hell, Harry,� Ron said over a mouthful of eggs, �you look awful.�

����������� �Are you feeling okay?� Hermione asked, leaning over the table to peer into Harry�s eyes. �Your eyes are bloodshot and sunken in.�

����������� Hermione reached over the table and tried to place her hand on Harry�s forehead, but Harry jerked his head away. Hermione pulled back with a frown.

����������� �I�m fine,� Harry said. �I didn�t sleep well last night.�

����������� �Where were you?� Ron asked. �You weren�t in your bed this morning. We thought you came down to breakfast early, but you weren�t here either.�

����������� �I was . . . in the infirmary. I had a headache and needed something to relieve it.� The lie rolled off Harry�s tongue easier as he thought up a plausible story. �And then Madam Pomfrey wouldn�t let me leave since it was so late at night.�

����������� �You should have alerted Professor McGonagall,� Hermione chastised. �She�s our Head of House, she takes care of things like that. She probably had headache reliever in her office. And she�s closer.� ��������

����������� �I didn�t want to bother her. And you know I like night strolls through the castle. It helps me sleep better.�

����������� �You need to stop doing that before it gets you in trouble.�

����������� �Ease up, Hermione,� Ron said. �He had a rough night.�

����������� Hermione huffed and returned to her breakfast, sparing one last concerned glance in Harry�s direction.

����������� Harry didn�t bother with breakfast. His stomach was queasy and flipping at the sight of all the greasy food laid out, and he was starting to regret having come to breakfast at all. Besides that, every muscle ached in his body, and his head still felt very heavy on his shoulders, which were throbbing painfully in unison as if both had been bitten and not just his right. His right shoulder still had some swelling, and the bite wound was oozing through the fresh bandages Harry had put on before leaving the abandoned classroom that morning. He tried to ignore the dampness while struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open.

����������� �Aren�t you going to eat breakfast?� Ron asked. �We have classes in twenty minutes.�

����������� �I�m really not that hungry,� Harry said.

����������� �Are you sure you feel all right?� Hermione asked. �Maybe you should go back to Madam Pomfrey.�

����������� �It might just be side effects of the potion I took. And lack of sleep. I�ll be okay.�

����������� Hermione did not look convinced and even Ron shared a concerned look with her.

����������� �Did you guys hear the screams last night?� Seamus asked at the other end of the table where he was seated next to a few other classmates. �Some of the sixth years said it sounded like a banshee moved in, but I think it sounded more like a beastly monster trying to break into the school.�

����������� Harry felt a shiver down his back as his ears suddenly seemed to pick up every whisper and rumor.

����������� �The ghouls must have thrown a party last night.�

����������� �I bet it was Moaning Myrtle. She�s such a nuisance.�

����������� �Did you hear the shrieks? It�s like the Shrieking Shack�s come alive again.�

����������� �Did you hear . . .?�

����������� �Did you hear . . .?�

����������� �Did you hear . . .?�

����������� Harry winced and covered his ears, the voices of many students reverberating off his eardrums and he closed his eyes, trying his best to block them out as his ears rang. Suddenly, everything fell silent, and Harry opened his eyes, noticing his friends giving him odd looks. Ron gestured to the head table with a jerk of his head, and Harry lowered his hands and turned in his seat to see the headmaster standing with his hands up for everyone to quiet down. When there was complete silence, the headmaster spoke.

����������� �Good morning, everyone. I only have one announcement before you begin your classes for today. As per the new Ministry guidelines, a mandatory health exam must be performed on all students today to make sure everyone is up to date on your vaccinating potions, vision and hearing check charms, and physicals.�

Harry paled, his heart racing in his chest, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. They knew. They had to know. And they were searching for him. Remus had to know. Was that why he was missing? Had he been sacked already? Harry tried to keep his breathing under control while the headmaster continued talking.

�When you hear your house and year called, please report to the infirmary for your health check. We will begin with the first years and work our way up to the seventh years. Please be cooperative with these new guidelines as it is only required once to get the school up to par, and then will only be performed on new first years coming in. You may return to your breakfast, and when you are finished, first-year Hufflepuffs will start the exams.�

�Ruddy new guidelines,� Ron muttered. �The board of education never cared about magical student health before, why bother now?�

�It�s not a bad thing, Ron,� Hermione said. �In muggle schools, this is done yearly. It�s about time Hogwarts did the same.�

����������� With his friends back to their usual bickering, Harry focused on breathing slowly through his nose, urging his heart to slow down. He could avoid the checkup. He used to do it all the time at primary school. He could come up with a thousand excuses as to why he missed his appointment. He had to. He could not be sent away from Hogwarts. He would have nowhere else to go.

 

Severus walked briskly to his potions storeroom in search of his dittany to treat some injuries uncovered on a couple Hufflepuff students. Sometimes, health exams revealed far more than anyone was ready for, especially muggleborns who say their kids� magical abilities as unusual and freaky, or worse, as satanic. Those cases produced some of the worst abuse situations and Poppy was besides herself as she read over the parchment listing what injuries needed tending to.

����������� Severus found the salves he needed, and he grabbed a few other healing potions and shoved them into his robe pocket. He closed his storeroom and cast a few security charms and locks on it. No need to have any students finding the storeroom and snitching supplies from it.

����������� As Severus walked down the corridor, a thud in an adjacent classroom caught his attention. There was a small scuffle and then silence.

����������� Severus paused outside the classroom door, then pulled out his wand and flicked it toward the ceiling in the room. Hundreds of dormant candles came to life, lighting up the dark room. There was a rattling noise, then silence.

����������� Severus stepped into the room. Chairs were resting on top of tables, and a thick layer of dust settled over the furniture. Severus moved through the rows of desks with silent footfalls, swiveling his head in search of anyone, or anything, that could have caused the disturbance. As he neared the back of the room, a cupboard door creaked.

����������� Severus froze and stared at the door.

����������� Silence filled the room once more. Carefully, Severus reached for the cupboard door, and it creaked as he slowly pushed it open.

����������� Teeth flashed and Severus fell to the floor with a shout as a werewolf lunged out of the cupboard and snapped at him. He crawled away as the wolf stalked after him, its face scarred and its eyes red. Its gray fur bristled as it bared its large teeth at Severus.

����������� Finally feeling like he had put some distance between himself and the wolf, Severus raised his wand at it.

����������� �Riddikulus!� he shouted.
����������� His curse hit the wolf, and it shrunk down and turned into a yellow puppy chasing its tail. After a few spins, the puppy whimpered and ran back for the cupboard, jumping inside and disappearing in the darkness. The cupboard door swung closed at the movement of the boggart jumping inside.

����������� Severus panted on the floor for a few minutes, cursing himself for even investigating the damn room. He made note of the classroom so he would remember to come back down and relocate the boggart so no students came across it. Shakily, he stood up and left the classroom, locking the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, taking a minute to occlude his mind and slow his heart rate down before he carried on his way to the infirmary.

����������� When he arrived to the infirmary, he handed the potions to Poppy, who set them aside with a small muttered �thanks� as she reviewed her papers. A quill hovered in the air next to her, ready for the next exam.

����������� �Do you need any assistance?� Severus asked.

����������� �No,� Poppy said, �I just have to keep moving. We are on a bit of a time crunch and there are a lot of students to examine. As long as everyone shows up when they are supposed to, things should flow nicely. Unless we keep getting surprises.�

����������� �This may be for the best. We are uncovering things we may have never found out if not for this incident. Some of these students will be grateful when they are not returned to their wretched home lives.�

����������� �True. How are you holding up?�

����������� �What do you mean?� Severus frowned at Poppy.

����������� �You know,� Poppy pushed, giving Severus a pointed look, �with your history and all, this incident can be��

����������� �I�m fine,� Severus snapped, cutting Poppy off. �I will deal as I always do. We must find the injured student before something awful happens.�

����������� Poppy stared at Severus for a moment, but he refused to acknowledge her, so she returned to marking up the parchment in front of her. Severus took a deep breath and occluded his mind some more. ��

�����������

����������� Harry followed his friends to his next class of the day, his eyes aching behind his glasses. He rubbed at his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but his vision was very blurry behind them. He reached up and pulled the glasses down so he could see above the rim of his frames. The world was less blurry without his lens, which was odd, but he was getting a headache keeping the glasses on, so he pulled them off.

����������� A week had passed, and Harry had managed to avoid the mandatory health check up so far. It was taking a while to get through every student, so it was just yesterday that his year and House was called, and Harry stayed in the Gryffindor Tower while everyone else reported to the Infirmary for their exam. It took the entire day for Madam Pomfrey to get through his classmates, and when everyone was back, Harry had been afraid that Madam Pomfrey would come collect him from the tower herself. However, the next House was called this morning, and no professors came hunting Harry down. It was a relief for Harry. He might just get away with this.

����������� Besides, the worst of the pain was over, he suspected. His shoulder had two, large nasty scars on it, with four small raised scars over where each puncture wound of the wolf�s canines had been. The book Harry found on werewolves in the library that he spent yesterday reading explained that werewolf bites and scratches leave nasty scars, but aside from that, werewolves had a strange healing factor in their blood that allowed them to heal from wounds and injuries quicker than the average human or wizard. It also talked about enhanced senses, which would explains his current vision problem.

����������� Harry shoved his glasses into a robe pocket and rubbed his eyes again.

����������� �Are you okay, Harry?� Hermione asked.

����������� �My eyes are hurting, that�s all,� Harry said.

����������� �You don�t have your glasses on,� Hermione said. �Well no wonder they hurt. Where are your glasses?�

����������� �In my pocket,� Harry said. �They were making my eyes hurt. I actually can see better without them right now. Maybe the prescription needs to be updated.�

����������� �Huh.� Hermione tilted her head curiously. �Why didn�t Madam Pomfrey fix that for you yesterday?�

����������� �Oh, well, she did, but I think I told her to change them too much without realizing it,� Harry said.

����������� �Wait a minute,� Ron interrupted, �I don�t recall waiting in line with you yesterday. When did you get your exam done?�

����������� �I went really late, so I was last in line. I figured I could hang out in the library while I waited for everyone else to get done with their exams and then got back in line.�

����������� �You went to the library?� Hermione asked, raising her brows. �Willingly?�

����������� �Hey, I study sometimes,� Harry said with a chuckle. He scratched absently at his shoulder as they approached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The headmaster announced during a dinner earlier that week that Remus was resigning due to personal troubles at home and would be leaving very soon. According to what he heard from students coming back from the infirmary, Remus was hanging out there a lot, and it confirmed Harry�s suspicions that the headmaster was searching for a freshly bitten student.

����������� �I wonder who the new professor will be,� Ron said as he entered the classroom.

����������� The trio was slightly early, so they took a seat in the front of the classroom. Harry dug more at the scars on his shoulder. They must be in an itchy phase or something to itch so much. He hopes it meant they were healing and wouldn�t look so unsightly in a week or so.

����������� There was a loud bang in a nearby closet, and Harry winced at the volume of the noise while Hermione and Ron jumped and looked in the direction of the noise. Someone stumbled out of the closet and closed the door behind him. Water leaked out from under the door and small scratching noises could be heard.

����������� The new professor it would seem. He wore dark gray robes and had shoulder length brunette hair with an anchor beard and bushy mustache. He brushed a hand through his hair and smiled at the kids sitting in the classroom.

����������� �Sorry about that,� he said, walking over to his desk and leaning back against it. �No one warned me there was a tank full of grindylows in the classroom. I tried moving the tank without upsetting the little demons too much but they did not appreciate their new location. I�ll relocate them later. My name is Professor Connor Huntington, and I�ll be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. What are your names?�

����������� �Hermione Granger. It�s a pleasure to meet you, sir.�

����������� �Ron Weasley.�

����������� �Harry Potter,� Harry said with a small smile as he forced his hands to stop scratching at his shoulder.

����������� �Harry Potter,� Huntington repeated. �It is an honor to meet the Boy-Who-Lived. I�ve heard great stories of how you defeated You-Know-Who, even as a small toddler.�

����������� �Yeah, I don�t really recall the toddler incident,� Harry said.

����������� �I gathered as much. You know what, I also heard a rumor about a werewolf in the school recently. Can you imagine that? Hogwarts with a werewolf in its walls? Did you kids hear anything about it?�

����������� �Well,� Ron said, �the last full moon, there was something throwing an absolute fit somewhere in the castle. Screaming and howling, it woke everyone up, I�d say. Remember, Hermione?�

����������� Hermione frowned and shrugged, suddenly very quiet. Harry frowned at her as his hand found its way to his shoulder again, scratching away at the scars. He didn�t even realize he had been scratching until he noticed the professor frowning at him.

����������� �You okay, kid?� Huntington asked.

����������� Harry stopped scratching his shoulder and rubbed his arm instead.

����������� �Yes,� Harry answered, �I�m okay. Sore arm, probably from all the note taking.�

����������� Huntington chuckled warmly as he nodded his head in understanding.

����������� �You should rest then,� he said. �Wouldn�t want your arm to fall off during the next class. In fact, I�ll keep it light today.�

����������� �Thanks,� Harry forced himself to say, forcing a smile as well, though it felt more like a grimace. His really wanted nothing more than to scratch at his shoulder more. He did not understand why it was so itchy suddenly, but it was very distracting. He hoped it did not last long or he would not make it through any classes today.

 

����������� It took Poppy two weeks to get through every student in Hogwarts, and while she made sure to stay thorough to be fair to the students, especially as this took time away from their studies. Yet not a single one came through with a bite or scratch on them. The health exams exposed a few rough home situations for some of the students, and those were being handled by aurors who specialized in the department. Severus had supplied potions for healing and other small maladies as was needed, but he did not understand what could have been missed.

����������� Until Poppy reviewed her notes and found one missing report.

����������� �Oh no,� she said softly. �Harry didn�t come for his health check up.�

����������� Severus let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the door frame he was leaning on. Of course it was Potter.

����������� Remus�s jaw dropped, and he paled considerably while his eyes became glassy. He shook his head, rushing forward and grabbing some of the papers Poppy was holding, shuffling through them as if hoping Harry�s was somewhere in the mix.

����������� �No, no,� he muttered repeatedly. �That can�t be right. No, I couldn�t have, not Harry.�

����������� �This doesn�t mean it was him,� Poppy tried to reason. �He may be unharmed. You may have not turned anyone for all we know.�

����������� �Of course, he�s bitten,� Severus said. He crossed his arms and stared at Poppy and Lupin reproachfully. �He�s hiding it. For whatever unknown reason he feels is justified, he�s putting everyone in this school at risk.�

����������� �We don�t know that for sure,� Poppy said. �He could be avoiding the exam for other reasons, too. I suspect his home life isn�t as grand as you�d like to think it is, Severus. And we cannot know anything for sure until we see Harry.�

����������� �Then we drag him here first thing in the morning.�

����������� �Oh, I�m sure that�ll go over well.�

����������� �I�ll find him,� Remus said. A few tears had escaped from his eyes but he ignored them stubbornly as he nodded his head. �I can find him and bring him here. I have to apologize and make things right with him.�

����������� �I don�t think that�s a good idea,� Poppy said.

����������� �I agree,� Severus snapped. �You�ve done enough damage, wolf. And we�ve wasted enough time with these exams. The full moon is in fifteen days. We do not need a repeat of the last full moon to occur.�

����������� �You are right, Severus,� Albus said as he stepped into the infirmary, having heard most of the conversation on his way in. �We must take control of the situation before it is too late. However, we must give Harry the chance to make the right decision himself. He is not one to endanger his friends.�

����������� �We cannot wait on a child to decide what is best,� Severus argued, �not in this case. This could get ugly really fast. A werewolf is far too dangerous to allow to wander the school unsupervised for long.�

����������� �We have some time before the full moon, Severus. Let us give Harry a chance. I will let Minerva know that Harry skipped his health exam and must report to the infirmary at once. As his head of house, she will ensure that he attends the exam.�

����������� Severus scoffed at that. He had a feeling he would be hunting Harry down himself when everyone else�s plans failed. This was just what the world needed�their hero turned into a savage, uncontrollable monster. For a moment, Severus wanted to feel some kind of sadistic justice over Harry�s predicament�James Potter�s son turned into a beast by the very beast they tried protecting in their school years. But there was no joy in knowing Harry may have been bitten. Only a deep and heavy burden of some unknown emotion Severus felt within his chest, with just a dash of fear. �

 

�Invented by Damocles Belby,� Harry read, pointing at the words as he stared intently at the book, �the Wolfsbane Potion relieves the symptoms of lycanthropy in the werewolf, allowing one to hold on to their mental faculties after transformation and thus retain their human consciousness while in animalistic form, rendering the otherwise dangerous beast into an ordinary wolf.�

����������� Harry frowned at the page, looking over at a picture of the potion boiling in a cauldron. Under the picture was a list of the ingredients required to brew the potion, and Harry studied the list, glancing back and forth between the list and the text which explained how to brew the potion. He had never excelled in Potions class, but this was his answer to staying sane and keeping his friends safe from himself. He had to find a way to brew the potion within the next week as after that, it would be the week leading up to the full moon. He would have to come up with a Plan B if he couldn�t figure out the potion. Which, with his skills, was highly likely to happen.

����������� However, he would do his best. He reread the ingredients once more, then looked at how they were used in the potion. Boil the juice of two mandrake leaves. Add in exactly seventeen wolfsbane leaves and allow them to steep in a simmer for two hours at exactly ninety-six degrees Celsius. The temperature cannot rise or fall in those two hours. Okay, that might be a bit of a challenge.

����������� Harry bit his lip as he read on. After adding three drops of dragon�s blood, return the cauldron to a boil and wait three minutes before adding�

����������� �There you are!� Minerva McGonagall�s voice snapped from above him.

����������� Harry�s head snapped up to see his head of house�s furious look. She was standing in front of the table he was sitting at with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

����������� �Did you not receive my message at breakfast this morning?� McGonagall asked.

����������� Harry winced. He had received her note about reporting to his office after his morning classes and before lunch, he had simply ignored. He was sure he knew what she wanted to discuss.

����������� �I received it, Professor,� Harry said.

����������� �Then why, pray tell, are you here in the library and not in my office long after you should have been?�

����������� �I . . .� Harry fought for a reasonable explanation, �I forgot you said before lunch.�

����������� �Where are your glasses?� McGonagall asked suddenly.

����������� �They were hurting my eyes. I took them off.�

����������� In truth, he had not worn his glasses in days. He found he really didn�t need them anymore, which honestly wasn�t the worst change he was experiencing.

����������� �All the more reason to see Madam Pomfrey,� McGonagall said.

����������� �Well, I don�t mind, really.�

����������� McGonagall rolled her eyes and motioned for Harry to follow her. Harry abandoned the books at the table and swung his bag over his shoulder before following his teacher out of the library.

He tried to put on a neutral face as if this trek didn�t bother him in the least, but his bravado was falling the closer they walked toward the infirmary. She wasn�t even bothering to hide the fact that that was where she was leading him. What if they locked him up somewhere far away from Hogwarts when they saw the bites? What if he was expelled from Hogwarts for being out after curfew and nearly exposing Remus�s secret? There were so many what ifs that Harry managed to consider a hundred nerve wracking scenarios in the time it took to ascend one floor, and his heart was racing in his chest while his breathing came heavy. They were just one flight of stairs away from the infirmary, and Harry froze.

�Professor McGonagall,� Harry said, �I really need to use the loo.�

�I�m sure it can wait until we are at the infirmary,� McGonagall said.

�No, it�s urgent. I didn�t want to waste any study time before classes and didn�t get a chance to go after lunch and I really need to go now.�

McGonagall turned annoyed eyes on Harry and stared him down. Harry did his best to look desperate by crossing his legs and giving the professor a pleading look. It seemed to work as McGonagall sighed and pointed at the nearby boys� restroom.

�Very well,� she said, �but be quick. I do not want to keep Madam Pomfrey waiting any more than she already has for your health check-up.�

�Thank you,� Harry muttered before rushing to the restroom.

Inside, Harry raced to a sink and leaned against it heavily, taking several slow deep breaths to calm his heart and ease his mind. He was visibly shaking as he gripped the countertop, and he looked up in the mirror to see his unruly hair a bit wet from his sweat. He was sure McGonagall thought all of this was due to his need for the loo, and he was okay with her thinking that. It didn�t seem like she knew anything else.

�Which made Harry wonder who did know. This whole health check thing was surely in search of a bitten student, wasn�t it? At least Madam Pomfrey had to know so she wasn�t surprised when she found the marks. The headmaster would have to know as well. Remus was either sacked or he left of his own accord, and the reason behind either would have been disclosed to the headmaster. Was that all who knew?

�Mr. Potter, no dillydallying,� McGonagall called into the loo. �We are on a tight schedule, and you have classes starting up.�

Harry winced and looked around the loo, as if hoping an escape might pop up in front of him. He could not be exposed. Not yet. If he could brew the potion, he wouldn�t be a threat to anyone. His plan just had to work. He had to stay in the school as long as possible. He would not be sent away.

Harry set his bag down and unzipped it. He dug through it and found his invisibility cloak. Pulling out the silky fabric, he threw his bag on and covered himself with it, disappearing under the garment. Slowly, he walked out of the loo, tiptoeing past McGonagall, who was tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. Carefully, Harry slowly walked down the closest set of stairs before running away as fast as he could, headed for his next class.

Sure, the professors could find him again and pull him out of class at any time, but he had at least delayed the visit for now.

 

����������� Severus was not surprised to hear that Harry was evading his professors. He scoffed at McGonagall�s story of how Harry disappeared on her when she had been delivering him to the infirmary. The headmaster had informed all the professors now that Harry had missed his health check and was required to go to the infirmary. Everyone was to try to catch the little brat and take him there if they felt they had a chance to do so. However, Harry made sure to sit as far back in the classroom as possible, and he rushed out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, ignoring anything the professors said, his friends running after him every time with confused looks.

����������� Even Severus�s class that Thursday, Harry was far back in the classroom, his friends reluctantly sitting next to him, though Granger looked very put out at sitting in the back.

����������� �Potter,� Severus said at the start of his class, �stay after class.�

����������� Harry didn�t acknowledge that he heard anything.

����������� Severus really didn�t expect to have any luck where the other professors had failed. As soon as the bell rang, Harry was out of his classroom before any other student, ignoring Severus shouting his name. Severus rolled his eyes but did not pursuit the little brat. He would be caught in due time. If the headmaster did not take active measures the week of the full moon, he would. He of all people knew how dangerous werewolves were.

����������� At the next staff meeting, the professors discussed Harry�s evasive behavior. McGonagall even confessed to trying to pull Harry from his dorm, but he had managed to disappear on her again before she could even announce why she was in the common room. Madam Pince explained how often Harry was in the library scanning through book after book, and even she tried to alert a few professors to his presence in an attempt to catch him, but he was always long gone before a professor could arrive. Severus frowned at that piece of information.

����������� When Albus arrived, he explained that the Ministry had a timeline set for when all the health exams had to be completed, and that they were nearing the end of that deadline. Harry needed to report to the infirmary, and if force had to be used, then the professors were to do so the next time they saw Harry. The professors agreed, and at the end of their meeting, everyone bid each other goodnight, leaving one by one until only Severus and Albus remained.

����������� �Where is the wolf?� Severus asked. Lupin had disappeared earlier that day.

����������� �He left for the next week. Tomorrow starts the seven days leading up to the full moon.�

����������� Severus let out a deep sigh. Playing nice with Harry had allowed this to go on too far. They needed to contain that child now.

����������� �I fear,� Albus added, �that Harry may be using his invisibility cloak to hide from us.�

����������� �He has an invisibility cloak?� Severus growled. His eyes glinted in remembrance. �James Potter�s invisibility cloak?�

����������� �I gave it to Harry in his first year. After all, it is rightfully his heirloom.�

����������� �He was eleven years old, Albus! What did you think he would use it for?�

����������� �Perhaps I was hasty in wanting to return something of his parents to him.�

����������� �Perhaps!? The last thing we need right now is an invisible werewolf.�

����������� �I know. We need to bring Harry to the infirmary before the night of the full moon. He has avoided all of us and refuses to answer any of our letters. I believe he is afraid of what we may do to him. He needs reassurances that we mean no harm and only wish to help him through this traumatic change in his life. I will try to find him myself. Maybe he will listen to me in person, where I can talk him through his fears.�

����������� Severus closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to force the image of an invisible werewolf rampaging through the halls of Hogwarts out of his mind. Once he occluded that thought away, he opened his eyes. �

����������� �I am missing a few ingredients from my private storeroom.�

����������� Albus�s brows shot up.

����������� �Is that so? Which ones?� �

����������� �An occamy egg, premade mandrake juice, a moonstone, and most recently, wolfsbane leaves. I wasn�t sure if it was Potter at first, but the last bit of ingredients taken last night changed my mind. And he�s been in the library a lot. He is researching his condition.�

����������� �And hoping to make the potion, it would seem.� Albus tapped his chin thoughtfully.

����������� �He will fail,� Severus said. �Wolfsbane is beyond finicky and volatile. He won�t make it past the first two steps. It took me three attempts to get the process down correctly.�

����������� �Does he need something else?� Albus asked.

����������� �He�s probably grabbed a few other ingredients from the classroom supply closet. The only thing I do not keep there is the Syrup of Hellebore as it is extremely poisonous. It�s the only thing he has not taken yet, probably due to the fact that I keep it locked up in the back of the closet.�

����������� �What do you suggest we do, Severus?�

����������� �We know what Potter is after. I suggest we give him exactly what he wants.�

 

����������� Harry followed the map down to Severus�s private storeroom once again in complete darkness, his eyes giving him an advantage with his newfound night vision. This was the final night he could attempt to make the Wolfsbane Potion. He had mocked practiced the movements while trying to collect all the ingredients he needed throughout the last week. The Syrup of Hellebore was the only thing he was missing, and he could not find the damn thing in the closet anywhere. Surely Remus had been taking the potion throughout most of the year, there had to be a supply of the syrup somewhere, or even the plant itself. He could milk the syrup out of the plant if he needed to. But he had to make the potion now and take a dose before midnight, which was only five hours away.

����������� Otherwise, Plan B would be escaping into the Forbidden Forest as far away as possible from Hogwarts. He remembered hearing rumors of werewolves living in the forest, though he had never personally seen them in all his misadventures. It was the best he could come up with at the moment. He still had seven days until the dreadful night came, and while he was fighting all levels of panic and anxiety, he had managed to stay clear of all the professors and even the headmaster. He might just get away with hiding what he had become.

����������� Harry came to the storeroom and pulled out his wand, ready to unlock the door. However, he paused when he noticed the door was already opened the slightest bit. The hair on the back of Harry�s neck rose and he glanced around. He didn�t see or smell anyone, oddly enough that was something he could do now, and when he looked down at the map, he didn�t see any names near the storeroom. Maybe he had left the door open last time. He would have to be more careful.

����������� He folded the map and shoved it in his robe pocket before he slipped into the storeroom and began scanning the shelves for the Syrup of Hellebore. He had to believe that he was going to find it tonight. Perhaps if he wished it enough, he might finally come across it.

����������� One by one, ingredient after ingredient, potion after potion, Harry went through every shelf and nearly snarled in frustration when he did not see the ingredient he desperately needed. As he walked past the back end of the shelves, he froze, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening.

����������� There, in a blue hourglass shaped vial, clearly labeled in Severus�s sharp script, was a Wolfsbane Potion.

����������� Harry�s heart nearly leaped out of his chest. They were definitely on to him. They were luring him into a trap. But that was exactly the potion he needed. And it was right in front of him. All he had to do was take it.

����������� With shaky hands, he reached for the potion, slowly picking it up off the shelf. He brought it to his nose, popping off the cork and inhaling the scent.

����������� Repulsive. Nauseating. Weakening.

����������� As Wolfsbane should be. There was a strong hint of horseradish scent among the vile magic working its way through his system from the smell alone, and Harry knew that this was Wolfsbane for sure. And he threw back the vial and downed the potion before checking the shelf for more. If he could find six more, he would be set for the week and wouldn�t need to bother attempting to brew something he would probably just fail at.

����������� But there were no more potions. As he felt around the back of the shelf in case they were hiding behind other vials, arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side and dragging him out of the storeroom.

����������� �Ahh!� Harry cried out in surprise before thrashing around in his captor�s grip, kicking and writhing. He saw a glimpse of familiar black robes and he struggled harder. �Snape! Let me go!�

����������� �Enough of that,� Severus hissed in his ear. �I daresay you�ve caused enough trouble for everyone. We are going to the infirmary at once to have you looked over and then locked up like the wolf you are.�

����������� �No, please,� Harry pleaded as he tried to wrench his arms free. He kept throwing his weight every which way to try to unsteady the potions master as the man tried to drag him down the hall, and he kicked at Severus�s shins as well. He would not go down like this. He couldn�t be expelled for something he couldn�t control. And most importantly, he did not want to be locked up like a monster, even if he knew he was becoming one.

����������� �Stop it, Potter,� Severus snapped at him. �I am not against hexing you if it means an easier trip to the hospital wing.�

����������� Afraid Severus might follow through on his threat, Harry did the only thing he could think of.

����������� He bit down on the arm encircled around him.

����������� Severus cussed loudly as he yanked his arm away, and Harry was ably to jerk out of Severus�s grip and run down the hall as fast as he could, pulling out his invisibility cloak and disappearing under it.

 

����������� Severus did not chase after Harry. His plan had not worked quite as well as he had hoped but at least it did confirm his and the headmaster�s suspicion: Harry was the new werewolf. Severus pulled up his sleeve and looked at his arm. He had felt the pinch of teeth and nearly panicked, but Harry had not even left a mark. Which was good�in the week up to the full moon, a werewolf�s saliva starts producing more of the protein needed for transformation, as well as transferring the disease. With all the research Harry had done, he would have known that. He had not intended to puncture, just startle. However, it was not a comforting thought that Harry had been so willing to bite just to get away.

����������� Still, Harry had taken the bait. He would need more of the Wolfsbane Potion now that he had lost his chance of finding the last ingredient to attempt brewing his own, which he would fail at anyway. Severus had the upper hand now. If Harry wanted more doses, he would have to come directly to Severus. And Severus knew Harry would want more. If Albus was right about anything, it was that Harry would not endanger his friends intentionally.

����������� All Severus had to do was wait for Harry to appear for the next dose. �

 

�If I told you what I was,

����������� would you turn your back on me?

����������� And if I seemed dangerous,

����������� would you be scared?�

����������� --"Monster� Imagine Dragons

 

����������� Harry chewed his nails as he waited in the hallway in the early morning, hidden under his invisibility cloak. The Wolfsbane Potion had made him feel very nauseous and shaky last night, but then the effects had faded after a couple hours. He was sure that taming the mad wolf inside him came at a cost, and he was very willing to accept the stomach upset and side effects of the potion to keep everyone safe around him, and to keep the monster inside at bay.

����������� Light was filling the castle as morning dragged on, and slowly, candles lit up in the dungeons, and Harry adjusted himself on the windowsill he was sitting on, watching the office door intently. He wasn�t sure what the professor�s morning routines were, or where his quarters were, but he was hopeful a quick stop at the office was in those routines.

����������� He wasn�t sure how much longer he waited while gnawing on his fingernails. Finally, he saw Severus, dressed in his usual black teaching robes, walking down the hall with a cup of tea in his hands, and Harry pulled the cloak tighter around him as he slid off the windowsill.

����������� Severus pulled out his wand to unlock his office door.

����������� Harry slowly tiptoed toward Severus, not really wanting to startle the professor, nor wanting to announce his presence quite yet. He was almost right behind the professor when Severus spun around and directed his wand right at Harry.

����������� Harry jumped back, then lowered the hood of his invisibility cloak quickly to reveal himself.

����������� �It�s just me,� Harry said. �Sorry, sir. I didn�t mean to startle you.�

����������� �Indeed,� Severus said, not lowering his wand. �Sneaking up on someone while invisible rarely startles anyone.�

����������� �I�m sorry about last night,� Harry said.

����������� �For what part?� Severus sneered. �Stealing from my supplies? Refusing to follow an order? Avoiding the infirmary? Or nearly biting me?�

����������� �I wasn�t trying to really bite you,� Harry said.

����������� �Oh, that makes it okay then?� Severus lowered his wand to his doorknob and tapped it twice, unlocking his office door. He walked into his office, though he did leave the door open, and Harry took that as an invite to follow the potions master.

����������� �No, it doesn�t,� Harry said as he walked into the office, pausing just within the entryway and watching as Severus took a sip of his tea before setting it down on his desk. �I just . . . I can�t go to the infirmary.�

����������� �And why not?� Severus asked as he rummaged through piles of parchment.

����������� �I think you know why,� Harry said. �But no one else seems to know. They would have come after me by now, wouldn�t they have?�

����������� �Most likely,� Severus agreed softly, glancing up at Harry�s floating head for a few seconds before shuffling through his parchment again. �I do not know what you think will happen when you go see Madam Pomfrey, but it�s probably nothing like what you are imagining in your head.�

����������� �Wasn�t the whole health check thing because of me?� Harry asked, stepping further in the office. �You were all looking for someone who was bitten.�

����������� �We were.� Severus pulled out an old slip of parchment and walked over to Harry. �And now we�re not. The headmaster and I know who was bitten. You are, however, still required to go to the infirmary. The headmaster has actually made it a mandatory protocol. Besides, you�ll need someplace secure for your . . . monthly ailment.�

����������� Severus held out the parchment slip, and Harry hesitantly accepted it, his hands appearing out from under the cloak. It was a list of potion ingredients with prices listed next to it. Harry frowned at it.

����������� �What is this?� he asked.

����������� �After all the research you�ve done, I�d think you�d recognize what potion these ingredients make.�

����������� �Wolfsbane,� Harry said.

����������� �Yes. I thought you might like to know what your future expenses will be, seeing as you are so determined to make the potion yourself. And if you continue to refuse to visit the infirmary and abide by the rules the headmaster will set for you, you will be removed from Hogwarts, and you will be on your own figuring out how to control the wolf within you.�

����������� Harry sucked in a breath at some of the prices for some of the ingredients. Why on earth were they so expensive? Did all werewolves spend this much every month? There was no way.

����������� �An ounce of dragon�s blood is fifty-four galleons?� Harry asked aloud.

����������� �You expect such a difficult to collect ingredient to be cheap?� Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry and crossed his arms. �Perhaps you thought the men who risk their lives obtaining it for you would give it to the great Harry Potter for free? Is that it?�

����������� �No, it�s not,� Harry snapped.

����������� �No, you�d rather just steal the ingredients instead, wouldn�t you, you impudent little brat?�

����������� Harry sucked in a breath as he realized that he had in fact stolen very expensive ingredients from the potions master. In all fairness, he knew what he had been doing was wrong, but he had not realized just how expensive the ingredients were. He had only been trying to keep himself from endangering the school.

����������� �I�m sorry,� Harry said. �I�ll bring them back. I didn�t break anything. And I didn�t know how expensive they were.�

����������� �Like that would have stopped you. I expect everything that you took to appear on my desk within the next couple hours or you�ll be scrubbing cauldrons and preparing ingredients for the next five years to pay off what you stole.�

����������� �I�ll bring them back.� Harry hesitated, lowering the parchment slightly as he peered up through his fringe at Severus. �I need more of the potion, sir.�

����������� �And you expect me to just hand them over to you at your every beck and call? Do you think I just have an endless supply of Wolfsbane Potions to give away like candy on Halloween?� Severus shook his head. �Wolfsbane must be brewed every month as it is a very sensitive potion and does not keep for long. One batch makes a week�s worth supply. Of course, I might be willing to spare a few doses I have left for one werewolf�should he report to the infirmary as he was supposed to.

����������� �Why? You know it�s me.�

����������� �You still need to have your full health check up performed, regardless of the fact that the headmaster and I know of your condition. And Madam Pomfrey will need to go over a few things with you, as will the headmaster.�

����������� �To lock me away? To kick me out of Hogwarts? No, I won�t go.�

����������� �Then no deal, Mr. Potter. You�re getting nothing from me.� Severus walked back to his desk, shuffling parchment once more as he collected his lesson plans for the day. Severus shrunk the parchment and stuffed them into a robe pocket.

����������� �You can�t do that.� Harry walked up the desk, setting the slip down on it while glaring up at Severus.

����������� �You know the stipulations that will change my mind.�

����������� �You�d be endangering everyone in this whole school.�

����������� �No, Potter,� Severus said as he rounded the desk, standing in front of Harry and leaning in close so their faces were inches apart. �You would be.�

����������� Harry felt his hands shake and he lowered his eyes. He took a deep breath and steadied himself before opening his eyes again.

����������� �Okay,� he said. �I�ll do it. But can I have until the end of the week?�

����������� �That�s pushing it awfully close to the full moon. You have until the day before the full moon to take yourself to the infirmary and have the health exam performed.�

����������� �Okay,� Harry agreed.

����������� �And you will hand over your invisibility cloak,� Severus said, holding out his hand.

����������� �No!� Harry jerked back a step.

����������� �Potter,� Severus snarled through his teeth, glaring at the child. �You�ve been abusing it the last few weeks and we do not need an invisible werewolf running around Hogwarts. Hand it over, or you can kiss the Wolfsbane goodbye and find yourself locked up in Magical Creatures Control Unit come the full moon.�

����������� �It�s all I have of my parents,� Harry said.

����������� �I am confiscating it for the safety of the school,� Severus said. �I have no plans of keeping it from you permanently. It is your choice: give up the cloak or spend a long night at the Ministry sedated and in chains.�

����������� Harry bit his lip as he considered his options. If there really was a thing as Magical Creatures Control, it sounded like his worst nightmares come true. He didn�t want to lose the security he felt with the cloak, but he also could not miss his Wolfsbane now that he had started it. He needed to keep his sanity when the inevitable came and he turned into a wolf. Harry swallowed dryly and blinked his eyes rapidly as he stripped the cloak off his shoulders, revealing the rest of his body as he folded up the cloak and held it out to Severus, who took it and set it on his desk.

����������� �Wise decision.� Severus reached into his robe and pulled out a similar hourglass shaped vial Harry had seen last night. �Here. Take it this afternoon. You don�t want to take the doses so closely together to each other. And remember, the day before the full moon, you will see Madam Pomfrey, or I will drag you there myself under full body binds.�

����������� Harry nodded, clutching the potion to his chest like a lifeline.

����������� The next couple of days proved to be very difficult. The Wolfsbane made Harry feel sick to his stomach, and sometimes, he also felt very sleepy. At one point, he had passed out in Transfiguration, which caused him to lose points for Gryffindor. When Hermione had scolded him for not getting better sleep at night, he had snapped at her to mind her own business and worry about her own sleep, which he instantly regretted, especially after seeing her hurt look. Harry was not sure if his sudden irritability was caused by the full moon drawing nearer or if it was another side effect of the potion he was taking. Or a combination of both.

����������� Every afternoon, Harry reported to Severus�s office to pick up a dose of the Wolfsbane, which the professor usually handed over with only a reminder of their deal, which Harry nodded at before taking off to drink the potion in privacy.

����������� Every time he drank it, he immediately felt its effects. Weak. Unsteady. Shaky. Sick.

����������� And those effects seemed to last longer with each dose he took, and he wondered if he would feel this way the entirety of the full moon night. Even if he did, it would be worth it to keep his friends safe. Even if they were annoying him at the moment. Hermione seemed to realize something was off about Harry, and she was always insisting that he go back to the infirmary and have Madam Pomfrey reexamine him. Ron seemed to pick up on Harry�s negative energy and was usually trying to interest him in a game of exploding snap or chess to �take the stress of school off.� But Harry rejected their help. Sometimes kindly. Sometimes rudely.

����������� His senses were another thing to get used to. His eyesight had greatly improved, and everyone was quick to point out his missing, trademark glasses. His ears picked up every whisper, his nose every smell, and the hair on his skin seemed sensitive to every change in temperature and air pressure. It was driving him insane. After taking his sixth dose, Harry was feeling particularly sick and fed up with everyone�s loud talking. They were waiting outside the potions classroom door for Severus to finish cleaning up from the last class when Malfoy thought it was a great time to remind everyone that Harry did not wear glasses anymore.

����������� �What�s with the new look, Potter?� Malfoy asked. �Got tired of having four eyes? Wanted to see what normal was like?�

����������� �Lay off, Malfoy,� Ron quickly said. �No one asked you to open your mouth. It�s really nauseating when you do.�

����������� �What�s nauseating is that you associate yourself with mudbloods, Weasley,� Malfoy fired back.

����������� �Shut it, Malfoy,� Harry snarled through his teeth. �Or I�ll do it for you.�

����������� �Oh, you can see well enough to do that now? I know it was just talk before, but I�d actually like to see you put those broken eyes of yours to use. Go ahead. Just try it.�

����������� Crabbe and Goyle stepped closer to Malfoy and sneered at Harry, as if daring him to try something. �

����������� �Guys, just stop,� Hermione said. �It�s not worth it.�

����������� Ron and Harry turned away from Malfoy, who just had to get one last word in.

����������� �That�s right, listen to your mummy, you mudblood loving traitors.�

����������� Heart pumping his body full of adrenaline, Harry felt something deep in his chest snap, and he let out a feral snarl as he spun around and charged Malfoy, shoving the boy into the wall so quickly Crabbe and Goyle were too slow to react. Harry opened his mouth wide and lunged for Malfoy�s neck, wanting to rip the throat out of his nemesis and end his filthy mouth once and for all.

����������� A hand closed on the back of his neck and yanked him off Malfoy.

����������� �Potter!� Severus snapped, shaking him roughly by the scruff of his neck. �What in Merlin�s name do you think you�re doing?�

����������� Harry reached back to grab at Severus�s arm as if to pull the man off his neck, wincing in pain at the tight grip. He looked at Malfoy and ice hit his stomach as he took in the blonde boy�s wide eyes and pale face. Crabbe and Goyle were staring at Harry as if he had grown another head, and even Hermione and Ron were looking at Harry with jaws dropped, though Hermione had her hands over her mouth as well. Everyone else was staring, but they seemed oblivious to what had happened, as if they were just realizing something crazy was taking place and they had missed the show. The rush in his ears died down as Harry realized what he had nearly done, and his own eyes widened, and his knees began to shake.

����������� �Everyone inside the classroom,� Severus said, still keeping a firm grip on Harry�s neck. �Now.�

����������� His classmates piled into the classroom quickly, save for Hermione and Ron, who hesitated before following the others into the classroom, shooting looks back at Harry now and then as they did so.

����������� What did they think of him now? What did anyone think of him now? He really was turning into a monster. His knees shook and his eyes watered, but Harry fought the tears back by blinking rapidly.

�I tried to bite him,� Harry whispered.

�Wouldn�t be the first time you tried that stunt,� Severus scolded. �I think you�re done with classes now. And I believe you promised me you would do something today anyway, something you have not done yet?� ������

�The infirmary,� Harry admitted, glancing up at Severus.

�Indeed. Seeing as you cannot control your emotions at the moment, I suggest you head to Madam Pomfrey and get the exam over with. I will alert the headmaster that you are on your way there now. They will discuss what you�ll do tomorrow. I�m sure Albus has a grand idea for his Golden Boy.� �����

Severus gave Harry a push in the direction of the stairs leading out of the dungeons.

�And Potter, twenty points from Gryffindor for attacking a fellow student and detention with me . . . to be scheduled at a later date.�

Harry nodded before he started walking down the hall, still feeling very shaky as he climbed the stairs. He really had become a monster. He nearly sunk his teeth into Malfoy�s neck. His teeth. Like some savage wild animal hungry for blood, he had wanted to bite someone and cause as much damage as possible. What if he had?

That thought terrified Harry, and he forced the dark images flooding his brain to disappear. The image of his friend�s terrified looks popped up instead, and Harry felt sick to his stomach. He rushed to a nearby loo and held himself over a toilet, waiting to sick up. He kneeled above the seat for nearly ten minutes while his stomach twisted and knotted, but he never vomited. After a few more minutes, Harry decided he was a bit less queasy and went to the sink to splash cold water on his face. What would Hermione and Ron think of him now? What if they knew the truth�would they still want to remain his friends? Worse, what if they feared the monster he was becoming?

The tightness in Harry chest returned full force, and Harry hissed in pain before he gave into the urge and sobbed over the sink. He couldn�t be trusted to stay around anyone anymore. Even with the wolfsbane, he was a dangerous monster. Madam Pomfrey would see that. The headmaster would see that. They were waiting for him at the infirmary with chains and muzzles. Magical Creatures Control was probably there as well, ready to take him away to some cage in the Ministry.

There was only one thing left to do.

Run.

He had to run away, far away, from Hogwarts.

Somewhere no one would find him. Where he could never hurt anyone ever again. And where he would not be locked in chains.

Harry splashed his face one last time and was about to head to his dormitory and collect his things to do just that when he remembered that no matter how far he ran, he might turn back around once he turned into a mindless wolf and come right back to Hogwarts in search of a kill. No, he had to get the final dose of Wolfsbane before he left. He had to find where Severus was keeping it before the full moon tomorrow night.

New plan: break into Severus�s office and find the last dose.

 

�I haven�t seen him all day,� Severus said, his arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently. �He still hasn�t shown up for his final dose. After everything we talked about, you�d think he�d at least have the courtesy to do that before vanishing to Timbuktu.�

����������� �There is still time for him to take the final potion,� Albus said. �We must be patient��

����������� �Patient?� Severus snarled. �The full moon is in mere hours. We will have a werewolf loose in the halls of Hogwarts causing all sorts of havoc. We need to find him now.�

����������� �And I have all the teachers on board searching for Harry.� Albus walked across the infirmary toward where Poppy was adding a few charms to a new temporary addition in the ward. �They believe he is simply disobeying an order to have his health exam performed and they will bring him to the infirmary as soon as they find him.�

����������� �Oh good,� Severus said with a roll of his eyes. �No need to tell anyone he might turn into a raging wolf while in their vicinity.�

����������� �There is no need for alarm yet, Severus,� Albus said. �When that time comes . . .�

����������� �It�ll be too late,� Severus interrupted.

����������� �There are ways to subdue a werewolf,� Poppy said as she walked over to the men. �Most of the staff are trained in ways to subdue most magical beasts that threaten the school in one way or another.�

����������� �No one should have to face that wonderful opportunity if it can be avoided.�

����������� �True. But you know at this point, most common magic will be useless against Harry. Werewolves have strong absorption protection against defense spells. Even locator charms seem to struggle with finding werewolves this close to the full moon. We just have to be patient and hope that everything turns in our favor, hopefully, with best case scenario, Harry turns himself in.�

����������� Severus scoffed at how unlikely that was but Poppy continued talking as she gestured to the new addition in the infirmary. It was a walled off portion, a small cube with a single infirmary bed inside, and several security charms had been placed around it to contain a wolf and keep unsuspecting passersby out.

����������� �It�s not really made for long term containment,� Poppy said. �A determined werewolf could find a way to break down the walls if he really wanted to, but as long as Harry gets the final dose before the sunset disappears, he�ll have no desire to do that. And if he doesn�t, well, there�s always a back up plan.�

����������� �We must resume searching for Harry,� Albus said, already walking for the exit. �I am sure there has been some misunderstanding that could be cleared up with a few gentle words.�

����������� Severus rolled his eyes again but followed the headmaster out.

����������� �What are we to do with him for the rest of the year, Albus?� Severus asked as he walked alongside the elder wizard.

����������� �I do not have an answer yet,� Albus said. �One thing is clear: he will not be able to return to his relatives. It would be too difficult delivering a steady supply of Wolfsbane to a muggle area, and owls are notorious for disliking the smell and dropping packages with any hint of the plant�s scent. Besides, I cannot imagine his muggle relatives will take kindly to finding out Harry is a werewolf.�

����������� �Their little prince?� Severus frowned. �They would abandon him like that? I know the stigma around werewolves is unfavorable, but he is still their nephew.�

����������� �True, but I fear this may be something beyond what they are comfortable dealing with.�

����������� Severus frowned at that, but as the men reached the stairway, Albus climbed up the stairs while Severus went down them. He might as well start searching the dungeons again. Perhaps Harry will come to his senses and arrive for the last dose before sunset. Severus slowly walked through the halls leading to his office, glancing in every classroom and closet he walked by. He grew more anxious as he came up empty handed. Pausing at a window, he watched as the sun dropped lower and lower behind the mountains and growled under his breath before continuing down the hall. Candles lit above him as the castle was shrouded in increasing darkness, which added to Severus�s growing anxiety.

����������� He paused outside his private potions� storeroom, his hand just on the knob when he felt a cold draft behind him. The door to the abandoned classroom across the hall was cracked open.

����������� Severus frowned, knowing he had not unlocked it, and he pulled out his wand and slowly crept into the room, glancing around for any signs of an intruder or even a boggart.

����������� �It�s just me,� Harry�s voice said.

����������� Severus startled, then looked up in the direction of the voice.

����������� Harry was sitting on a windowsill high above Severus�s head, his shoulders slumped and his feet swinging slightly. He had his arms wrapped around his waist slightly, as if attempting to warm himself up in the chilly night as a small draft blew around him from the window. Severus sighed and lowered his wand.

����������� �What are you doing here?� Severus asked firmly.

����������� �I don�t know,� Harry said with a shrug. �Thought it was somewhere I could be alone.�

����������� �Surely you would know better than to go unlocking unfamiliar rooms by now, wouldn�t you?�

����������� Harry�s eyes met Severus�s, but the child shrugged once more before dropping his gaze. Severus bit back a frustrated huff as he stepped further into the room.

����������� �How did you get up there?� Severus asked, frowning at the distance from the ground to the windowsill.

����������� �Climbed,� Harry said. �It was actually pretty easy. I guess it comes with all the other changes.�

����������� �You can�t stay up there, you know,� Severus said. �Everyone is looking for you.�

����������� �I know.� Harry glanced out the window before lowering his gaze to his lap once more. �I was actually planning on leaving.�

����������� Harry pulled a suitcase out from behind him and dropped it to the ground where it landed at Severus�s feet with a heavy thud. Severus kneeled next to it and opened it the slightest, and he realized it was packed full of all of Harry�s things minus his schoolbooks and supplies. He looked back up at Harry.

����������� �I was going to leave Hogwarts for good,� Harry said softly. �It�s no place for something like me, not anymore. How can I be a student here when I almost hurt another student?�

����������� �Potter . . .� Severus began to say, though he struggled with the right words.

����������� �I�m not safe,� Harry continued, his eyes tearing up and he wiped at them stubbornly. �I�m nothing but a monster now. Even Lupin left, he knew what was right. I have to leave, too. Before I hurt someone.�

����������� �Then why didn�t you leave?�

����������� ��Without the last dose, I would be a mad werewolf. I don�t think I�d get far away enough to avoid coming right back to the school.�

����������� �Probably not,� Severus agreed.

����������� �After the last dose, I can leave.�

����������� �Where will you go, Potter?� Severus asked rhetorically. �You are thirteen. You have limited magical training, you cannot get a well-paying job to support your new lifestyle, and you�ll have no access to Wolfsbane. You would just be a danger to the towns and cities around you.�

����������� �I wouldn�t go where any people are,� Harry said.

����������� �And where might that be? You cannot leave. The headmaster surely won�t allow it.�

����������� �What am I supposed to do?� Harry snarled, baring his teeth at Severus in a very wolfish manner. �I�m a danger no matter where I go. I might hurt someone here. I might hurt someone out there. All anyone will want to do is lock me up like I�m some . . .� Harry looked away, glaring at the stone wall around him. �But it�s what I am, isn�t it?�

����������� Severus sucked in a deep breath at that. Harry was clearly struggling with what he had become, as would any reasonable person. Severus reminded himself that this wasn�t Harry�s fault. No, Harry had not helped circumstances, but he was just a child at the end of the day. A very upset and frightened child.

����������� �You have to understand that even with the Wolfsbane on board, if the wrong person runs into you, they can be a danger to you. Sure, it is preferable for you to be behind closed doors anyway, but it�s as much for your safety as it is for others.�

����������� �I figured,� Harry said. �Still, it�s terrifying. But I couldn�t make myself leave Hogwarts. It�s the first place that�s ever felt like home to me. I couldn�t say goodbye. I�m too weak.�

����������� �That is not weak,� Severus argued. �In fact, not running away from your fears is a very brave thing to do.�

����������� �But I�m a monster now. And all I�ll ever be is locked up.�

����������� Severus sighed as he leaned back into a desk behind him. He couldn�t believe he was saying this, but if it eased Harry�s mind enough into luring him down, it needed to be said. Even if he didn�t believe his own words.

����������� �With the Wolfsbane in your system, you are no different from anyone else. However, everyone else may still be afraid of you. You can�t go wandering the halls at night or be out frolicking in the woods. It is too risky. Being locked up is nonnegotiable. That is a new aspect of your life you�ll have to adjust to.�

����������� �I don�t want to live in a cage,� Harry whispered so softly Severus almost missed it.

����������� �A cage? There are no cages, Potter. Just a room. And a locked door.�

����������� �Chains?� Harry asked, shaking slightly, his eyes closing. �Muzzles?�

����������� �No. None of that. We are not cruel monster keepers here. Even Lupin had his own place, albeit a terrible one. We will do better for you. And come morning, you will be let out of the room to resume your normal activities�with a few new rules.�

����������� �How can I trust that?�

����������� �I can�t make you trust anything. You�ll just have to see for yourself. Come down from there, take your final potion, and walk with me to the infirmary. Poppy has a safehouse for you.�

����������� Harry took several deep breaths as he chewed his lip before he pushed off the windowsill. Severus�s breath caught in his throat as he watched Harry fall to the ground below, but the child landed on his feet, if a bit heavily. Severus nodded his head in approval when Harry stood before him.

����������� �Wait here. I will grab you a vial from my storeroom and you will take it immediately. Then, we will head up to the infirmary.�

����������� Harry nodded before lowering his head, watching the tops of his shoes while clasping his hands behind his back. Severus quickly left the room and unlocked the storeroom. He knew he had at least a couple extra doses of Wolfsbane here somewhere, excess from a recent batch. He found the hourglass-shaped vials and pulled one down. One last dose and Harry would at least be a safe werewolf. Even if he happened to turn on the way up to the infirmary, theoretically, he would not have an urge to attack.

����������� Of course, this was all still theory in Severus�s head. He had never been around a werewolf dosed with Wolfsbane on a full moon before. He made it a priority to avoid that scenario at all costs. One encounter with a werewolf several years ago had been enough for him. If he could get rid of Harry before he turned, that would be ideal. They still had a few minutes too.

����������� Severus turned to leave the storeroom when he heard someone scream, �Noooo!�

����������� Severus ran out of the room and nearly collided with Harry, who was fleeing the classroom next door. Harry pushed away from Severus with such force, Severus nearly toppled over.

����������� �You lied to me!� Harry shouted at him; his face red as he kicked at Severus to get away. �You tricked me�get away from me!�

����������� Harry jerked away from Severus when the professor tried to grab his arm before the child ran down the hall.

����������� �Potter!� Severus called after him. He glanced into the classroom to see what had frightened him.

����������� In the middle of the classroom was a large, rusty cage with clanking chains stretching outward, as if wanting to grab the nearest victim to yank into its confines. Severus only managed to get a brief glimpse of it, because as soon as his eyes fell on it, the cage rattled before it morphed into a red-eyed, scar faced werewolf that lunged for Severus, who slammed the door shut.

����������� Dammit, how could he forget to relocate the boggart? Well, he supposed he did have a lot of other pressing matters that had held his attention. Out of sight, out of mind. Severus ran down the hall after Harry, clutching the vial tightly in his grasp. ��

����������� �Potter, slow down!� Severus called after him. He vaguely recalled Lupin explaining at a staff meeting that Harry�s boggart had taken the form of a dementor when they started Patronus Charm lessons. Clearly, there was something more terrifying in Harry�s mind now.

����������� As Severus made a turn down the hall, he slid to a halt.

����������� Harry was stock-still as he stared out a window.

����������� �Potter?� Severus asked, stepping a bit closer, slowly reaching the vial out to Harry. His own eyes widened however, as he saw the edge of the full moon peeking above the mountains as it began its climb in the cloudy, starless sky, a beam of moonlight shining down directly on Harry.

����������� Harry slowly turned, his hand reaching for his chest as if he couldn�t breathe, his eyes bloodshot. Then, he collapsed to the ground and seized violently.

����������� The vial of Wolfsbane shattered on the ground as Severus fumbled for his wand, backing away from the transformation. His heart leapt to his throat and the sound of it�s pounding was like a thunder in Severus�s ears as he trained his wand on Harry, his hand shaking the slightest.

����������� Harry cried out as his hands curled into paws, hair sprouting everywhere, and his face elongated, his body thrashing against the cold hard ground.

����������� In a matter of seconds, a wolf laid where Harry once had been, a silvery-furred beast with a small but bushy tail standing erect behind the creature as its sharp green eyes zoned in on Severus with a snarl as it pushed itself to its feet.

����������� For a moment, Severus was caught off guard by the green eyes, and for a split second, he saw Lily�s dead body behind them, but then the wolf lunged with open jaws.

����������� Severus cast several stunning spells in rapid order, striking every limb, and the wolf was jerked back with each hit, but all it needed to do was shake out its fur and it would snarl at Severus again as it stalked forward.

����������� Wolfsbane leaves, Severus thought, I have a ton in my closet.

����������� Severus fired a few more stunners, then turned and ran while the wolf took a few seconds to shake itself out again before it leaped after Severus. ���������

����������� Those extra few seconds Severus had gained by stunning the wolf were quickly lost as he neared his storeroom, and the beast slid its way in front of Severus before he could open the door. Severus backed away, right into the abandoned classroom, opening the door and quickly shutting it. ����������

����������� Yet, the wolf managed to sneak its head in between the door and the frame, keeping Severus from closing it all the way.

����������� Severus pushed all his strength into closing the door, but as it gave more and more, jaws snapping centimeters away from his robes, he knew it was a losing battle. He recalled the loose boggart in the classroom and where it hid the first time he defeated it, and he released the door, letting the wolf tumble into the classroom while he ran for the back cupboard, opening it and kicking into the darkness inside to disturb the dark creature.

����������� It worked.

����������� The red-eyed wolf leaped out from the cupboard, straight for Severus�s face, but Severus jumped away and slid behind a desk as the silver wolf slid to a halt in surprise at the new beast, but it snarled all the same, lunging for the red-eyed foe. The boggart snapped its jaws at the wolf, then quickly transformed into a rusty-old cage with chains that snatched a hold of the wolf�s neck and forearms, dragging it toward the cage.

����������� The wolf thrashed and bit at the metal chaining it down, then at the bars of the cage.

����������� Severus used the distraction to escape the classroom, knowing that the boggart would flee back into the cupboard soon as the creatures were not entirely offensive as they were defensive. �

����������� Severus ran into his storeroom and quickly found the wolfsbane leaves in the back of his organized supply where he would usually keep finished Wolfsbane as well. He grabbed several leaves and crumbled them in his hand, grabbing more and more fistfuls, uncaring that the toxins from the plant were seeping into his skin as he grabbed for more and more. He needed the leaves as broken and sappy as possible, exposing the most toxic parts.

����������� A low snarl caught his attention.

����������� The wolf was blocking the entrance as it stared down Severus, its fur bristled and its eyes glowing in the darkness, the little candlelight in the room creating a shadow upon the wolf. It slowly stepped into the room, growling softly with a slight bare of its sparkling white teeth.

����������� Severus held his palm up to his mouth and cast a wind charm through his breath, blowing the aconite at the wolf. With his wand, he began to cast a sleeping charm, a light purple glow emitting from the tip.

����������� The wolf sneezed as the aconite tickled its nose, then tried to snap at the leaves, consuming a few by accident. Realizing the taste was repulsive, the wolf began to back away while Severus stepped toward it. It couldn�t back away too quickly, though, as it began wobbling on its feet. It growled at Severus as more of the leaves slowly rained down on the wolf, snapping at Severus before whimpering as it wobbled more, slowly slipping to the ground.

����������� Another snarl and snap, but it did not deter Severus from standing above the wolf and dropping the rest of the plant on the beast, his wand still casting a sleeping charm. The weakened animal tremored as it tried to focus its eyes on Severus before it snarled before lowering its head and closing its eyes, following into a slumber.

����������� Severus stopped the charm and nearly collapsed, catching himself against the wall opposite the downed wolf. He took in several shaky breaths, sweat trickling down his face. He cast a weakened Patronus Charm to alert Poppy and the Headmaster that he had Harry contained . . . for now.

����������� He wasn�t sure how long the sleeping charm would hold the wolf or how quickly the plant would work through a wolf�s system. Honestly, it might need to snuff the reversal plant to avoid long term effects from the toxin, and Severus summoned the healing salve and a bezoar for himself to stop the toxins seeping through his skin. He choked down the stone and rubbed the salve all over him.

����������� While he kneeled on the ground waiting for himself to recover enough to levitate the wolf, and he was sure help was coming, he stared at the beast, the green eyes it had invading his head. Of course, the werewolf would have Lily�s eyes.

 

����������� The sound of clinking chains stirred the wolf, and its eyes flew open before it lunged for the closing door. However, it was jerked to a halt by the chain around its neck, chocking slightly. The chain, which was connected to the metal bed post of the infirmary bed, clanked and jingled as he tugged against them. The wolf spared it a glance before it snarled and attacked the chains, flailing and crunching on the magically reinforced restraints.

����������� Another chain with a shackle at the end lifted from the ground and attached itself to one of the wolf�s rear paws. It shortened itself back toward the bedframe, tripping the wolf, making him flail and kick while he kept trying to bite the chains at his neck and now on his paw. It howled instinctively for help, a low and mournful sound, before resuming his frustrated snarls and growls as he scraped his nails on the cold floor in an attempt to free himself.�

����������� Severus watched tightlipped from the other side of the wall. He had charmed a temporary mirror into the wall so he could watch the werewolf while Poppy finished adding the last of the security and locking charms to the door she had just exited. Another charm cast over the room and all sound vanished from within, and silence filled the infirmary. Poppy let out a sigh as he grabbed a parchment that was hovering near her and unrolled it, coming to stand next to Severus to peek in on the wolf.

����������� Currently, the wolf was snapping at his own back leg, as if desperate enough to start chewing off his own limb. Poppy flicked her wand, and another smaller chain slithered into the room and wrapped itself around the wolf�s muzzle.

����������� �Do you have to?� Severus asked, startling Poppy, who glanced up at him.

����������� �What?� she questioned. �����

����������� �The chains.�

����������� �He�s going to end up hurting himself.�

����������� �I told him there wouldn�t be any chains.� Severus closed his eyes and rubbed two fingers against his temple where a headache was starting to form. �Or muzzles.� �����������

����������� �Maybe you shouldn�t have said that,� Poppy said as she lifted the parchment up to read. �In this state, he is very capable of tearing down every inch of this enclosure. In any case, Harry is unlikely to remember tonight without the final dose of the Wolfsbane in his system. I suppose you have nothing to worry about regarding what you told him.�

����������� �What do you make of his eyes?� Severus asked as he opened his own eyes to look at the wolf, who was now lying still on the ground under the restraints, panting heavily through his nose.�

����������� �His eyes?� Poppy glanced up briefly. �Green? Well, it�s unusual but not an unnatural eye color for wolves. Perhaps not as green as Harry�s, but I suppose the transformation may not have registered Harry�s green eye color as separate from a wolf�s green eye color, so no mutation occurred there, unlike say Remus�s, where the mutation changes his eyes to amber. Lycanthropy is not always predictable, you know.�

����������� Severus stared at the wolf a few minutes longer, and for a moment, he swore the wolf was staring back at him, those green eyes piercing right through him. Severus was sure he had cast a one-way mirror charm, but perhaps the wolf could sense his presence. Severus stepped back and cancelled the spell, and the wolf disappeared behind the thick wall as the mirror charm fizzled away.

����������� �This is not good,� Poppy said, shaking her head at the parchment.

����������� �What is it?� Severus asked, peering over Poppy�s shoulder.

����������� �I just completed a full health work-up charm on Harry,� Poppy explained. She tapped a section of the page. �He�s underweight, but anyone could see that; been that way since he started Hogwarts, really, but he�s lacking in many vitamins and minerals that go beyond poor eating habits. It�s as if he�s been starved periodically. And he has a few old injuries that did not heal correctly: fractured right wrist for starters, it�s put his hand out of alignment.�

����������� �Probably why he writes so poorly,� Severus commented.

����������� �It wouldn�t help if he can�t move it correctly. He�s also sprained his ankles so many times, he�s got the start of arthritis. His own lycanthropy may reverse that now, but it would be better to be proactive and tend to that once he is . . . back to himself. Mild trauma has been indicated around the head, could mean he�s had a concussion in the past. Further evaluation will be needed tomorrow to rule out any permanent damage.�

����������� �Typical child injuries?�

����������� �Mm, maybe. Given the right circumstances, anything is possible. Only Harry could really tell us otherwise, though I find many of these injuries suspect. And the near starvation? I doubt that was intentional on Harry�s part. Something doesn�t sit well about all of this.�

����������� Severus frowned at the parchment, reading over the medical jargon that described the exact nature of some of Harry�s injuries, and while he was familiar with some of the terminology, he would have to look further into what exactly was being described. Such as a distal radius malunion with volar angulation . . .

����������� �Good evening fellow professors,� Huntington said as he entered the infirmary, glancing around the space with his wand at the ready. �I was just patrolling the halls when I heard the strangest howls. You didn�t hear anything come this way, now, did you?�

����������� �The howls you heard most likely came from outside the castle,� Severus said easily. �There are rumored to be wolves living in the Forbidden Forest.�

����������� �Ah, I do believe I heard something about that,� Huntington said, lowering his wand. �Forgive me, it is second nature to be on edge when a potential dark creature may be on the premise. Though I swore it sounded a lot closer than the forest.�

����������� �I did not hear anything,� Poppy said as she rolled up the parchment. �I have been busy with patients.�

����������� �What�s behind all that?� Huntington asked, gesturing to the new addition in the infirmary.

����������� �A nasty case of dragon pox,� Poppy answered without missing a beat. �It is best to contain these cases to prevent an outbreak in the entire school.�

����������� �Oh, yes, I am all too familiar with that,� Huntington said, taking several steps back. �Seeing as this floor seems secure, I believe I will patrol the next level up, just to be safe that nothing breached the wards. For all we know, a new banshee has moved in.�

����������� �That sounds like a marvelous idea.�

����������� As Huntington turned around, he paused and stepped aside to allow someone else to walk in.

����������� �Evening, headmaster,� Huntington greeted causally.

����������� �Good evening,� Albus greeted in return. �And thank you for being so diligent and proactive on ruling out any threats to the school.�

����������� �Of course. As your defense professor, I figured I should be your first line of defense, naturally, of course. It is my job after all. Now, if you�ll excuse me, I�ll go make sure the next floor level is clear.�

����������� Huntington vanished in a swirl of gray robes while Albus slowly walked over to the containment, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes as he withdrew his wand and cast a see-through charm.

����������� The wolf within had managed to free himself from the chain muzzle and was tearing apart the bed he was chained to, his neck and rear paw still shackled. Cotton and foam littered the room as chunks of the material was ripped out of the mattress. The wolf�s ears were flat against his head, but they perked up when Albus cast the charm, and the wolf swung his head and stared directly at Albus, piercing him with vibrant eyes. While the charm did not allow the wolf to see outside of the room, he seemed to have a sixth sense that he was being watched, and his ears flattened once more as he snarled at Albus.

����������� Albus shook his head sadly at the sight.

����������� �I am so sorry, Harry,� he said.

����������� �You should be,� Severus said as he came to stand next to Albus. �This wouldn�t have happened if you had heeded my advice and never hired Lupin to begin with. You�ve�once again�endangered the students� safety and look what it�s resulted in this time. What will the wizarding world think when they find out their hero is a savage beast.�

����������� Albus sighed as he closed his eyes.

����������� �We must not let them find out,� Albus said. �The ministry will see to it that Harry is locked away for �his protection� in an attempt to preserve what is left of Harry�s hero status. At least until a suitable guardian is found for Harry so that he may resume normal daily activities and continue to attend school.�

����������� �And how do we do that?� Severus asked, crossing his arms as he glanced into the room. Feathers were flying everywhere now as the wolf thrashed a pillow in frustration. �He�s also going to need a steady supply of Wolfsbane to avoid a repeat of tonight.�

����������� �Yes, Severus, and I was hoping you might consider applying for guardianship.�

����������� Severus was sure he did not hear that correctly. He blinked a few times, then glared at Albus.

����������� �Excuse me? You did not just say what I think you said, did you?�

����������� �Afraid so, dear boy. You are the only one here capable of brewing Wolfsbane and you are a professor at the school which Harry attends. I believe this arrangement would be the most ideal.�

����������� �No.�

����������� �It can be a temporary guardianship until another suitable candidate is found.�

����������� �No. No.� Severus shook his head a took a few steps away. �You cannot ask that of me. How dare you�you know my history with . . . with the likes of that!� Severus pointed at the wolf inside the containment. �No. I couldn�t. I can�t.�

����������� �Please, Severus,� Albus said, closing his eyes once more. �I won�t force you to do anything you do not wish to do, but I ask that you at least think it over. Reconsider. Harry is alone now. He has nowhere left to go.�

����������� Severus�s glare deepened as he backed further away. His legs suddenly felt like Jello and his hands shook the slightest. He�s mind was reeling from the request, and many thoughts and images were attacking his brain at once now, so much so, that he was starting to get very lightheaded from the onslaught. He said nothing as he turned for the bathroom in the infirmary and slammed the door shut behind him.

����������� Inside, Severus paced for a moment as his heart rate swooshed loudly in his ears while images continued to play on repeat in his head.

����������� �You really want to know what Remus is up to?� Black taunted one day during their fifth year. �Find yourself a stick and poke the knot at the base of the Whomping Willow. It�ll freeze up long enough for you to see exactly what we�ve been up to.�

����������� Severus leaned heavily over the sink, his palms digging into the cold metal as he felt waves of nausea hit him. After a few seconds, he turned the faucet on and splashed his face with cold water.

����������� Using a long, sturdy branch, Severus managed to hit the knot at the base of the tree, and the flailing branches froze, just as Black said it would. With only the full moon�s light for vision, he carefully maneuvered into the tunnel, and claustrophobia hit him hard as he realized how narrow the tunnel was. He did not particularly enjoy tight spaces, but if there was any chance he could get Potter and his group of friends expelled, he was going to push through his discomfort and see what was hidden at the end of the tunnel.

����������� The cold water shocked his face, but it wasn�t enough to shock away the memories. Severus turned the water off and closed his eyes tightly, trying his best to occlude them back into a dark corner of his mind.

����������� It was very dark in the tunnel. Severus�s wand was illuminated so he could avoid tripping over roots or smashing his head on the jagged rocks. There was a strange snuffling sound at the very end of the tunnel with an occasional scratching that was like nails on a chalkboard, and goosebumps shivered down Severus�s arms.

����������� Severus felt his chest tighten despite his best efforts at calming down and occluding. He backed up into a wall, then slid down it until he was seated up against a corner in the bathroom, his head in his hands while he rested his forehead against his knees. He focused on taking a breath at a time.

����������� It happened so fast; Severus didn�t even have a chance to scream. A large beastly animal came thundering around a corner at the end of the tunnel as Severus stepped out of it. A clawed paw swiped through the air and knocked Severus to the ground, slashing against the teenager�s ribs.

����������� Severus clutched at his left side as memory pains shot up his ribs and back, and he had phantom feelings of blood trickling over his hands. Severus tightened his grip and gritted his teeth as he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his head back against the freezing wall. Occlude, he thought, and he closed his eyes.

����������� The beast stood over Severus on two legs, snarling down at Severus, jaws wide open. Severus held his injured side as he back crawled away, his face white. A bright light illuminated the small space, stunning the wolf, who dropped down to all fours and shook his head. Hands grabbed Severus�s shoulders and yanked him to his feet. �Go!� Someone shouted, and Severus stumbled for the tunnel, sliding through the small space with Potter right behind him.

����������� The werewolf ran after the teens, but his wider shoulders only allowed him to follow so far into the tunnel, and he dug frantically at a place he could not squeeze through, howling and wailing away.

����������� Finally, Severus thought as his mind finally went blank. He waited a few minutes to appreciate the darkness behind his lids before he opened his eyes. He was still shaking the slightest and his skin was clammy, but he could at least breathe normally.

����������� Guardian of a werewolf.

����������� Severus scoffed at that thought. No, he could never do it. He would never be able to see a werewolf as anything but the terrifying beasts that wanted nothing more than to rip people to pieces. Harry was just more proof of that unchanging nature. They were too dangerous to live normally in society. Why could no one else see that?

����������� Severus glared at the floor in front of him. He never should have listened to his school nemesis about the tree to begin with. He had been so determined to find something expel-worthy with Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew that he blindly followed Black�s rules on getting into the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow just to prove a point. How foolish he had been. He would bear the scars of that mistake for the rest of his life. �

����������� But he would never make that same mistake again.

����������� And here he was, being asked to do something that went against every fiber of his being. He couldn�t do it. He would not be fooled twice.

����������� The look on Harry�s face before he changed struck Severus suddenly.

����������� He had been so terrified.

����������� Severus forcefully shook the image away. So what? Who wouldn�t be terrified of such a circumstance?

����������� �I�m a monster now,� Harry had said. �And all I�ll ever be is locked up.�

����������� Severus sighed as the words echoed around him. They were true, so why did they bother Severus so much? A sudden image of Lily�s saddened face crossed his mind, and he knew deep down that it was not the life she had envisioned for her son. She wouldn�t want to see her boy locked up like a beast in the Ministry, trapped there until someone found a way to control Harry�for the better or worse. And with no one there to protect the child, it looked like it was up to Severus.

����������� �You promised me,� Lily�s voice said.

����������� Severus covered his face with his hands.

����������� �I promised I would protect him,� Severus said. �I failed you, Lily. I�m so sorry.�

����������� �But you can still protect him,� the voice said.

����������� He wasn�t sure if he was hallucinating or just losing his bloody mind, but the words sounded so much like Lily, and they were telling him not to give up on his promise. He owed it to Lily after all, and begrudgingly, he owed it to James Potter. At last, he would be able to pay his life debt to the damn heroic Gryffindor by making sure his son was not ostracized for what he had become.

����������� Severus found the strength to leave the bathroom, and he walked into the infirmary on slightly unsteady feet. Albus was no longer present, good riddance, Severus couldn�t help but think. Poppy was checking in on Harry through a see-through charm and Severus stepped up to look in as well. The wolf was gnawing on the chain connected to his neck.

����������� �How are you feeling?� Poppy asked.

����������� �I�ll live,� Severus said.

����������� �Have you considered Albus�s request? You don�t have to do it if you don�t think you�ll be able to. It was asking a lot of you.�

����������� �No. I�ll do it.� Severus watched as the wolf lifted his head and seemingly stared right at him, those bright green eyes too much like Lily�s. Severus swallowed dryly as he said, �I don�t know how yet, but I owe it to his parents. Especially Lily.�

The chains clanked as they moved around the wolf, wrapping around each leg and pulling him to the ground until he was completely lateral, though he did try to snap at the chains holding him down. Then, a smaller chain rose from the ground next to his head and wrapped around his muzzle, closing his jaws tightly before snapping toward the ground, forcing the canine to rest his head flat on the ground. He growled softly against the restraints, but otherwise, he was completely immobile.

����������� �There,� Poppy said as she stared through the charmed window in the wall of the small room containing the werewolf. �That should hold him down.�

����������� Severus�s stomach churned as he was handed a thin, slimy feeling collar. He glanced into the room, noting the wolf was still down on his side, though the small tail was thumping on the ground.

����������� �I�ve infused this with a strong dose of lavender, chamomile, ginger, coconut, and just a hint of aconite,� Poppy explained, gesturing to the collar. �Together, the oils might calm him down enough that he may sleep the rest of the night without use of the chains. It�s a theory that hasn�t really been put to test on wolves with no wolfsbane, I�m sure you can imagine why.�

����������� Poppy hesitated, taking in Severus�s slightly shaking hands. She frowned at him, then reached for the collar.

����������� �Are you sure you don�t want me to do it?� Poppy asked.

����������� �No,� Severus said with a shake of his head. �I can do this. I have to do this.�

����������� �You don�t have to push it. Just because you�re taking Harry in doesn�t mean you have to prove yourself unafraid of what he becomes. Things like this take time and patience . . .�

����������� �I don�t need the lecture. We�re wasting time. I�m going to do this. It was my idea anyway.�

����������� Poppy sighed and nodded her head. She pulled out her wand and cast several charms and runes over the doorknob. After a few seconds, it unlocked. The door creaked open.

����������� �Be quick,� Poppy said. �Seeing someone will probably rile him up and he�ll fight against the chains more.�

����������� Severus nodded as he stepped up to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob. He gripped the knob tightly before he pushed the door open just enough to slip into the room, and he closed the door behind him before he lost his nerve.

����������� The window in the room allowed moonlight to shine through, offering enough light for Severus to see everything in the room without stumbling over his own feet. He slowly walked toward the wolf, collar ready in his hands, and the wolf�s eyes narrowed in on him.

����������� A loud huff from the werewolf made Severus freeze as he sucked in a sharp breath. He watched as the wolf�s whiskers twitched, occasionally lifting his lips enough to show off pearly white teeth. The clinking of the chains as they tightened against their captive was loud in Severus�s ears.

����������� When the wolf did not move, Severus forced his own legs to move, and he walked a bit closer, a bit unnerved by the eyes tracking his every move. Growling grew louder in the room as he neared the wolf, and while his heart was racing and his hands shook a bit more, Severus ignored the feelings as he paused right next to the werewolf.

����������� It had been years since he had been this close to these kinds of beasts. Severus felt waves of nausea hitting him repeatedly as he slowly kneeled next to the wolf�s head. All he had to do now was slip the collar on his neck and retreat. All he had to do was touch the wolf who was lying very still, though growling through the chain muzzle.

����������� Severus slowly reached a hand for the wolf�s neck to slide the collar under him. His fingers were centimeters away from touching the silver fur when he hesitated, his hands shaking even more.

����������� And it was that hesitation that cost him, as the wolf began thrashing against the cold floor with loud moans and snarls, startling Severus, who fell back and crawled away before standing and retreating from the room. He slammed the door behind him and nearly collapsed on the floor from his shaking knees, and he sat against the wall of the room and tried to catch his breath that he hadn�t even realized he had been holding.

����������� Poppy was all over him offering words of comfort and a vial of some kind of brown liquid. Severus held his head in his hands before he angrily threw the collar aside.

����������� �It�s okay, Severus,� Poppy said. �You did your best.�

����������� �I couldn�t do it,� Severus said. He growled in frustration at his own cowardness.

����������� �That�s nothing to be ashamed of,� Poppy said. She pushed the vial into his hand. �Drink this or I�ll spell it into you.�

����������� Severus accepted the potion and sipped it. He quickly realized it was a Calming Draught, and the effects were near instant as he felt his heart and breathing slow and the shakiness of his body ebbed away. He took a few deep breaths, only vaguely aware of Poppy grabbing the collar and entering the room. She wasn�t in there for more than a few seconds when she came rushing back out. She closed the door and cast her multiple spells on it. Severus took another sip of the potion as he watched her.

����������� �Did you get it?� Severus asked without looking up from where he sat on the floor.

����������� �Yes,� Poppy said. �I�ll give him a few minutes with it on before removing the chains. Chances are he may still rip it off.�

����������� In those few minutes, Severus was able to collect himself and stand up once more. He finished the potion before vanishing the glass vial and looking into the room through the charmed window to see the wolf still in the chains on the ground, but he wasn�t fighting them. His eyes were closed, and his tail was still, and the thin collar left the slightest indent in his fur. �

����������� Poppy came out of her office and stood next to Severus. She waved her wand, and they both watched as the chains vanished, releasing the wolf.

����������� The werewolf instantly pushed himself up into a sternal position, but that was as far as he went before he laid his head down on his paws and yawned. He closed his eyes once more.

����������� �Can you imagine,� Poppy said, �a calming collar for werewolves instead of an expensive brew?�

����������� �He�s calm now,� Severus said, �but he�s still not of sound mind. Anyone who walks in there will be in danger of him attacking.�

����������� �True. But it works. With a few adjustments and some experimenting, perhaps there can be an easier way of life for werewolves all over. Besides, I�ve heard that the Wolfsbane can be very unpleasant.�

����������� �As it should be,� Severus argued. He stared at the wolf, noting that his eyes blinked open occasionally to look around the room, as if hoping for some kind of stimulus. It was enough to quiet the wolf for now, but who knew how long it would last.

����������� �While he�s a bit tamer,� Poppy said, �we should get some sleep.�

����������� Severus nodded his head.

 

����������� Harry slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming into the room. His head was pounding, and his body ached, and he had no recollection of what happened last night. He looked around the room he was in but didn�t recognize it. He was lying on the cold floor, and he blushed as he realized he had no clothes on. There was an infirmary bed next to him, and he quickly climbed into it, hiding himself under the sheets.

����������� The room he was in was a small square room, a literal box that had only enough room for the bed and window that happened to be within it. There was nothing else but a door on the opposite wall. There wasn�t even another window looking into his small room. There weren�t even clothes to change into.

����������� Harry slowly lowered the blanket when it was clear no one was coming into the room yet, and he exposed his chest, glancing at the scars on his shoulder. Two long jagged scars, raised and rough, marred the front and two similar ones stood out on the back of his shoulder. Harry reached a hand to trace the scars, then froze, his eyes widening.

����������� His left hand was covered in dried blood.

����������� Harry�s jaw dropped as he stared at his hand. Why was there so much? Had he done something to himself? Or had he injured someone else? He glanced over the bed to look at the floor and spotted a few blood splatters here and there, and his stomach flipped, and he swallowed dryly.

����������� Harry looked down at his hand and arm, looking for any more signs of injury or having injured. He saw small cuts and bruises here and there, and he pulled the blanket away from his lower half to keep checking himself over. There were a few bite marks on his thigh, as if he had begun chewing at himself, and he knew those would scar like the injury on his shoulder. Around his ankle on the same leg was a very circular bruise, as if something had been shackled to him.

����������� He felt a tingling on his neck, and he reached up to touch it. He felt a piece of plastic like material and pulled at it. It came apart and he studied the collar like object. When he sniffed it, it smelled strongly of lavender, with a hint of other flowery smells. His neck still hurt slightly, and he wondered if he had bruising there like around his ankle. His eyes stung slightly as he realized he had most likely been locked in chains at some point during the night.

����������� The door suddenly opened, and Harry threw the blanket over himself and sat back on the bed some, a bit apprehensive about who might be walking through the door. He wasn�t entirely relieved when Severus walked in with a tray full of vials and jars.

����������� Severus paused in the doorway, his brows furrowing at something on Harry.

����������� Harry realized he was staring at the scars on his shoulder, and he set the collar aside and pulled the blanket up further over himself, his cheeks heating up as he was practically naked in the same room as his professor.

����������� Severus cleared his throat as he closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed. He waved his hand and a small stand appeared for Severus to set the tray down on. The first thing Severus grabbed was a hospital gown and he wordlessly handed it to Harry.

����������� Harry accepted the garment and when Severus pointedly turned away, Harry took that to mean he was expected to put it on now. Harry slipped into the gown, feeling a little better with some covering now, and then he looked down at all the vials and jars on the tray.

����������� �Are you finished, Potter,� Severus asked without turning.

����������� Harry didn�t say anything immediately as he considered all the possible scenarios about where he was and what was going to happen to him now. It appeared he was still in Hogwarts if Severus was here too. Harry gulped again before he said in a hoarse voice, �I�m finished.�

����������� He coughed while Severus turned around.

����������� The first thing Severus did was pick up a goblet and hand it to Harry, who accepted it and sipped the water gratefully. Harry drank about half od the goblet as he decided what he wanted to ask first.

����������� �Where am I?� Harry asked when he handed the goblet back to Severus.

����������� �The infirmary,� Severus answered. �I though the bed and gown might have given that away.�

����������� �I suspected,� Harry admitted. �You�ve been trying to get me here all week.�

����������� �And imagine all the trouble you could have avoided if he had simply delivered yourself.�

����������� Harry studied his hands, refusing to reply to that while Severus began mixing a couple vials together.

����������� �Why is my hand all bloody?� Harry asked in a whisper. He wasn�t sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

����������� Severus gently grabbed Harry�s wrist and looked at the bloodied hand, then gently turned it over so Harry could see his nails.

����������� �Looks like you broke a nail,� Severus said. �Probably in one of your fits last night.�

����������� �What?� Harry studied his pointer finger, which was covered in a thicker layer of blood and had a small wound on the nail bed where his nail was indeed broken. �A broken nail caused this much blood?�

����������� �Wolves, like most canines, have blood vessels in their nails. If they break them too far down, they expose the vessel, and it bleeds. Don�t worry, it looks worse than it actually is. Blood, even in small amounts, has the tendency to spread and make a mess.�

����������� �Could I bleed out from that?� Harry asked curiously as he kept studying his nail.

����������� �If every wolf that broke a nail bled out from it, there would be no wolves in the wild. Or werewolves, so to speak. Staying calm and giving it time usually stops the bleeding, as does applying pressure. Once Madam Pomfrey was able to get a calming collar on you, you managed to calm down enough to sleep for a few hours. Then, of course, you were right back to shredding the room.� ����������

����������� �It doesn�t look bad,� Harry said, glancing around.

����������� �She fixed the room up when you were in the middle of transforming back,� Severus explained. �Here, drink this. It will help the headache.�

����������� Harry accepted the vial and drank it down, closing his eyes and sighing in relief as the throbbing in his head vanished. Harry felt a finger tilt his chin upward, and he opened his eyes to see Severus examining his neck. Harry frowned at the man.

����������� �You lied to me,� he said.

����������� Severus lowered his hand and met Harry�s eyes.

����������� �You said there would be no cages or chains,� Harry said.

����������� �There wasn�t going to be,� Severus said. �And there was never a cage, despite what this room looks like to you. Unfortunately, when you took off and missed the final dose of your potion, you transformed into a mad wolf, and chains were needed last night. We tried to help you with the calming collar, but it only lasted do long. Had you taken the final dose of Wolfsbane, it wouldn�t have been needed.�

����������� �There was a cage in the room,� Harry said, closing his eyes as he tried to recall what happened before he turned. �Last night . . . across from your storeroom.�

����������� �A boggart,� Severus said.

����������� Harry frowned at that.

����������� �It couldn�t have been. My boggart��

����������� �Clearly changed.� Severus picked up a jar and unscrewed the top. �As can happen as you go through life and discover things that you never knew terrified you. Chin up.�

����������� Harry blinked before he obeyed and lifted his head up. Severus rubbed a potion into his neck, and Harry winced as he fought against the ticklish feeling from the cold salve and Severus�s fingers rubbing the potion into his neck. Once his neck was healed, Severus moved to his ankle next. Harry watched as the bruises faded away.

����������� �You started biting yourself last night,� Severus said. �Where?�

����������� �It�s just going to scar,� Harry said, his cheeks burning once again.

����������� �And this potion can minimize the scarring. And take away the pain. Let me see, Potter.�

����������� Harry sighed and carefully rolled up the hospital gown, being careful not to expose himself as he revealed the few bite marks on his thigh. Several small punctures covered his thigh, along with some blood stains. The bruising was starting to develop green and black coloring.

����������� �I can put it on,� Harry said.

����������� �You won�t be able to,� Severus said as he uncapped another potion. �This is specifically made for werewolf bites. It had dittany and just a small hint of silver in it, though not enough to trigger a severe reaction. It will hurt, however.�

����������� �What do you mean a reaction�Ahh!� Harry ground his teeth together as Severus rubbed the potion into the several bite marks, and he felt the injured skin fizzle and burn as the wounds closed and healed. Harry panted through his teeth and clenched the sheets around him as he endured the pain. He glared at Severus as the professor finished and closed the jar. He hissed through his teeth, �Bet you�re enjoying this.�

����������� �On the contrary,� Severus argued as he picked up a washcloth and used his wand to soak it. �I am not entirely heartless, Potter. And as it stands, we will have to set aside our differences in the near future if you have any desire of remaining at Hogwarts.�

����������� Severus sat on the edge of the bed and gently took Harry�s hand and began scrubbing the blood away.

����������� �You are allergic to silver, by the way,� Severus added. �That is why you could have a reaction to the potion with silver in it. Any more than a pinch would cause severe reactions. It would feel like your skin was burning right off if you had enough contact with it. Did you not see that in all your research.�

����������� �I think I glossed over what works against werewolves and focused on what controls them�without killing them. The information grew a little slim in that department.�

����������� �I can imagine. Unfortunately for you, there is a lot of prejudice against werewolves in wizarding society. Your journey forward will not be an easy one.�

����������� �Tell me about it,� Harry muttered. He waited as Severus finished cleaning his hand before dipping his finger in another salve, which healed the broken nail and pending infection. After everything was finished, Harry felt a lot better than he did when he woke up that morning, and he rested his hands in his lap. �What�s going to happen to me?�

����������� Severus was quiet as he set aside the tray of potions and jars.

����������� �You will not be returning to your relatives,� Severus said.

����������� Harry�s head snapped up at that.

����������� �Really? I mean, I get why, so it makes sense.�

����������� �Would you want to go back?� Severus asked, and Harry frowned at the odd question, then he realized something.

����������� �Madam Pomfrey did the health exam, didn�t she?�

����������� �You avoided answering the question.�

����������� �So did you.�

����������� Harry met Severus�s eyes as they stared silently at each other for a minute, then Severus sighed heavily.

����������� �We have a lot to discuss,� Severus said as he stood up. �For now, the headmaster has decided to assign you a temporary guardian who is capable of providing Wolfsbane and a place of shelter on Full Moon nights until a more permanent solution can be found. In the meantime, you will continue on with school as you have.�

����������� �I can stay?� Harry asked with a grin.

����������� �There was never an option of you not staying at Hogwarts.� Severus waved his hand and a tray of a Full English breakfast appeared. He set the tray down in front of Harry, who frowned at all the food.

����������� �I can�t eat all of that,� Harry said.

����������� �I think you�ll surprise yourself,� Severus said. �Besides, as ordered by Madam Pomfrey, you are required to gain one stone before the year is up. So I suggest you eat as much of this as you can. I will return with a uniform for you while you do so.�

����������� Harry took a bite of toast, and he felt his stomach growl angrily. He was actually pretty famished, and he took another bite of the toast before he was even finished with the first bite. He hummed appreciatively. Severus watched him for a moment before he turned to leave.

����������� �Wait,� Harry called to his professor.

����������� Severus paused just at the door, turning to raise a brow at Harry.

����������� �You said I�ve been assigned a temporary guardian. Who is it, sir?�

����������� Severus seemed to take in a deep breath before he answered, �Me.�

����������� Harry�s jaw dropped at the same time as his toast did, and Severus took his stunned silence as a chance to leave the room. �

 

Severus splashed water on his face several times in the infirmary bathroom. He leaned heavily over the sink counter, taking deep breaths. His conversation with Harry had amped up his anxiety, though why? He wasn�t sure. Harry wasn�t a werewolf now, but perhaps knowing he had been mere moments ago was not helping his mental state. For the twentieth time in a twelve-hour span, Severus questioned whether he really could follow through with even a temporary guardianship over a werewolf child. He reminded his brain that he wasn�t being prejudiced, just wary and conscientious of his own sanity.

����������� While Severus did not want to be so affected by werewolves for the rest of his life, he wasn�t entirely sure what might ease some of his post-traumatic stress symptoms. Regardless, it was not something to tackle today. Right now, he had a ward waiting to discuss the terms of their arrangement and what the future will hold as far as his monthly shifting goes. Severus dried his face with a towel before stepping out of the bathroom, looking through the one-way mirror at Harry.

����������� The teenager had managed to devour the entire plate of food and was staring down at the dishware as of contemplating licking the dish clean. Instead, Harry set it aside and looked around the room, his eyes straying to meet Severus�s, though Severus knew Harry couldn�t see him. Somehow, with the instincts of a predator, Harry knew he was being watched. It must be an eerie sensation, along with all his other senses heightened to max input, the child must find himself overwhelmed often. How he endured the last month through all the changes alone was an incredible feat in Severus�s book.

����������� As he stood there contemplating how to go about the guardianship, Poppy stepped out of her office and stood next to Severus, checking on Harry before smiling at Severus.

����������� �He�s a good lad,� she said. �But what he needs the most right now is someone he can trust to help guide him through these next few years as he adapts to the harsh world of the werewolf.�

����������� Severus closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

����������� �I don�t know if I can be that person for him.�

����������� �Don�t try to be that person,� Poppy said, and when Severus frowned at her, her smile grew as she turned her eyes on Harry. �Just be there. That�s all you have to do.�

����������� Severus nodded, then watched as Poppy stepped into the room and gave Harry a look over, making sure every inch of skin was healed save for the jagged scars from his bite. When Poppy seemed satisfied, she began discussing several potions that she pulled out of her robe, and Severus stepped into the room as well to hear what was being discussed.

����������� �These potions are essential to correct many of the nutritional deficiencies you have, so you must take them twice daily for the next three months. We will see where you are at before you head home for the summer. The potions should also help you put on some weight, and honestly your condition may assist with that now as well.�

����������� �Really?� Harry asked with a frown.

����������� �Werewolves have very advanced and accelerated healing.� Poppy examined Harry�s right wrist, tilting it this way and that before performing a small spell on it. �Your wrist was fractured at some point during your childhood, and it�s put your hand out of alignment. When I examined it last night, it was only about thirty-five percent healed. Today, it is nearly fifty percent healed. With time, your wrist will heal completely on its own with no other interventions.�

����������� Harry studied his right wrist, rubbing a hand over it thoughtfully.

����������� �Which brings up the question,� Severus said, �how did you fracture it to begin with?�

����������� Harry looked up at Severus, holding his gaze for a few minutes, then shrugged his shoulder.

����������� �One more potion for you, dearie,� Poppy said, pulling out one last vial. �It�s a health restorative potion. Not good for any long-term deficiencies that need slow corrections like minerals and vitamins, but it will help restore tissue and muscle to their fullest potential. This should reverse any damage that may remain from any concussions you may have had.� �

����������� �Thanks,� Harry muttered softly.

����������� �You are free to head out once you are dressed in your uniform and robe,� Poppy said, waving her hand to summon the needed items a house elf had delivered to her earlier. Poppy turned and stepped out of the room, leaving Harry with Severus. �����������

����������� �Take your potions,� Severus said, nodding at the vials in question.

����������� Harry hesitated, then reached over for the three vials sitting on the nightstand. One by one, he quickly downed them, then grabbed his glass of juice and chugged the rest of it down. Then, he looked at Severus expectantly.

����������� �Once you are dressed, you will follow me to my quarters. I will show you where you will stay during the full moons from now on. We will also discuss the week leading up to the full moon and you will follow those instructions to the letter. There will be no repeat of last night, is that understood?�

����������� �Yes, sir,� Harry said.

����������� Severus sighed through his nose before nodding once and stepping out of the room to give Harry privacy, canceling the one-way mirror charm so the room was completely enclosed. He leaned against the wall, dragging his hand down his face as he thought over what he wanted to say to Harry. He tried not to think about how he was the guardian of a young werewolf and reminded himself that Harry was an innocent victim in all of this. This was a mistake that could have been prevented had the foolish headmaster learned from his past mistakes the first time.

����������� When Harry stepped out of the room, Severus pushed off the wall immediately and gestured for Harry to follow him. The quicker they finished this discussion the better. There was silence on the walk down to Severus�s quarters, and Severus was thankful for that as he put together a small speech in his head, rehearsing the words he wanted to use to make sure Harry understood every order clearly. As they arrived to his door in the dungeons, Severus paused, resting his hand on the knob before he turned and gave Harry a stern look.

����������� �The door will be spelled to open for you,� Severus said. �Besides the week of the full moon, you are . . . welcome to come down to these quarters should you . . . deem it necessary. Do not abuse that privilege by bringing your fellow Gryffindor friends into these rooms whenever you please.�

����������� �Like I�d want to,� Harry muttered at the top of his shoes.

����������� �Potter,� Severus growled in a low warning tone.

����������� �Yes, sir,� Harry said, looking up at Severus. �I won�t abuse the privilege.�

����������� �Indeed,� he said. He opened the door to his quarters and held it open for Harry, waiting for the child to step in.

����������� Harry hesitated, then slowly stepped through the doorway and scanned the new scenery. The room was decorated in warm and earthy colors, with a brown sofa and matching armchair seated in front of a cold fireplace. Just past the seating area was the small kitchenette with an island and bar stools pushed just underneath the countertop. To his right was a door ajar, revealing what looked like a spacious room and the edge of a queen-sized bed. Bookshelves surrounded a nook with a window revealing the bright sunny day outside, which must have been a spell. Beneath the window was a desk littered with stacks of parchment and several quills and ink stands. There was a door in the back of the room, and Harry froze.

����������� Severus closed the door behind him, leaning back against it as he watched Harry take everything in. He noticed Harry freeze up when he saw the closed door in the back of his quarters, the latest addition to his living space. Even now, Severus was always amazed at how willing the castle was to expand and provide more room for its occupants.

����������� �I believe,� Severus began slowly, �that everything is rather self-explanatory. The living space, kitchen, that is my desk, do not let me catch you snooping around it�and this is my bedroom, another place I better never catch you snooping in. However, the rest of the space is fair game, and you are allowed to borrow any book from the bookshelves as long as you return them to their proper place and take care of them.�

����������� Harry nodded.

����������� Severus stepped around him and led the way over to the closed door. Harry swallowed dryly before following Severus.
����������� �This will be your room,� Severus said, then he opened the door.

����������� Harry sucked in a breath as he stepped inside. There was a full, four-poster bed in the bedroom, along with a desk just to the left of the bed and a dark, ornate wardrobe across from it on the opposite wall. There was a door to the left, Harry opened it to find an attached bathroom, a small thing with a loo, sink, and a deep bathtub with an overhead shower and curtain.

����������� �This is all for me?� Harry asked.

����������� A sarcastic reply was Severus�s first instinct, but he held his tongue for a second and instead said, �Yes. The headmaster spelled the castle to build an additional space for you.�

����������� �This is where I will stay on full moon nights?�

����������� �Unfortunately, no,� Severus said. Harry spun around looking at him with a confused face. �We needed something secure�magically and physically.�

����������� �A locked bedroom isn�t secure enough?� Harry glared at Severus.

����������� �A locked office wasn�t,� Severus shot back.

����������� Harry blushed and looked down at his shoes.

����������� �While the headmaster may be a tad slower at it, we do try to learn from our mistakes. This is for the protection of the students and staff in this school, yes, but it is also for your protection as well, Potter. The world of the werewolf is not kind nor forgiving, no matter how docile you are with the Wolfsbane on board. If anyone gets a sneaking suspicion of what you are, they may try to track you down and kill you.�

����������� �I was in a room in the infirmary,� Harry said.

����������� �Yes, with two very capable wizards on guard nearby to make sure you stayed contained and that no one found out what lay hidden behind the wall. Speaking of which.� Severus moved to the right side of the bedroom and tapped on the wall with three knocks high and two knocks low.

����������� There was a low rumble as a crack split itself down the middle of the wall, then slowly parted ways to reveal a spacious opening behind the wall. Harry stepped closer and leaned against the wall to peer into the room. It reminded him of a cold dungeon, a simple space about twice the size of his new bedroom with cold stone floors, a window spelled to reveal the outside sky, and then a whole lot of nothing. It was a cage.

����������� �No,� Harry said, backing away from it. �No, I don�t want to be locked away. I don�t want to be caged.�

����������� Severus was surprised by Harry�s reaction as he watched the child back away, stumbling into the chair at his desk and tripping over it, falling to the floor.

����������� �It�s not a cage,� he tried to reason, stepping after Harry slowly as the child back crawled away and panted heavily, staring wide eyed at the room specially made for him. Severus frowned in concern. �It�s just another room. Highly secured and warded and very well hidden, but not a cage.�

����������� �It�s empty,� Harry muttered, stumbling to stand up and falling down again, his eyes never leaving the room. �It�s cold. I don�t want to go in there, please don�t put me in there.�

����������� �Calm down. You�re working yourself up into a panic.� Severus reached out a hand toward Harry, then decided against it and instead kneeled in front of Harry, placing himself directly in Harry�s field of vision to block the sight of the room behind him. He placed a finger on his lips. �Shh. Quiet down. Look at me.�

����������� Harry�s eyes flickered to Severus�s before shooting back to stare at the room.

����������� �Hey!� Severus snapped his fingers, gaining Harry�s attention once more. �Don�t look at that. Look at me.�

����������� Harry forced his eyes to stay on Severus, but he still gasped for air.

����������� �Good,� Severus praised. �Let�s take some deep breaths now. Copy what I do. Breathe in.� Severus slowly breathed in through his mouth, watching as Harry struggled to copy him. �Now breathe out.� Severus slowly let out a breath, Harry following along.

����������� �Again. Breathe in. Breathe out. Through your nose now. As I do. Breathe in. Now out. Breathe in. Out. In. And out. Good job.�

����������� Harry closed his eyes as he kept slowly breathing on his own for a few minutes. Severus waited, allowing Harry to regain his composure. When Harry opened his eyes, Severus quirked a brow.

����������� �I�m sorry, I�m better, now,� Harry said. �Thank you, sir.�

����������� �Quite a strong reaction. This is not a cage, Potter. It is simply another room no different than this one.�

����������� �I know. I guess, my first impression of it . . . it�s so empty and not as warm and inviting as the rest of your quarters and . . .�

����������� �Glad to hear my quarters are warm and inviting, as you put it,� Severus said. He stood up, then offered a hand to pull Harry to his feet, and the child accepted the help. �The room is not complete. The headmaster wanted to fill in the space with Merlin knows what, but it will not look like this come the full moon. Hopefully, it will seem like less of a cage and more like a nice place to sleep by then.�

����������� �Will I have to go in alone?�

����������� Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. The question was whispered, and he had nearly missed it had he not been so focused on the panicked child in front of him.

����������� �That would be ideal. Who would you want in there with you? You know how risky that is to have any guests near a transformed werewolf.�

����������� �I know, I just . . . I don�t really want to be alone and with the wolfsbane on board, I shouldn�t be a threat, right?�

����������� �Theoretically,� Severus agreed. �But I do not think it�s been tested with humans in the immediate vicinity. I do not think it wise to push one�s luck and try to fix something that is not broken. You will be in the room alone yes, but I will be right on the other side. This is all with your safety in mind, it�s not to torment you or bring out your fears.�

����������� Harry stared down at his shoes, refusing to look up and risk a glance at the room.

����������� �What if I can�t do it?�

����������� Severus sighed.

����������� �We�ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, as the room is fixed up for you, I�ll have you come down and check it out now and then so you can get used to it. I promise you it will be better. And so you are informed, the week of the full moon, you will live down here for the week. I want to ensure that you take every dose this time. If you obey and do as you are told, perhaps the following month, we�ll try having you come to me to get your dose as we did before. Right now, I do not have the trust nor faith in you that you will comply.�

����������� �I�m sorry, sir,� Harry said, sounding a bit more like himself. �But I understand.�

����������� �Yes, well,� Severus said, pausing awkwardly for a moment as he struggled internally with where to take the conversation next. �As your temporary guardian, I assume all . . . hmm, parental responsibilities, and that includes your overall wellbeing. I will make sure your potions are brewed to the highest standards, including your nutritional potions and especially your Wolfsbane, and I will make sure you are up to Madam Pomfrey�s standards health-wise. As for school, only the heads of houses, Madam Pomfrey, and the headmaster know of the change in guardianship. It will be best to keep this quiet for now. If word gets to the Ministry about this change, they will look into it, and we do not want them to find out about your turning. Their intervention would prove . . . unhelpful.�

����������� Harry nodded in agreement.

����������� �You will be expected to keep your grades up,� Severus said. �I know this is a lot of change to go through, so you�ve had some leeway for this last month, but that ends now. You have the help you need; you have a plan in action, you have people you can go to should you need help with anything, myself and Madam Pomfrey especially.�

����������� Severus paused and watched Harry for moment, but the child was not looking at him.

����������� �I understand that this can be overwhelming. Your life has been flipped upside down then ravaged like a tornado�s gone through it all. I cannot fix what has been done, but I can help get you back on the right path and help you through this trauma. I know I am not your first choice in a guardian, and I know we�ve had our differences, but we must put those aside and work together to get past this.�

����������� Harry�s face was tight, and he chewed his lips as if trying hard to prevent himself from crying, his eyes red and wet but no tears fell. He nodded his head but didn�t say anything. Severus sighed, then decided it was time to break from his discussion.

����������� �Here�s what I�d like you to do. You missed two days of classes in your little excursion. Go to your professors, pick up your missed homework, and come back here to work on it. I will help you wherever you need it and make sure you are caught up with your classmates. After that, you may return to your dorm.�

����������� �Yes, sir.�

����������� �Return within the hour. You are dismissed.�

����������� Severus watched Harry leave the bedroom quickly, and he took several moments to practice slowly breathing himself. He was not cut out for this. Teaching students was one thing. Maintaining order in his house was one thing. This? Taking care of a child every need full time? This was way out of his league.

 

��������������

�Monster, how should I feel?

Creatures lie here

Looking through the window.�

-        �Monster� Meg & Dia

 

����������� He could hear the growling and howling thundering in his ears while the pounding of his heart rushed by his eardrums in loud whooshes. Harry took several deep breaths as he stared at the DADA office door, frowning at the sight of it. He had not been near this door since . . . his incident. Yet, he needed to get his homework and return to Snape�s quarters soon as his hour to collect any missed assignments was almost up. This was his last stop, and he wasn�t sure if he would be able to step any closer to the door.

����������� His dilemma was solved when the door suddenly opened, and Professor Huntington stepped out of the office only to pause at the sight of Harry.

����������� �Oh, hello, Mr. Potter,� Huntington greeted amicably. �Anything I can help you with?�

����������� �Err, I need to know if there were any assignments I missed the last class period.�

����������� �Ah, Madam Pomfrey informed me you had fallen ill the other day,� Huntington said with a nod. �Sick excuses are of no concern, otherwise, I was afraid I would have had to dock a full day�s worth of points on your grade. That would not have been favorble for you. Come in, come in. I�ll check my notes for your class to see if I assigned something.�

����������� Huntington walked back into his office, still talking away while Harry stared at the opened door with apprehension. Slowly, he urged his legs to walk forward, and he felt his heart quicken as he stepped into the room, his breathing heavy and sweat beading on his forehead. The snarling in his ears grew louder, and his head spun as he followed the professor to the desk in the very center of the room�except, it wasn�t the same desk he had hidden under nearly thirty days prior.

����������� The room had changed a lot from the way Professor Lupin had arranged it, and the changes were not lost on Harry as the snarling in his head died down and his heart slowed pace. The desk was a much larger, elegantly carved and antique-looking piece of wood, dark in tone. The throne-like chair behind it had red velvet cushioning. The shelves were littered with different objects: horns, feathers, organ parts floating in a bubbling liquid, even mirrors that glowed an eerie silver. When Harry stepped closer to one hanging on the wall, the face of a banshee flashed before him, and he jumped back with a startled cry.

�What�s that?� Huntington asked, looking up from where he was shuffling through parchment on his desk. �Oh, yes, be mindful of some of my trinkets over there, Mr. Potter. They are not all suitable for a young wizard with your limited expertise. Come over here, I think I found my book with your year�s information.�

Harry frowned as he realized many of the items on the shelves were parts of a creature, dark or light, and were nestled on the shelves like trophies. He slowly made his way toward the desk, keeping close to the shelves as he studied the many different objects the professor appeared to have collected over the years. There were also items like knives, swords, and a whip-like item all on some kind of display, the metal objects glistening in the sunlight streaming in from the window.

He was about to turn toward the professor when he sucked in a deep breath and froze, his eyes widening.

Hanging on the wall, just to the right of the shelves, there was a large, tawny werewolf fur pelt with the head still attached, the eyes staring up dully at the ceiling.

Harry backed up several paces, backing right up into Huntington. He jumped away from the professor, who was giving him an amused look.

�Don�t worry,� Huntington said, flashing a smile at Harry. He gestured to the wolf pelt. �That beast can�t hurt anyone anymore. Slayed it myself. It was terrorizing a small muggle town for months before I showed up and saved the day. The muggles were most appreciative.�

����������� It all made sense now, Harry thought as he took a few steps away from Huntington. The new professor was a monster hunter, a monster killer�that was why he had all these body parts and pelts hanging around�they were trophies.

����������� �Are you okay, Mr. Potter?� Huntington asked. �You�ve gone a bit pale. Perhaps you are not completely well yet.�

����������� �Yeah,� Harry agreed. �I�m still feeling a little . . . sick.�

����������� �Perhaps you should go lie down for the afternoon?� Huntington held out a slip of parchment. �Here. I�ve written down the homework I�ve assigned your class. Take your time to complete it; there�s no need to stress yourself over it.�

����������� Goosebumps crawled up Harry�s back as he stared at the parchment offered. He bit his lip before taking a single step forward, which got him close enough to snatch the slip away and retreat back a step once more.

����������� �Thank you, sir,� Harry said as he walked backwards. �I have to . . . err, I have to go. I�ll be late.�

����������� Harry turned and ran out of the classroom, leaving a confused DADA professor behind.

 

����������� After spending a long afternoon catching up on all of his classes and having Severus review each assignment, he had been given the all clear to return to his dormitory with his completed assignments, and Harry was relieved to be free of his Potions Master. Not that Severus had been terrible as he revised his homework, it was just weird to Harry that the professor really seemed to be trying to be . . . well, he really didn�t have a word for it. UnSnape-like was the best he could come up with. However, if Severus was to be his new guardian here on out, Harry much preferred this version of the man than the irate person he knew Severus could be. Harry�s thoughts were interrupted as he ran right into Ron and Hermione when he walked into the common room of his tower.

����������� �Where have you been?� Hermione asked frantically after hugging Harry. �We�ve been worried, and all the headmaster would tell us was that you were ill.�

����������� �And Madam Pomfrey wouldn�t even let us visit,� Ron said. �We didn�t even see you there.�

����������� Harry swallowed dryly as he fought with his brain over what to say to his friends: to lie or tell the truth. He trusted his friends with his life, and he knew they would never turn on him. Or at least, he prayed they would never turn away and abandon him over something he could not control. He glanced around the common room cautiously.

����������� �Not here,� he said. �Follow me.�

����������� Harry led the way to his dormitory, and after making sure there was no one else inside, he sat down between Ron and his beds, crisscrossing on the floor, and Ron and Hermione followed his lead.

����������� It was hard to begin, but once he started telling the story, he couldn�t stop, nor could he stop the tears that started welling in his eyes. He stubbornly wiped the tears away, refusing to cry anymore than he already had. Once he had shared his horrific tale with his friends, Ron was frowning in concern, his face pale and tight, while Hermione was openly crying for Harry.

����������� �I�m so sorry, Harry,� Hermione said. �I should have said something earlier, but I thought he was doing everything right.�

����������� �What are talking about?� Harry asked with a frown, and Ron turned to give Hermione a confused look as well.

����������� �I knew he was a werewolf,� Hermione confessed through her tears. �Ever since Snape substituted the class and taught us about werewolves, I realized Professor Lupin was one, but I also read about all the prejudice they faced and it seemed like everything was going well for him�he had to be taking the potion and keeping quiet at night�I never thought something like this would happen! This is my fault.�

����������� �No, it�s not,� Harry said. He was surprised Hermione even knew of Remus�s secret, but he was not about to blame her for not coming forward with it. �This is my fault, Hermione, I shouldn�t have been wandering at night, and I shouldn�t have unlocked his door. None of this would never have happened if I hadn�t been so stupid.�

����������� �Or if a werewolf had never been hired,� Ron added. �As much as I like Lupin, hiring a werewolf in a boarding school is just really risky. Is that why Lupin was sacked?�

����������� �I don�t think he was fired,� Harry mumbled. �I think he left on his own.�

����������� �Probably for the best. Obviously, something like this can happen again, and no one wants that. At least you�ve got a steady supply of Wolfsbane coming your way, but what are you going to do on full moon nights.�

����������� �Go down to my new guardian and stay in his place,� Harry said. �In a locked room behind an enchanted wall.�

����������� �A new guardian?� Hermione frowned. �Who is your new guardian?�

����������� �Temporary guardian. Professor Snape is my new temporary guardian.�

����������� Ron winced at that.

����������� �Blimey, that�s rough, mate. Talk about a horrible case of bad luck.�

����������� �He hasn�t been that awful, actually,� Harry said. �I almost had a panic attack when I saw the room I�m supposed to stay in on full moon nights but he calmed me down and helped work me out of it. He was decent when I worked on catching up on my missed assignments too. I think he�s really trying to be . . . I don�t know, a good guardian, I guess?�

����������� �At least it�s only temporary,� Ron said. �Is the headmaster looking for a better guardian for you in the meantime?�

����������� Harry shrugged. He wasn�t sure what anyone was doing where he was concerned, and that thought freaked him out a little. Where would they send him off to? What if his new guardian was worse than the Dursleys? What if the person they found hated werewolves? Or what if they were too afraid of him to handle keeping him around? He pushed those thoughts away and wrapped his arms around his knees.

����������� �Well, I hope they find someone good for you,� Ron said with a shrug of his own.

����������� �But Harry,� Hermione began, frowning once more. �How is the headmaster sure you won�t bite anyone? Not that I want you to leave the school or anything, but Professor Lupin slipped and hurt you. And he�s had years to learn to control himself and stay on top of his potions and stuff. You�re new to all this and, well, what exactly is the plan?�

����������� �I guess the plan is for me not to do this alone,� Harry said. �That�s why Snape is going to help me, even when I do get a new guardian. He�ll stay on top of everything and make sure I do exactly what I�m supposed to.�

����������� �Maybe having someone else help will keep everyone safe,� Hermione said. �I mean, werewolves are still wolves, essentially. They thrive in packs. Maybe Snape is exactly what you need.�

����������� �Don�t say that!� Ron exclaimed. �Snape�s been nothing but awful to us for the last three years. Bet he was forced into helping Harry. He�s just waiting for him to slip up so he can finally expel him. You be careful Harry. We�ll help you make sure you follow any rules the headmaster gives you and that you never hurt anyone. We�ll be your pack.�

����������� �Thanks,� Harry said softly, smiling at his friends. He wasn�t really sure what to make of Severus�s behavior as of late, but deep inside, he hoped that the professor wasn�t looking for an excuse to have him expelled. If there was ever a reason for it, now was the perfect time. He was a messy, bloody accident waiting to happen. ��

 

����������� A week later, the entirety of Gryffindor house waited in the common room anxiously while the entire castle was searching for Sirius Black. Somehow, he had managed to slip by Sir Cadogan after reading off a list of the entire week�s passwords for the house, and Ron woke up screaming at the sight of Black standing over him with a knife. It was only nearing dawn, but the house could not sleep knowing Sirius Black had been so close. However, Professor McGonagall returned to inform everyone that Sirius Black had managed to slip away again, and then told everyone they should all try to get some more sleep.

����������� Sleep was the last thing on anyone�s mind. It turned into a long night of fitful rest and tossing and turning until it was time for breakfast. Ron had become an instant celebrity and was more than eager to share with anyone who asked about his encounter with Black. He seemed to enjoy the attention, and Harry was glad to have that attention off him, especially as he was still acclimating to his new gifts of heightened senses and newfound strength.

����������� A visit with Hagrid revealed that poor Buckbeak had a trial coming up with the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, and the thought of such a committee existing sent chills down his back, and Harry thought back to Huntington�s office.

����������� �You don�t think Huntington works for that department, do you?� Harry asked Hagrid.

����������� �The new professor?� Hagrid asked. �I don� think so. The Committee is more of a desk job, though there is an executioner, but he been workin� for the Committee fer years an� still is. Why do you ask?�

����������� �Just wondering.�

����������� �Last I heard, Huntington was a traveling researcher in the field of Dark Studies and the defense against them. Not sure what else he may have done fer work, but he was more than qualified fer the job accordin� to the Headmaster.�

����������� �I see. Thanks.�

����������� �Why are you asking about Huntington?� Hermione asked. �Honestly, he�s not so bad. He might just be the next best professor we�ll have.�

����������� �Oh, nothing. Like I said, just wondering.�

����������� After bidding goodbye to Hagrid and Buckbeak and wishing them both good luck, the trio walked back inside, only to run directly into Severus.

����������� �After the most recent sighting of Sirius Balck,� Severus said, crossing his arms at the trio, �I would think you three would take more precautions in your whereabouts.�

����������� �Hagrid walked us to the entrance,� Ron said. �We weren�t alone.�

����������� Severus narrowed his eyes at the trio before sighing and unfolding his arms.

����������� �Potter, I need to speak with you in my office.� Without another word, the professor turned with a sweep of his robes.

����������� Ron rolled his eyes at the dramatics while Hermione elbowed him and gave him a look. Harry gave his friends an apologetic look before he ran after the professor to catch up to him, then had to speed walk after him to keep up. When they arrived at the Severus�s office, Severus was quick to grab a vial off his desk and hand it over to Harry.

����������� �You forgot to take this at breakfast,� Severus said. �You know you are required to take these twice daily for the next few months. They appear at your mealtimes, we can�t possibly make them any easier for you to take.�

����������� �Right, sorry,� Harry said. It was the nutrient potion to help his deficiencies, and he accepted the vial. �I was a bit . . . distracted this morning after last night.�

����������� �Forgetting is not allowed,� Severus said. �You must learn to stay on top of all the potions you are required to take. This one may not be so debilitating, but one of another kind may just be the difference between life and death.�

����������� Harry took the potion, which allowed him to avoid saying anything. He thought back to what his friends had said about having someone else assisting him in staying on top of his required potions, and he figured it really wasn�t such a bad thing. �

����������� �How are you feeling, Potter?� Severus asked suddenly.

����������� �Huh?� Harry asked once he swallowed the potion. That was not a question he had expected to hear from Severus.

����������� Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at it as if there was an irritating itch he could not get rid of.

����������� �A deranged murderer made it into the castle last night and was hovering over a bed not three feet away from you with a knife and you question why I ask how you are feeling?�

����������� �Oh. I�m okay. He was gone before I was even fully awake.�

����������� �Are you sure?�

����������� Of all the concerns in his head, Sirius Black was the least of his problems, though a very real threat that remained in his life on top of everything else he had been through. However, while Sirius Black may have been able to break into Gryffindor Tower, Harry�s perceived threat of Black was pretty low as the man was always out of sight and so, out of mind. However, the secrecy of the wolf he had become was now at the top of his mind, along with the discovery that the new DADA professor may not be overly fond of werewolves. Harry wasn�t sure what he was supposed to be more afraid of: Black, Huntington, or himself.

����������� �I must say,� Severus continued as he took the empty vial back from Harry, �your silence speaks volumes. What is on your mind?�

����������� Harry hesitated, then said, �Buckbeak is going on trial for what happened at the start of the year with Malfoy. He might be executed because of it, but it wasn�t even his fault.�

����������� Severus sighed heavily through his nose as he studied Harry, his eyes narrowing slightly and his lips thinned. Harry had that strange feeling that somehow this man was reading his mind, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. Maybe if he didn�t make eye contact, Severus wouldn�t see the millions of questions and fears running through his head.

����������� �I find it hard to believe,� Severus said, �that a hippogriff�s potential execution is your main concern at the moment. However, I�ll play along�for now. Regardless of the outcome the Committee agrees upon, I am sure everything will work itself out in Buckbeak�s favor. Now, I would like to discuss Sirius Black. As I�m sure you are aware, Black was able to sneak in the castle with a list of passwords left carelessly lying around by one of your housemates. I�ve been informed that Longbottom is not allowed to know any passwords going forward, but other security is being instilled in the castle after this recent attack.�

����������� �Like what?�

����������� �The Fat Lady�s portrait will be returned to the tower�s entrance. Obviously, the current portrait has no sense in keeping out intruders despite them having a list of passwords or not. Professor Flitwick is adding enchantments to the front doors as we speak to keep out Sirius Black, and Mr. Filch is doing his best to board up any loose ends around the hospital. Security trolls have been hired to guard the Fat Lady�s portrait, one of the stipulations of her return, I�m afraid.�

����������� �Trolls?� Harry asked. �Like the thing I fought in my first year?�

����������� �Don�t get any ideas.� Severus gave Harry a mild glare. �These ones have had some more training than the blundering monstrosity you encountered before. They will not harm you. They�ve been shown pictures of Black and will only attack if they see him.�

����������� �I guess that makes me feel a little better,� Harry said, hoping to appease Severus and get out of the conversation.

����������� �I want to reiterate the importance of keeping yourself safe by obeying all of Hogwarts rules. There is no roaming around the castle freely or leaving the safety of the castle alone.�

����������� �Yes, sir.�

����������� �The dementors still guard the school grounds, so it would be in your best interest to stay within the school as much as possible.�

����������� �That reminds me,� Harry said, �Remus was giving me lessons on the Patronus charm. I still haven�t figured it out yet and what if they come close to the school again unexpectantly?�

����������� �While Lupin has resigned, he has not left the area yet that I know of. I believe he may still be interested in continuing his lessons with you.�

����������� �With Remus?� Harry�s eyes widened and he shook his head as he took a few steps back. �He�s still here?�

����������� Severus gave Harry a curious look.

����������� �He is around. Planning out his next move, I�m sure. I believe he may also wish to speak with you.�

����������� �No, I don�t want to speak to him.� Harry backed up a few more steps toward the office door.

����������� �Do not leave yet,� Severus said. �I understand your fears, Potter. He put you through a traumatic event, it is no surprise you have no desire to see him. You had brought him up, so I assumed you were perhaps in a forgiving place. I would understand if you never wanted to see him again.�

����������� �I don�t . . .� Harry shrugged and shook his head. �I don�t want to see him right now.�

����������� Harry had no clue how seeing Remus might affect him. He could barely walk into the man�s old office without a borderline panic attack, forget meeting face to face. His heart was thundering in his chest at the very thought of it. He didn�t even notice Severus walking toward him until the professor was right in front of him.

����������� �He will keep his distance as long as you need it,� Severus said. �Calm down. No one is forcing you to do anything you do not want to do. If you would like, I can take over teaching you the Patronus charm.�

����������� �Really?� Harry turned stunned eyes to Severus. �You would do that?�

����������� �I feel you are far too young to master the spell fully,� Severus said, quirking a brow, �but you have surprised me before. If you show me you are putting one hundred percent into the lessons, I will continue working with you on them. I do not want to waste my limited time trying to teach you something you are not actually interested in.�

����������� �I�ll pay attention, sir!�

����������� �Good. Then I will make time in my schedule to accommodate these lessons. I will let you know when your first one will be.�

����������� �Thank you, sir!�

����������� �Think nothing of it,� Severus said, waving his hand dismissively. �It is a useful charm to know. You are dismissed. Do not forget your nutrient potion again or I will drag you back down to this office to feed it to you.�

����������� �Yes, sir,� Harry said with a smile.

����������� As he left the office, closing the door gently behind him, Harry had a strange, unknown feeling in his chest, something new mixing with all the fear and worries, but it was drowned out by the stronger emotions, and Harry frowned as he walked away from Severus�s office, feeling as though he should have spoken up more about what was really going on in his head. ���

�����������

�����������

����������� The wolf paced the office . . . panting and growling . . . back and forth . . . claws scraped the hard floor with a chill-sending screech . . . back and forth . . . Harry was trapped under the desk, listening to every snarl and snuff from the beast hunting him . . . the rustle of paper falling from the desk as the wolf brushed too close to it made Harry�s heart jump to his throat . . . he needed to run . . . he crawled out from under the desk . . . canines flashed before his eyes as a howl cut through the night . . .

����������� Harry gasped and sat up in his bed. He grasped the warm sheets around him desperately as he looked around the room wildly, his eyes wide and his breaths heavy. Starlight that managed to reach through the window offered little to reveal the dark dorm room where his roommates shifted in their beds or snored softly against their pillows, but there was no shadow or movement of any wolves looking to attack him. It had just been a dream. Nothing more.

����������� Harry collapsed into his pillow as he continued to catch his breath. It had been over a month and half now since the attack, and for some reason, his dreams were not letting him forget what had happened. The past couple weeks had been nothing but nightmares every night, and he could never fall back to sleep afterwards, so he stared at the ceiling in defeat for a few minutes before he grabbed his wand and cast a gentle illuminating spell and pulled a textbook off his nearby nightstand and opened it to a marked page. Pulling out some parchment, he decided he might as well as work on his Charms homework while he waited for the morning light.

����������� When it was time for breakfast, Harry joined his dormmates at their table, and he nibbled on toast while he contemplated what he would do for the day. Everyone would be leaving the castle for a Hogsmeade trip, and he would be stuck in the castle again. The first time he had snuck out to Hogsmeade had nearly ended in a close call, and the second time had nearly landed him in hot water with Severus, and he was quite glad that the professor had not been his guardian then. Perhaps it would not be wise to attempt sneaking out again.

����������� Speaking of Severus, Harry glanced over at the head table, and he was not surprised that his new guardian was watching him, and their eyes met briefly. Severus inclined his head slightly, his eyes moving off Harry and to the goblet full of nutrient potion slop waiting for him to drink. Harry got the message and picked up the goblet, taking a sip of the slightly bitter and tart drink. Only twice had he nearly forgotten to take the potion in the last couple of weeks�and each time, when he tried to leave the table, he found himself stuck to his seat with a sticking charm. He had glared daggers at the head table as he chugged the potion down, and Severus had only glared back until the potion was gone, then he lifted the charm.

����������� At least he had been better about remembering to take his potion. Harry set the goblet down and returned to nibbling his toast absently, watching his friends bicker about their stupid pets. Scabbers was absent again and Crookshanks was being blamed once more. Harry nearly rolled his eyes at their petty behavior, but he was quickly distracted by movement on his own plate.

����������� He paused in eating the slice of toast and watched a bit dumbfounded as a bowl settled itself on his plate. The serving dish of porridge hovered close and the ladle scooped out a hearty serving before settling back down on the table. Strawberries and blueberries flew off the fruit tray and arranged themselves in the center of the porridge while a spoonful of honey drizzled over the dish. Finally, a spoon hopped up to the bowl and everything finally stopped moving.

����������� Harry�s head snapped back to the head table, and Severus arched a brow at him. Harry gestured to the toast in his hand, pointedly taking a large bite of it. Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry and shook his head.

����������� With a sudden realization, Harry casually tried adjusting himself in his seat, and he was not surprised to find himself once again stuck to it with that damn sticking charm. He glared at Severus once more, only for his professor to quirk a brow at him once more.

����������� Defeated, Harry set down his half-eaten toast and took a spoonful of the porridge, glad that it had a nice, sweet flavor and the fruit offered texture. His goblet inched closer to his plate as well, and Harry had to resist the temptation to throw the cup at his persnickety guardian. He held his tongue and picked up the goblet to sip the potion once more, trying to work down as much as he could in one swig before the bitterness made him put it back down. He took another bite of the porridge to drown out the taste before risking a glance at the head table.

����������� He was rewarded with a small nod from Severus, and a warm feeling flooded his chest, and Harry gave the man a small smile in return before he took another bite of his porridge. He wasn�t entirely sure why the small acknowledgement made him feel . . . happy, for lack of better words, but it felt good to have earned Severus�s approval even in the small things as what he ate for breakfast. His appetite had certainly improved with his transformation into a werewolf, but the items he chose to eat were not always approved by Severus. The Dursleys had never cared if he ate at all, and this insistence on eating something healthy and complete was entirely new to Harry, and very annoying some days, but it felt nice to have at the same time.

����������� His friends had missed the entire silent conversation Harry had just had due to their arguments, and Harry gave them annoyed looks while he continued eating. He didn�t realize how much he would enjoy the porridge, and he was practically shoveling food into his mouth.

����������� �Eww, Harry, please,� Hermione nagged when she finally looked at him, her face morphing into one of disgust at the food all over his mouth. �You�re eating like Ron.�

����������� �Hey!� Ron snapped.

����������� �Sorry,� Harry said, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth. �I didn�t think I would like the porridge this much. I�m still getting used to my . . . hunger too, I guess.�

����������� �Well,� Hermione started to say, the disgust fading off her face, �at least put the napkin in your lap. Or maybe even tucked in your shirt. That might be better in your case.�

����������� �I can�t be that bad,� Harry said with a chuckle.

����������� �No complaints over here,� Ron said. �I think this is the best you�ve ever eaten. You could use it anyway. �Why the porridge though? There�s all this better food, like eggs, bacon, and sausage, and . . . honestly, I thought you�d fill your plate up with a lot of meat. Cause . . . you know.�

����������� �Maybe a slice or two,� Harry said, reaching across the table to grab a couple strips of bacon to add to his plate. �But the porridge looked good.�

����������� Harry chanced a glance at the head table, but Severus was in deep conversation with Minerva, and he forced the disappointment down and returned to eating his food. Of course, Severus wasn�t going to watch him all the time.

����������� Hermione had caught what he had done, and she smiled softly at Harry before eating her own porridge.

����������� �Have you tried talking to Snape about letting you come to Hogsmeade?� Ron asked in a whisper. �Now that he�s your . . . you know, maybe you can get your form signed.�

����������� �Are you mental?� Harry asked in a quiet tone himself. �He�s not going to sign it.�

����������� �Why not? Don�t tell me it�s because of Black? You�ll be with us and surrounded by professors. And Dementors swarm the outside of the town, why would Black stick around there?� �

����������� �I doubt he would,� Harry said. �But I can tell you for sure Snape isn�t signing my permission form.�

����������� Harry heard footsteps walking his way, and he could sense the presence behind him before it had even fully stopped walking, so he was not surprised when a deep voice spoke behind him, though Ron did jump a bit in his seat.

����������� �You�d be correct, Mr. Potter,� Severus said.

����������� Harry turned in his seat to face the professor. Severus was standing behind him with his arms crossed and a small sneer on his face.

����������� �And of course,� Severus continued, �There will be no shenanigans of any kind while your friends are off on their Hogsmeade trip.�

����������� �No, sir,� Harry said.

����������� �Well, perhaps we should give our hero some tasks to perform while his friends are away, shall we? Let�s say, reorganizing the supply closet in the potions classroom? Merlin knows the first years make a mess of it.�

����������� Harry frowned at that. He wasn�t serious was he? That was practically a detention. Harry suddenly realized that this was in fact a detention�one to keep him occupied and in Severus�s sight while all the other students went on the trip. This was because Severus still knew that he had successfully snuck out the last time, and he had not actually been punished for it.

����������� �What do you say, Potter? My classroom, eleven-thirty?�

����������� �Like I have choice?� Harry sniped.

����������� �I will see you then,� Severus said.

����������� Severus stalked out of the Great Hall, and to Harry�s relief, the sticking charm had lifted. He adjusted himself on his seat slightly before he glared at the rest of his food and the stupid goblet. He had managed to eat the majority of the porridge, but there was still a small portion of the potion in the cup, and he rebelliously picked up the goblet and dumped out its contents into the porridge, then he shoved the food away. While Severus had not seen the action, Harry felt slightly better at his own retaliation.

����������� �Blimey, you�ve got it rough, mate,� Ron said, wincing in sympathy. �I�ll bring back some extra chocolate frogs for you.�

����������� �Thanks,� Harry said.

����������� Later that morning, after waving goodbye to his friends, Hary headed down to the potions classroom where he found Severus working at his desk grading essays. Harry slowly approached the desk and waited patiently for instruction.

����������� �This is not a detention,� Severus said after a few minutes of scribbling red ink all over an essay. �So it will not appear on your record.�

����������� �Oh good,� Harry said, �I was afraid my unblemished record would be forever tarnished.�

����������� �Mind your cheek,� Severus said with a glare. �As I was saying, while it is not an official detention, I expect you to treat the supplies in that closet with the utmost care and consideration. Everything is labeled in alphabetical order; all you have to do is remove any ingredients that are not where they are supposed to be and place them back where they belong. Sound easy enough for you?�

����������� �If this isn�t a detention, why do I have to do this?� Harry asked.

����������� �Because I said so,� Severus said. �And it keeps you busy and out of trouble, and more importantly, from sneaking off to Hogsmeade. You may have fooled the other professors with your stunt last time, but you have not fooled me. And you were not punished for that escapade, and you can consider this a long overdue detention for your willful disobedience and lies.�

����������� �I didn�t��

����������� �Do not finish that sentence,� Severus growled. �You and I both know you were at Hogsmeade that day. This consequence is more than fair.�

����������� �But it�s not, I wasn�t��

����������� �Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me truthfully that you have not stepped foot in Hogsmeade once since you arrived at school in September?�

����������� Harry met Severus�s eyes, but any argument he had died on his tongue as he stared into the stern dark eyes that dared him to contradict the truth. After a minute, Harry swallowed dryly and shook his head.

����������� �Now we are getting somewhere,� Severus said with a nod. �Go reorganize the supply closet. You will do so until you are dismissed.�

����������� Severus reached across his desk and grabbed a pair of dragonhide gloves.

����������� �You will need these.�

����������� Harry huffed as accepted the gloves, throwing them on as he walked over to the supply closet, then paused in the entryway as he saw the chaos that awaited him. He knew he could sometimes be careless when he rushed into the room to grab the supplies he needed for the day, but he didn�t think he was this careless. But Severus did say the first years were the worst, so perhaps this mess was created by several classes through the day.

����������� He shuffled through the first tray on the top shelf that was just eye level with him. He recognized the plant as aconite, and he shuffled through it to make sure there were no strange plants mixed in with it. While he could recognize some of the ingredients, he wasn�t sure he would be able to identify all of them, and he hesitated as he lifted a few long stems of a very similar-looking plant that he would have called aconite if not for the slightly different shape of the flowers. He set them aside for now, hoping to come across the plant in his work.

����������� He moved slowly through the supply closet, pulling out obvious plants or horns or stones that clearly did not belong in certain places. Some he knew right away and placed those ingredients in the correct tray or holding bin, while others he set off to the side as he could not place what they were exactly, nor could he find a matching tray for some. Once he took care of the supplies he recognized for sure, he hesitated as he tried to decide what the best course of action would be. He didn�t want to guess and have something end up in an incorrect location. Severus would notice for sure, then he would probably get a real detention.

����������� Harry bit his lip as he debated whether or not he should ask Severus for assistance. Would the professor even help him? Would he expect Harry to know what everything was by now? He was in his third year of potions, that probably meant he should know at least what everything was, right?

����������� Harry tried in vain to guess what some of the ingredients were, but when all he could do was draw a blank on many of them (he did match one item with other tray items), he picked up the flowers he had first found and walked out of the closet.

����������� Severus was still grading at his desk, though he seemed a bit weary of it as he had his eyes closed and was rubbing the back of his neck rather roughly. Harry hesitated, then walked up to the desk and held the flowers up.

����������� �Sir, can you tell me what these are? I don�t see any others like them, and they don�t really look like aconite.�

����������� Severus opened his eyes and stared at the plants for a moment.

����������� �That�s where those delphiniums disappeared to,� he muttered.

����������� �Delphiniums?� Harry repeated.

����������� �Indeed.� Severus gestured for Harry to step around the desk to come closer, and when Harry was standing next to Severus, the professor gently touched one of the flowers, lifting the petals up slightly. �Delphiniums tend to have a lighter color to them then aconite, more of a violet or a deep blue rather than aconites deep purple. See the petals? Open and more pointed at the end where aconite has more of an arching hood.�

����������� �I knew they looked different from the aconite.�

����������� �Yes, I can�t imagine many other students would have been able to pull this particular species of delphinium out of a pile of aconite. That�s very observant of you. I had just had these shipped in yesterday and like that, they vanished from where I left them in the closet. I believe I will hold on to these for now.�

����������� �What do you need them for?�

����������� �It makes a very powerful wrackspurt insecticide.� Severus took the plants from Harry and set them down on his desk, waving his wand over them to reapply a freshening charm on them. He glanced at Harry. �Was that all you needed? Are you finished with the closet?�

����������� �No. Actually, there�s a couple other things I didn�t really know the difference between, and some I don�t know at all.�

����������� �I�m not surprised. There are many things in there you will not use until your sixth year.� Severus stood up from his desk. �I could use a break from grading anyway. Let�s see what you�ve got.� ���

����������� Harry led the way to the closet and pointed at the small collection he had made on an unused shelf opposite where most of the ingredients were lined up against the wall. He had pulled a couple trays out as well and had them on the shelf, and he pulled out the items in them first.

����������� �I thought the ginger would be easy, but I didn�t realize you also had something called ginseng in here. Is that just another word for ginger?�

����������� �It is not,� Severus said, accepting the different ginger roots he was handed. He stepped closer to the tray, digging through it briefly before pulling out a ginseng. �You see the ginger has a rather knobby, bolbous appearance, with a smooth surface.�

����������� Harry ran his hand over the ginger as Severus was doing, then did the same with the ginseng, feeling the rougher texture.

����������� �Ginseng has a more irregular, forked shape with a rougher exterior than ginger.�

����������� �They look really similar,� Harry observed, �even though they have different names. What do you use them for?�

����������� �Ginger is well known for its anti-inflammatory properties. It is a crucial addition in many healing potions. The ginseng is better known for enhancing the immune system and improving overall energy and mood. It is useful in calming draughts. While the two are similar in many ways, even in their components, the slight differences in the makeup of those components make all the difference in what we use the ginger or the ginseng for. You will be differentiating those components in your fourth year.�

����������� Harry was very intrigued by the new information on the two very similar roots he held in each hand. For the first time in his three years at Hogwarts, potions was something he actually liked to learn about. This Snape was very different from the one even just a few months ago. Even in class, Severus had backed off on calling Harry out or making snide comments about his fame or worse, his father. Sometimes, it looked like Severus wanted to say something snarky, but the professor managed to hold his tongue. And now, he was actually teaching him something kind of cool without degrading his intellect. It was truly fascinating.

����������� �Now that you know the difference, divide the ginger and ginseng into their appropriate trays while I tend to what else you have out on this shelf.�

����������� �Okay, sir.�

����������� Harry made sure he touched each root to make sure he was grabbing a ginseng or a ginger and placed them in the appropriate tray. There was so many of them, it took a while to split up the two, and then he placed the lid over them. He looked up at Severus, who had managed to home all the other ingredients that were left out, and he was currently checking all the other trays. Harry almost set the two trays back in their alphabetical locations when he paused and stared at the two empty spaces side by side.

����������� �Sir?� he asked.

����������� Severus looked at Harry and arched a brow.

����������� �Do you think if you kept these two trays apart from each other, then no one would mix them up so much?�

����������� Severus snorted at that, and for a moment, Harry thought he was being derisive, but then Severus actually chuckled, a surprising sound coming from the usually petulant potions master.

����������� �You know, in all the years I�ve worked here, not once have I considered that.�

����������� Harry couldn�t help the grin that spread across his face.

����������� �However,� Severus added, �the students must learn the differences regardless, and if you all slowed down and paid more attention to what you were grabbing, it would not be a problem. Go ahead and put those back where they belong.� ���������

����������� Harry slid the trays into their allotted spots.

����������� �Very good. You did well, Potter. I am impressed.�

����������� Harry beamed at his professor. Praise was really a rare thing to hear. Honestly, Severus wasn�t so bad underneath that gruff exterior.

����������� �I think I�ve kept you busy long enough. You should head to the Great Hall for lunch, where you will be served the missing half of your nutrient potion you gracefully dumped this morning.�

����������� �How did you know about that?� Harry asked, his eyes wide.

����������� �I have my ways,� Severus said. �And stay in the castle. If I find out from anyone that your head, foot, arm, ear, or any part of you was spotted in Hogsmeade, you will be reorganizing every closet that exists in this castle for the rest of the year. Is that clear?�

����������� �Yes, sir,� Harry said with a nod.

����������� �You are dismissed.�

����������� Harry left the classroom with another strange feeling bubbling in his chest, but it was not an unwelcomed warmth. It was that feeling that allowed him to have a good night of sleep later that night, one free of nightmares filled with attacking wolves.

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Next Chapter:

 

����������� It appeared that the school had quite a boggart problem. After banishing the one boggart terrorizing the empty classroom across from his potions supply room, another one decided to move into his classroom soon after. Thankfully, it kept itself in the far back of his lab, hiding inside an unused cabinet, so Severus figured it was a problem for later. None of his students were going to encounter it during their class sessions, so he would tend to it later that evening.

����������� Severus was finishing setting up his classroom for the third-year students when Albus walked into the classroom, and he paused in his work to greet the Headmaster.

����������� �Good afternoon, Headmaster,� Severus said. �Anything I can assist you with?�

����������� Albus waved his wand around the room, and Severus felt the heavy weight of privacy charms shield the air, and he crossed his arms and leaned back against a desk as he waited for Albus to put his wand away.

����������� �I believe I have found an excellent safehouse for Harry to reside in when school is over,� Albus explained. �A quaint cottage within Lake District, just outside of Keswick, actually.�

����������� �So?� Severus questioned, quirking a brow. �What does this have to do with me?�

����������� �Seeing as you are Harry�s guardian��

����������� �Temporary,� Severus emphasized.

����������� �Yes, temporary guardian, I was hoping you and I could take a trip out to the cottage this weekend to establish a few more security wards and ensure that the wards recognize your magic.�

����������� �This sounds more like a permanent arrangement,� Severus stated, glaring mildly at Albus.

����������� �I am still searching for a suitable guardian, but you must understand that my options are limited, Severus. And becoming more and more so as the days go by. And even if I do find someone else, you will still be Harry�s main supplier of Wolfsbane. You need access to the cottage to make your deliveries. And until I found a permanent solution to Harry�s guardianship, you are the only one who can escort him there when school is finished.�

����������� �And what would you have me do? Leave him there all on his own? He�s thirteen for Merlin�s sake, Albus!�

����������� �I suppose someone will have to stay with him for some of the summer then. Are you offering?�

����������� Feeling a bit setup, Severus growled softly under his breath as he stared off into his classroom, his eyes unfocused for a moment as he deliberated shouting, storming off, or simply hexing the old fool in front of him. None of those options played out very well in his head, so he sighed heavily. As horrid as the idea sounded, Harry had not been completely intolerable the last couple of weeks. No, the idea of spending a summer stuck in a secluded cottage with his hated rival�s son did not bother Severus nearly as much as it would have a mere month ago. No, what bothered him was being stuck in a secluded cottage on a full moon night with a raging werewolf on the other side of a thin door.

����������� �We will make sure Harry has a safe place to be on full moon nights,� Albus said, reading Severus�s face accurately. �Somewhere he cannot get loose, considering the muggle town just a few miles down the road. But Harry will also be taking his Wolfsbane, so really, there should be no harm or foul, wouldn�t you think, Severus?�

����������� �Considering he�s yet to have taken a full course of the potion, no, I don�t think that there is no harm or foul, but it�s not like you�re leaving me much choice unless I decide to abandon Mr. Potter in the middle of nowhere for two months. So, of course, Albus, it seems I must join you to see this cottage and make sure it is up to my standards so I can continue to tend to the little wolf you�ve thrusted into my care.�

����������� �You know I would not ask this of you if I had another option, Severus.�

����������� �I�m sure.�

����������� There was silence between the med for a moment before Albus broke it with a question.

����������� �How is Harry doing with his . . . new situation?�

����������� �As well as he can be.� Severus glanced at the clock in the classroom. His third year students should be arriving any minute. �The changes to his body have made him a more voracious eater, so he�s looking less like a walking zombie and more like a healthy young teenager. Though I am not sure how well he has been sleeping, during my lecture earlier this week, he nearly fell asleep in my class. I�ve heard similar reports from the other professors. I suppose I should discuss his sleeping habits with him after class today.�

����������� �The poor boy has been through a lot the last couple of months. I�m sure it is influencing his sleep to some degree. Keep me updated on how he is faring, especially when he starts his potion regimen next week. We must make sure we do not repeat last month�s near disaster.�

����������� �That will not happen this time,� Severus said with firm assurance. He would tie Harry down in his quarters and force feed him the Wolfsbane every night if he had to. He would not risk Harry turning in the middle of the hallway again.

�����������

����������� Harry rubbed his eyes as he added the crushed snake fangs to the cauldron, causing the potion to emit a puff of green smoke into the air. He stirred the potion three times clockwise, being mindful to keep the stirs slow and consistent. He yawned as he picked up a measure of standard ingredient and began shaking the ingredients into the cauldron, completely missing Hermione�s growing wide eyes and shake of her head.

����������� A loud bang echoed in the room, startling some of the other students, who all glanced back at Harry�s desk.

����������� The acrid smell of burnt hair filled the air as Harry coughed and spluttered, waving his had around to clear the smoke, then he frantically batted at the smoke curling from his hair. Finally, the smoke began to dissipate, and he stared at the smoking cauldron, the burnt remains of his Wide-Eye Potion caked to the sides.

����������� �Blast it all,� Harry muttered, wiping his face free of the charred material.

����������� �Potter,� Severus�s silky voice said behind him, and Harry felt his ears flick involuntarily. �What have you managed to do to your potion?�

����������� �Obviously I�ve managed to create an impromptu explosive,� Harry remarked, not turning to face his professor. He expected a loss of points or even a detention.

����������� Instead, Severus raised a brow at him.

����������� �And what, pray tell, do you hope to accomplish by burning off your hair?�

����������� Harry blushed as he ran a hand through his hair that was sticking straight up.

����������� �I thought it might look good for . . . you know, Quidditch.�

����������� Ron coughed violently as he tried to cover up a snort. Hermione shook her head at Harry while Severus�s lip curled into a sneer.

����������� �Quidditch? You�d be more likely to frighten the bludgers than impress the crowd with that look, Potter. Clean this mess up immediately. You will serve detention with me tonight to redo the rather simple potion you failed to accomplish today.�

����������� Harry felt a flicker of annoyance in his chest.

����������� �Perhaps I should consider a career in pyrotechnics,� Harry said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Some of his classmates gave him confused looks at the muggle term while others sniggered. �It seems my skills are more appreciated elsewhere.�

����������� �Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter,� Severus said without so much as glance back as the professor checked on other cauldrons. �Now quit distracting your peers and clean your station. And do try not to set yourself alight again.�

����������� �I�ll do my best, Professor,� Harry said, picking up his cauldron with his dragonhide gloves. �Wouldn�t want to deprive you of the entertainment.�

����������� Severus suddenly lifted his wand and pointed it directly at Harry, who froze in the middle of the classroom, his eyes widening. He heard a few of his dormmates suck in their breaths while the Slytherins smirked and waited for the show to begin.

����������� Whatever Harry was expecting, it was not the rough cleansing charm that scrubbed his hair and skin clean of the soot that covered him from the small blast. When the charm ended, he felt as though he had stood in a hot shower for too long while scrubbing vigorously at his skin the entire time, but he was no longer covered in the black gunk nor was his hair sticking up and smoking. The Slytherins seemed disappointed while the Gryffindors seemed relieved.

����������� �Five more points from Gryffindor, Potter,� Severus said as he lowered his wand. �Any more cheek you�d like to share with the class?�

����������� Yeah, actually, Harry thought, starting with why you don�t use that charm on your own greasy hair. But he glared at the professor instead as he walked toward the sink in the back of the classroom.

����������� �No, sir,� Harry said.

����������� Severus returned to monitoring the classroom while Harry filled the cauldron with soap and hot water. He waited a couple minutes as he allowed the cauldron to soak before he picked up a sponge and began scrubbing at the pewter. It took a lot of elbow grease to remove the charred material, and he knew it would take him the rest of the class period to clean the cauldron alone.

He had to pause several times in his scrubbing as his arms exhausted quickly, and he fought a yawn a couple times. His mind thought back to the nightmares he had been having near nightly�the wolf in the office, the bite, the pain . . . it had been keeping him awake lately, and he was really starting to feel the draining effects of lack of sleep. But he had to muscle through it, just like he would at the Dursleys. It was his own fault he had been turned, and who was going to sympathize with him? Besides, what would anyone be able to do anyway? It�s not like nightmares were uncommon or unheard of. People dealt with them all the time; his case was nothing special.

����������� As Harry kept scrubbing the cauldron, another acrid smell began to fill the air, and it created a strong sense of nausea in his gut. He paused as he swallowed dryly, then glanced over his shoulder to see what student was messing up their potion now.

����������� Except no one was.

����������� Instead, everyone was on the final step of their potion: adding a single stem of aconite.

����������� Wolfsbane.

����������� As each stem fell into the cauldron, it released a small puff of purple smoke that dissipated in the air, traveling all the way to Harry just to torment him, twisting his stomach and fogging up his brain. It was the same sick, weakening feeling he had when he drank the Wolfsbane Potion, except now, because he was breathing in the fumes, it was really starting to mess with his head.

����������� Harry turned his attention back to scrubbing, his heart racing in his chest. Did Severus do this on purpose? Had he chosen this potion as a way to punish Harry for some unknown crime he committed? He wouldn�t put it past his dour professor, but after the last couple of weeks he had, he had thought Severus was putting behind whatever vendetta he had against him to make sure he was at the very least healthy. Had it all been a ruse?

����������� The fumes were really starting to get to Harry. He felt as though he would vomit at any minute, and he was so lightheaded that he began to sway where he was standing. His lungs were beginning to feel like they were burning, and his breathing quickened. The sponge fell out of his hand, and he clutched the edge of the sink for balance as he tried to take deep breaths to calm his growing anxiety while the room spun around him.

����������� �Potter,� Severus�s voice said from somewhere in the classroom.

����������� He couldn�t answer. Instead, he felt his hands slip from the sink and the ground came rushing for his head, and all went black.

�����������

����������� Severus managed to catch Harry before he struck the hard, cold ground. He helped Harry the rest of the way to the floor, lying him down for a moment and checking his pulse, then rested a hand on his forehead. Harry felt slightly warm, and his breathing was slowing down, as if something had sedated him.

����������� Severus frowned for a moment before realizing that Harry was experiencing side effects of the aconite fumes in the air. He cursed under his breath as he stood up and faced the forming crowd of Gryffindors.

����������� �Back to your stations!� Severus said. �Everyone should be finished with their potion now, so turn off your cauldrons, bottle a sample, and clean your work area. And Merlin help you if any of you forget to label your sample, Longbottom. You are all dismissed when you�re finished.�

����������� �Sir, what about Harry�� Hermione asked.

����������� �He�s fine,� Severus said as he scooped the teenager into his arms. �Dismissed when you are finished.�

����������� Severus moved Harry to the front of his classroom where he transfigured a chair into a simple cot. He summoned two vials; one filled with smelling salts and another with a small dose of sleep aid. He administered the sleep aid first, seeing as Harry needed some much-needed sleep, then he opened the vial of smelling salts and set them next to Harry. He could see the child�s nose twitching, but he did not wake up, which Severus had expected. The smelling salts were to drown out the aconite�s smell in the classroom, not to arouse Harry from his needed sleep.

����������� It took twenty minutes for the students to clear out, and Severus had to threaten loss of points if Hermione and Ron didn�t evacuate his classroom when they lingered near Harry�s bed a bit too long. Now that he had the classroom to himself, Severus dimmed the lights and covered Harry with a light blanket. If Harry�s constant falling asleep in class and all the yawning he had done today was anything to go by, the child had not been sleeping well for a while now. Thankfully, this was Harry�s last class of the day.

����������� Two hours went by before Harry began to stir, and Severus set aside his grading at his desk and walked over to the cot, pulling up a chair from one of the desks to observe Harry.

����������� Harry slowly blinked his eyes open and groaned loudly, reaching a hand up to his head. Severus reached out and pushed Harry�s hand away in order to rest his own hand against Harry�s forehead. He was glad it was not as warm, and he pulled back as Harry yawned and stretched as he sat up.

����������� �What happened?� Harry asked.

����������� �Do you recall fainting in class earlier today?� Severus asked.

����������� Harry blinked, then his eyes widened, and he glared at Severus.

����������� �You knew that would happen!� Harry accused him as he swung his feet over the bed. �You know what I am and you still had us brew a potion with aconite in it�what is wrong with you?� �����

����������� �What is wrong with you, Potter?� Severus snapped back. �The potion required one stem, which with your dragonhide gloves would have been no problem for you to handle, and the amount of aconite fumes that ended up in the air would have been nothing more than an unpleasant smell for you unless of course your immune system was severely compromised. And seeing how you�ve fallen asleep in not one but several of your classes, I can only imagine that you are not sleeping appropriately if at all. So, Potter, is that an accurate conclusion?�

����������� Harry glared at Severus but said nothing as he felt a blush rise up his neck and to his cheeks. How did he always manage to jump to the wrong conclusions lately? After everything Severus had done for him, there he was accusing the man of trying to sabotage Harry�s classroom experience. �

����������� �Why are you not sleeping?� Severus asked after a few minutes of silence.

����������� �It�s nothing, just some bad dreams,� Harry said. �I can handle it.�

����������� �Clearly not if its impacting your ability to focus in class. You�re lucky you didn�t cause a more volatile explosion today. Brewing a potion while drowsy can be very dangerous, as you�ve proven.�

����������� �Sorry,� Harry muttered.

����������� �What are these . . . bad dreams about?�

����������� Harry stared intently at his shoes, remaining silent while Severus slowly began to lose his patience.

����������� �I cannot help you if you do not answer my question,� Severus said.

����������� �Yeah, well, I didn�t ask for your help.�

����������� �Potter,� Severus growled under his breath, �I cannot in good conscience allow this sleep deprivation to continue. It�s already affected your school performance; you�re practically a walking hazard in the potions classroom. You�re in a miserable, snippy mood as of late, and long-term lack of sleep can have serious consequences on your overall health, which Madam Pomfrey and I have been trying to improve, and if this continues, it might as well all have been for naught. Now, we are going to sit here until you explain to me what these dreams are about so I can appropriately address them, and I�m warning you now, Potter, you will not outwait me. I have all night.�

����������� �I�ve had bad dreams before,� Harry insisted. �They�ll go away on their own if I just give it time. It�s really not a big deal.�

����������� �You�re right. So you should have no problem discussing it with me if it�s no big deal.�

����������� Harry bit his lower lip, chewing slightly as he met Severus�s eyes, then looked down again, staring at the top of his shoes. Severus could see the determination to attempt to outwait him, and he sighed and tried a different tactic.

����������� �I know what it�s like to be kept awake by the same nightmares over and over,� he said, looking off to the side at a random spot in the classroom. �I understand the temptation to simply stay awake to avoid the dark dreams from replaying over and over in your head in your most vulnerable state. And I know from experience the toll avoiding sleep has on you, and let me tell you, Potter, none of it is pleasant. And by the end of it all, you will still have the nightmares. Unless you let me help you.�

����������� Harry looked up at Severus, and there was a flicker of hope in the child�s eyes, so Severus moved the chair closer to the cot and met Harry�s eyes directly.

����������� �Somethings simply do not go away on their own. You do not have to suffer through this, for whatever reason you feel is justified, it really isn�t necessary, nor will it make the nightmares go away. But I know what can. I just need to know what the dreams entail so I can pick the right method for you. So tell me, what is it that is keeping you up at night?�

����������� Harry swallowed audibly as he pulled his knees up to his chest, his eyes glazed over and distant as he continued to chew at his lower lip. Severus was sure he had completely broken the child at this point when Harry suddenly began talking.

����������� �He keeps attacking me,� he said in a near whisper. �The wolf . . . Professor Lupin as a werewolf . . . I keep ending up in his office and he�s hunting me. Again and again and he always finds me and attacks me. I don�t get why I keep reliving it in my head, it�s so stupid.�

����������� �It was a very traumatic experience you went through,� Severus reasoned. �You are still processing the attack and how it changed you.�

����������� �I hate it. I hated feeling so . . . weak. So defenseless.� Harry wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head into them. �So stupid. I should have just stayed in my dorm.�

����������� While Severus could agree with that statement, he knew saying so would not ease Harry�s troubled mind. As it was, this was not the kind of lesson Severus would wish on any of his students to learn not to wander the castle alone at night.

����������� �We cannot fix the past,� Severus said, spitting out the first cliched thing he thought of. �But we can heal from it. Now, I think for now it would be good to start a sleep aid potion. It�s the same thing I gave you earlier, it helps you fall asleep and keeps you in a peaceful state of mind as you sleep. This will help us get you back to a healthy state of mind and give your body a chance to really sleep without any interruptions. Then we can work on . . . dealing with what you�ve experienced.�

����������� �Do we have to?� Harry made a face. �Why can�t I just take the potions until they stop?�

����������� �Who�s to say the dreams will ever stop?� Severus answered cryptically. �You cannot ignore it forever. What happened to you has changed your life drastically and will continue to do so as you navigate the wizarding world as you are. Some places require that you admit any diseases such as lycanthropy, as do some careers. You need to come to terms with what you are now so you can face a very prejudiced world without falling apart at the seams.�

����������� �Well, when you say it all like that, I kind of don�t want to,� Harry muttered.

����������� �Don�t worry,� Severus said. He rested a hand over Harry�s. �I will help you through it. As much as I can. You won�t face the world alone.�

����������� Harry stared at Severus with an unreadable emotion, then he slowly pulled his hand away from Severus�s, resting it on his knee once more, as if he couldn�t quite believe Severus�s words, wouldn�t allow himself to believe such words from another person cause when they failed him, he would not be heartbroken. Severus was all too familiar with that logic as well, so he wasn�t entirely upset as he pulled his hand back and stood up.

����������� �I will collect a week�s supply of sleep aid for you. In the meantime, I want you to begin redoing the potion you messed up in class today. And please, try not to create any more explosives.�

����������� Harry snorted softly and said, �No promises.�

����������� Severus gave Harry a mild glare before he gestured for Harry to get to work, and Harry hopped off the cot and pulled his clean cauldron off the drying rack and returned to his desk to begin the Wide Eye Potion once more. Severus watched him work for a moment, then turned to his supply closet to collect a few vials of the promised sleep aid, wondering all the while if he was truly cut out for this.

 

�����������

����������� �

����������� �

�����������

Crawling in my skin

These wounds; they will not heal

Fear is how I fall

Confusing what is real

�Crawling� Linkin Park

�����������

����������� Harry set up his cauldron and found the necessary ingredients laid out for him already. His nose twitched at the scent of the aconite plant, and he knew he would have to expect the unpleasantness that would come when he had to add the stem to his cauldron in the final step. Hopefully, he won�t pass out this time. He began working on preparing some of his ingredients while he waited for the water in the cauldron to boil.

����������� Severus had disappeared into the storage closet, leaving Harry alone to complete the task. He wondered what the sleep aid would be like. He remembered reading how certain sleep aid potions, particularly Dreamless Sleep, could be very addictive. Was this simply a diluted version of that kind of potion? He did not recall any of his dreams if he had had any, but that did not mean much.

����������� A thud in the back of the classroom caught Harry�s attention.

����������� He snapped his head in its direction, frowning at the noise. When nothing happened for a few minutes, he looked back at his workstation, checking the progress of his boiling water before returning to chopping.

����������� Another thud.

����������� Harry paused once more, looking back again. Severus was still in the supply closet, so he couldn�t be making the noises coming from the back of the room. Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched one of the cabinets open slightly before thumping shut once more.

����������� So that�s where the noise was coming from.

����������� Harry turned the fire down on his cauldron, then slowly walked toward the cabinet that had opened and closed on its own. His first thought was that Peeves was messing with him, and he made a face as he paused in front of the cabinet. He hesitated for only a moment before he yanked the cabinet door open.

����������� Empty darkness.

����������� Then, a chain shot out of the cabinet and wrapped itself around one of Harry�s wrists, and he jerked back, but found himself unable to go far as another chain lashed out and grabbed his other wrist.

����������� �Hey, let go!� Harry cried, yanking against the clanking metal.

����������� A panel of thick wire slapped itself on the ground, followed by another, then another, as if a cage was building itself right in front of Harry, growing taller and wider as more panels connected themselves together.

����������� Harry�s eyes widened and he renewed his efforts to get away, yanking and pulling against the chains that tightened around his wrists, then they dragged him closer to the cage.

����������� �No!� Harry yelled. �Stop, let go of me!�

����������� Harry threw himself backward, his back slapping against the cold floor, but it did not loosen the grip on the chains. Instead, another chain shackled itself to Harry�s ankle and assisted in dragging Harry toward the cage.

����������� �Help!� Harry shouted, hoping someone would stop this torture.

����������� �Potter!� Severus�s voice yelled. Harry saw Severus step into the room, wand out, as he approached the cage. �It�s just a boggart. Grab your wand. You can banish it.�

����������� Harry fought against the chains to reach for his wand, but when he felt another tug against his wrists and ankle, dragging him closer to the cage, he panicked once more and tried to back crawl away.

����������� �I can�t . . .� Harry said. �I can�t . . .� �

����������� �I can not change your fear, Potter. It doesn�t work that way. The boggart is attacking you. You must banish it.�

����������� Harry felt the world around him growing darker, and he could hear the locks clicking into place, trapping him within an invisible cage while the rusty, metallic monstrosity in front of him drew closer and closer. He looked away from it and closed his eyes, trying to mentally block out everything that was happening around him.

����������� �Potter . . .� Severus began to say but as he took in Harry�s frightened state, he sighed exasperatedly before he stepped over Harry, staring directly at the cage. Harry peeked an eye open and watched as the cage seemed to rattle and twist in shape.

����������� The rusty metal turned into gray fur while the chains formed large paws with thick, black claws. A face began to morph from the wires, creating a very scarred wolf with red eyes and bristled fur. A werewolf.

����������� Harry sucked in a breath and crawled back a bit.

����������� The wolf snarled as it stalked closer to Severus, who raised his wand and shouted, �Riddikulus!�

����������� The wolf yelped as the spell hit it, and it shrunk down into a yellow, spotted puppy that rolled around on the floor repeatedly, wriggling around as if asking for belly rubs. The puppy suddenly jumped up to its feet and scampered back for the cabinet, the door closing behind it.

����������� Severus lowered his wand and turned to face Harry, who was staring wide eyed at the cabinet door.

����������� �Potter,� Severus asked, �are you alright?�

����������� �Your biggest fear,� Harry whispered, �is werewolves? Your biggest fear . . . is me?�

����������� �No, Potter,� Severus said, shaking his head, �I am not afraid of you��

����������� Harry�s eyes suddenly had a more wolfish glow and his teeth appeared the slightest bit sharper as the young boy jumped to his feet and lunged at Severus with a snarl. Severus jumped back, his wand instinctively rising and pointing itself directly at Harry�s chest.

����������� Harry�s face lost the wolfish features and adopted a more crestfallen look.

����������� �You are afraid of me,� Harry murmured.

����������� �Well, when you do bloody shit like that,� Severus growled, lowering his wand.

����������� �Why would you become a guardian to something you fear?� Harry asked. �Were you actually planning on helping me or was this just another ruse to expel me from Hogwarts for good? You never actually cared about me�you were pretending!�

����������� �Potter,� Severus began again, but he was unable to find the right words. So, instead, he unbuttoned his teaching robe, then pulled his grey undershirt loose from where it was tucked in his trousers and pulled it up to his underarms, stopping there and closing his eyes at Harry�s gasp.

����������� Harry had been confused at first when Severus had pulled his shirt loose, but when four jagged scars revealed themselves, Harry froze, gasping at the sight. The scars were thick and raised, traveling across Severus�s left ribcage, the very last scar ending just above his umbilical scar. Harry took a few steps closer, unable to stop staring at the clear werewolf marks.

����������� �Are these . . .�

����������� �Just scratches,� Severus said. �But, like bites, they scar. Permanently.�

����������� �How did you get them?� Harry asked.

����������� �It was during my fifth year here. A student who attended the school, the same one who has turned you, did this to me one night.�

����������� �The same . . . he�s attacked before?�

����������� �Unfortunately.�

����������� �And he was allowed to come back?�

����������� �The headmaster has a strong belief in second chances.�

����������� Harry met Severus�s eyes with a look of bewilderment, but his eyes strayed to Severus�s scars on his ribs. Harry slowly reached up a hand, the consideration to feel the marks clear in his eyes, but he decided against it and dropped his hand to his own shoulder, rubbing gently. Severus lowered his undershirt, tucking it back into his trousers.

����������� �My fear of werewolves goes beyond your transformation,� Severus said. �It is something I continue to work on, but as you can see, I am a bit biased. My experiences with werewolves have taught me to be so.�

����������� �We are just monsters,� Harry muttered, his eyes downcast, his hand rubbing deeper into the scars marred on his shoulder.

����������� �No,� Severus said quickly, shocking himself. �There is a beast within you, yes. But it can be tamed. It can be controlled.�

����������� �With the Wolfsbane,� Harry said sadly.

����������� �Afraid so.� Severus agreed. �It is the only thing proven effective. Regardless, Harry, I do not fear you. I want you to understand that.�

����������� Harry was silent for a long moment as he continued to rub his shoulder before his hand dropped and he looked at the cabinet curiously.

����������� �Why did it look like that?� Harry asked. �Your boggart? That�s not what Remus�s wolf looked like.�

����������� �Fears are often our mind�s worst creations. I suppose that is mine. Since I am being honest with you, can I ask you a personal question?�

����������� �I guess,� Harry said, shrugging his shoulder.

����������� �Why is your greatest fear a cage?� Severus asked.

����������� Harry swallowed dryly, closing his eyes as the noises of a door slamming shut with locks being put in place sounded around him.

����������� �I don�t want to be locked away again,� he said. �I�m not a freak. I don�t want to be a monster.�

����������� �Locked away again?� Severus reiterated. �When were you locked away?�

����������� �All the time,� Harry said. �In my cupboard under the stairs. In Dudley�s second bedroom. I�m always being locked away. I don�t want that to happen here. I like Hogwarts.�

����������� �Your relatives locked you in a cupboard? When was this?�

����������� �It was my bedroom as a child,� Harry said. �They locked me in there whenever they didn�t want to deal with me. Sometimes, for whole weekends.�

����������� Severus�s face was unreadable, and for some reason, that made it easier for Harry to keep talking.

����������� �Then during the summer before my second year, they locked me in Dudley�s bedroom. They even put bars on my window so I couldn�t escape or send Hedwig anywhere. She nearly starved. Aunt Petunia would only feed me soup through a cat flap and let me out once a day for a bathroom break.�

����������� Harry bit back a flood of tears that were trying to well in his eyes.

����������� �Now I�m a monster. You�re going to lock me away.�

����������� �You will be behind a safe wall,� Severus said gently. �For your protection and the protection of those around you. You will not be locked away in the manner your relatives did to you. That was very wrong of your relatives to do. I will not allow that to happen now.�

����������� Harry shrugged his shoulder, not ready to believe those words only to be betrayed later. He would never allow himself to be vulnerable in such a way again if he could help it. He heard Severus sigh, then the professor looked over at Harry�s workstation before flicking his wand and banishing the supplies, leaving an empty clean cauldron behind.

����������� �Hey, what about my grade?� Harry asked. �I have to make the potion.�

����������� �Consider it complete,� Severus said dryly. �You�ve passed. I was thinking now would be a good time to begin a patronus lesson.�

����������� �Really?� Harry asked, a grin stretching across his face against his will.

�����������

����������� Harry studied the small vial of sleep aid later that night as he settled into bed. The patronus lesson had been a bit disappointing, but Severus had promised another lesson soon. All they did was discuss where Remus had left off and how much progress Harry had made. Severus believed the exposure approach was both mentally and physically draining and would take far too long to appropriately master the charm. Instead, Severus wanted Harry to really focus on his happy memory, become as immersed into it as possible, to learn the sensations and feelings of what it really meant to him. Once he mastered that, he would be able to project those feelings into the charm.

����������� So, basically, he needed to meditate and daydream.

����������� Some advice. Harry figured he would give it a try later. Right now, he needed to test how well these sleep aid potions work.

����������� �Are they like Dreamless Sleep?� Harry had asked.

����������� �I would be fired if I gave you that without Madam Pomfrey�s consent,� Severus said with a mild glare. �No, this is mostly ashwagandha extract with a bit of lavender and valerian. It will help you relax and ease your mind of any troubled thoughts, hopefully expelling any nightmares.�

����������� Harry drank the small dose of potion and set the vial aside to return to Severus as his orders. In less than five minutes, he fell into a comfortable sleep with no nightmares.

����������� He felt a lot better the next day than he had all week, and he was more awake and attentive in his classes. He was excited for the hands on practice in Defense Against the Dark Arts that day, despite his previous concerns of the new professor. Except for the one flaw of being a monster killer, the professor was knowledgeable and very engaging in class. He made the lessons almost as fun as Remus had.

����������� �Today, we will be practicing the disarming spell,� Huntington announced. �Everyone, pair up. We�ve gone over the incantation and wand movement; it�s time you put them to use.�

����������� Harry paired up with Ron, of course, while Hermione found herself paired with Dean Thomas, and they set to practicing diligently, blue jets of light crisscrossing back and forth across the room from various wands. However, Harry�s good mood was beginning to damper as he could hear every scowl and comment from Malfoy, who was making a show of his superior wand work.

����������� �Honestly, Goyle,� Malfoy said to his paired partner, �you hold your wand like a baboon trying to peel a banana. No wonder you can�t even manage a simple disarming spell.�

����������� Goyle grunted in response, looking thoroughly miserable as he attempted the spell once more. Harry scrunched his nose at the pair.

����������� �What an absolute git,� Harry muttered lowly to Ron. ��������

����������� Unfortunately, Malfoy seemed to have a sixth sense of when someone spoke ill of him, and he spun on his heels and glared at Harry.

����������� �What was that, Potter?� Malfoy sneered, his gray eyes narrowing.

����������� �I said you�re a git,� Harry said, finding himself turning to face the confrontational pose, as if anyone daring to challenge him had threatened his very sense of being. �I mean, at least Goyle is trying. Unlike some people who just spend all their time twirling their wand and insulting others.�

����������� Malfoy stalked towards him, and Harry tracked his every move with subtle shifts of his eyes. He could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck, but he did not back down.

����������� �You think you�re so clever, don�t you?� Malfoy hissed, his voice low and dangerous. �Always the hero. Well, let�s see how heroic you are against this!� �

����������� Before Harry could raise his own wand, Malfoy flicked his and muttered, �Expelliarmus!�

����������� The blue jet of light caught Harry off guard, and his wand flew from his hand, landing with a clatter on the floor across the room.

����������� �Ha!� Malfoy crowed, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.

����������� Harry however, felt more hair on his skin bristle, and he could feel the subtle change of his eyes as they shifted to a more wolfish look, and he bared his teeth at Malfoy, who had the decency to take a hesitant step back, a flicker of fear crossing his face as his smirk faltered. It was as if he recalled the way Harry had reacted to his taunts previously, and he took another step back. Harry didn�t even glance at his wand as he took an intimidating step forward, his hands clenched at his sides.

����������� �Harry, don�t,� Ron whispered, frantically shaking his head.

����������� Hermione stepped over to the pair, her eyes darting between Harry and Draco.

����������� Harry did not listen to Ron, instead, he lunged for Malfoy.

����������� Hermione bravely tried to place herself between Harry and Malfoy, putting her hands on Harry�s shoulder to try and stop him, but Harry jerked away from her, nearly knocking her down, but his eyes were locked on Malfoy, and he saw nothing else but Malfoy�s poor attempt to stumble backwards away from him.

����������� Before Harry could snatch Malfoy�s robe, Huntington stepped between them, holding his hand out in front of Harry to stop him from advancing.

����������� Hot heat seared Harry�s chest, and he froze as he looked at the hand in front of him. Huntington was wearing thick silver rings on three of his fingers, and Harry backed up a few steps to avoid the professor in case he felt the need to place his hand on Harry�s shoulder or anything.

����������� �That�s enough, Mr. Potter,� Huntington said firmly, though his eyes were curious as they studied Harry. �Collect your wand and report yourself to your Head of House�s office. I will be informing her of this inappropriate classroom behavior.�

����������� Feeling less like a predatory animal on the hunt, Harry turned and searched the room for his wand, finding it quickly. He collected his bag and walked out of the classroom, ignoring the looks he was getting from his classmates.

����������� Harry felt as though he was in a trance as he walked down the hall that led to the staircase to Gryffindor Tower, where he would also find McGonagall�s office. He looked down at his hands, and noticed for the first time how his nails had dug into his skin, leaving small, crescent-shaped marks that looked almost like . . . claw marks.

����������� A wave of nausea washed over him. He hadn�t meant to act like some beast. He hadn�t meant to lose control like he had. And in front of Huntington, nonetheless. What did the professor make of him now? Was he suspicious? �

����������� Harry nearly collided into someone if he hadn�t felt their presence at the last minute, and he stopped walking abruptly to avoid walking into them, looking away from his hands and up at the person in front of him.

����������� Every hair on his body rose once more as his eyes widened and his face flushed in fear.

����������� Remus Lupin.

����������� The man looked just as surprised to have run into him, and his jaw was dropped for a moment before he held his hands out placatingly.

����������� �Harry, please, I am so, so��

����������� All Harry could see were the amber eyes of the wolf stalking his dreams. He could hear the snarls and growls growing louder and louder behind him before the sickening crunch of bone sounded in his ear as the wolf bit his shoulder, and his scars burned in memory. Harry let out a very inhuman snarl as he sidestepped Remus before he ran as fast as he could far away from the wolf that was surely chasing him.

�����������

����������� �Lupin!� Severus snarled at the wolf standing stock-still in the middle of the hall. He had seen the very end of the encounter as he turned down the hallway, and a fierce, protective anger ignited in his chest. �What did you do?� �

����������� �I�I was,� Remus stammered before he shook his head. �It was too soon. I just wanted to apologize and . . .�

����������� �What makes you think he wants to hear from you?� Severus snapped as he paused before the retired professor. �You traumatized him, wolf. Or did you forget that?�

����������� �I will never forget that night, Severus, I don�t need you to remind me of it every second.�

����������� �You don�t even remember the night,� Severus hissed. �You have nothing to forget. Stay away from Harry if you know what�s good for you, Lupin. You have no need to traumatize him more, thank you.�

����������� Severus stormed past Remus, leaving the man a bit shellshocked in the hallway. He didn�t bother questioning why he was even around at the moment. He was sure he would find out soon enough from the headmaster. He climbed the stairs, wondering where Harry may have run off to when he recalled one place that he had often ran to in his teen years, and he turned around and hurried downstairs. Walking out of the castle, he walked up the trail that led to the owlery. He walked up the spiraling staircase, pausing just outside the door as he considered his words, then pushed it open.

����������� He tilted his head slightly at the sight of Harry, who was sitting on the floor in the owlery, hugging his knees, his face red and tearstained. All the owls had flown up to higher shelves and were staring down at Harry in concern.

����������� �Even the birds know I�m a monster,� Harry muttered when he saw Severus step into the owlery. �They hate me. Even Hedwig.�

����������� Harry buried his face in his knees and remained silent.

����������� Severus sighed as he walked through the owlery, reaching up to stroke the white, brown-speckled owl.

����������� �They do not hate you,� Severus said. �You have merely become unfamiliar. If you allow them the chance to get to know you, the new you, they will remember the old you as well.�

����������� Hedwig jumped onto Severus�s arm at his insistence, and he kneeled next to Harry with the owl on his arm. Hedwig seemed to be taken aback by the sudden drop in height as she was brought closer to the human with the strange scents, but as she was now next to the child, she picked up a familiar scent: Harry. This was her human. It had to be. She carefully mouthed a bit of Harry�s hair in her beak before tugging sharply.

����������� Harry jerked his head up at the sharp tug, and he gave Hedwig a watery smile when she clicked her beak at him before hopping off Severus�s arm to stand on Harry�s shoulder. She nuzzled Harry�s cheek, and Harry stroked the bird, closing his eyes as he leaned into her nuzzle.

����������� Severus couldn�t help but smile at the interaction, and he slowly sat down next to Harry, stretching his legs out in front of him.

����������� �You have every reason to avoid Lupin,� Severus said. �He is the cause of such a traumatic event in your life.�

����������� Harry looked over at Severus.

����������� �However, it does not do one any good to fear a trigger for the rest of their lives. It�s unhealthy. I can attest to that. It does not do you any good on your mental state.�

����������� �You�re still afraid of werewolves,� Harry said.

����������� �You�re right,� Severus said, not allowing himself to get angry over the comment. �And I should work on that. Werewolves can be terrifying creatures, but I should not let a fear of them rule my life. Nor should you.�

����������� Harry rested his chin on his knee as he thought over Severus�s words.

����������� �I�m not afraid of Lupin.�

����������� �No. You�re afraid of what he did.�

����������� �Yeah,� Harry agreed softly. �I just . . . I remember what happened when I�m around him. Or his office. It just floods my brain.�

����������� �Ah. So perhaps a good memory might help calm that flood?�

����������� �I guess.� Harry frowned at Severus.

����������� �Remember, a patronus is about happy memories, even in our darkest moments. Think about that happy memory you�ve chosen. Embrace it, immerse yourself in it. Let it calm your fears. When you can master feeling the emotion even when you�re afraid, you will master the patronus charm.�

����������� Harry closed his eyes, his hand absently stroking Hedwig. Severus watched him for a moment before he leaned his head back against the stone wall, following his own advice as he remembered when he and Lily would venture up to the owlery with treats for all the owls.

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����������� The gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore�s office sprang aside, revealing the spiraling staircase. Severus ascended with his usual swift steps, his black robes trailing behind him. He entered the office, finding Albus seated behind his desk, his expression thoughtful. Remus sat in a small chair in front of the headmaster�s desk, leaning forward slightly as he talked in a hush voice. Their conversation ended abruptly as Severus entered the room.

����������� �Severus,� Albus greeted. He gestured to a chair that materialized next to Remus�s seat. �Please, take a seat.�

����������� �I much prefer to stand,� Severus said as he paused just to the side of the chair, his eyes narrowing in on Remus. �Lupin. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? I thought you had departed from this school . . . permanently.� �

����������� �Remus has been providing valuable information,� Albus interjected, his eyes twinkling, �regarding Sirius Black.�

����������� �Oh, now he comes forward?� Severus sneered. �Admit it, you�ve been helping that criminal this whole time, haven�t you?�

����������� �Of course not, Severus,� Lupin replied, his voice strained. �What I�ve been telling the headmaster, however, should help him locate Sirius Black, or at least give him clues to watch out for.�

����������� �And just what information are you providing that is so vital? Or is it simply an excuse to get back into the castle?�

����������� �That information,� Albus answered, his voice gentle but firm, �is still being discussed. It is not yet ready to be shared. For everyone�s safety.�

����������� Severus�s eyes narrowed, and his glares alternated between the headmaster and Remus.

����������� �Not ready? Or simply not convenient? You allow a man who has endangered a student�completely destroyed his life�back into the castle, and you refuse to disclose the reasons why? You are being remarkably vague, Headmaster.�

����������� �I assure you, Severus,� Albus said, �all will be revealed in due time. Remus�s insights are valuable. And I trust him.�

����������� �Trust?� Severus scoffed. �Trust is a luxury I cannot afford, especially when it comes to those who have betrayed it more than once. I fail to see how any of this justifies your continued presence here. You left for a reason, Lupin. A reason that directly impacted Potter.�

����������� Remus�s gaze snapped up to Severus�s, his eyes filled with remorse.

����������� �I know,� he said. �And I want to apologize to him. Properly.�

����������� Severus�s eyes darkened considerably.

����������� �You will apologize when he is ready,� Severus growled. �Not when you deem it convenient or what have you. You will leave him alone otherwise. Merlin knows you�ve traumatized him enough.�

����������� �Severus,� Albus began, a hint of warning in his voice.

����������� �No, Headmaster,� Severus interrupted. �He has already caused Potter enough pain. He will not inflict any more.�

����������� �I only wish to make amends,� Remus pleaded. �I can help him . . .�

����������� �You�ve done enough,� Severus insisted, his voice growing very cold. �Respect his boundaries. That is the only amends he requires.� Severus looked at Albus. �If that is all, I have matters to attend to, seeing as it is the start of the week leading to the full moon.�

����������� Severus fixed Remus with a cold stare.

����������� �A week that, I suspect, will find you . . . preoccupied. Perhaps you should focus on managing your own affliction rather than interfering in matters that do not concern you.�

����������� �Not much I can do there without Wolfsbane,� Remus snapped back, giving Severus a pointed glare.

����������� �Hmph, you are no longer a charity case, Lupin. Figure it out for yourself for a change.�

����������� With that, Severus gave a curt nod to Albus then turned and swept from the room.

����������� �

����������� The hushed atmosphere of the library was usually a sanctuary for Harry, its tranquility a release from the loud, chaotic noise the rest of the castle exhibited. However, this close to the full moon left him feeling very agitated with every little sound. The low rustle of turning pages and whispered conversations grated on his nerves. He was perched on the edge of his seat, his leg bouncing restlessly, his focus scattered. Hermione, ever the diligent student, sat beside him, her quill scribbling furiously across her parchment. She glanced over at Harry�s barely touched homework.

����������� �Harry, you really need to focus on the incantation,� she insisted, her voice laced with exasperation after a quick read of what he had written thus far. �That should be the focus of your essay. It�s notoriously difficult for this particular transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall even said that the enunciation of the . . .�

����������� �Hermione, just shut up!� Harry growled, briefly covering his ears for a moment before running his fingers through his fringe frustratedly. He slammed his book shut, the resounding thud drawing startled glances from nearby students. �I get it, okay? Just leave me alone.�

����������� Hermione recoiled slightly; her eyes wide at his outburst.

����������� �I was just trying to help . . .�

����������� �Yeah, well, I don�t need your help,� he snarled. �I need silence.�

����������� Ron, who had been quietly working at the opposite end of the table, looked at Harry with a concerned frown.

����������� �What�s gotten into you?� he asked. �That�s not fair to Hermione.�

����������� �Oh, so now you�re going to lecture me, too?� Harry asked, baring his teeth the slightest, his voice rising. �Just stay out of it, Ron!�

����������� �You�re being a right git, right now,� Ron said, his frown deepening. �Look, I understand that maybe this time of month is hard��

����������� �You couldn�t possibly understand anything!� Harry yelled, jumping to his feet, his chair scraping the hard floor as it jerked back.

����������� �SHHHH!� The librarian�s voice boomed from across the room, her eyes narrowed, and her finger pressed to her lips. Several students turned to stare, their faces a mixture of curiosity and disapproval at their work being interrupted.

����������� Harry�s chest heaved, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He felt a surge of adrenaline that flooded him with a primal urge to lash out, to break something, anything. He wanted to scream, to run, to escape the suffocating pressure building inside him. Hermione and Ron were staring at him with a mix of hurt and concern on their faces, and that made Harry want to snap at them more for their pity, and he bit down on his tongue to repress the yearning.

����������� �Mr. Potter,� a low, familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

����������� Harry�s head snapped to the right, and he watched as Severus slowly heading for their table with a slight frown, his arms crossed and his robes billowing around slightly as he moved down the aisle of books, his eyes fixed on Harry.

����������� �Your presence,� Severus said, �is disrupting the peace of this establishment. I suggest you remove yourself immediately.�

����������� He was disrupting the peace? The peace had been disrupted long ago by the constant shuffling of books, the pitter patter of feet, and the mutter of nosy students watching him like this was some kind of comedy special. He glared at Severus, his jaw clenched.

����������� �Fine,� he spat, grabbing his books and shoving them into his bag, which he threw over his shoulder. He glanced at Hermione, then Ron, muttering, �I�ll be in our dorm room.� �

����������� Harry stormed away, moving past Severus quickly to avoid further scolding. However, Severus turned sharply on his heels and followed him out of the library, his expression unreadable. He caught up to Harry in the deserted corridor, his hand gripping Harry�s arm tightly.

����������� �That was a rather dramatic display,� he drawled, �even for you.�

����������� Harry jerked his arm away, pulling free of his guardian.

����������� �Just leave me alone,� he demanded.

����������� �I think not,� Severus said, his voice firm. �You are clearly struggling, and I will not stand by and watch you alienate your friends with such . . . uncivilized behavior.� He grabbed Harry�s arm again, holding tight when Harry tried yanking away once more. �You will accompany me to my quarters. Now.�

����������� �Absolutely not,� Harry said, digging his heels into the ground to keep from being pulled. �I�m not going to your dungeon. I just need . . . to calm down, find somewhere quiet. My dorm would work perfectly fine.�

����������� �Quiet?� Severus raised an eyebrow. �After that outburst in the library? I hardly think your dorm room will provide the level of tranquility you require.�

����������� �Beats going down to the dungeons.�

����������� �I see. Do you recall what I told you would happen during the week leading up to the full moon?�

����������� Harry�s eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. How could he forget about that?

����������� �That starts today?� he asked.

����������� �Indeed,� Severus confirmed. �And a good thing, too, seeing as you�ve already forgotten your protocol. You are staying down in my quarters for the next week, where I will make sure you get your Wolfsbane and where I can monitor your condition. You are in no state to be alone, especially not in a dorm filled with potentially overstimulating distractions.�

����������� �But can�t I just take��

����������� �No arguments. Your safety and the safety of everyone else in this school is paramount, and we will not have a repeat of last month. And frankly, after that display, some enforced isolation might do you some good. Now let�s go.�

����������� Harry didn�t resist as Severus pulled him down the hall, and he sulkily followed after his professor down to the man�s quarters where he would be stuck staying for the next week. Too bad he didn�t get a chance to warn his friends.

����������� Severus led him through the silent corridors, and in no time, they reached his private quarters, and Severus only released his grip on Harry�s arm when they entered, the door shutting softly behind him. Harry rubbed his arm absently as he looked around the room, reminding himself of the layout. It was all an open concept, the living room blended into a small kitchenette, he only seating there being the island that had barstools shoved up against it. The most fascinating part of Severus�s quarters was the nook where Severus�s desk sat surrounded by bookshelves, a large window in front of it displaying the evening sky that was darkening quickly.

����������� �Sit,� Severus instructed once he had his teaching robe off, leaving him in just his frock coat and dark trousers. He pointed at the brown sofa pointedly when Harry did not move right away.

����������� Harry sank into the plush sofa, his shoulders slumping with a mixture of guilt and relief. Severus settled into the armchair opposite him, his expression still rather unreadable. Harry sighed, still feeling a bit guilty for how he had treated his friends earlier. They didn�t deserve his temper.

����������� �I�m sorry for my outburst earlier,� Harry mumbled, staring down at his hands resting in his lap. �I didn�t mean to snap at them.� ��

����������� �I understand,� Severus said. �This week has already begun to take its toll on you. I can see that. Your control over your emotions and instincts is waning.�

����������� Harry looked up at his professor, surprised by the lack of condemnation in his voice.

����������� �It�s getting harder,� Harry admitted. �The closer it gets to the full moon the more . . . on edge I feel. Like I want to explode and just . . . punch everyone or something. I don�t know.�

����������� �Then we must find a way to channel that energy,� Severus said. �To control it, rather than letting it control you.�

����������� Severus rose and retrieved a couple small, velvet cushions from one of the bookshelves surrounding his nook. He walked back out to his living room with them, fluffing them out and patting the dust out of them.

����������� �Have you ever tried meditation?� he asked.

����������� Harry shook his head.

����������� �It is an ancient practice,� Severus explained, �a way to quiet the mind and find inner peace. It can be a powerful tool for controlling your emotions, especially during times of overstimulation and stress. It is the first step in mastering Occlumency, a mental form of magic that allows one to really control every aspect of their inner being. We will discuss more on that later, but first, you will practice meditation with me.�

����������� Harry made a face as the mental image of himself and Severus sitting on plush cushions cross-legged, hands in Gyan mudra as they both chanted �om� repeatedly, and he just managed to keep himself from snorting in amusement as he slid off the sofa when Severus put the two cushions down.

����������� Severus sat down on one cushion, crossing his legs and sitting up straight and tall. To Harry�s disappointment, he did not make any strange hand gestures, just rested his hands over his knees, and Harry copied him on the other cushion, trying his best to sit up straight and tall.

����������� �Close your eyes,� Severus instructed, closing his own eyes, �and focus on your breathing. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Let your thoughts come and go, observe them, but do not engage them.�

����������� He really is delusional, Harry thought as he tried to focus on his breathing. Such cryptic nonsense, what is he on about? Breathe in, breathe out, this is so silly, what is the point of this?

����������� �Your breathing is erratic,� Severus observed. �Focus on the rhythm. Inhale slowly. Exhale slowly. Let the air fill your lungs, then release it completely.�

����������� �I know how to breathe, thank you,� Harry said. Focus on your own breathing.

����������� �Indeed,� Severus said, opening his eyes to glare at Harry. �One would hope so, considering your continued existence. However, there is a distinct difference between the involuntary act of respiration and the deliberate control of one�s breath as a means of focusing the mind. A difference, I might add, that you seem to be struggling to grasp.�

����������� Harry bit back a retort.

����������� �Do as I do,� Severus said. �Breath in . . . now breathe out. Breathe in . . . and now breathe out. Keep them slow. Again, breathe in . . .�

����������� Harry kept his eyes closed and followed along with Severus�s breathing. Surprisingly, he felt his body relaxing, the tension leaving as he controlled his breathing. However, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The anticipation of the full moon, the lingering guilt from his outburst in the library, and the constant fear of losing control all swirled within him, making it impossible to find any semblance of peace despite the relaxation he was starting to feel.

����������� �It�s not working,� Harry whined, opening his eyes once more, �my mind won�t shut up.�

����������� �That is precisely why we are here,� Severus said, a bit of impatience in his voice, though he did not open his eyes. �Meditation is not about silencing your thoughts. It is about observing them, acknowledging them, and then letting them pass, like . . . clouds drifting by.�

����������� Severus paused as he considered how else to imagine this for Harry.

����������� �Imagine your thoughts as leaves floating down a stream,� Severus said, his voice softer. �You are standing on the bank, watching them drift by. Do not try to grab them, do not stop them from going down the stream. Simply observe them, and let them float away.�

����������� Harry closed his eyes again, picturing the image Severus had described for him. He imagined a gentle stream, its surface reflecting the yellow light of the setting sun. HE saw leaves, each carrying a thought as it drifted down the current. At first, the leaves were a bit chaotic, swirling and bumping into each other. But gradually, as Harry immersed himself in this image, focusing on the rhythm of the stream, they began to flow more smoothly.

����������� �Now,� Severus�s voice interrupted somewhere in the back of his head, �focus on your senses. What do you hear? What do you smell? What do you feel?�

����������� Harry listened intently. He heard the soft crackle of the fire in the living room he was in, then the distant hooting of an owl, the gentle ticking of a clock on the mantelpiece. He smelled the faint aroma of herbs and old parchment, and something that smelled like spices and subtle cologne. He felt the soft velvet of the cushion beneath him, the warmth of the fire on his skin, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he continued to control his breathing.

����������� �Acknowledge these sensations,� Severus said, and then let them go. Do not cling to them or dwell on them. Simply observe, then return to your breathing.�

����������� They continued the meditation for another half hour, the silence broken only by Severus�s occasional instructions. Harry found that, with practice, he was able to quiet his mind and find a sense of calm despite the inner rage.

����������� �Now,� Severus said, �I want you to focus on the anger, the frustration, the fear you feel. Do not push it away or suppress it. Simply observe, acknowledge, then let it dissipate.�

����������� Harry hesitated, then allowed the emotions to surface. He felt a surge of anger, the tightness in his chest he had felt earlier in the library returning full force, the hurt he saw in Hermione�s eyes triggering the guilt. But instead of fighting the emotions, he observed how they made him feel, allowing them a moment to build within him.

����������� �Imagine that anger and frustration, that fear, as a dark cloud within you. Imagine it slowly dissolving away, like mist over your stream.�

����������� With such vivid detail, Harry was able to replicate that image in his head. He pictured the dark cloud swirling above his stream, then imagined the warm rays of the sun piercing the darkness, and the cloud dissolved into wisps of vapor, and Harry physically felt the weight lift off his chest and his breath shuddered slightly, the surprise of it catching him off guard.

����������� �Good,� Severus said. �Return to your breathing. Feel the peace that remains.�

����������� Harry took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly, feeling the last of the tension within him drain from his body, leaving him feeling completely relaxed. Huh, this stuff actually works. Who knew? He opened his eyes, finding Severus watching him with that same passive expression he�d had most of the night.

����������� �How do you feel?� Severus asked.

����������� �Calmer,� Harry admitted. �Thanks for teaching me.�

����������� �Meditation is a tool,� Severus said, dismissing Harry�s gratitude. �It is a skill that requires practice. But with time and dedication, you can learn to control your emotions, even in the worst of scenarios.� He stood, then offered Harry a hand up. �We will practice this every day. I believe this is a crucial skill for you to know.�

����������� Harry accepted the hand and allowed Severus to pull him to his feet.

����������� �Would it help with facing a dementor? When can I try that again?�

����������� �Your boggart has changed, Potter. A real dementor will be considerably more challenging now. We need to be certain you can control your emotions before we attempt taking on an actual dementor, starting with controlling the primal instincts your werewolf half gives you.�

����������� Disappointment pricked Harry, but he understood Severus�s reasoning.

����������� �It is late,� Severus said, and Harry glanced at the window, his eyes widening at the dark sky. �Head to your room and ready for bed. I had a house elf collect a few of your things. Lights out in an hour. I will bring you your potion before then.�

����������� �Yes, sir.�

 

����������� Later that night, with a stack of graded essays piled on his desk ready to be handed back to students, Severus retreated into the sanctuary of his own mind. He closed is eyes and practiced his Occlumency, his thoughts swirling like mist before settling into an impenetrable stillness. Tonight, Occlumency practice was not about shielding his mind but surrendering to the quiet depths within�and what that tended to bring out.

����������� He had found, over the years, that his animagus form offered a unique form of mental release. The complete absence of human thought was profoundly relaxing. He allowed his mind to drift, to follow the ebb and flow of his breath, until the edges of consciousness began to blur.

����������� He felt the familiar warmth spreading through his limbs, the subtle shift in his bones, the tightening of his muscles. He felt the scales forming beneath his skin, the lengthening of his spine, the widening of his jaw. With a final, silent shift, Severus Snape was gone.

����������� In his place, coiled on the seat of his chair, was a magnificent Burmese python, seventeen feet long, cream colored with dark brown blotches along his back and sides. His head rested on his coils, his eyes fixed on nothing particular, only his tongue flicking out to test the air around him.

����������� Like this, there was no thought, no worry, no fear. Only the pure, unadulterated sensation of being. He felt his muscles relax, his mind empty, his body at peace. This was his sanctuary, his escape from the burdens of human life. The ultimate level of Occlumency.

����������� Years ago, he had the unfortunate displeasure of discovering three students who had mastered becoming Animagi, and as they were his rivals, Severus had taken the task as a challenge and spent the next several months going through his own illegal process until he too succeeded in becoming an animagus. Of course, he had told no one of his gift save for a very close friend, and unfortunately, the Dark Lord. At the time, he had saw it as a unique advantage he had over his fellow Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord was rather impressed with his form. He was larger than Nagini, though not nearly as thick around, nor venomous, but the Dark Lord had seen opportunity in Severus�s form.

����������� Unfortunately, opportunity turned into control.

����������� Severus did his best to never need his animagus form around the Dark Lord, unless he was specifically asked to shift. And when he had switched sides and saw the demise of the Dark Lord, it had been an immense relief.

����������� Yet even he knew this relief was temporary, but he enjoyed it while it lasted.

����������� Before retiring for the night, a quiet instinct led him to Harry�s room, and he slithered off the chair and across the hall over to Harry�s room, his sleek body sliding effortlessly through the narrow gap of the ajar door. He paused just inside the doorway, lifting his head enough to check on the sleeping child, flicking his tongue out. �

����������� Except the child was not asleep.

����������� Harry was still awake, and his eyes widened at the sight of the large snake. Then, his eyes quickly narrowed into a look of concentration as he tilted his head slightly, shifting in his bed to face the doorway. Suddenly, a series of low and high hisses filled the room, sending a shiver down the snake�s spine.

����������� �Hello,� Harry greeted in Parseltongue. �What�s your name?�

����������� The python�s head cocked in surprise. He hadn�t heard the hissing syllables since his days serving the Dark Lord, save for the one time he had heard Harry speak it to snake during dueling club last year, but that had been in his human form, so he had not understood him then. He lowered himself and slithered into the room, moving closer to Harry, drawn by a mixture of curiosity and deep-seated unnerve.

����������� �You should be asleep,� he answered, his voice a low hiss as he neared Harry�s bed, then rose himself up until he was eye level with Harry. �Why are you still awake?�

����������� �Couldn�t sleep,� Harry said, smiling at the serpent. �Are you Snape�s familiar?�

����������� �That�s Professor Snape to you, imprudent brat.�

����������� �Professor?� Harry asked, his eyes widening as he sat up a bit. �Oh, you�re like Professor McGonagall. An animagus.�

����������� �Yes.�

����������� �That�s amazing!� Harry said, his initial surprise turning into fascination as he sat up all the way and inched closer to the snake. �What a cool animagus. Kind of fitting for the Head of Slytherin, huh? Does your animagus have its own name?�

����������� �A friend called me . . .� the python flicked its tongue out. �Flick.�

����������� �Flick,� Harry repeated, a smile tugging on his lips. �I like it. What friend named you that?�

����������� �An old friend,� Flick replied, leaving it at that.

����������� �Does someone else always pick your name for your animagus?� Harry wondered. �What if I become an animagus.�

����������� �You better not,� Flick hissed with an angry tone. �It is illegal until you are of age. It is a long and potentially dangerous process.�

����������� �When did you become one?� Harry pressed.

����������� �That is beside the point,� Flick said. He crawled his way up the bed, and Harry watched him with a bit of marvel at his length and size. �Why can you not sleep? Is it the room? The bed?�

����������� �I don�t know,� Harry said, resting his cheek into his hand, his gaze following Flick's slow, deliberate movements across the bed. �I�m just not tired now. Earlier, when we were practicing meditation, it was really calming. Like all the noise in my head just stopped. But now, in bed, it's like all that quiet just turned into nothing. Just empty. And it's keeping me awake. Like I�m waiting for something to fill the silence." He paused, frowning slightly. "Or maybe . . . maybe it's because I'm thinking about everything. You know, full moon, living down here for a week, classes, friends I hurt, you know, everything."

����������� Flick watched him, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's face. The Parseltongue, so smooth and natural from the boy, still sent shivers down his scaled spine. He visibly shuddered, the movement rippling through his long body. Harry paused and frowned at the snake.

����������� "Forgive me," Flick hissed, his voice low and apologetic. "I've not spoken to a Parselmouth in many years. Hearing it now is . . . a bit unsettling."

"Who was the last Parselmouth you spoke to?" Harry asked, tilting his head. "Was it . . . Voldemort?"

����������� Flick's reaction was immediate and violent.

"Do not say his name!" he hissed, his body coiling defensively, fangs exposed. The sudden outburst startled Harry, who flinched back against the pillows. Flick, realizing his reaction, uncoiled slightly, his eyes filled with a strange mix of regret and something akin to fear.

"My apologies," he said, his voice softer now. "It's difficult to control primitive reactions. Yes, the Dark Lord was the last speaker I spoke to." He looked away, his gaze fixed on the shadows in the corner of the room. "All of this . . . it brings back memories."

Harry, despite his initial shock, felt a pang of sympathy for the snake. He could sense the weight of the past, the lingering echoes of fear and darkness.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Harry said quietly.

�I am fine. You need to sleep.� Flick slithered off the bed while Harry crawled back under the covers.

�Flick?� Harry asked as the snake rose up to his eye level once more. �I read that sometimes having an animal present can help calm a werewolf. Even better than Wolfsbane alone. Animals aren�t seen as a threat by . . .�

The unspoken word hung heavy in the air. Flick, despite his growing concern and care for Harry, felt a primal fear hit him full force. Even knowing it was Harry, even knowing he would have the Wolfsbane on board, the thought of being in a confined space with a werewolf, even in his animagus form, was something he was not ready for.

Flick slowly shifted and morphed, the scales smoothing out into skin as Severus morphed back into his human self, and he looked down at Harry with a serious gaze.

�No, Potter,� Severus said firmly. �You will be alone on the night of the full moon. I have far too much to do then sit in my animagus form watching over you. Now please, it is late. Go to sleep.�

�I told you, I couldn�t,� Harry argued, tossing over on his back and staring up at Severus with a defeated look.

�You�ve barely tried,� Severus said, resting a hand over Harry�s forehead. �Close your eyes and focus on your breathing, just like during meditation.�

While Harry did as he was instructed, Severus used a calming spell, one that was generally used to ease anxiety away, but it also had the side effect of sedation, and with Harry focused on his breathing, it did not take long for him to drift off into slumber. Severus sighed in relief before he studied the child before him, his expression softening slightly. He gently pulled the covers up to Harry's chin, ensuring he was comfortable.

Severus dragged a hand down his face. He knew he had been harsh, but the primal fear he felt at the mere suggestion of being near a werewolf was something he couldn't easily dismiss. He had spent years battling his own inner demons, and the thought of facing another, even in its transformed state, was unbearable.

He lingered for a moment, watching Harry's peaceful face. The boy's vulnerability, his quiet strength, and his ability to speak Parseltongue all swirled together in Severus's mind, creating a complex and conflicting mix of emotions.

With a final, silent glance, Severus turned and walked towards the door. He paused, his hand resting on the knob, and looked back at Harry. A low, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips.

As he closed the door behind him, Severus whispered, "Sleep well, Harry."

����������� �

�����������

����������� �There you are!� Seamus exclaimed when Harry walked up to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for breakfast. �Where did you go last night? We all thought Black must have gotten you for sure.�

����������� �Right,� Hary began, shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact with his housemates as all eyes seemed to turn on him. He quickly slipped into a seat next to Ron and Hermione as he recalled what Severus had told him to tell anyone who asked about where he was staying currently. �About where I�m staying for now. Dumbledore moved me. Temporarily.�

����������� �Moved you wear?� Dean asked.

����������� �Well,� Harry said as he piled food on his plate, only speaking loud enough to be heard by his immediate dormmates. �Professor Snape�s quarters.�

����������� A collective gasp rippled through everyone close enough that heard what Harry said while Dean and Seamus exchanged horrified gasps. Ron and Hermione shared concerned looks with each other.

����������� �Snape�s quarters?� Dean repeated, his eyes wide. �Are you serious?�

����������� �Dumbledore said it�s for my safety,� Harry explained, trying to sound as convincing as possible. �With the uptick in Black sightings near Hogsmeade, especially after . . . you know, after he got into the tower last time. It�s just until Black disappears again, but he could be plotting another break in.�

����������� �But . . . Snape?� Seamus shivered. �Isn�t that like putting you in the lion�s den?�

����������� �You mean the snake pit,� Dean snickered as he elbowed Seamus.

����������� �Dumbledore said it was the most secure place,� Harry insisted, his eyes meeting Ron�s and Hermione�s as if pleading for a bit of back up. They nodded in agreement.

����������� �Professor Dumbledore wouldn�t do it if it wasn�t necessary,� Hermione said firmly, sounding very confident in her words. �He has to look out for Harry since Black is clearly after him.�

����������� �Besides,� Ron added, �it�s Snape. I don�t think many people want to run into Snape if they don�t have to.�

����������� Dean and Seamus, though still clearly uneasy, seemed to accept the explanation, albeit reluctantly.

����������� �True,� Dean said. �I certainly wouldn�t want to run into the dungeon bat, even if I was a mass murderer myself.�

����������� �Just be careful,� Seamus said. �Let us know if anything weird happens.�

����������� �Of course.� Harry nodded, relieved that he�d managed to avoid any further questioning. �But don�t worry. I doubt it�ll last more than a week or so. It really is temporary.�

Everyone ate breakfast quietly, only discussing bits and pieces of homework assignments that may or may not be due yet. When Dean and Seamus walked away and everyone else seemed too engorged in their own discussions, Ron and Hermione turned to Harry, their expressions shifting from supportive to concern.

����������� �Spill it,� Ron said, keeping his voice low. �How�s it actually going? Is it horrendous?�

����������� �Ron!� Hermione hissed through her teeth before meeting Harry�s eyes. �What he means to say is how has Snape been treating you?�

����������� �It�s not been terrible,� Harry answered honestly.

����������� Ron�s eyebrows shot up.

����������� �Not terrible?� he said in disbelief. �You�re living with Snape for a week.�

����������� �I know, I know,� Harry said, rubbing the back of his head. �But he�s been okay, ever since this all started actually. He�s really not been so terrible. He�s really helping me with everything and he�s just making sure I actually get all the Wolfsbane this time around. He even walked me through meditation.�

����������� �Meditation?� Ron�s eyebrows could not possibly rise anymore. �Like namaste and all that?�

����������� �Not quite.� Harry laughed as he remembered having very similar thoughts. �I know it sounds crazy, but I really don�t think I�ll mind staying with Snape for the week. He�s been . . . different.�

����������� �See?� Hermione�s eyes sparkled as she smiled. �I told you Snape would be what you needed.�

����������� �Yeah, yeah,� Ron said with an eye roll. �Still, mate. Living with Snape? That�s got to be weird.�

����������� �It is,� Harry admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. �But it�s been okay. More okay that I expected.�

 

����������� The small cottage stood nestled deep within a thicket of ancient oaks and towering pines. A large pond sat behind the cottage, a thin layer of misty fog hovering over the crystal-clear water. Albus, his eyes twinkling as always, gestured towards the building.

����������� �Charming, isn�t it, Severus?� he asked. �Quite secluded.�

����������� Severus, his expression as austere as ever, surveyed the cottage and the surrounding forest with a critical eye. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine needles, and the silence was only broken by the rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird.

����������� The cottage itself was a patchwork of weathered stone and dark, aged timber. It�s thatched roof, thick with moss and patched with uneven straw, sagged slightly in the middle, as if weary of the elements. The windows, small and grimy, were set haphazardly into the walls, some crooked, some square, none offering a clear view of the interior. A single warped door, it�s paint peeling in long grey stripes, hung slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of shadowed interior. The surrounding garden, if it could be called that, was a tangle of overgrown weeds, brambles, and gnarled, untended rose bushes, their thorny branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. A broken, rusted iron gate, half buried in the undergrowth, hinted at a forgotten attempt at a more civilized boundary.

����������� Severus turned his head enough to glare at Albus, who merely continued smiling at him patiently.

����������� �Secluded,� Severus finally said, looking back at the cottage. �And conveniently located in the middle of absolutely nowhere. A monument to rustic despair, if I may be so bold.�

����������� �Precisely!� Albus said cheerfully. �Far from prying eyes and any potential . . . threats. A perfect sanctuary for Hary during the summer months.�

����������� �If this is perfect, we might as well as spend the summer at my home in Spinner�s End. Who�d know the difference?�

����������� �Don�t worry,� Albus said as he began walking up to the cottage. �I�ll have a house elf fix up the place before summer comes. You�ll hardly recognize the cottage when she�s through with it.�

����������� Severus sighed heavily before he followed Albus, who pushed the warped wooden door fully open, a creak echoing through the still forest. The interior was dim, the small, grimy windows allowing only a sliver of the afternoon light to penetrate. A musty, almost earthy smell hung in the air, a blend of damp wood and old parchment, and something faintly floral, perhaps dried herbs.

����������� �Cozy, wouldn�t you say?� Albus murmured, stepping inside. He lit a candle with a quick flick of his finger, offering some light in the room. He ran a hand along a rough-hewn wooden table, its surface covered in a layer of dust. �Full of character.�

����������� Severus followed, his robes brushing against the low doorway. He scanned the single room with a disdainful frown. The floor was uneven, made of cracked flagstones, and a threadbare rug lay askew in front of a cold hearth. The single, flickering candle cast long shadows across the walls, revealing cobwebs strung between the rafters like ghostly lace. Books, their spines faded and cracked, were piled chaotically on shelves that sagged under their weight. A chipped porcelain teapot sat on a small, rickety stove; its spout blackened with soot.

����������� �Character,� Severus echoed Albus�s words, his voice dry. �Or perhaps simply neglect. The air is thick with the scent of decay in this disgusting rut.�

����������� Severus paused, frowning for a moment before he pointed to a stain on the floor, a dark irregular mark.

����������� �And what, pray tell, is that?� Severus asked, making a face at the many ideas that crossed his mind.

����������� Albus peered at the stain, his eyes still twinkling.

����������� �Perhaps spilled tea?� he suggested. �One never knows what surprises these old cottages hold.�

����������� Albus wandered over to the bookshelf, his fingers tracing the titles.

����������� �Ah, look, Severus. A collection of herbology texts. Quite extensive.�

����������� Severus bit his tongue to keep from snapping at the headmaster as he turned his attention to the fireplace, then shivered suddenly as a chill suddenly fell over him, a stark contrast to the musty warmth that had previously permeated the cottage.

����������� Suddenly, a spectral figure materialized from the shadows, its translucent form shimmering faintly in the candlelight. The ghost, clad in tattered Victorian-era clothing, let out a raspy, guttural moan, his wispy white hair swaying in the nonexistent breeze.

����������� Albus simply raised his eyebrows as he walked over to Severus to see the ghost, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

����������� �Ah, a resident ghost,� he remarked. �Well, well, well, how fascinating. A bit of a drafty old place, isn�t it?�

����������� Severus, however, was not amused. His face contorted in a mixture of annoyance and exasperation as he slapped a hand over his face, dragging it down slowly.

����������� �Albus,� Severus hissed through his teeth, �I really do believe you could have mentioned this little . . . inconvenience beforehand.�

����������� The ghost, seemingly taken aback by the lack of fear, let out a startled squeak and vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only a lingering trail of ice air. Albus chuckled, shaking his head.

����������� �Don�t be such a spoilsport,� Albus said. �A bit of ghostly company never hurt anyone. Besides, exorcisms are rather simple affairs, you know.�

����������� �I swear, Albus,� Severus said, his voice muffled by his hand, �you have a knack for finding the most . . . charming places.�

����������� After checking out the rest of the cottage, and ensuring there were no more residential ghosts, Albus and Severus agreed that the location was secure enough, and secluded enough, to be a haven for Harry during the summer months. While Albus promised to make sure the ghost was removed and a house elf or two would come fix up the cottage, Severus began adding strengthened security wards. Albus watched as Severus meticulously traced a series of complex symbols in the air, ancient runes known for power and secrecy, his wand tip glowing with a soft emerald light as the symbols etched into the wall.

����������� �Ready, Severus?� Albus inquired as he stepped closer, his own wand hovering above a section of the wall.

����������� Severus nodded curtly and said, �As I�ll ever be, Headmaster.�

����������� With a synchronized sweep of their wands, the two wizards unleashed a torrent of magical energy, the air crackling and humming with power. The runes on the wall ignited, their glow intensifying until they seemed to pulse with life for several seconds before the glow died down, fading slowly before extinguishing with a quick pop, the symbols vanishing.

����������� As the wards settled around the property, a sense of calm descended upon the cottage, the air once again still and silent. Dumbledore smiled, a satisfied expression on his face.

����������� �There. The wards are stronger than ever. No one will be able to find or breach this place now.�

����������� �Good,� Severus said with a nod. �This will be a good haven for Potter when school is finished.�

����������� �And you will accompany him,� Albus said, more reiterating what they had agreed on. ����

����������� �Yes. But only until a more suitable guardian can be found.�

����������� �Of course.�

�����������

����������� The dimly lit kitchen of Snape�s quarters was unusually warm, a stark contrast to the chill that often permeated the dungeons. Harry perched on a high stool at the kitchen island, idly tracing patterns on the polished countertop, the silence broken only by the faint crackling of the fire in the adjoining sitting room. The aroma of spices hung in the air, a testament to the meal that was about to materialize.

Severus emerged from his potion supply closet, a small, dark vial in his hand.

�Your potion, Potter,� he said, setting the vial down in front of Harry. �Take it now, before dinner.�

Harry took the vial, his expression resigned. He downed the potion in one swift gulp, wincing slightly at the familiar bitter taste that always left him nauseated and weak. He made a face as he smacked his lips, his stomach churning slightly before settling once more.

�Right.� Harry swallowed a few more times as he set the vial aside. �Done.�

As if on cue, a series of soft pops echoed through the kitchen, and two plates laden with steaming food materialized on the island. The smell made Harry�s stomach growl and he sniffed the delicious meal before he grabbed his fork and began shoveling the food, only slowing down at Severus�s glare.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Harry spoke.

�So, where did you disappear to all day? You were gone for hours.�

�That is of no concern to you, Potter.�

�Right, of course. Nothing�s ever my concern.� Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ah, the Potter eyeroll,� Severus said, smirking slightly. �A classic demonstration of your profound lack of self-control. I suggest you attempt to restrain them, lest they become permanently affixed in that position."

Harry, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes again, decided to change the subject.

�Fine,� he said, after swallowing a bite of food. �If you won�t tell me what you did, I�ll tell you what I did. I spent most of my day in the library, mostly. With Ron and Hermione. We did a lot of reading.�

�I trust you were reviewing your assigned texts?� Severus asked.

�Actually,� Harry confessed, �I was reading about werewolves. Theories, mostly.�

�Theories?� Severus quirked a brow. �I sincerely hope you were not neglecting your studies for such frivolous pursuits.�

�They weren�t frivolous,� Harry insisted. �There were some interesting ideas. Like, one book mentioned using a specific blend of silverleaf and moonpetal to, like, dampen the . . . the rage. It said it might not stop the will to hunt, but it could make it less . . . violent.�

Severus scoffed.

�Silverleaf and moonpetal? A concoction based on very little thought process, it would seem. And it is highly dangerous. Incorrectly prepared, silverleaf alone can cause severe internal damage. And moonpetal has a variety of unpredictable effects on magical beings.�

�Aconite is poisonous, but you use that in Wolfsbane,� Harry argued.

�The amount I use merely sedates a wolf. Silverleaf is exactly as it sounds�it�s made of silver. And unless you forgot, you are highly allergic to that.�

�Well . . . it�s just a theory! And there was another one, about a ritual. A kind of . . . of focused meditation, combined with certain incantations. It said it could help a werewolf connect with the wolf inside, and . . . and maybe control it.�

�Rituals and incantations,� Severus repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. �Potter, lycanthropy is a complex magical affliction, not a matter for amateur spell-casting and wishful thinking. Those kinds of methods are based on ancient superstitions and would likely change nothing at all. Or worse, cause more harm than good.�

�But what if . . .?� Harry began, but Severus cut him off.

�There is no �what if.� The Wolfsbane potion is the only reliable method proven to work and continues to work for many wolves around the world. End of discussion.�

Harry�s shoulders slumped slightly; his enthusiasm dampened. He had hoped for a more open discussion with Severus, but it seemed every theory he had read about was quickly being shot down. He moved his fork through the food on his plate, his appetite diminished now. Why had he even bothered sharing what he had read with Severus? Even Hermione, as skeptical as she was, had been more open to theories on different ways of controlling the wolf within him.

It wasn�t that he was against Wolfsbane. No, he knew he needed it so he didn�t hurt anyone. But the Wolfsbane left him feeling hollowed out, a shell of himself. The constant nausea, the weakness that lingered in his system, and the unsettling sense of being disconnected from his own body as it took hold over him closer and closer to the Full Moon left a bitter taste in his mouth. It felt less like a cure and more like a slow, agonizing poisoning. He yearned for a way to manage his condition that didn't strip him of his vitality, a way to coexist with the wolf within without sacrificing his own sense of self. The idea of controlling his transformations, of finding a way to live with who he had become, was all he really wanted now.

But was it even possible?

He felt Severus�s eyes on him, and he was sure his professor was deciding whether or not to scold him for not eating, but instead, he heard a low sigh from Severus before he spoke.

�There is one theory,� he said, �that has some merit. Though it is entirely untested.�

Harry�s eyes lit up.

�What is it?� he asked.

�The theory suggests that as a werewolf learns to control himself while under the influence of Wolfsbane, the dosage could be gradually reduced,� Severus explained. �The premise is that the innate drive to kill stems primarily from a lack of control and understanding of one's transformed state. Fear exacerbates this, preventing the werewolf from focusing on and learning to control the wolf, and instead act as a wild beast and attack other humans. While under the Wolfsbane, a wolf can learn to calm their own mind and suppress the urge to act violently. By slowly decreasing the potion, the werewolf may learn to manage the transformation with less external influence.�

Harry�s breath caught in his throat.

�So . . . so it�s possible to . . . to control it without the potion?�

�Theoretically,� Severus said, his voice laced with caution. �But it would require years of consistent potion use and rigorous self-discipline. And it has never been attempted. Now does it make a wolf any less dangerous. The power and drive to kill will always remain, and if provoked, can be drawn out of any werewolf, no matter how well controlled they believe themselves to be.�

�But . . . but it could work,� Harry asked.

�Potter,� Severus said, his voice firm. �Do not entertain such foolish notions. This is a highly dangerous and untested theory. And before you get any ideas, this would require years of potion use, and a control that you currently lack.�

�I could learn though,� Harry said. �What would I need to do?�

Severus�s eyes narrowed.

�You would need to master the potion, to understand its effects on your body and mind. You would need to learn to meditate, to control your emotions, to separate yourself from the beast within. You would need to be able to control your anger no matter what form you are in. To control your impulse to lunge and attack no matter what imperceivable threat comes your way. You would need to possess discipline that you, at present, demonstrably lack. And even then, it is a gamble. One wrong move, one moment of weakness, and you could become a danger to yourself and everyone around you.�����

����������� So, a lot more namaste was in his future, but he could live with that. He nodded his head in understanding. He wanted nothing more now than to learn to be the calmest person that ever existed on the planet. He could do it. He knew he could.

����������� �This is about more than controlling yourself,� Severus continued, giving Harry a curious look. �You must understand both your human half and your wolf half and how they make you one whole.�

����������� Well, that sounded awfully cryptic. But Harry refused to allow any of what Severus was saying deter him from immediately wanting to begin practicing whatever it took to free him of the Wolfsbane. It was more than that, though. He just wanted freedom again. To be free of the fear that a raging monster within him would destroy everything he knew and loved. He needed to control it.

����������� �It�s not necessarily about control but embracing what you�ve become,� Severus added at the end.

����������� More cryptic stuff. Harry nodded his head. Control, embracing, they were pretty much the same thing, right?

����������� Severus sighed once more.

����������� �You�ll want to practice your meditation more. We can work on that tonight.�

����������� �Thanks, sir,� Harry said with a grin. He moved to stand up, but Severus shook his head, reaching across the island table to tap the space next to Harry�s half eaten dinner.

����������� �Finish your dinner,� he said sternly. �We are doing nothing until every bite is gone.�

����������� Harry collapsed back on his seat and began shoveling the food.

����������� �And if you keep eating like that,� Severus added with his usual dry sarcasm, �you will choke, and I will be forced to explain to the headmaster that you expired due to a lack of basic table manners. A rather ignominious end for the Boy Who Lived, wouldn�t you say?�

Harry swallowed a large mouthful of food, then smiled cheekily at Severus.

�If I choke, can we at least say I died heroically? Like, 'Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, bravely succumbed to a stubborn roast potato.' Sounds better, right?�

�Finish your meal, you cheeky little brat,� Severus growled.

Hary chuckled and began to eat at a more reasonable pace. He could already picture himself, years from now, standing under the full moon, completely in control, the wolf within him a part of him, not a monster to be feared. The image was so vivid, so hopeful, that he almost didn�t notice the small softening of Severus�s gaze as he watched him eat. Almost.

 

����������� For Severus, Occlumency was not merely a defense; it was a vital shield against the ever-present threat of scrutiny, a constant exercise in self-preservation, especially from that of the Dark Lord, and even Albus Dumbledore. He had honed his mental barriers over years of grim necessity, each session a painstaking effort to organize the turbulent landscape of his thoughts and emotions into an unreadable fortress. The ability to present a blank, impassive surface to the world had become as essential as breathing. He practiced with relentless discipline almost every night, in the solitude of his quarters.

����������� Yet, despite his mastery, certain memories proved stubbornly resistant to his control. The echoes of his time serving Voldemort, the choices he had made, the horrors he had witnessed and participated in�these clung to the edges of his consciousness, waiting for a moment of weakness to surge forward. The memory of Flick, his animagus form twisted into a tool of the Dark Lord's cruelty, was a particularly persistent tormentor. No matter how diligently he built his mental walls, the phantom feel of scales and the chilling echo of Parseltongue could breach his defenses, leaving him once again trapped in the suffocating grip of his past regrets.

����������� He did not blame Harry one bit for the resurfacing of these memories. They came every now and then on their own, so he was bound to struggle with his past mistakes sooner or later. And as he sat there in his armchair now, eyes closed, he could feel a memory trying to breach through his carefully built walls.

����������� The memory swam into focus, sharp and unwelcome. The damp, stone walls of a hidden chamber, torches casting dancing shadows that writhed like restless spirits. Two hulking Death Eaters shoved a bound and bloodied Auror into the center of the room, their wands never wavering. The man�s eyes, wide with terror and defiance, flickered between his captors. He was wandless and exhausted at this point, so unless he performed a miraculous feat of wandless magic, he was trapped.

����������� Then, Voldemort entered. His features were those of the charismatic wizard who had once charmed so many. Nagini, thick and menacing, was draped around his shoulders. His dark eyes, burning with cruel amusement, settled on the captive.

����������� �Well, well,� Voldemort�s voice, a smooth baritone that held the threat of a viper�s strike. �So eager to serve the Light, yet now you find yourself in the dark.�

����������� The Auror spat a mouthful of blood.

����������� �Go to hell, you monster.�

����������� A thin smile touched Voldemort�s lips, a fleeting twist of his otherwise perfect features.

����������� �Such bravery. Pity it will be wasted.� He circled the Auror slowly, his gaze piercing. �Information, Auror. That is all I require. The location of the Order�s safe houses. Your cooperation will be . . . rewarded.�

����������� Silence. The Auror�s jaw was set, his knuckles white where he gripped his bound wrists.

����������� A few facial twitches interrupted Severus�s concentration, and he took a few deep breaths and refocused on shutting down the memory.

����������� Voldemort sighed, a sound that held no trace of genuine emotion.

����������� �Perhaps a little persuasion is in order.� His gaze flicked to the corner of the room. Then came the hiss. The sibilant caress of Parseltongue that always sent a shiver down Severus�s spine, a shiver that now held the weight of bitter regret. �Flick. Come forth.�

����������� Flick slithered from the shadows, his long, patterned body moving with an unnerving fluidity. He had been waiting in the room for the Auror�s arrival at the Dark Lord�s command, and now was his chance to play his role.

����������� He moved as commanded, drawn by Voldemort�s will woven into the ancient language. He could feel the subtle pressure of Voldemort�s intent, a silken thread of control he hadn�t recognized in those early days, blinded by a twisted sense of duty and a desperate need for belonging.

����������� The Auror flinched as Flick approached, hissing softly as he tested the air. He began his ascent, a silent, inexorable climb up the man�s leg. With his lighter weight and longer build, he was able to wrap himself around victims in ways Nagini could not, and Voldemort took pleasure in the slow mental torture this had on many people. The Auror�s breath hitched, his eyes widening in alarm, but he didn�t move in fear the snake may bite him and inject him with venom, which gave Flick the chance to get a good hold on the man to keep from being kicked off.

����������� �Don�t fret,� Voldemort purred, watching with evident pleasure. �Flick is not venomous, unlike dear Nagini. But his . . . embrace . . . can be quite persuasive.�

����������� Severus growled under his breath and raised two fingers to his temples, pressing gently before letting out a breath. Let it come, he thought, then let it pass. Don�t dwell on it. Severus took several deep breaths as he tried to allow this memory to move on, but it settled down to continue replaying in his brain like a movie that refused to be paused.

����������� The interrogation continued, Voldemort�s questions swift and to the point. The Auror remained stubbornly silent, offering only weak denials and defiant glares. But Flick could sense the subtle shifts in his body language, the tremor in his muscles, the accelerated beat of his heart as he worked his way around the man�s waist. He reached the Auror�s chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing a tangible thing against his scales. Finally, he reached the man�s shoulder, his forked tongue flicking out near the sweat-dampened hair at his temple. The man had remained stock-still as the snake traveled, most likely due to fear of making a move that encouraged him to bite.

����������� �Enough,� Voldemort snapped, the patience wearing thin. �Tell me what I want to know, or you will regret the day you ever crossed me. Think of your family, Auror. We will find your wife and daughter. Their safety depends on your cooperation.�

����������� The Auror�s defiance finally cracked, replaced by a raw surge of fear.

����������� �Never! You�ll get nothing from me!�

����������� It had been the wrong thing to say, and Severus shook his head sharply, as if he might be able to shake away what would come next. Alas, it was not meant to be, and he found himself trapped in his own memories, a victim to the tragedies he had been witness to, tragedies he had been a direct cause of. He was helpless at times when certain memories refused to let go of their hold on him, a constant reminder of what he had done, of all the regrets he would forever carry.

����������� Voldemort�s dark eyes narrowed, the intensity in them almost palpable. He turned his gaze towards Flick.

����������� �Constrict.�

����������� Flick obeyed instantly, his coils tightening around the Auror�s neck with terrifying speed. The man gasped, his feet leaving the floor as Flick�s powerful muscles squeezed. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he was dragged down, hitting the stone with a sickening thud.

����������� The Auror thrashed, his hands clawing uselessly at the constricting coils, but as his arms and legs were pinned, he could not get a good hold on the snake�s body, not that his weak hand strength would have been able to pry. Voldemort�s Parseltongue hissed again, the magic woven into the words were a tangible force pressing against Flick�s very being.

����������� �Tighter.�

����������� A dull ache began to spread through Flick�s body, a protest against the unnatural strain. Yet, he had no will of his own. The Dark Lord�s command was absolute, overriding any flicker of hesitation or nascent revulsion.

����������� The Auror�s struggles grew weaker, his face contorted in agony, his eyes bulging. A wet, gurgling sound escaped his throat, followed by a trickle of foam at the corners of his mouth.

����������� �I surrender!� the Auror choked out, his voice barely a whisper. �Please . . . I�ll tell you . . .�

����������� �Loosen,� Voldemort commanded, the cruel amusement returning to his voice.

����������� Flick slackened his grip, but remained coiled around the man, a living cage. The Auror, gasping for breath, his face flushed purple, spilled the information in a rush of desperate words.

����������� �I only know of one safe house�the Dearborn residence, in East Mosely.�

����������� Voldemort listened, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. �Excellent. Such dedication to the cause. Thank you for your service.� He turned his attention back to Flick. �Kill.�

����������� The hiss was a brutal mental shove, clouding his thoughts, leaving only the imperative.

����������� Flick�s coils tightened again, the Auror�s eyes widening in horrified realization.

����������� �Wait! I told you�� His words were cut off by a strangled gasp, the sound of bones creaking under immense pressure. He foamed at the mouth as his eyes bulged once more, and blood seeped from the corners of his eyes. Then, silence. The Auror lay limp, his body twisted at an unnatural angle.

����������� �Nagini,� Voldemort said, �feast.�

����������� Flick did not like the feeling of the dead man�s warmth fading as he slithered away. Nagini approached the corpse, her forked tongue flicking out as she eyed Flick.

����������� �I could have done that,� she hissed.

����������� Flick remained silent, not wishing to argue with the beast. He would never voice his true feelings in front of Voldemort. But in the cold, dark corners of his mind, a bitter wish coiled tighter than any physical constriction: I wish it had been you.

����������� �Well done, Flick,� Voldemort hissed. �You will serve me well. As it is, you offer many advantages the other Death Eaters do not. Your skills in potions and dark arts, as well as your animagus. You are dismissed. I will summon you again when I need you.�

����������� �Yes, my lord,� Flick hissed, the Parseltongue a forced compliance.

����������� �Fuck!� Severus cursed out loud, clutching his head in his hands. �Enough! Get out of my head.�

����������� He squeezed his eyes tighter, focusing every ounce of his will, every lesson learned over years of Occlumency practice. He pictured the blank wall of his mind, smooth and impenetrable. He forced the images of the stone chamber, the dying Auror, The Dark Lord�s cruel face, and the chilling sensation of his scaled form receding, pushing them back, back into the shadowed corners of his subconscious. He focused on the feeling of his own skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet stillness of his study. Slowly, painstakingly, the intrusive memories began to recede, the sharp edges blurring, the sounds fading into a distant echo. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the mental onslaught ceased. The blank wall held. He had, at last, regained control.

����������� A soft rustling sound startled him. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see Harry standing in the doorway of his bedroom, his expression groggy with sleep.

����������� �Professor?� Harry mumbled; his voice thick with sleep. �Everything alright? I heard you . . .�

����������� Severus sighed, running a hand through his hair.

����������� �My apologies, Potter. I did not intend to wake you. I was merely having a restless moment.�

����������� �That�s okay.� Harry shuffled into the room; his expression groggy. �I wasn�t sleeping the greatest anyway. Too much on my mind, I guess. Especially since the full moon is just a couple days away now.�

����������� �Understandable,� Severus said as he stood up. �However, you need your sleep, so let�s try going back to bed now. Have you practiced your meditation?�

����������� Severus led him back into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers of the bed, and Harry climbed in, his movements slow and weary. Severus adjusted the blankets around him, a surprisingly tender gesture that felt foreign yet necessary.

����������� �Remember what we practiced?� Severus said, his voice low and calming as he sat on the edge of the bed. �The slow breaths. In . . . hold . . . out. Focus on the feeling of the air filling your lungs, then leaving.�

����������� Harry nodded, his eyes fluttering.

����������� �Like the stream,� he whispered.

����������� �Precisely,� Severus murmured. �Picture that stillness. No ripples, no disturbances. Just calm water. Breathe in . . . hold . . . and release. Feel the tension leaving your shoulders . . . your jaw . . . your forehead. Watch the stream, but do not engage with it. Let anything drifting by do just that. And drift off yourself.�

����������� Slowly, Harry�s breathing deepened, and his eyelids grew heavy, and a faint trace of peace settled over his features. Severus continued to speak in soft, measured tones, reinforcing the images of tranquility until he was sure the boy had drifted back to sleep. He remained seated for a few moments longer, watching over Harry, wondering how he had gotten to the point of tucking the child into bed. He shook his head before silently rising and returning to his own study, the lingering echoes of his own painful memories now softened by the quiet act of care.

 

����������� �Do we have to, Professor?�

����������� The closed-off bit of his room always made Harry's stomach clench. Knowing it was there, a secret box waiting to lock him away when he turned, made the air feel thick and heavy even when the wall was solid. That afternoon, after lunch, Severus stood beside it, his face as still and unreadable as ever.

����������� �Yes, Potter,� he said, his voice calm but firm, �you need to practice. You need to become accustomed to the space where you will reside during your transformation. It is for my safety, the school�s safety, and yours.�

����������� Harry swallowed hard, his gaze glued to the smooth, grey stone.

����������� �I know. I still don�t like it. And it�s . . . like a cage.�

 

����������� �That is why we will proceed slowly. First, I want you to close your eyes.�

����������� Harry hesitated, then squeezed his eyelids shut, his hands bunching into fists at his sides. Severus�s hand settled gently on his shoulder.

����������� �Now, walk forward. I will guide you.�

����������� Severus steered him step by step until he felt the change in the air, the sense of being in a smaller space. His heart rate picked up immediately, but Severus gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then pushed down firmly to stop him from walking further.

����������� �Stop there. You are inside. Keep your eyes closed.� There was a low rumble, and he knew the wall behind him was closing, and it finally slid to a halt. He was trapped. Panic tightened its grip on Harry�s chest. The blackness behind his eyelids suddenly felt crushing.

����������� �Professor Snape?� His voice shook a little.

����������� �I am here, Potter,� Severus�s voice came through the stone, clear but muffled. �You are safe. Now, focus on your breathing. Slow, deep breaths, just as we have practiced.�

����������� It was hard. His heart was banging against his ribs like it wanted to escape.

����������� �I can�t. It�s just . . . dark.�

����������� �Imagine a stream, Harry,� Severus instructed, his tone still gentle but firm. �A small stream, flowing calmly through a forest. Can you picture it?�

����������� Harry squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to see it.

����������� �Yes,� he whispered.

����������� �Follow the stream with your mind�s eye. Notice the gentle movement of the water, the way it flows smoothly over the stones. Listen to the soft sounds of running water it makes. Each breath you take is like the flow of that stream�steady and unwavering. In. Hold. And out.�

����������� Severus�s words were like a cool hand on his forehead. Slowly, Harry�s breathing started to even out. The image of the quiet stream began to fill the empty blackness, pushing back the tight feeling in his chest.

����������� �Now, Potter,� Severus said after a while, his voice still soft. �When you feel calm, try opening your eyes. Just for a moment.�

����������� Harry took a shaky breath and cautiously lifted his eyelids. The light from the illusionary window was soft, but the room . . . it was just a box. Two plain beds with red and gold blankets sat in opposite corners with a few plump pillows, but there was nothing else. The pretend window showed trees and streaming sunlight, but still they felt miles away. For a second, he was okay, focusing on the fake leaves swaying in the distance.

����������� Then it hit him. This was it. This was where he�d turn. Trapped. The walls felt like they were getting closer. The air was thick. A wave of cold panic crashed over him, stealing his breath.

����������� �Professor,� Harry gasped, his voice going high and shaky, �Let me out. Please!� He stumbled towards the wall, his hands hitting the cold stone. �I can�t breathe! It�s shrinking on me, please let me out!�

����������� �Potter, calm down!� Severus�s voice was firm through the wall, a hint of worry in it. �Breathe, Harry, just like the stream. Steady, flowing . . .��������

����������� But he couldn�t. The stream was gone, swallowed by the terror.

����������� �Let me out! Please, let me out!� Harry pounded on the wall, tears stinging his eyes, feeling like a trapped animal.

 

����������� Then, the wall rumbled as it opened for him. Severus was standing there, his expression a mixture of concern and something else Harry couldn�t quite read. Without thinking, Harry lurched forward, throwing himself into Severus�s arms.

����������� Severus stiffened for a second, like he wasn�t expecting it, but then his arms closed around him. Harry clung to him, burying his face in Snape�s chest, his small body shaking with sobs he couldn�t stop. Severus held him tight, rubbing his back gently, murmuring soft, quiet words that were going in one ear and out the other, but the sound of it was still soothing. It was oddly strange. But it felt . . . safe. Harry hadn�t meant to run to him, but at that moment, Severus was the only solid thing in a world that suddenly felt like it was closing in.

�����������

����������� Severus stood stiffly before the Headmaster, his usual composure slightly frayed.

����������� �He is not progressing, Albus,� Severus stated, his voice edged with frustration. �The room terrifies him. Despite the Occlumency exercises, despite my attempts at reassurance, the mere thought of it sends him into a state of near panic.�

����������� Albus stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

����������� �Fear is a powerful adversary, Severus. It is a shadow that often looms larger in the mind than the reality it obscures. Remember, fear itself does not break bones or stop hearts; it is the paralysis of will it can induce that is truly dangerous. Perhaps we can teach Harry to acknowledge his fear, to look it in the eye without succumbing to its power. To understand that even in the darkest corners of that room, he is still himself. We can encourage him to find anchors in his senses, small touchstones of reality � the familiar scent of his own clothes, the soft texture of the blankets, even the sound of his own breathing. These can be threads to guide him back from the precipice of panic.�

����������� Severus gave a rather impatient nod at those words.

����������� �I have attempted similar methods. The stream meditation offers fleeting moments of calm, but the underlying dread remains. And asking Potter to step into that space with his eyes open, to acknowledge anything 'real' within its confines, is, at this juncture, near impossible. The very sight of those walls triggers an immediate and visceral panic. He sees not anchors, but the bars of his cage. And the full moon is tomorrow night."

����������� Severus sighed wearily, and his voice tightened with urgency,

����������� "We are rapidly running out of time to coax him into any semblance of acceptance, let alone calm."

����������� Severus found his thoughts drifting back to the feel of Harry�s small, trembling body pressed against his own, the unexpected vulnerability in the boy�s desperate embrace. There had been a raw vulnerability in that moment, a complete surrender to fear that had momentarily stripped away any remaining animosity that may have remained between them. As he had held the trembling child, a peculiar sensation had unfurled in his chest. It wasn't pity, a sentiment he usually held with disdain, nor was it the detached concern he might feel for any student in distress. This was different. A soft stirring, a protective instinct he hadn't realized lay dormant within him. The frantic beating of Harry�s heart against his robes had evoked a response he couldn�t quite decipher. He had found himself offering comfort, not out of duty or obligation, but from a genuine, almost involuntary impulse. The feeling was unsettling, unfamiliar, yet not entirely unpleasant.

����������� It had taken nearly thirty minutes for Harry to calm himself in Severus�s hold, and when he did, he had blushed profusely and pulled away from Severus, who regained his own composure and closed the wall to the secluded room, then led Harry to his bed, pushing him down firmly and telling him to rest for a bit. It did not take long for Harry to fall asleep, and Severus took advantage of his nap to visit the headmaster.

����������� �There is,� Albus�s voice interrupted his thoughts, �always the option of a calming draught, administered with his final dose of Wolfsbane Potion.�

����������� Severus�s brow furrowed.

����������� �It is a possibility. With the Wolfsbane on board, it may weaken his system enough to allow a calming draught to work in his system. However, there is no guarantee it will be sufficient to quell a full-blown panic attack during the transformation. The Wolfsbane mitigates the worst of the aggression, but the mental distress . . .� He trailed off, tapping his chin as he tried to come up with any other kind of solution, but he was falling short.

����������� �Still,� he conceded, a sliver of hope in his voice, �it is worth a shot. Anything is better than the alternative.�

����������� With the alternative being a panicking werewolf that tears himself apart trying to escape a cage meant to keep him safe. He could only imagine the life-long scars it would inflict.

����������� Ever since he had been bitten, his senses were always in overdrive it seemed. Take Potions class for example. The echoing clang of cauldrons and the pungent aroma of simmering ingredients that filled the Hogwarts dungeons during class was often overstimulating. For Harry, the usual cacophony was now a swirling vortex of amplified sensations. The bubbling of Severus�s demonstration potion sounded like a roaring furnace, and the various smells � the earthy tang of valerian root, the sickly sweetness of powdered moonstone, the sharp acridity of dragon dung � assaulted his nostrils with an intensity that made his stomach churn slightly. He found himself subtly distancing his workstation from those with particularly strong-smelling ingredients. Even the scraping of Neville's clumsy stirring against his cauldron was a minor, irritating screech. He focused intently on Severus�s instructions, his brow furrowed in concentration, partly to follow the complex steps and partly to block out the sensory overload.

����������� In Transfiguration, the precise swish and flick of wands and the soft pop as matchsticks transformed into needles were less jarring. However, the collective rustling of parchment and the scratching of quills seemed amplified, creating a low hum that vibrated in his ears. Professor McGonagall�s sharp, clear voice was a welcome anchor amidst the sensory drift. He found himself hyper-aware of the subtle shifts in the air as magic was performed, a faint tingling on his skin that he hadn't noticed before his bite. When a student accidentally dropped a stack of books, the sudden thump made him jump, earning him a sharp look from McGonagall. He mumbled an apology, blaming clumsiness.

����������� Herbology, usually a calming experience in the greenhouses, was now a mixed bag. The rich, loamy smell of the soil and the vibrant fragrances of magical plants were overwhelming at times, a thick, heady perfume that threatened to become cloying. However, the feel of the damp earth on his hands and the focused task of repotting mandrakes were grounding. The high-pitched shrieks of the mandrakes, even muffled by earmuffs, were still more intense than he remembered, a piercing whine that resonated uncomfortably. He found himself handling the more vocal plants with a newfound, almost instinctive caution.

����������� History of Magic, with Professor Binns' droning monotone, was surprisingly less bothersome in terms of sound. The main challenge was the sheer boredom, which allowed his heightened senses to pick up on the smallest distractions � the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, the faint scratching of a student�s quill miles away, the almost imperceptible creaking of the ancient desks. He found himself fidgeting more, his leg bouncing restlessly beneath the table as he fought to stay focused on the endless recount of goblin rebellions.

����������� Charms was a blend. The incantations themselves, the precise pronunciation and intonation, required intense focus, which helped to block out other stimuli. However, the visual aspects of the charms � the shimmering sparks, the bursts of light � were now almost too vibrant, leaving afterimages in his vision. When Flitwick demonstrated the Lumos Solem charm, the sudden burst of sunlight felt almost painful, and Harry had to look away, much to the professor's mild amusement.

����������� Throughout the days, Harry found himself constantly adjusting, subtly moving away from sources of strong smells or loud noises, focusing intently on individual tasks to drown out the sensory overload, and trying to appear as normal as possible. The effort was exhausting, a constant undercurrent to the usual challenges of third year. He was learning to anticipate potential triggers � the boisterous laughter in the Great Hall, the screech of owls in the Owlery, the echoing footsteps in the stone corridors � and to brace himself, a small, almost imperceptible flinch before the sensation hit. Each day was a tightrope walk, balancing the need to learn and participate with the desperate desire to not betray his secret through a sudden wince or a too-sharp reaction.

����������� Take today for example. The day of the night of the full moon. And it was growing closer with each hour. He was in his last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Huntington had quite the lesson that would have interested Harry more if not for one particular aspect of it.

����������� The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom hummed with anticipation as Professor Huntington presented his demonstration subject. Perched on a sturdy, iron-wrought table was a Snifflefang. It was roughly the size of a badger, with sleek, obsidian scales that shimmered faintly under the torchlight. Its snout was long and tapered, twitching constantly as it sampled the air, and its intelligent, golden eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in every detail. A row of surprisingly sharp teeth glinted within its slightly open maw.

����������� Huntington held aloft a slender, gleaming silver dog whistle.

����������� "Today, class," he announced, "we delve into the fascinating world of creature communication and control. Observe the Snifflefang. A remarkable creature, possessing a sensitivity to sound that far surpasses our own." He punctuated his statement with a sharp, high-pitched blast on the whistle.

����������� Harry flinched, a jolt of pure discomfort slicing through his skull. The sound resonated deep within him, a physical ache behind his eyes. He saw Hermione�s brow furrow with concern, her gaze meeting Ron�s worried expression. Harry offered them a tight, unconvincing smile, hoping to appear unaffected.

����������� Huntington blew the whistle again, a series of short, precise bursts that guided the Snifflefang through a surprisingly agile series of leaps across the tabletop and around a small obstacle course he had set up.

����������� "Notice how precisely it responds," Huntington continued, his eyes gleaming with professional interest. "Can anyone tell me why a creature with such keen hearing might be particularly susceptible to certain high-pitched frequencies?"

����������� Hermione�s hand shot into the air, and Huntington called on her.

����������� �Some creatures are sensitive to higher frequency sounds due to more evolved hearing capabilities influenced by survival adaptations,� Hermione answered.

����������� "Precisely, Miss Granger," Huntington replied with a nod of approval. "An amplified sense, as we often find in the creature kingdom, can also be an amplified vulnerability. Now, consider this."

����������� He blew another, longer blast on the whistle. The grating whine seemed to bore directly into Harry�s head. He instinctively pressed his fingers against his temples, his vision momentarily blurring.

����������� "We utilize auditory signals," Huntington explained, gesturing with the silver whistle, "but other senses are equally vital in the realm of magical creatures. What advantages might a predator gain from an exceptionally developed sense of smell? Mr. Finnigan?"

����������� Seamus Finnigan, looking slightly flustered, stammered, "Uh . . . they could track prey from further away, sir? Even if it's hiding?"

����������� "Indeed," Huntington said, nodding thoughtfully. "The Snifflefang, despite its size, is a surprisingly adept hunter, relying heavily on its olfactory senses. And are there any drawbacks to such heightened senses?"

����������� The whistle shrilled again, a short, piercing burst that seemed to vibrate the very air in the room. Harry winced visibly this time, his hands flying up to cover his ears before he could consciously stop himself. He quickly lowered them, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, hoping the tell-tale reaction had gone unnoticed. But Huntington�s unwavering gaze was fixed on him.

����������� "Mr. Potter," Huntington said, his voice mild but carrying a note of distinct observation. "Is everything alright?�

����������� Every student turned to look at him, and he flushed in embarrassment.

����������� "Yes, sir. Just a bit of a headache I�ve had all day," Harry mumbled, trying to project an air of casual dismissal. He avoided eye contact.

����������� Huntington�s gaze remained fixed on him for another beat before his attention returned to the Snifflefang, which was now sniffing inquisitively at a small, scented ball Huntington had placed on the table.

����������� �Very well. Now, observe this.� Huntington continued, pointing to the creature�s subtle shifts in posture as it reacted to unseen stimuli. "The Snifflefang also responds to subtle shifts in my posture, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. Many creatures communicate and interpret the world through a variety of sensory inputs, far more nuanced than our own."

����������� The class continued on until an hour was up, and Huntington put the creature back in its cage.

����������� "For your homework, I want a three-foot essay detailing the various methods of training different magical creatures, focusing on auditory and olfactory stimuli." He began to write on the blackboard. "Class dismissed."

����������� As the scraping of chairs and the rustle of bags filled the room, Huntington�s voice cut through the noise.

����������� "Potter, a word, please."

����������� Harry�s stomach plummeted. He exchanged a nervous glance with Hermione and Ron, who hovered near the doorway, their faces etched with concern. He gave them a small, reassuring nod and waited as the last of his classmates filed out, leaving him alone with the professor.

����������� "So, Potter," Huntington said, turning from his desk. "This headache. Are you feeling quite alright? It seemed rather . . . intense.�

����������� "It's just a mild one, sir. It'll pass," Harry said quickly, his hand instinctively going to his temple. He desperately wanted to escape the scrutiny of those piercing eyes.

����������� "Are you sure? I have a rather effective headache reliever here, a blend of feverfew and peppermint. Or perhaps a Pepper-Up Potion? Might settle your stomach if it's related to that."

����������� Harry shook his head firmly.

����������� "No, thank you, sir. I'm fine, really. Just need some fresh air."

����������� "Are you prone to headaches?" Huntington continued. "Or was this a sudden onset? Perhaps triggered by a specific sound? Just in case it was something in the classroom bugging you today, I wouldn�t want it to be a continued nuisance."

����������� "No, sir, not really prone to them. Just . . . a bit tired, I think."

����������� "Tired, you say?" Huntington leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. "Do you find yourself particularly sensitive to loud noises when you are tired, then? Certain frequencies, perhaps?"

����������� A cold dread washed over Harry. He recognized the subtle probing, the way Huntington was piecing together the clues. He swallowed hard.

����������� "Not particularly, sir."

����������� Before Huntington could press further, the classroom door swung open.

����������� "Severus," Huntington said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

����������� Severus stood in the doorway, his black robes billowing slightly. His gaze flicked between Harry and Huntington, his expression unreadable.

����������� "Is there a problem, Huntington?" he asked.

����������� "Not at all, Severus," Huntington replied, his tone overly friendly. "Young Mr. Potter mentioned a slight headache during class. I was merely ensuring his well-being."

����������� Severus glanced back at Harry, who met his gaze with a slightly desperate look.

����������� �Well, he seems thoroughly ensured.� He moved towards Harry, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "If I may, I�m afraid I must steal Potter away as he is late for his detention.�

����������� �"Detention? For what infraction has young Mr. Potter earned your displeasure today?� Huntington raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

����������� "Cheeky remarks regarding the proper brewing temperature of Wiggenweld Potion," Severus replied smoothly. "A regrettable lapse in decorum, demonstrating a distinct lack of respect for the delicate art of potion-making." He moved with his usual swiftness to usher Harry towards the door, his hand resting firmly on the boy�s arm.

����������� "A detention, you say?" Huntington�s eyes narrowed; his gaze sharp as he observed the interaction between the two. "You two seem to be spending a considerable amount of time in each other�s company lately, wouldn't you agree, Severus? An almost . . . disproportionate amount, one might think." He adopted a tone of concerned disapproval, his gaze flicking between Harry and Snape. "One hopes there isn't some . . . imbalance of power at play here. A teacher should maintain appropriate boundaries and avoid unduly influencing a student."

����������� Severus stopped abruptly, his grip on Harry�s arm tightening slightly. He turned slowly to face Huntington, his expression dark.

����������� "My concern, Huntington, lies solely with the well-being and academic progress of all my students. A sentiment I believed we shared. I was merely ensuring Mr. Potter adhered to his scheduled disciplinary measures, just as you were inquiring about his health. Unless, of course," Severus�s voice dropped, becoming dangerously soft, "your sudden and intense interest in Mr. Potter extends beyond mere pedagogical concern?"

����������� A flush crept up Huntington�s neck, staining his pale skin. He held Severus�s piercing gaze for a tense moment, a silent battle of will playing out between them, before finally backing down, a forced smile appearing on his lips.

����������� "Of course not. Merely ensuring the students are well. A fundamental aspect of our shared profession. Carry on."

����������� Severus gave a curt nod and steered Harry out of the classroom, his grip firm. Once they were in the relative privacy of the dimly lit corridor, Harry turned to Severus, his voice trembling slightly.

����������� "Do you think he's figured it out? What if he knows?"

����������� Severus�s expression remained severe, but there was a flicker of something akin to reassurance in his dark eyes.

����������� "Even if he has suspicions, as a student of Hogwarts, you are under the protection of this institution, regardless of whatever he believes. He has no authority to act on conjecture."

����������� �That doesn�t mean he wouldn�t . . .�

����������� �If he does, he�ll have to answer to me,� Severus said. �And I assure, he does not want to answer to me.�

����������� Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, the lingering unease from Huntington's scrutiny slowly being chipped away by Severus's unexpected show of . . . well, not exactly warmth, but definitely unwavering protection. That was actually a very comforting thought for Harry.

����������� "Right," Harry said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Because facing down a basilisk and a horde of dementors is a walk in the park compared to a Snape lecture on . . . inappropriate teacher-student bonding."

����������� �Okay, you cheeky brat,� Severus warned lightly, though his lips twitched in amusement, a smirk threatening to spread across his face. �That�s enough from you. Are you ready for your final potion?�

����������� Harry gulped dryly.

 

����������� The vial containing the Wolfsbane potion glowed with an almost ethereal emerald light in the dimness of Severus private quarters. It was the final dose before the full moon waned. Beside it lay a smaller phial filled with a pearlescent lavender liquid � the calming draught, a recent addition to their precarious ritual.

����������� "Drink these, Potter," Severus instructed, holding out both vials to Harry.

����������� Harry swallowed both potions in quick succession. The Wolfsbane tasted bitter, a familiar unpleasantness. The calming draught, however, left a surprising hint of mint on his tongue, a fleeting coolness against the rising heat of his anxiety. He stared at the section of the wall in his bedroom, the entrance to the hidden chamber that would become his monthly prison. A knot of dread tightened in his stomach.

����������� "What if I freak out?" he asked, his voice barely a breath, the question hanging heavy in the silent room. "What if . . . what if the whole castle hears me?" The image of his monstrous form howling through the ancient stone corridors, terrifying his friends, the professors . . . it was a nightmare he couldn't shake.

����������� "The whole castle will not hear you, Potter. This room," he gestured towards the wall with a flick of his wrist, "is charmed with layers of silencing enchantments, meticulously woven. Outward sound is impossible. Only I will be able to hear you."

����������� �Why?� Harry asked, frowning at his professor.

����������� "So I know if you are attempting to breach the containment," Severus replied. "Or harming yourself, I suppose. Despite the isolation, you are not entirely unsupervised."

����������� Harry nodded in understanding, then glanced at the wall.

����������� �The full moon is approaching,� Severus said, checking a pocket watch. �Are you ready to enter the containment?"

����������� Harry hesitated, his gaze fixed on the stone. The thought of being confined sent a fresh wave of fear through him.

����������� "As ready as I'll ever be," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

����������� "The calming draught should mitigate the worst of the panic," Severus said, his voice slightly softer than usual. "Try to focus on the exercises we�ve practiced. Control your breathing."

����������� Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. He looked at Severus.

����������� �"I . . . I trust you," he said, the words surprising even himself.

Severus's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his mask of composure snapped back into place. He simply inclined his head, a gesture that could have meant anything � acknowledgement, dismissal, or something else entirely.

����������� "Close your eyes," Severus instructed. He stepped closer, his hand hovering near Harry's elbow but not quite touching. "Breathe, Potter. Slowly. In� and out."

����������� Harry obeyed, his eyelids fluttering shut. He felt Severus guide him gently towards the wall. The air around it was noticeably cooler, sending a shiver down his spine despite the residual warmth of the calming draught. He focused on the rhythm of his breathing, trying to block out the rising tide of panic.

����������� "Keep breathing," Severus murmured, his voice a low, steady presence. "I'm here."

����������� The wall slid open, rumbling against the ground. He stumbled slightly, and Severus's hand finally made contact, a firm, steadying pressure on his arm. He walked forward, guided by Severus's voice and touch, until he was fully inside the confined space.

����������� After the last failed attempt, the headmaster attempted to add even more life to the boxed room. Along with two four-poster beds with thick blankets and pillows, a plush, deep-red rug covered most of the stone floor, patterned with a swirling gold design. A small, enchanted fireplace flickered with a gentle, smokeless flame, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Several cushioned armchairs were arranged around a low wooden table where a tray of tea and biscuits sat, with the tea in a large bowl, of course.

����������� Severus stepped back, the wall solidifying behind him with a soft thump, sealing Harry in. For a moment, there was utter silence. Then, Severus began to speak, his voice a low, steady murmur, guiding Harry through the familiar calming exercises he had devised � slow, deliberate breaths, focusing on a single point in the darkness. The minutes stretched into an eternity, filled only with Severus�s quiet instructions and Harry�s ragged breaths.

����������� Then, a series of pained grunts and gasps echoed from the darkness, a sound that twisted Severus's gut. It was followed by a sickening crack and a low, guttural moan that spoke of agony. The breathing shallowed, became erratic, and finally . . . ceased. A tense, drawn-out silence descended, a quiet so profound it prickled the hairs on Severus�s arms.

����������� He leaned closer to the wall, his ear pressed against the cool, unyielding stone, straining for the first tell-tale sign of the transformation. The sudden, violent THUD that reverberated through the wall made him jump, a jolt of pure shock. It was followed by a ferocious snarl, a guttural sound of pure, unadulterated panic that sent a shiver down his spine. The wolf was flailing, throwing its weight against the confines of the small room, the desperate scrabbling of claws against stone a horrifying counterpoint to the silence outside.

����������� Severus�s lips tightened into a thin, white line. The calming draught, it seemed, was proving woefully inadequate against the creature�s inherent claustrophobia. He pressed his hand flat against the wall, as if trying to physically reach through to the terrified boy within.

����������� "Potter? Can you hear me? Try to focus on your breathing. Remember the exercises." His voice remained calm, but inside, a cold knot of unease began to twist and tighten. There was nothing he could do now but stand and listen to the frantic sounds of distress emanating from the other side.

����������� Then, the howling began. It started as a choked whimper, quickly escalating into a long, mournful wail that seemed to claw at the silence of his quarters. Severus sighed, a weary sound that held a hint of resignation. He will exhaust himself eventually, he thought.

����������� But the hours crawled by, marked only by the relentless, heart-wrenching howls. The sound seeped into the very fabric of Severus�s room, echoing in his mind, preventing any semblance of rest. When he finally retired for bed, he tossed and turned in his bed, his patience fraying with each agonizing cry. �����

����������� "Potter, please, shut up!" he hissed, pushing a pillow over his head in an attempt to smother the noise.

����������� The howling persisted, unwavering. Severus�s composure shattered. He surged out of bed, his bare feet padding angrily on the cold stone floor as he stalked towards the section of wall that concealed the transformed boy. His own breath came in short, frustrated bursts, mirroring the frantic energy he could sense on the other side.

����������� He hesitated inches from the cool stone, his hand hovering in the air. A shiver, not entirely from the chill of the dungeon air, ran down his spine. The raw, untamed sound of the werewolf on the other side stirred a primal fear within him, a visceral reaction to the creature he had always loathed, a loathing now complicated by a reluctant sense of responsibility. He leaned against the wall, a silent, internal battle raging within him � duty versus fear, compassion versus ingrained prejudice. He pleaded one more time, his voice softer now, laced with a weary desperation he hadn't intended to reveal.

����������� "Potter . . . please. Calm yourself."

����������� The only response was another long, heart-wrenching howl.

����������� Severus closed his eyes, a long and arduous internal debate playing out in the agonizing silence between the howls. He thought of the boy who was trapped and terrified in the darkness. He thought of the fragile tendrils of trust that had begun to form between them, a connection forged in secrecy and necessity. With a sharp, decisive movement, he drew his wand. He murmured a quiet, intricate charm, and a tiny, almost invisible hole appeared in the smooth stone wall.

����������� He took a deep, shuddering breath, the scent of damp fur, wild animal musk, and fear filtering through the small opening, a potent cocktail that stirred a deep unease within him. �������� Then, with a fluid grace, he began to shift. His bones contorted with a sickening crackle, his skin rippled and changed, and soon, he was Flick, his scales gleaming darkly in the faint moonlight filtering through the high dungeon windows.

����������� Flick slithered silently through the small opening, the charm sealing itself seamlessly behind him. The howling stopped abruptly, replaced by a startled silence. The large, silver wolf, its fur bristling, its eyes wide and luminous, stared at the sudden, silent appearance of the immense snake.

����������� Flick moved slowly, deliberately, uncoiling and gliding across the stone floor towards the agitated creature.

����������� "Hush, you incorrigible brat," Severus�s voice, now a soft, sibilant hiss, still held a familiar, if somewhat irritated, undertone. He made his way to one of the beds in the corner and laboriously coiled his considerable length onto it, every muscle tense, fighting the instinctive terror that coiled tighter than his own body. He was in a confined space with a werewolf, utterly vulnerable. Sure, he was in his animagus form, and there was no way he�d ever be able to do this as himself, but it still left him in a state of helplessness, and he hated it.

����������� But as the wolf continued to watch him, its bright green eyes, so startlingly familiar in the monstrous face, fixed on him with a strange, almost bewildered curiosity, the icy grip of fear began to loosen, replaced by a fragile sense of . . . something else.

����������� Come lie down, Flick thought, the sibilant words echoing slightly.

����������� The wolf hesitated for a long moment, its large head cocked to one side, studying the snake. It leaned forward slightly, as if it wanted to start walking toward the bed, then jerked back and stared at the snake a moment longer. Finally, with a soft, whimpering sound, it lumbered towards the bed and, with surprising gentleness for such a powerful creature, jumped onto the thin mattress, settling down beside the coiled python, its large, furry head nudging closer to Flick�s smooth scales.

����������� There, you silly wolf, Flick thought, a strange sense of weary relief washing over him, battling against the lingering fear. You silly Bright Eyes.

 

 

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����������� Flick, coiled heavily on the four-poster bed, felt the shudder next to him before the transformation even began. The small room was filled with morning light now from the charmed window. He could hear the faint, ragged gasps from the massive wolf beside him. The full moon had waned, its influence retreating, and the painful process of reversion had begun. The wolf, Bright Eyes, shuddered once more, his powerful limbs spasming. Fur receded, muscles convulsed, bones grinding with sickening reports that Flick, in his snake form, could feel as faint vibrations against his scales. It was a brutal transformation, as agonizing in reverse as it was in its onset. Flick remained still, a dark, silent presence, observing the boy's struggle, a strange, fierce protectiveness coiling in his own serpentine chest even as he knew there was nothing he could do.

����������� Then, with a final, shuddering gasp, the wolf was gone, replaced by the pale, thin form of a human boy. Harry Potter lay naked on the mattress, his skin slick with sweat, his chest heaving. His eyes fluttered open, still dazed, and then widened in sudden, mortified realization. His gaze flickered downwards, then frantically around the room, searching for something, anything, to cover himself.

����������� Flick uncoiled from the bed with a languid, almost exaggerated movement, as if suddenly drawn by an unseen dust mote on the plush rug. He slithered silently to the far corner of the room, ostensibly fascinated by a loose thread in the swirling gold pattern. He felt, rather than saw, Harry scramble for the thick blankets, tugging one around himself like a makeshift toga. A faint blush crept up the boy's neck.

����������� Once Harry was sufficiently obscured, Severus materialized from the dissolving form of the python. He looked disheveled, his dark hair a little wilder than usual, his face pale, but his expression was as unreadable as ever. His dark, piercing eyes swept over Harry, assessing.

����������� "I will ensure there are clothes available here for you next time, Potter," Severus said. "For now, there's a set of clean robes in your bedroom. Dress yourself and meet me in the kitchen for breakfast." Without another word, he flicked his wand. The hidden section of wall slid open with a soft rumble, revealing the dimly lit corridor beyond. Severus stepped out, the wall remaining open for Harry to exit, and he left the bedroom.

����������� As he left Harry to get ready for the day, he felt a peculiar mix of residual tension and something he couldn't quite name. The hours of constant howling, the desperate scrabbling from inside the room, had frayed his nerves to a thin wire. Yet, the moment the wolf had quieted, settling beside Flick, a strange, weary relief had washed over him.

����������� He strode purposefully to his private kitchen, his bare feet cool on the stone floor. He waved a hand, conjuring a steaming mug of black tea for himself, and a larger, more palatable cup for Harry, along with a plate laden with toast and eggs. His quarters, while spartan, offered a sense of control and order that had been entirely absent during the moon's long, harrowing reign. He ran a hand through his perpetually greasy hair, noting its slight disarray. He needed a shower and a long morning to recompose himself after shifting into Flick for so long.

����������� Harry appeared shortly dressed in the spare robes Severus had saved in the wardrobe in Harry�s bedroom. The boy seemed subdued, a faint flush still on his cheeks, but his eyes, though tired, held a spark of something new � a guarded curiosity, perhaps, or even a nascent trust. Severus watched him from behind the steaming tea mug as Potter took the stool opposite him at the kitchen bar.

����������� "Eat," Severus commanded, his voice deliberately flat, trying to inject the usual dismissiveness that came so naturally. Yet, even to his own ears, it sounded less like an order and more like an invitation. He observed as Harry devoured the food with an almost startling hunger, a testament to the energy expended during the transformation. The boy still looked too thin, too young for the burdens he carried.

����������� Harry took a large bite of toast, chewing slowly. After a moment, he swallowed.

����������� "Thanks, sir," he mumbled, his gaze fixed on his plate. "For . . . you know. Coming in." He didn't look up, but the words hung in the air, a fragile offering.

����������� Severus snorted, a sharp, dismissive sound that was almost habitual.

����������� "Don't be absurd. It was a matter of self-preservation. Your howling was quite insufferable. I'd never have gotten a moment's sleep with you caterwauling through the dungeons." He took a long sip of his tea, watching the boy over the rim of his mug. He expected a flinch, a muttered apology. Instead, Harry merely nodded, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He understood. Or at least, he understood the intent behind the dismissal.

����������� As Harry chewed on another piece of toast, a faint murmur escaped him.

����������� "You called me Bright Eyes."

����������� Severus froze, the tea mug halfway to his lips. He hadn't expected the boy to recall that. It had been a moment of unguarded thought, a fleeting, almost affectionate observation in his animagus form, certainly not meant for human ears. His stomach clenched. A flicker of heat rose to his pale cheeks, a flush of acute mortification.

����������� "Did I, now?" he drawled, attempting to inject his usual scorn, but the words felt clumsy, hollow. "A rather undignified moniker, I assure you, Potter." He should deny it, dismiss it as nonsense. But the boy's gaze was steady, expectant.

����������� "No," Harry said, shaking his head, a small, genuine smile beginning to form. "I . . . I liked it. I could still understand you in your animagus form, I just couldn�t talk back of course. Sir, why 'Bright Eyes'?"

����������� Severus hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to share this tidbit of information with Harry. But something in Potter�s frankness, in the directness of those damn green eyes, stopped him. He found himself answering truthfully.

����������� �It was the first thing I notice about your . . . transformed state," he admitted, his voice surprisingly soft. "Your eyes are . . . startling vivid enough on their own, but in your werewolf form, well . . . they are remarkably bright." He met Harry�s gaze across the bar, searching for any sign of mockery, of discomfort. "I trust you do not find it objectionable?"

����������� Harry's smile widened, unburdened, reaching his eyes.

����������� "No, sir. I like it. A lot." He took a gulp of his tea.

����������� Severus watched him for a moment, fighting with his next words.

����������� �They�re your mother�s eyes, you know.� The words slipped out, quieter than he intended, a ghost of a memory stirring in his mind.

����������� Harry�s smile faltered slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression.

����������� "Yeah, I've heard that before," he said, pushing a piece of toast around his plate. He looked up at Severus, his green eyes, indeed remarkably bright, searching. "Did you . . . did you know my mother, sir?"

����������� Severus�s jaw tightened. This was treading on dangerous ground, a past best left buried. He took a slow sip of his tea, giving himself a moment to compose his features.

����������� "I did," he replied, his voice carefully neutral. "We attended Hogwarts together."

����������� "Were you . . . friends?" Harry asked, his voice hesitant, almost hopeful.

����������� Severus met his gaze, the past swirling, complex and painful.

����������� "Briefly," he stated, the word clipped, offering no further elaboration. It was the truth, unvarnished but incomplete. He took another forced sip of tea as he glanced down at the Daily Prophet sitting before him, signaling the end of that particular line of questioning.

����������� Harry seemed to sense the boundary. His expression showed he clearly had more questions, more curiosity in those bright eyes, but he merely nodded slowly.

����������� "Right," he mumbled, returning his attention to his breakfast. He accepted the answer, even if it wasn't the full story.

����������� Severus watched him, a flicker of irritation, then, a bit of concern. Severus's throat felt unexpectedly tight. He cleared it. He needed to steer the conversation away from the past, away from Lily, and back to something he could control, something tangible to focus on.

����������� "Tell me, Potter," Severus began, his voice firmer now, shifting into a more clinical tone, "how did you find the transformation this time? With a full course of the Wolfsbane Potion in your system, was it . . . more tolerable than your initial experience?"

����������� Harry looked up, his expression thoughtful.

����������� "It was fine, sir. Better than the first time, definitely. I remember more, too. Not everything, but . . . enough." He hesitated, looking down at his hands, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. "I remember being really scared. Feeling trapped in that room, and alone. And then Flick showed up, and it was . . . different. It felt safer, like I wasn�t really alone anymore."

����������� A strange, familiar warmth blossomed in Severus's chest, a feeling he instantly tried to suffocate. He had to remind himself of the boy's irritating parentage, of the duty, of the endless, thankless burden this situation presented. He straightened his shoulders, forcing his usual mask of severe detachment back into place.

����������� "Indeed," he drawled, though the word lacked its usual sting. "While the walls are reinforced and magically sealed off, charms can wear down with consistency. It would hardly do for the entire castle to hear your lamentations. So, I figured the lesser of two evils was me joining you, as Flick of course." He met Harry's gaze, a hint of his usual disdain in his eyes, carefully hiding the genuine, fleeting affection that had sparked within him.

����������� "But it worked," Harry insisted, looking up, meeting Snape's eyes. "It really did. I didn't feel out of control. Just scared."

����������� Severus�s gaze softened almost imperceptibly, a brief flicker of that hidden warmth.

����������� "Fear is a natural response, Potter," he conceded, his voice losing some of its edge. "Particularly to such a profound change. You handled it adequately, for a novice." He took a small sip of his tea, the corners of his lips twitching almost into a smile. "Which is to say, you did not, in fact, manage to tear through the reinforced walls of my private quarters. A notable achievement."

����������� Harry let out a small, tired laugh.

����������� "Guess that's something to aim for, then. Not ripping down your walls." He looked at his plate, then back at Snape. "So . . . you'll be there again, next time?"

����������� Severus met Harry's hopeful gaze. The warmth in his chest intensified and he allowed himself to show a sliver of genuine, if grudging, warmth.

����������� "I will be there," he stated. "Someone has to ensure you don't entirely destroy the school in your wolfish tantrums. Now, finish your breakfast. You will need your strength for the day ahead. Unless you�ve forgotten, you have a Quidditch Match today." He gave a dismissive, yet not unkind, wave of his hand, a clear signal that the conversation was over, but the underlying sentiment lingered. Harry dug into his food with a large smile on his face.

 

����������� The roar of the crowd vibrated through Harry�s bones even on his Firebolt. It was the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match, a spectacle usually exhilarating but now, with his amplified senses, a constantly teetering sensory tightrope. The shrieks of the fans, the whoosh of the passing Quaffle, the sharp crack of Beaters� bats � it all hammered at him. He focused, as Severus had suggested, on the single, minute detail of the Golden Snitch, a tiny, glittering beacon in the overwhelming sky.

����������� Cheers erupted as Alicia Spinnet, Gryffindor's Chaser, scored, then groans from everywhere but Slytherin followed almost immediately as a Slytherin scored. Harry weaved through the chaotic aerial ballet, narrowly dodging a stray bludger sent by Flint. Fred and George, Gryffindor's Beaters, were a blur of red, retaliating with powerful swings of their own, sending bludgers careening towards the Slytherin Seeker, Terrence Higgs.

����������� Harry could hear Higgs's labored breathing from across the pitch, and he could smell the metallic tang of sweat from the close-flying players. He saw the Snitch dart past the goalposts, a flash of gold, and he kicked his broom, accelerating, the wind whipping past his face, momentarily clearing the sensory overload.

����������� He was almost there, just a few feet away, when a burst of cheers from the crowd almost deafened him. Higgs had just missed it. Harry pressed on, adrenaline beginning to course through him, sharpening his focus. The snitch vanished somewhere among the stadium.

����������� He was circling the pitch, eyes scanning, when a familiar scent hit him � damp fur and woodsmoke, fainter than before, but unmistakable. He flicked his gaze downwards, towards the edge of the stands where the faculty sat. And there, beside Hagrid, talking animatedly, was Remus Lupin.

����������� A jolt of pure, unadulterated panic surged through Harry. His stomach churned. He saw the easy smile on Remus�s face, the familiar warmth in his eyes, but all Harry could picture was the snarling wolf in the office, pinning him down to the cold floor. His breath hitched, turning ragged. He could hear the low murmur of their conversation from the ground, indistinct words that twisted into an imagined growl in his mind. The wolf. He�s here.

����������� Their eyes met. Remus�s smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sorrow and concern. Harry felt a fresh wave of terror, his body tensing, his grip on the broom faltering. He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second, trying to force the image of the wolf away, trying to regain control.

����������� That split second was all it took.

����������� A sudden, earth-shattering CRACK reverberated through the air, amplified tenfold in Harry�s ears. It was the sound of a bludger, hit with furious intent. Before Harry could react, a blur of black leather slammed into his side. Pain exploded, cold air rushed past him, and the world spun into a chaotic blur of green grass and blue sky. He was falling and then there was blackness.

����������� Loud, furious whispers that felt like physical blows against his skull stirred him from his forced sleep. The sterile scent of the infirmary made his nose prickle. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, trying to make sense of the overwhelming noise.

����������� "�irresponsible! Utterly, completely irresponsible!" That was Severus, his voice a furious growl. "To allow him to attend the game, after what transpired�"

����������� "Severus, I assure you, Remus meant no harm," came Albus�s calm voice. "He is merely assisting with a vital matter of security, trying to locate Sirius. Regardless of his affliction, he is welcome here as we resolve this matter, and he only wanted to see Harry play."

����������� "His affliction nearly got Potter killed!" Severus snarled, the words punctuated by what sounded like a furious pacing. "And here he is trying to do it again! He was terrified! I saw it, Albus! That man's presence here is a clear and present danger to the boy's well-being! And you dare come up to the infirmary after that?"

����������� "I just wanted to make sure he was alright," Remus�s voice, quiet and strained, cut through Severus�s fury. "I saw him fall, Severus, my God. I just wanted to�"

����������� Harry felt a slight shift in the air, a drop in the temperature, then the soft creak of a bed. A hand, surprisingly gentle, touched his forehead. Severus. Harry felt his entire body relax involuntarily.

����������� "He's stirring," Severus's voice, though still tight with anger, dropped to a harsh whisper. "Lupin, you need to leave. Now."

����������� "I need to talk to Harry," Remus insisted, his voice closer now.

����������� Panic, cold and sharp, seized Harry. He wanted to scream, to bolt, to do something, but panic grabbed a hold of him. He kept his eyes clamped shut, feigning unconsciousness, a desperate plea forming in his mind: No. Not now. Not him.

����������� "Not today," Snape's voice was a low, dangerous growl right next to Harry's ear. "Leave."

����������� �It may be for the best, Remus,� Albus said.

����������� There was a heavy sigh, the rustle of robes, the soft fall of boots retreating from the infirmary. Silence, a blessed, relative silence, descended. Harry felt the bed shift and Severus moved away, and Harry wished that he had stayed closer. He certainly felt much safer with him near.

����������� Harry slowly, cautiously, opened his eyes. Severus was sitting in a straight-backed chair beside his bed, his usual black robes impeccably neat, though his face was still pale and drawn. Harry blinked, surprised. There was no throbbing headache, no dizzying ache from the fall. He felt . . . fine. His body was completely without pain, as if the incident hadn't happened.

����������� "You're awake," Snape said, his voice flat. "Surprisingly quickly."

����������� �Yeah,� Harry agreed dully, blinking. �And nothing hurts. Usually, I�m still feeling the fall when I come here.�

����������� Severus looked at Harry intently.

����������� "You were healed by the time they brought you in. The Bludger would have broken several bones, but . . . no. There was no evidence of injury, you were merely unconscious. For propriety's sake, and to avoid undue suspicion, you were brought here anyway. Madam Pomfrey has merely treated you for a mild concussion, as per my instructions."

����������� Harry felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest. Snape had been there, protected him, even after he passed out.

����������� �Do you think I healed myself?� Harry asked.

����������� �Yes, it�s highly likely that you either healed yourself, or, with your . . . condition, the fall and the hit from the bludger did not injure you.�

����������� That made sense. Harry stretched his arms a bit and sat up more in the bed. He stretched, then his eyes widened as he turned fully to Severus.

����������� �Who won the game?�

����������� Severus�s lips thinned, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He stared at Harry as if he'd just sprouted a second head.

����������� "Potter," he drawled, "You just fell from fifty feet, were struck by a Bludger, and lost consciousness due to a highly inconvenient panic attack in front of the entire school, and your primary concern is the outcome of a trivial game?" His dark eyes narrowed. "Are your priorities entirely in order?"

����������� Harry flinched, shrinking slightly under the glare.

����������� "Well, it's Quidditch, sir. And it was Slytherin. It's not trivial." He mumbled the last part, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Did we win?"

����������� Severus let out a long, exasperated sigh. �Weasley managed to secure the Quaffle for a win after your rather public departure from the game, though the Snitch was declared caught moments before. Apparently, it was found clutched in your hand upon impact. A rather undignified way to claim victory, I might add. One might assume you were simply attempting to grasp anything to break your fall.'" He watched Harry's face light up with a small, triumphant grin, and felt a flicker of the warmth he'd suppressed earlier. Irritatingly, it was difficult to maintain his usual level of disdain when the boy looked so genuinely pleased over something so mundane.��

����������� "Good," Harry breathed, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Excellent. So it didn't matter that I fell, then. I still caught it!"

����������� "It mattered considerably," Severus corrected sharply. "Your 'fall,' as you so casually refer to it, was a rather conspicuous display. You were fortunate to merely incur a concussion, which, thanks to your unique affliction, is healing so quickly that the potion Madam Pomfrey fed to you is rather obsolete. Imagine the questions that would have arisen had you sustained actual, visible injury only for it to spontaneously mend. Your secret, Potter, is fragile. And your composure, or lack thereof, nearly shattered it today." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "What precisely caused you to lose focus to such a degree?"

����������� Harry hesitated for a moment, looking down at his hands clasped on the blanket. He took a deep breath.

����������� "It was... Professor Lupin, sir," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I saw him on the ground. Talking to Hagrid. And . . . it just made me panic." He glanced up, his eyes wide. "I know it shouldn't, I know he's . . . he's human, but all I could see was the wolf from that night. And I just . . . I couldn't breathe. I just wanted to get away but I didn�t know how. So I froze."

����������� Severus�s expression remained unreadable, but a faint tightening around his eyes indicated his understanding.

����������� "I thought as much," he said, his voice flat but without a trace of judgment. "Your reaction was quite evident, even from the stands."

����������� �Bet you think I�m weak.� Harry looked down at his lap, pouting slightly. �

����������� �Quite the opposite, Harry,� Severus said, softly. He paused, then continued, his gaze direct. "I have already spoken with Dumbledore. I have made it clear that Professor Lupin is to remain at a considerable distance from you until such a time as you are prepared to confront him. Or, indeed, if you ever are." He leaned back in his chair with a nod of reassurance. "He will not approach you again without your express permission."

����������� Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him, so profound it almost made him lightheaded.

����������� "Thank you, sir," he breathed, the words heartfelt.

����������� Severus merely inclined his head, his dark eyes still watching Harry with a careful intensity.

����������� "Why . . . why does Professor Lupin want to talk to me?" Harry asked after a moment of silence between the two.

����������� �I thought you might be awake,� Severus said, raising a brow at Harry. �You didn�t feel it necessary to make us aware you were eavesdropping.�

����������� �He was still here,� Harry said honestly. �I didn�t think I could.�

����������� Severus sighed loudly.

����������� "He wishes to apologize. For his part in your current condition. He also, I suspect, believes he can offer you advice. Assistance, perhaps. Some guidance." Severus paused, frowning in thought for a moment before he seemed to shake away whatever thoughts he had. "But ultimately, it is your decision. If you wish to speak to him, I will arrange it. If you do not, then you do not."

����������� Harry thought of the snarling wolf, of the instinctual terror that had seized him on the Quidditch pitch. He thought of Severus, transforming, calming him down. He shook his head, a slight tremor running through him. "Not yet, sir. Please. Not yet."

����������� Severus nodded, his expression unreadable, but a faint something in his eyes conveyed understanding. "Very well, Potter. I respect that decision. He will have to as well."

����������� Severus stood from the chair, the slight creak of the wood the only sound in the quiet infirmary. Harry watched him, expecting him to sweep away, to return to his dungeons, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the lingering scent of antiseptic. But Severus reached out, his hand hovering for a moment above Harry's forehead, then settled gently, briefly, on his messy hair. It was a fleeting, almost hesitant touch, a gesture so uncharacteristic that Harry blinked in surprise.

����������� "Rest, Potter," Severus murmured. "The ordeal is over for now. And you are, against all reasonable expectations, entirely intact." A ghost of a smile touched Snape's lips before he finally turned and walked towards the infirmary doors, leaving Harry with a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets covering him.

 

 

�����������

 

����������� The low hum of conversations and the rustle of textbooks filled the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, an annoying sound in Harry�s ears, but he worked on meditating at his desk to allow the noises to flow through him without bothering him too much. Severus had said he would work on a special potion that would help dull some of the sensory input, but for now, he would have to make do. He sat between Ron and Hermione, trying to focus on Professor Huntington as the professor began his lesson on protective objects against magical creatures.

����������� "Today, class, we delve into the practical application of defensive magic," Huntington announced. He held up a small, intricately carved wooden charm. It was shaped like a stylized griffin, its wings outstretched. "For lesser threats, such as pixies or gnomes, a simple warding charm, like this one, can be quite effective." He passed the charm down the first row.

����������� Harry watched as it moved along, his enhanced vision picking out the faint grain of the wood. When it reached him, he took it, feeling the smooth, cool wood against his fingertips. It seemed to vibrate with a soft, almost imperceptible hum of residual magic, like a tiny, dormant beehive. It posed no threat, and he quickly passed it to Ron, who turned it over in his hand with a grunt of disinterest.

����������� Next came a vial of glittering, iridescent dust.

����������� "This, class," Huntington explained, holding it up so it caught the light, "is Faerie Dust. Potent against keeping boggarts from returning to dark cupboards or spaces once you have banished them." This, too, made its way around the room while Huntington talked away about how it was used specifically and where it was generally collected.

����������� When the vial reached Harry, he took it carefully. The glass was cool, and the dust inside seemed to shimmer with a playful, almost sugary scent that tickled his nose, a faint, pleasant tingling on his skin as if tiny, invisible wings were brushing past. It felt harmless, like powdered moonlight, and he handed it off to Ron, whose nose wrinkled slightly at the sweet scent.

����������� Huntington then produced a small, leather-bound collar, adorned with tiny, shimmering runes.

����������� "This," he announced, holding it up for all to see, "is a Muzzling Collar. It's imbued with a specialized calming rune and is particularly effective for subduing overly aggressive or temperamental dark creatures, say erklings or dragons, during handling or transport." He demonstrated its flexible nature, snapping it gently around his own wrist. "It doesn't inflict harm, but rather, gently persuades the creature to comply, inhibiting their magical abilities or more violent tendencies."

����������� As the collar made its way through the rows, Harry observed it closely. It felt soft and warm, like worn leather, but there was a subtle, insistent pressure that radiated from it, a feeling of being gently but firmly suppressed. It wasn't painful, but it was deeply unsettling, a sensation that mirrored the forced control he had to exert over his own heightened senses. He passed it on quickly, a faint shiver running down his spine.

����������� Then, Huntington's hand dipped into a velvet pouch on his desk, and he pulled something out with a flourish. A hush fell over the classroom. Even Harry, despite his heightened senses, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the classroom's coolness. In Huntington�s hand, gleaming under the torchlight, was a pure silver dagger. Its blade shimmered with an eerie luminescence, and even the hilt was crafted from the same unblemished, gleaming metal.

����������� "And now," Huntington�s voice dropped, becoming almost reverent, "we come to a more serious defense. This, class, is a pure silver dagger. Few materials in the magical world possess the inherent properties to combat creatures of true darkness. Can anyone tell me against which formidable magical creature such an object is primarily effective?"

����������� Hermione�s hand shot up immediately, but Huntington ignored her, his gaze sweeping over the class, pausing for a fraction longer on Harry.

����������� "This dagger," Huntington continued, turning it slowly so the light caught its deadly edge, "is lethal against werewolves. Its unique composition disrupts their unnatural healing, burns their flesh, and ultimately, when stabbed into the beast, can end their monstrous existence. It is not to be trifled with, nor is the creature it is designed to slay. Never underestimate the danger posed by a werewolf, no matter its apparent form."

����������� As Huntington began to pass the dagger down the row closest to him, instructing each student to "inspect it carefully; feel its weight, observe its craftsmanship." Harry watched, a cold knot forming in his stomach. The silver seemed to pulse with an almost visible malevolence in his amplified vision. The thought of touching it made his skin crawl.

����������� The dagger reached the student at the end of Harry's row. Harry braced himself, prepared to make an excuse, to pretend he was busy with his notes. But before he could even formulate a thought, Ron, sensing his friend's rising panic, acted. Ron's hand shot out over Harry's desk, snatching the dagger from the bewildered student who was about to pass it to Harry.

����������� "Got it, mate!" Ron mumbled, trying to sound casual, turning the dagger over in his own hands, his face a picture of feigned interest.

����������� A faint, almost imperceptible frown touched Huntington's lips as his eyes locked onto Harry. He strode over to Harry's desk.

����������� "Mr. Potter," Huntington said. "I believe the dagger was intended for your inspection. Everyone is to look over and study each object, as there may be a test or essay on it at the end of the week."

����������� "I can see it fine from Ron's hands, sir," Harry mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady. His leg bounced nervously under the table. "I've got a good view."

����������� "I insist, Mr. Potter," Huntington replied, snatching the dagger away from Ron and extending his hand. "You are not above the rest of the class. Every student must participate fully if they wish to receive full credit for today's lesson."

����������� Harry's heart pounded against his ribs. He saw the cold, determined glint in Huntington's eyes. There was no escape. Slowly, reluctantly, Harry reached out. As his fingers closed around the cold, slick silver of the handle, a searing heat flared through his palm. He clenched his teeth, a silent gasp caught in his throat. It felt like fire, a thousand tiny needles piercing his skin. He tightened his grip, trying to hide the immediate reaction, praying his face remained neutral.

Huntington, however, did not move. He stood over Harry's desk, watching him intently, continuing his lecture, his gaze occasionally sweeping the room but always returning to Harry.

����������� The burn was so intense that Harry touched the blade with his other hand, relaxing his burning hand just enough to relieve the pain without fully opening his palm to reveal the damage to Huntington. It slowly turned into a juggle between his hands as Huntington stopped Harry from handing it off to Ron.�

����������� "Notice its weight," he droned on, "perfectly balanced for a swift, decisive strike. The pure silver ensures maximum efficacy against creatures of unnatural regeneration."

����������� Harry's palms burned. He could feel blisters rising, bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. He desperately wanted to turn the dagger over, to relieve the pressure, but that would expose the horrific reaction. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his jaw aching from how tightly he was gritting his teeth. The silver felt like a branding iron, scorching him, but Huntington remained rooted beside him.

����������� Just as Harry thought he might cry out, a clear, defiant voice cut through the tense silence.

����������� "I don't believe in werewolves!" Hermione declared, her hand shooting into the air.

����������� The class collectively gasped, and every head, including Huntington�s, snapped towards Hermione. Huntington's eyebrow rose, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

����������� "Miss Granger," he said, his voice held an almost amused disbelief. "How can you possibly say such a thing? Are you questioning centuries of documented magical history? The very existence of creatures we have studied extensively?" He moved away from Harry's desk, striding purposefully towards Hermione's.

����������� The moment Huntington's attention was diverted, Harry, with a desperate, jerky movement, shoved the dagger back into Ron�s hand. Ron flinched, but quickly took it. Harry hissed through his teeth as loudly as he dared, and quickly brought his hands under the desk, pressing them against his thighs. His palms were a raw, angry red, blistering and weeping. He tried to stifle another hiss of pain, the burning sensation immense.

����������� "Because, Professor," Hermione continued, her voice gaining strength, "it just doesn't make any logical sense! They only transform under a full moon? That's biologically impossible! How would a human body undergo such a drastic metamorphosis and then revert without lasting damage? It's absurd. They're clearly just stories designed to scare people."

����������� Huntington listened, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his eyes remained sharp.

����������� "Miss Granger, magic, by its very nature, often defies conventional logic. I must say, your muggle upbringing is most likely to blame for your . . . disbelief. The lunar cycle's influence on lycanthropy is well-documented and deeply rooted in ancient magic. The transformation itself, while agonizing, is sustained by powerful enchantments inherent in the curse. As for lasting damage," he paused, his gaze sweeping over the class, "some indeed carry marks, scars that linger long after the moon has waned. And they cannot be underestimated, Miss Granger. No matter how young, or how seemingly innocent, a werewolf is a creature of immense power and unpredictable ferocity. Their danger is absolute."

����������� As Huntington spoke, his gaze drifted back towards Harry, a calculating glint in his eye. He noticed Harry's hands hidden beneath the desk. His eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of suspicion reigniting.

����������� RRRING!

����������� The bell shrieked, echoing loudly through the classroom. The sudden noise made Harry flinch, and he quickly pulled his hands even tighter against himself.

����������� "For homework," Huntington announced over the clamor of students gathering their bags, "I want a two-foot essay on the defensive applications of pure silver against magical creatures, with a particular focus on its properties against werewolves! Class dismissed!"

����������� Students scrambled out, eager to escape. Harry, with Ron and Hermione close behind him, tried to melt into the crowd, his hands still hidden. He could feel Huntington's gaze on his back until they rounded the corner and disappeared down the corridor.

����������� �Thanks, Hermione,� Harry said. �I thought my hands were going to fall off.�

����������� �I�m sorry I wasn�t faster,� Hermione said. �How are your hands?�

����������� �Not too bad . . .� Harry started to say, glancing at one of his hands.

����������� �Not too bad?� Ron repeated, frowning at his friend. �They�re practically cooked! Not too bad, you need your head checked, mate.�

����������� �You need to see Madam Pomfrey,� Hermione said.

����������� �No, I can�t, Huntington is probably on his way there now.� Harry glanced over his shoulder then whispered to his friends. �He�s expecting me to do that and then I�ll just prove what I am to him.�

����������� �You need to get your hands treated,� Hermione pushed.

����������� �I know.� Harry hesitated as they came up to a staircase. �I�ll go to Snape. He�ll be quiet about it.�

����������� �Good thing it�s a free period now,� Ron muttered.

����������� �Not for Professor Snape,� Hermione said. �You better hurry before his class starts up.�

����������� �How do you know he has a class now?� Ron asked.

����������� �Because I pay attention,� Hermione shot back. �And I overheard some seventh years earlier today saying they would be attempting a new potion today in class.�

����������� �I�ll catch up to you guys later,� Harry said, turning down the staircase to the dungeons, leaving his friends to argue over what classified as �paying attention� and what was �eavesdropping.�

 

����������� The chime for the next class had just echoed through the dungeons, and Severus, draped in his customary black robes, had just begun to speak to introduce the day's lesson to his seventh-year Potions class. The scent of various potion ingredients, freshly laid out on the student workstations, filled the air.

����������� The classroom door creaked open, and every head swiveled. Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking pale and hesitant.

����������� Severus�s eyes narrowed.

����������� "Potter!" he snarled, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the class. "Are you quite mad? Do you make it a habit to disrupt my lessons with such reckless abandon? This had better be of monumental importance, or you will find yourself scrubbing cauldrons with a toothbrush until you graduate!"

����������� Harry, ignoring the glares of the older students and Severus�s questioning, simply walked with purpose towards the front of the classroom. As he reached Severus�s desk, he subtly extended his hands, palms up.

����������� Severus was mid-sentence, about to launch into another tirade, when his gaze fell upon Harry's outstretched hands. The words died in his throat. His sharp eyes immediately registered the angry red burns, the nascent blisters already forming on the boy's skin. The sneer vanished, replaced by a flicker of shock so profound it rendered him momentarily speechless. His jaw tightened.

����������� Then, with a remarkable recovery that few could have managed, Severus snapped back into character.

����������� "Ten points from Gryffindor for this audacious intrusion, Potter!" he barked, his voice regaining its usual bite, though a careful ear might have detected a faint tremor of suppressed fury. He swept his gaze over the bewildered seventh-years. "You will all review chapters twenty-two and twenty-three of 'Advanced Potion-Making' and summarize them in a three-foot essay. I will be asking all of you pointed questions on the reading material next class. Class dismissed!"

����������� A collective groan went up from the seventh-years, quickly followed by the rustle of robes and the scraping of chairs as they scrambled to pack their bags. Severus, without another word, took Harry by the arm � a grip that was surprisingly firm yet not unkind � and steered him swiftly out of the classroom, leaving the perplexed students to their unexpected homework.

����������� Severus practically propelled Harry down the corridor and into his private office, kicking the door shut behind them with a muffled thud. He pushed Harry into a chair by the unlit fireplace, then began to pace, snatching various vials and jars from his overflowing shelves, searching through his supplies.

����������� "Now, Potter," Severus commanded, "explain precisely what happened. And do not, for Merlin's sake, omit a single detail. Why are your hands in this deplorable state?"

����������� Harry, wincing as he accidentally brushed his burnt palm against the armrest, began to explain.

����������� "It was in Defense Against the Dark Arts, sir. Professor Huntington . . ." He recounted the lesson: the charm, the faerie dust, the muzzle, and then, the pure silver dagger. He explained how Ron had tried to shield him, how Huntington had insisted he take it, and the agonizing burn as he held it, gritting his teeth to prevent a reaction. He finished with Hermione's quick thinking, distracting Huntington, and the bell ringing just in time.

����������� Severus listened in stony silence, his movements never faltering as he selected a small jar of viscous, pale green salve and a stoppered vial of shimmering blue liquid. He turned, a suspicious look on his face, his dark eyes fixed on Harry.

����������� "Huntington introduced a pure silver dagger in class?" His voice was low, almost a growl. "And specifically lectured on its efficacy against werewolves?�

����������� Harry nodded, looking down at his hands.

����������� "Yes, sir. He even said something about 'no matter how young or innocent it may seem,' and he looked right at me."

����������� Severus let out a low, dangerous hiss, a sound that made the hair on Harry's arms prickle. He knelt before Harry, gently taking one of his burnt hands. The touch was surprisingly light, almost tender, as he began to apply the green salve. It was cool and immediately soothing, dulling the searing pain.

����������� "This is a potion salve for immediate relief and accelerated healing," Severus explained, his voice still tightly controlled. "It will prevent scarring. And this," he said, uncorking the blue vial and pressing it into Harry's uninjured hand, "is a pain reliever. Drink it."

����������� Harry swallowed the potion. It tasted faintly of mint and licorice, and within moments, the remaining ache in his hands subsided.

����������� Severus continued to meticulously apply the salve, his brow furrowed in concentration.

����������� �If you had held that dagger any longer,� Severus began to say, �I don�t think there would have been much fixing that could have been done for your hands.� Severus gently traced a blister on Harry�s palm. �The burns go fairly deep, and small traces of silver has no doubt entered your blood stream through these blisters, which means your natural healing will be much slower, more like that of a normal human than a werewolf. I want you to take a few other potions, one will help eliminate the silver in your blood and the other will counteract with the silver and keep it from causing any further harm.�

����������� Severus finished applying the salve, and while his hands were not entirely healed, they felt a lot better, and the majority of the blisters and redness was gone.

����������� �Thanks,� Harry muttered softly, pulling his hands close.

����������� Severus returned his potions to the shelves and grabbed two new vials. He handed them to Harry, who obediently drank the potions without protest.

����������� The silence in the office stretched, broken only by the soft scrape of Severus's robes against the stone floor as he paced his office. He stopped abruptly, turning to face Harry, his expression unreadable.

����������� "This changes things," Severus stated. "Huntington is far more perceptive � and far more dangerous � than I initially gave him credit for. His methods today were a direct, deliberate attempt to ascertain your condition, without directly accusing you.�

����������� Harry shifted in his chair, a fresh wave of dread washing over him. "So, what do we do, sir? He knows."

����������� Severus's eyes narrowed.

����������� "He suspects, Potter. Strongly. But suspicion is not proof. And proof, for something of this nature, is difficult to obtain. Especially when it involves a professor openly targeting a student in such a fashion." He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Accusing him of foul play now, without undeniable evidence that he knew what he was doing, would be . . . premature. And it would draw unwanted attention to you."

����������� He paced again, then stopped, looking directly at Harry. "For now, the best course of action is to lay low. If he attempts to engage you in any personal conversation, feign ignorance, appear distracted, or simply state you are unwell and require the infirmary. You are to keep your distance when you can. Do not, under any circumstances, allow him to isolate you. Do you understand?"

����������� Harry nodded vehemently. "Yes, sir."

����������� "Good," Severus said, his voice firm. "And should he attempt anything similar again, anything that makes you uncomfortable, or puts you in a position of revealing your . . . condition . . . you are to come to me immediately. Do not hesitate. Do not wait for a bell. Do not wait for class to end. Is that clear?"

����������� "Crystal, sir," Harry replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. The thought of Severus, as protective as he was, having to confront Huntington publicly sent a shiver down his spine. But the alternative � being exposed � was far worse.

����������� Severus nodded.

����������� "Very well. Now, your hands should heal completely by tomorrow morning. I will, however, ensure that Professor Huntington receives a . . . stern reminder . . . regarding the responsible handling of dangerous artifacts in a classroom setting. And perhaps a quiet word with Dumbledore about the suitability of certain lesson plans." A faint, dangerous smirk touched his lips. "He won't know it's related to you, but he will certainly feel the consequences."

����������� Harry nodded in understanding, offering a small smile.

����������� The following morning, Severus moved with a predatory grace, his usual black robes appeared to absorb every mote of light, and his expression was a carefully blank mask. He had meticulously reviewed the Third-Year Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum, cross-referencing it with the recent incident, and a plan, as intricate and cold as one of his own Potions, had solidified in his mind.

����������� He found Professor Huntington in the Great Hall, lingering over a plate of perfectly buttered toast, an air of polished confidence firmly in place. Huntington caught Snape's eye and offered a congenial, if somewhat wary, smile.

����������� "Severus," Huntington began, a hint of false warmth in his voice. "A fine morning, wouldn't you agree? The weather seems to be holding."

����������� Snape merely inclined his head. He stopped precisely across from Huntington at the table, close enough to command attention, far enough to maintain a frosty distance.

����������� "Indeed, Huntington," Snape drawled. "Though perhaps not as 'fine' as certain . . . irresponsible . . . pedagogical choices might induce in a more seasoned educator."

����������� Huntington�s smile faltered slightly. "I'm not quite following, Severus."

����������� "Are you not?" Snape's eyes bore into Huntington's. "Allow me to clarify. It has come to my attention that your demonstration yesterday involved a rather unconventional handling of certain highly sensitive materials. A silver dagger, if I am not mistaken?"

����������� Huntington straightened, a hint of defensiveness entering his posture.

����������� "It was a controlled demonstration, Severus. Essential for demonstrating the properties of defensive objects. Every precaution was taken."

����������� "Precautions?" Snape's voice dropped, becoming dangerously soft, each word enunciated with chilling precision. "Pray tell, Huntington, do your 'precautions' typically involve parents receiving letters from their children detailing the casual handling of potentially dangerous artifacts? Or perhaps the sudden appearance of said artifacts in classrooms without proper prior notice for those with . . . particular concerns?"

����������� He leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper, yet it seemed to vibrate with suppressed fury.

����������� "I've received complaints, Huntington. Vigorous ones. About what their precious little darlings are writing home regarding the reckless introduction of items that could, theoretically, cause injury or distress. A common, though often overlooked, ingredient in a potion could cause hives, a spell miscast might induce temporary blindness. But a weapon-grade, magically reactive material, designed for lethal effect against a specific creature, placed directly into the hands of an untrained child? That, Huntington, verges on the criminal."

����������� Snape straightened, his gaze sweeping around the Great Hall as if to ensure no one was privy to their hushed exchange, then returned to Huntington, his eyes gleaming.

����������� "Or perhaps, you merely possess a . . . lack of foresight in your lesson planning. A failure to adequately assess the potential risks of your chosen demonstrations. Such oversights, I assure you, do not go unnoticed. Not by me, and certainly not by certain other parties who hold the welfare of all Hogwarts students in exceptionally high regard."

����������� The implied threat hung heavy in the air, potent and unspoken. Huntington's face had gone pale. He knew Snape spoke not just as a fellow professor, but as the Head of Slytherin, and as someone with connections far deeper and darker than most. The veiled reference to "other parties" hinted at Dumbledore, or worse, the Ministry, perhaps even powerful families who might take offense at their children being subjected to such reckless lessons.

����������� "I . . . I assure you, Severus, my intentions were purely educational," Huntington stammered, his usual composure cracking. "I would never intentionally endanger a student."

����������� "I merely caution you, Huntington," Snape concluded, his voice reverting to its usual cold drawl, though the menace still lingered beneath the surface, "to exercise greater discretion. Hogwarts is not your personal laboratory for speculative experiments. And its students are not your test subjects. Should such a lapse in judgment occur again, you will find the consequences to be far more substantial than a mere 'fine morning' start to the day. Do I make myself clear?"

����������� Without waiting for a reply, Severus turned on his heel, his robes swirling dramatically, and swept out of the Great Hall, leaving Huntington pale, shaken, and staring blankly at his untouched toast. The message had been delivered, precisely and painfully, with an unmistakable warning that would certainly make Huntington think twice about his next lesson plan.

 

 

�����������

�����������

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

�I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go

Where the wind don�t change and nothing in the ground can ever grow

No hope, just lies, and you�re taught to cry into your pillow

But I survived�

�Alive� Sia

����������� It was late, well past curfew, and Severus was in his private quarters, meticulously analyzing a vial of freshly brewed potions from his sixth years. The air around his desk was thick with the scent of simmering ingredients, old parchment, and a faint, acrid tang of something medicinal.

����������� The knock on the door was soft and hesitant. He knew, instinctively, who it was. Few others would dare to approach his door at this hour, and none with such distinctive, nervous energy.

����������� Severus set the vial down with a soft thud and strode to the door. When he opened it, Harry was standing on the threshold, his face pale and his eyes wide, a palpable anxiety radiating from him that seemed to push back against the stuffy air of the dungeons. His shoulders were hunched, his hands twisting at his sides.

����������� "Potter," Severus said, his voice flat. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

����������� "Sorry, sir," Harry mumbled, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting a prefect to appear at any moment. "I . . . I just needed to talk to you."

����������� Severus sighed and stepped aside, gesturing for the boy to enter. He didn't bother with a lecture; he could see the genuine distress in Harry's eyes. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, the sound swallowed by the thick stone walls, Severus waved his wand, and a nonverbal charm sealed the office from prying ears.

����������� "The dementors," Harry said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. "They've moved in closer."

����������� Severus's hand stilled. He had suspected as much. His own senses had picked up the subtle, yet growing, chill that had begun to permeate the castle walls in the last few days. He had chosen to ignore it, perhaps a bit too used to the surge of self-loathing that sometimes struck him so suddenly. Now he could understand the reason for some of his negative energy as of late. He had been so focused on managing the boy's lycanthropy that he had neglected to account for the secondary, and in many ways more insidious, threat.

����������� "I was beginning to notice a marked increase in the misery levels of my students," Severus said. "How can you tell?"

����������� "I can . . . feel them more," Harry explained, his hands clenching at his sides. "It's like the cold isn't just outside anymore. It's inside my bones." He shivered, a tremor that ran from his neck down his spine. "I can't feel my happy memories as well as I used to.�

����������� Severus nodded slowly. This was exactly what he had feared. The lingering magic of the patronus was a powerful thing, and the close proximity of the dementors was a constant drain on Harry�s reserves. Being able to cast the charm would help the child tremendously.

����������� "I want to revisit the lessons," Harry said. "We can do it in here, can�t we?"

����������� Severus shook his head, a frown deepening on his face. �That is not possible.�

����������� Harry�s face fell. �But why not? You said you would help me.�

����������� �Your boggart has changed, Potter,� Severus explained. �It is no longer a dementor. It is now a cage, is it not? A place where you are contained, trapped, unable to escape. It would be difficult to attempt to practice with the real thing when your mind is so focused on that new fear still so fresh in your mind and affecting you the way it is. A dementor would take advantage of it. In truth, practicing the charm with a real dementor is incredibly dangerous. We will not be attempting that.�

����������� Harry deflated. "So what do I do?"

����������� �You do what I told you to do,� Severus said, his tone firm. �The core of the Patronus Charm lies in the strength of the happy memory that fuels it. You must find a memory so strong, so profound, that it can override the presence of a dementor. The memory is the key.�

����������� �But how am I supposed to know which memory is the right one if I can�t practice with a dementor?�

����������� �Because the right happy memory will help you face all of your fears, not just that of a dementor. It will bring you to a place where you can feel secure and protected, no matter the circumstances.� Severus tapped his chin thoughtfully as he studied Harry, as if debating if he really wanted to do something or not. �Come. I think it�s time for a far more pertinent lesson.�

����������� Hary frowned, but followed Severus through his chambers and to the added bedroom, only pausing when he realized Severus was heading for the wall that concealed the hidden room.

����������� �We�re doing that again?� Harry looked at the door, then back at Severus with a wary expression. �But . . . I didn�t even take a calming potion.�

����������� �Good,� Severus said. �It means we can get to the root of the issue without any magical interference.� He tapped the wall and it began to open, and Harry swallowed dryly as he tried to keep his heart rate from spiking as he watched the room slowly reveal itself, the wall rumbling as it slid aside.

����������� �Close your eyes,� Severus said, his voice now a low command. �Begin the meditation exercises I taught you. Focus on your breathing. You must center yourself before you can summon the memory.�

����������� Harry did as he was told, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused on the slow, deliberate rhythm of his inhales and exhales. Severus gently took Harry�s hands in his and began pulling him into the hidden room. He kept a hold of Harry�s hand, the contact surprisingly grounding, and led him inside. The wall sealed itself behind them, closing them both inside.

����������� �Now,� Severus�s voice was a low murmur. �Find a memory. Find the happiest memory you have.�

����������� Harry, with his eyes still closed, delved into his mind. He recalled the moment Hagrid had told him he was a wizard, the wonder and relief washing over him. He moved on to the memory of meeting Ron and the Weasleys, the instant sense of connection and friendship, of being welcomed into a family he had only ever dreamed of. He remembered his first Christmas at Hogwarts, feeling the genuine warmth and joy of belonging for the first time in his life. He recalled flying on his broom, soaring through the sky, the wind whipping his hair, the exhilarating sense of freedom and weightlessness. He tried to focus on the powerful feelings each of those moments had left him with. He felt a wave of happiness and joy wash over him, a feeling of love and friendship that had been so absent from his life for so long. He held on to that, smiling softly.

����������� He nodded his head, and said, �I�m ready.�

����������� Severus�s grip on his hands tightened then released. �Open your eyes.�

����������� Harry opened his eyes, a serene smile on his face. However, upon seeing the room, his smile faltered, then vanished completely.

����������� The room was bare. The walls were a cold, unpainted gray stone, the floor a rough concrete. The charmed window, which usually let in a warm, comforting light or a glimpse of the stars, was now barred, allowing only a small, dim sliver of moonlight to pass through. The room felt cold, the air thick with the dust of ages. A dark, eerie effect settled on the space.

����������� �What did you do to the room?� Harry asked, his voice a tremor.

����������� Severus did not answer. Harry looked around frantically, his eyes scanning every corner, but the professor was gone. A cold dread, far worse than the creeping chill of a dementor, began to settle in his chest. He was alone. Trapped. Locked away.

����������� His mind, no longer focused on the happy memories, was now a whirlwind of terror. He saw the cupboard under the stairs, small and dark. He could feel the splinters of the wood digging into his skin, the heavy lock clicking shut, the impenetrable darkness that swallowed him whole. Then he saw Dudley�s second bedroom, the window barred with metal just like this one, the feeling of being caged, a prisoner in his own home. He remembered the humiliation of being fed soup through a doggy door like an animal, and the fear of starving because he�d shared what little he had with Hedwig.

����������� He was locked away again. And this time, he knew why. He was a monster, a freak, a werewolf. They would keep him here forever if the world knew. He felt himself begin to lose control. A desperate, animalistic cry rose in his throat, and he stumbled towards the wall, pounding on it with his fists.

����������� �Professor!� he screamed, his voice raw with panic. �Let me out! Please!�

����������� �Potter, calm down!� a voice said, and a hand clamped down on his shoulder. �I never left, I�m right here.�

����������� Severus managed to pull Harry away from the wall, and Harry nearly lashed out in surprise, a snarl rising in his throat, but Severus caught his wrists, his grip firm but not painful.

����������� �Breathe, Harry. Calm down. You�re safe.�

����������� He released Harry�s wrists and placed one hand on each side of Harry�s face, holding him steady.

����������� �Focus on my voice. Breathe with me.� He began breathing slowly and deliberately, his gaze never leaving Harry�s. �Just breathe. Through your nose . . . out through your mouth. That�s it. Calm down.�

����������� Harry�s body was shaking, but he did as he was told. He focused on the feeling of Severus�s thumbs stroking the sides of his face, the slow, rhythmic breathing, and the steady, grounding presence of the man in front of him. The panic began to recede, leaving him weak and exhausted. He reached up to cover one of Severus�s hands on his cheek, his own touch a testament to his desperation for comfort. Severus didn�t say anything, but he didn�t move either. He simply waited, reminding Hary to breathe when he needed it.

����������� At last, Harry�s breathing steadied, and the tremors ceased. The panic was gone, replaced by a profound sense of humiliation and shame. The moment he was fully calm, Severus waved his wand, and with a soft whoosh, the room was restored to its original look. The dark, cold walls were replaced by the warm, painted stone, the barred window by the charmed one allowing a brilliant sun to shine through. The two plush armchairs, the low coffee table, the large rug on the floor, and the four-poster bed with extra blankets and pillows all reappeared, as if they had never been gone.

����������� Severus led Harry to one of the chairs, and they both sat down. He didn�t say anything, but with a flick of his wand, two mugs appeared on the coffee table. He poured a steaming, golden liquid into one mug and a black tea into another. He handed Harry the golden liquid, a potion for anxiety and a calming draught. Harry took several small sips, his hands trembling slightly, watching Severus prepare his own tea.

����������� The silence stretched between them, comfortable but heavy with unsaid things. Severus broke it first.

����������� �Your chosen memory did not work, Potter,� he said. �The mental anguish you experienced was far more powerful than any joy you were able to summon.�

����������� Harry looked down at his mug, his face heating up with embarrassment. He couldn�t bring himself to look at Severus.

����������� �I . . . I don�t know what happened, sir. It just got away from me.�

����������� �That is precisely my point,� Severus said. �If you cannot maintain focus on a happy memory, then you must face the dark memories that keep winning you over. You clearly have more demons you�re facing than you care to let on, and if you cannot face the demons in your head, you will never face the ones outside Hogwarts.� He took a slow sip of his own tea, his eyes fixed on Harry�s.

����������� Harry remained silent for a long moment, then finally spoke in a whisper. �It�s just embarrassing.�

����������� �What is?� Severus asked.

����������� �The memories that make me panic,� Harry said, his shoulders slumping. �They�re so stupid.�

����������� �Stupid or not, they clearly have a strong effect on you,� Severus pointed out. He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands interlocked. �Sharing these memories is the first step in facing them. I want nothing more than for you to be successful in protecting yourself from the dementors, but you have to be open with me or I can�t help you. I promise that whatever you say to me in this room will remain confidential.�

����������� Harry took another long minute to contemplate. He looked at Severus, at the unreadable but attentive expression on his face, and decided to trust him. He took a deep breath, and the words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.

����������� �They . . . they never wanted me,� Harry began, his voice cracking slightly. �The Dursleys. Ever since I went to live with them, they made sure I knew how unwanted I was. They always talked bad about my parents, saying they were no-good drunks and how they burdened them by leaving me with no parents, forcing them to raise me. But they didn�t even do that much. They made sure I knew how much of a burden I was every chance they got, especially at Christmas. They never gave me gifts or anything, not even a bedroom. I didn�t even know my own birthday till my primary school teacher told me.�

����������� Severus said nothing, just continued to watch Harry with his impassive look, and Harry felt boldened to keep going. He felt that if Severus had begun to look at him with pity or even sadness, he would quit talking, but it helped that Severus seemed relatively unaffected, at least outwardly. He kept talking.

����������� �My bedroom was a cupboard,� Harry admitted. �Under the stairs. It had a lock, too, and whenever they didn�t want to deal with me, they would just throw me inside and lock the door. A couple days sometimes. And that only changed when I was eleven and got my Hogwarts letter. They were afraid someone was spying on them and they moved me to Dudley�s second bedroom. But that wasn�t any better. They ended up locking me in there too. Putting bars on my window so I couldn�t escape or even let Hedwig out. She nearly starved the summer before second year. All I was fed was soup through a doggy door.� Harry�s hands trembled as he gestured with his own hands how small the doggy door was. �I had to pick out much of the bits for Hedwig to have, and I would just drink the broth.�

����������� Harry remembered how Ron and the twins had saved him from that before school started up and how grateful he had been. He talked a bit about this past summer, how he had gotten in trouble for blowing up his aunt, and what had led to that event. The memories were overwhelming him, and he stopped, looking up at Severus, waiting for a reaction.

����������� Severus was silent for a long moment, his impassive mask wavering slightly. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Harry's. "These are the memories that seem to trump the happy memory you�ve chosen?"

����������� Harry nodded, unable to speak.

����������� "The Dursleys sound like the worst sort of family," Severus said, almost as if making an observation on a potion brewed incorrectly.

����������� Harry nodded again, a tear rolling down his cheek.

����������� Severus looked at him intently, a flicker of something in his eyes that Harry couldn�t quite name.

����������� �Despite the deplorable treatment you have endured, you are a remarkably well-mannered young man, if not a bit cheeky at times and with a streak for defiance of authority, but I can see where that comes from now.� He paused, then continued, his tone softening. �Instead of looking back on where you came from, you should look ahead to where you are going. Focus on the happy memories that will be a part of your future, time spent with your friends and such. When memories of the Dursleys come up, remind yourself that it is in the past, and you are moving beyond that. It cannot harm you now.�

����������� �But the wolf in me has to be caged,� Harry said, the words a low, pained whisper. �Like I always was.�

����������� Severus leaned in closer, his voice firm but gentle. �Bright Eyes is not being caged. He�s being protected. Think of it that way. He is not being deprived of food or care or a safe place to sleep. He is simply in a guarded room for one night to keep him safe from those who may wish him harm and to keep others safe from him.�

����������� Harry kind of liked that thought. It helped him see a different perspective of the locked room they were currently in. But then a new fear crept in, and the peaceful thought vanished.

Could the Dursleys use that same argument? What would they think of him now? They would fear him, despise him even more, and lock him away somewhere no one would ever see him again. The thought made him tremble. Harry felt the verge of a panic attack returning.

����������� Severus saw it coming. Without a word, he rested a hand on Harry�s knee, his touch a physical anchor.

����������� �Breathe, Harry,� he said, his voice a quiet command. �Breathe. The Dursleys are behind you now. They cannot hurt you here. Focus on the happy memories.�

����������� �But what about summer?� Harry asked, his voice shaking. �Where am I going to stay?�

����������� �With me,� Severus said quickly, perhaps a bit too quick.

����������� Harry�s head snapped up.

����������� �Really?� he asked, a fragile hope in his eyes.

����������� �The headmaster has found us a location far from muggle towns where you will be safe. And since you cannot live alone yet, I will stay there with you until such a time a more suitable guardian is found.�

����������� A wide, genuine smile spread across Harry�s face. �I don�t have to go back to the Dursleys?�

����������� �No. Never again,� Severus said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that was more reassuring than any promise he could have made.

����������� Without another thought, Harry jumped out of the chair and threw his arms around Severus�s neck, hugging him tight. The professor froze at first, his body stiff with shock, but then, a hesitant hand came up and rested on Harry�s back, then hugged him properly.

����������� �Perhaps this will ease your mind and help you hold on to a happy memory next time we try this,� Severus said, his voice a low, awkward rumble.

����������� Harry nodded into Severus�s shoulder but didn�t let go immediately. Severus awkwardly rubbed Harry�s back.

����������� �Are you okay, Harry?� he asked.

����������� �Yeah,� Harry whispered, his face heating up a bit. �No one�s ever really held me before.�

����������� �No?� Severus asked, though after hearing how the Dursleys treated Harry, he was not surprised to hear the confession. He carefully scooped Harry up into his lap and tightened his arms around him, holding him properly. Severus said, �We should remedy that.�

����������� Harry tucked his head under Severus�s chin and closed his eyes, allowing his senses to take over. The world outside the confines of the hug seemed to melt away, all the fears and anxieties receding into a distant hum. What remained was Severus. He could hear the man�s strong, steady heartbeat beneath his ear. The man�s scent filled his senses next: a complex weave of his signature cologne and the earthy, rich smells of all the spices and herbs of the ingredients he worked with, a scent woven into the very fabric of his robes. He decided then, subconsciously in the back of his mind, that this was his new favorite scent.

����������� He felt the deep warmth of Severus�s arms holding him snug, protectively. It was not a superficial heat, but a deep, penetrating warmth that soaked into his bones, chasing away the phantom chills of the dementors and the cold dread of his past. One hand rubbed soothing circles into his arm, a gentle, rhythmic motion that felt foreign and right all at once. He wondered, with a sense of profound shock, if this is what feeling protected was truly like. Harry felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and connection that transcended words and logic. It was a primal, gut-deep feeling of belonging, a fundamental need that his body, his wolf half, had recognized before his mind could.

����������� And then, without any thought behind it, driven purely by instinct, he lifted his head and began to lick at the man�s chin, a sudden, affectionate gesture that moved awfully close to Severus�s mouth.

����������� �Harry!� Severus scolded, jerking his head back.

����������� �Sorry, sorry!� Harry cried, jumping up to his feet and looking down, his face a furious red. �I don�t know what came over me.�

����������� Severus wiped at his face with a swipe of his sleeve as he gave Harry an annoyed but tolerant look. He let out a sigh.

����������� �In wolf packs,� Severus explained, his voice matter-of-fact as he stood up. �Licking the muzzle of other wolves is generally a friendly, if sometimes affectionate, greeting for one another and strengthens social bonds. I�m assuming your wolf half simply took over in that moment.�

����������� �Oh,� Harry said, his face still red. He had really just licked his potions professor. How awfully humiliating. He kept his head down and his eyes averted. "I'm . . . still sorry."

����������� �Apology accepted, though I�m not mad,� Severus said and he rested a hand on Harry�s shoulder. �I hope that knowing you will not have to go back to the Dursleys can help you overcome some of the fears you have pertaining what they�ve done to you. It�s a long road to full recovery but today was a good start. Thank you for confiding in me.�

����������� �I should be thanking you,� Harry said. �For . . . everything, really.�

����������� Severus smiled softly at Harry, a rare and genuine expression of warmth that reached his dark eyes, then led him out of the room.

����������� �We�ll try this again another time. Try picking a new happy memory to focus on, and I hope with what you�ve learned today, you�ll have a little more success next time.�

����������� �Yes, sir,� Harry said, then added, �Sir, can I spend the night here?�

����������� �It�s your room,� Severus said, raising a brow. �You may spend the night whenever you wish.�

����������� �Thanks,� Harry said.

����������� �Why don�t you ready for bed?� Severus suggested. �Then you can come join me for a spot of tea and maybe a couple biscuits.�

����������� �Yes, sir, thank you.�

Severus left Harry�s room. Harry pulled out some sleep clothes from the wardrobe, then sat on his bed and buried his head in his hands as he groaned in memory of licking his professor�s face, still very embarrassed. However, he also recalled the way Severus held him and how nice it felt, and he ran his hands over his arms, over the phantom feeling of Severus holding him. How protected he felt, how . . . cared for he felt. He smiled as he remembered Severus telling him he would never go back to the Dursleys. Instead, he would live with Severus. And that made him far happier than anything else he could think of. He decided that this memory would be the one he would try next.

 

The light of the office fire was hypnotic, casting long, shifting shadows that danced across the stone walls. Remus Lupin sat across from Harry, his tired face illuminated in the strange, cool glow. They had been talking for a while, the conversation drifting easily between the past and the present.

“Your father . . . he was so brave,” Remus said, leaning forward, his voice a warm. “Always the first to defend his friends, always ready for a laugh.”

Harry felt a wistful ache in his chest, a yearning for the family he’d missed. He studied the man, noticing the faint lines of stress around his eyes.

Remus’s expression grew serious, his eyes locking onto Harry’s. The fire’s light seemed to intensify, and the comfortable warmth in the room dropped several degrees. He leaned in closer, his voice sinking to a troubled whisper, heavy with an inexplicable sorrow. “I never wanted to hurt you, Harry.”

A cold jolt shot through Harry, a strange, profound sense of alarm that made him want to bolt upright. The words felt wrong, out of place. Before he could question them, Remus’s features began to blur, contorting rapidly. An agonizing transformation ripped across the man’s face; his gentle eyes flared with a sudden, predatory hunger, his teeth elongating into savage points. The man he knew was dissolving, replaced by a monstrous, snarling werewolf. It didn't pause; it simply lunged, a guttural growl vibrating through the air.

Harry gasped, a sharp, choked sound, his eyes flying open. His heart hammered against his ribs, but the werewolf was gone. He was slumped over a desk, a half-finished essay on moonstone properties beneath his cheek. The sounds of Charms class—scratching quills, turning pages, a professor's distant lecture—were muffled and indistinct.

Hermione, sitting beside him, looked up, her brow furrowed. "Harry? Are you alright? Do you feel sick?"

He stared at her, the terror of the dream clinging to him, making his thoughts slow and thick. He felt odd. His skin was prickling, a nervous energy thrumming just beneath the surface, making it difficult to answer. He could only manage to shake his head slightly.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron muttered, nudging him. "You fell asleep in Charms. That’s unusual, even for you.”

"He's having a hard time with all this, Ron, leave him be," Hermione scolded softly, her concern deepening as she studied his pale face and vacant eyes. "Are you sure you’re not feeling ill, Harry?"

The words from the dream, those terrifying, guilt-ridden words, surfaced unbidden. He mumbled them softly, not as an answer, but as a repetition of the haunting refrain.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, the sound reedy and faint, yet clear enough to catch the attention of his friends.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a confused, worried glance.

"What was that, Harry?" Hermione asked, leaning in, her voice hushed.

"Sounded like you said something weird, mate," Ron pressed. "Repeat that."

Harry didn't. Instead, the strange, wild energy he felt finally overwhelmed him. A deep, powerful tremor seized his body, and his conscious thought vanished. He felt his jaw ache as his teeth sharpened, his fingernails lengthening into claws. The familiar classroom and his friends blurred into a chaotic canvas of color and noise. Coarse, silver fur erupted, tearing the seams of his robes. A raw, guttural snarl—not Harry's voice, but the terrifying sound of the beast—ripped from his throat as he pitched forward.

Hermione and Ron screamed, recoiling in absolute horror as the transformed werewolf that was Harry lunged across the desk, driven by a savage, primal impulse to attack. Chaos erupted in the classroom.

Harry gasped, bolting upright in bed. His eyes snapped open, fixed on the canopy above him. The fear that was moments ago a physical, snarling presence receded, replaced by the profound, dizzying relief of the true awakening.

The silver fur and the scent of the werewolf were gone, leaving only the familiar feel of his pajamas and the scent of the cool morning air. The room was still, quiet, the first sliver of dawn filtering through the window of his room in the dungeons. He was safe. He was human. He was awake. For real this time.

The scent of pumpkin juice and sizzling bacon in the Great Hall usually brought a small, reassuring measure of normalcy to Harry’s mornings, but today it only seemed to amplify the internal storm brewing within him.

He was pushing a piece of sausage around his plate, his appetite non-existent, when Hermione’s voice, sharp with indignation, cut through the general breakfast din.

“It’s absolutely barbaric, Harry, you have to agree,” she insisted, leaning across the table, her copy of the Daily Prophet lying open next to her bowl of oatmeal. “Buckbeak is facing execution! All because that arrogant little ferret couldn’t follow basic instructions.”

Ron was already chewing with a look of fierce disapproval. “It’s completely unfair. Draco clearly provoked him. Buckbeak was just defending himself.”

Harry didn't respond. He only heard the buzzing sound of the voices, the clatter of cutlery, all distant and muffled. His mind was a trapped circuit, looping the terrifying images from his nightmare. I never wanted to hurt you, Harry. The words echoed with a hollow, guilty resonance.

Hermione continued, her voice rising slightly. “The Wizengamot’s Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures has set a date next month for the final ruling. And if they decide against him, they’ll set a date for . . . for the execution. It’s monstrous.”

“It’s like they just want to kill anything that’s a bit different, isn’t it?” Ron grumbled, stabbing his fork into a pile of eggs. “Like how Crookshanks wanted to kill Scabbers.”

“Crookshanks did not kill Scabbers, Ronald!” Hermione snapped, her voice high and exasperated. “I’ve told you countless times, he was probably just scared off. He’s a smart cat, he’d never just kill your rat.”

“Oh, so now the cat is smart and wouldn’t act on a natural impulse?” Ron countered, his ears beginning to turn red. “He was my oldest pet! And your cat is a menace!”

Harry watched the back-and-forth, but the argument was only background noise to the horror unfolding in his own head.

I never wanted to hurt you.

The words weren’t just Lupin’s; they were his own. The terror in the nightmare wasn't simply being attacked by a monster; it was the realization that the monster had once been a friend, a good man, driven to violence by a force he couldn’t control.

Remus never wanted to hurt me, but he did.

What if he, Harry, never wanted to hurt Ron or Hermione, but one night, the wolf simply took over?

He felt the familiar, low thrum of the lycanthropy beneath his skin—a constant, contained wildness. He had been so focused on getting the transformation right, on the pain and the cage, that he hadn’t fully grasped the terror of the loss of control. All this work they were doing, learning to accept a cage—what if it all still failed.

A deep sense of dread settled in his stomach, cold and heavy. He thought of Severus, who had shown him the first flicker of genuine care. He thought of Flick.

Severus can shift into Flick and join him in the same room.

What if, one night, the wolf decided to kill the snake? Severus was his protector, his anchor, the source of his new happy memory, but what if his wolf decided to kill the man? He could be asleep, transformed, and driven by a bloodlust he would never remember, only to wake up to the horror of what he had done.

I would never be able to stop it. I still have no control. I would never have control again.

As he spiraled, a heavy, ceramic bowl of porridge inched subtly closer to his plate. It was a movement that only Harry would notice—Severus’s nonverbal, silent instruction from the High Table to eat.

Normally, this would be a comforting reminder of care. But today, the subtle, possessive magic felt like a threat. Harry’s mind twisted the action into the image of a hand, a clawed hand, pushing food toward a beast.

What if he lunged across the hall, not at his friends, but at Severus? What if he rejected the care, the control, the structure, and simply attacked the one person who was trying to keep him safe? The thought was sickening, terrifyingly real.

He felt his hands clench into fists on his lap, his jaw tightening so hard it ached. He was a monster, a ticking clock of violence and regret, and every moment he spent near someone he cared about was a risk.

Ron and Hermione’s argument, escalating over the fate of a rat and a Hippogriff, finally penetrated the wall of Harry's self-loathing.

“You’re just biased because he’s your cat!” Ron shouted, throwing his hands up.

“I am not biased, Ronald! I’m being logical! Scabbers probably ran off!” Hermione insisted.

They both turned, suddenly, to Harry, demanding an adjudication.

“Harry, tell Ron that Crookshanks wouldn’t just murder a rat!”

“Harry, tell Hermione how unfair it is that Buckbeak might be killed just like Scabbers was!”

The simultaneous demand for a decision, for an opinion, for normalcy, shattered his control. He couldn't deal with Buckbeak, Scabbers, or any perceived injustice when his own internal existence felt like a profound, dangerous lie.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just leave me out of it!” Harry snapped.

The noise level in the hall dropped instantly. Hundreds of students and teachers turned to stare at the small, furious boy at the Gryffindor table.

Without another word, Harry shoved his chair back with a grating sound of the wood on the stone floor and scrambled to his feet. He didn't look at Ron's slack-jawed surprise or Hermione's hurt, stunned expression. He just ran.

He burst out of the Great Hall doors, ignoring the low, confused murmur that followed him.

“Harry! Wait up!” Ron’s voice echoed down the corridor, followed by Hermione’s sharp, worried call.

Harry didn't slow down. He found a reserve of speed he hadn’t possessed before his lycanthropy, a powerful surge of leg muscle and kinetic energy that propelled him down the stone staircases. He was surprisingly fast, almost a blur as he shot out of the castle entrance and onto the damp lawn.

He pushed his body harder, his desperate need for distance fueling him. The castle receded rapidly behind him, and the familiar, dense treeline of the Forbidden Forest loomed ahead. He burst into the trees, the thick foliage immediately muffling the sounds of his friends’ distant, pleading calls.

He sprinted deeper, the forest floor a blur beneath his feet. The wolf’s gifts were undeniable: he navigated the roots and rocks with fluid, perfect balance, the adrenaline pumping through him giving him a terrifying endurance.

Here, he thought, skidding to a halt by a towering ancient oak, his lungs burning but his legs still eager. Here, I can’t hurt anyone. Everything in this forest is a beast, a monster in its own right. I’m one of them now.

He leaned over, resting his palms on his knees, panting heavily, the raw, earthy scent of the forest filling his nostrils. The crushing shame of his outburst and the fear of his dreams coalesced into a desperate torrent of self-hatred.

They shouldn't be near me. I should be locked up. Remus should have been locked up. I am dangerous. I am a monster.

He blinked back the hot sting of tears, refusing to break down completely, when a movement in the shadows of the ferns drew his attention.

A large black dog stood silently, watching him.

It was impossibly large, its coat shaggy and matted, and it was watching him with an unsettling intensity. Harry recognized it instantly—the Grim, the omen of death he’d seen before.

Harry straightened up, fatigue and panic suddenly replaced by a morbid, weary acceptance.

“Oh, brilliant,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. He was too tired to run, too miserable to care. He looked straight at the dog. “If you’re going to do it, just make it quick. I’m not in the mood for a show.”

The dog didn’t growl or advance with menace. It simply tilted its massive head, its dark eyes unreadable, and then let out a soft, querying whine. It took a hesitant step closer and began to circle Harry, its movements cautious, not predatory.

As the dog moved into a shaft of filtered light, Harry saw it properly. It was thin, incredibly mangy, and looked half-starved. It wasn't the hulking, spectral beast of his fears; it was just a regular, huge, rather pathetic stray.

He let out a bitter, strangled laugh—a harsh, desolate sound.

“You’re not some Grim, are you, pup?” he asked, the laughter dying in his throat.

The dog stopped its circling, sat down a few feet away, and tilted its head again, its long, pink tongue lolling slightly.

“I haven’t got any food,” Harry told it, huffing out a tired breath. “You should go away.”

But the dog just kept staring, its presence oddly comforting in its silent, simple focus.

Harry shrugged, his breath returning. “Fine. Whatever. I’m going.”

Harry and turned and ran. The dog scrambled to follow, quickly finding a powerful trot that kept it right on Harry’s heels.”

Amused, Harry shook his head and pushed himself to go faster. “Try and keep up with this.”

He pushed off the ground, rocketing forward at top speed. The dog lagged behind a bit and gave a rather indignant huff, as if surprised at how quickly Harry could run. But the dog was not deterred. He pushed himself harder as well, catching up to Harry once more.

“Not bad, Pup!” Harry called out, a genuine, if desperate, thrill starting to replace the fear.

They bounded through the trees, weaving past trunks and low-hanging branches. Harry executed a wild, controlled flip down into a shallow ravine, landing perfectly, and the dog hopped after him, sliding a bit on the moss, but recovering instantly. At a sharp, sudden turn around a thicket of thorns, the dog’s paw slipped, but it scrambled desperately and caught up.

“Ha! Nice save!” Harry shouted. “Come on, Pup! Race you to that field up ahead!”

They finally broke out of the dense woods and into a vast, sun-drenched field of tall grass. Harry ran another fifty yards before his legs finally gave out. He collapsed in the cool grass, then burst out laughing as the dog collapsed on top of him, rolling around and licking Harry’s face, and laughter bubbled out of Harry’s chest as he pushed against the dog, trying to avoid the tongue on his face.

He reached out and stroked the dog’s scruffy, warm head. “Thanks for running with me, Pup.”

The dog stopped panting instantly. It lifted its head, tilting it yet again, staring at Harry with a look that seemed profoundly surprised. It then scrambled back a step, its body language shifting from playful exhaustion to sudden, wary apprehension.

“What’s wrong?” Harry sat up, confused. He looked around, then reached up, touching his own face.

The running. The exertion. The sheer mental strain had done it. His wolfish features had been subtly brought out. His teeth felt sharper, his ears were slightly more pointed beneath his messy hair, and his face was covered in a faint, rough scruff.

“Oh, no, Pup, it’s okay,” Harry said softly, his voice gentle. “It’s just . . . me.”

The dog didn't respond. It continued to back away, its dark eyes fixed on his altered face, before it wheeled around and took off back into the trees.

Harry fell back into the grass, staring up at the empty sky, the bitterness returning. “Great. Even the dog’s scared of me.”

He lay there for a few minutes, listening to the rustling silence of the forest, the shame suffocating him.

Then, a quiet movement. The dog was back.

It walked right up to him, a green plant held carefully in its jaws, and it dropped the flower onto Harry’s chest. It then nudged him gently with its nose.

Harry stared at the plant, then at the dog. He picked up the flower, a closed, trumpet-shaped plant, and cautiously brought it to his nose. A powerful, immediate sense of calm washed over him, a soothing, ethereal warmth that seemed to sink into his very bones and quiet the frantic energy of the wolf. The tense, wolfish features on his face faded away.

The dog then lay down next to him again, resting its heavy head on Harry’s chest. Harry scratched behind its ears, feeling the profound gratitude.

“Thanks, Pup,” Harry whispered. He felt an overwhelming urge to confide, to share the crushing burden he carried.

“I had to get away,” Harry began, his voice barely a murmur. He stroked the dog’s fur, finding comfort in the simple, steady weight of the creature. “I’ve been so afraid of the wolf inside me that now that I’m learning to accept it, what if I can’t always control it? I don’t want to hurt anyone, you know? Especially not accidentally, like in my dream. Or like . . . like Remus.”

The dog’s head lifted slightly on his chest, its ears flicking. Harry simply petted him soothingly.

“I won’t hurt you,” Harry promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Ever.”

A few moments later, a sharp, angry rustling sounded from the trees. The dog’s head snapped up instantly, its body tensing, and a low, resonant snarl rumbled in its throat, directed at the noise.

Severus Snape emerged from the treeline, his face set in a furious, rigid mask. His black robes seemed to blend with the shadows, and his eyes were wide with a mixture of anger and genuine concern.

“Potter! What in Merlin’s name were you thinking taking off like that, and into the Forbidden Forest of all places? Do you have any idea how long it took me to track you? The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason. Get over here!”

Harry immediately sat up, guilt replacing his quiet calm.

“I was fine,” he argued, standing up and moving toward Severus. “I can handle myself now, you know.”

Severus ignored the retort, his gaze sweeping over Harry before settling on the dog, which was now sitting silently in the grass behind Harry, watching them with intense, unblinking curiosity.

“What made you run off like that anyway?” Severus demanded.

“I just needed to be alone,” Harry mumbled, looking down at his scuffed sneakers that looked as if they might fall apart any minute now. “I was afraid I might hurt someone.”

“Why would you fear that?” Severus asked.

“You know,” Harry shrugged, uncomfortable. “Cause of what I am. I might not mean to. Like Remus.”

“Have you spoken to . . . Lupin recently?”

“No. I just had some bad dreams,” Harry answered, avoiding eye contact.

“Hmm,” Severus hummed softly, folding his arms. “I see. Perhaps some more meditation practice is in order. And a nap. You look like you could use one.”

“I don’t need a nap,” Harry argued, rubbing his eyes briefly.

“How long have you been having those kinds of nightmares?”

Harry shrugged, then said, “A few days now. Though it seems to be when the full moon starts getting closer, I get more nightmares.”

“I suppose that would make sense, given that much of your anxieties stem from your transformation. Potter, rather than running off into a dangerous forest, why didn’t you come to me about this?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

Severus sighed and said, “I think we have a lot to discuss. At least it is a weekend. You must know that with all the precautions we are taking, you hurting someone is relatively low now.”

“Remus still hurt someone.”

“Yes, well, he had no one helping him.”

“Weren’t you brewing his potions?”

“I meant behind the scenes. He had no one around to make sure he was taking his doses as he should and no one to help him through the night like you did. That is what is different between Lupin’s situation and yours. We are making sure that you do not handle this alone. And I can assure you, there will never be a chance in hell that you miss any more doses of your wolfsbane under my watch, as long as you comply with me and take your potions when I say. Including your nutritional potion.” Severus pulled a vial from his robe and handed it to Harry. “Think you can do that?”

Harry chuckled softly and nodded his head, taking the dose of the potion he had missed that morning, swallowing it down easily.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he agreed as he handed back the empty vial.

“Let’s head back to the castle,” Severus said, gesturing for Harry to follow. “You’ve had a busy morning.”

Harry nodded, then glanced back at the dog. “Hey, can Pup come inside with us?”

“Pup?” Severus asked, turning his full attention to the dog, whose ears perked up before it looked off into the trees behind it, as if considering running off.

“Yeah, Pup. Look at him, he’s super skinny. Someone must have dumped him out here. He won’t last much longer.”

“Who on earth would dump a dog in this area?” Severus scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “Besides, the rule is one familiar—a toad, cat, or an owl. Not a dog. Where would you keep him anyway?”

“Your quarters,” Harry said instantly.

“My . . . I have no need for a dog, Potter. Nor do you.” Severus retorted, crossing his arms sternly.

“But come on, look at him. He needs someone. And he likes me. He even brought me this.” Harry held up the green flower.

Severus took the plant, turning it over in his long fingers, examining it closely. “Red Hot Poker flower, hmm. It hasn’t bloomed yet. Must have been part of a collection from one of the greenhouses that spread into the forest.”

“What’s it for?” Harry asked.

“Wolves,” Severus answered simply. “There’s a pack that lives in the forest here, and they like the sweetness of the flower. It may also have some euphoric properties, like catnip to a cat. The dog brought this to you?”

“Yeah. Maybe it gives him the same feel-good stuff, and he thought it would help me,” Harry said.

“How peculiar,” Severus said, his dark eyes narrowed in intense scrutiny of the dog, whose ears lowered slightly under the examination. “Who would dump a dog out here . . .”

The dog suddenly charged forward, jumping up on Severus, placing its massive paws on his chest, and eagerly licking his face.

Severus spluttered, pushing the dog off him with a disgusted glare. “Get off, you mangy mutt!”

“I think he likes you,” Harry said with a surprised laugh, quickly distracting the dog with vigorous ear rubs, which earned a loud, happy groan and a wagging tail.

Severus huffed, crossing his arms and watching the interaction, though the suspicion in his face slowly vanished.

"Perhaps he does get the same high wolves do while smelling the plant and thought you might like it, too," Severus reasoned.

“Come on, sir,” Harry pleaded, looking up earnestly. “He needs somewhere to stay, just to get some weight on. He won’t last much longer.”

Severus sighed, a deep, weary sound of defeat.

“Just for a few nights, so he can recuperate. I certainly don’t need a dog, and this better not distract you from your studies.”

“No, sir, thank you!” Harry grinned, the crushing weight of his morning fears lifting slightly.

Severus gestured for him to follow. Harry scooped up the dog’s head and tugged gently. “Come on, Pup, let’s get you some food.”

Pup wagged his tail so hard his entire body shook and let out an enthusiastic bark at the mention of food.

“You need to come up with a better name than Pup,” Severus said dryly as they headed toward the castle.

“Why do you care?” Harry asked. “You don’t need a dog.”

“You’re right,” Severus said with a final, exasperated shake of his head. “Call him whatever you want. We certainly aren’t keeping him.”

Pup happily walked between the two, looking back and forth between Severus and Harry as they bantered on.

The transition to Severus Snape’s private quarters for the week leading up to the full moon was less jarring than Harry had anticipated, considering this was his second time staying a week with the professor. Once again, he was under the flimsy pretext of "heightened security risks due to continued Sirius Black sightings." The elaborate lie served its purpose: it kept the other staff and students from questioning Harry’s sudden absence from Gryffindor Tower and ensured the weekly dose of the Wolfsbane Potion could be administered in absolute secrecy and consistently. Severus was very serious on no missed doses.
Harry had just finished the first steaming dose, muttering about the unfairness of having to take it before dinner.
“The efficacy of this potion relies heavily on consistency, Potter,” Severus droned, screwing the stopper back onto the ornate crystal vial. “You will take this exact measure every day at sunset. It minimizes the risk of total mental atrophy during the transformation.”
Harry nodded, his mind only half on the potion. He was focused instead on the large, shaggy black dog lying on the hearthrug, already making himself quite at home.
“So, Pup can stay for now?” Harry asked, scratching the dog behind the ears. Pup responded with a low, rumbling groan of satisfaction.
Severus cast a disdainful look at the dog, whose presence introduced an element of chaos Severus clearly despised. “He may remain here for a few days, temporarily. Until we ascertain if he carries any communicable diseases or parasites which I am not prepared to share with my chambers.”
Harry’s heart sank slightly. “Only a few days? I’ll still be here in a week.”
“Precisely,” Severus said, his voice clipped. He strode over to his bar-like table—a high, dark surface of polished obsidian—and gestured with a flick of his wrist. “The closer we get to the transformation, the more erratic the wolf’s influence becomes. You need a stable environment. A wild, unvetted creature prone to boundary violations is antithetical to control. He will need to be relocated before then.”
“Relocated to where?”
“Hagrid’s hut would be a good start,” Severus replied, already turning his back to examine a stack of ungraded papers. “The grounds are secure, and Hagrid is more accustomed to . . . unconventional familiars. He can manage a stubborn, mangy mutt for a few nights.”
Harry felt a pang of worry for Pup, but before he could protest, a soft pop signaled the silent, instantaneous arrival of the house elves’ dinner service.
On the obsidian bar table, two plates of steaming food appeared: a sophisticated platter of roasted chicken and vegetables for Severus, and for Harry, a generous, if less elaborate, serving of shepherd’s pie, mashed potatoes, and gravy, his own choosing for dinner that night. Next to the table, on the floor, a sturdy ceramic bowl materialized, filled to the brim with dry, crunchy dog kibble.
Severus picked up the dog bowl with the tip of two fingers, as if handling something unpleasant, and set it down near the fireplace.
“There. Dine, creature. Quietly,” Severus commanded before he returned to the table and sat across from Harry.
Pup rose slowly, lumbered over to his bowl, and gave the dry brown kibble a long, languid sniff. The action itself conveyed utter disdain. He then pushed the bowl away with his nose, sending a couple of pieces skittering across the flagstones. Dismissing the meal, he trotted over to the dining table, sat squarely beside Harry’s chair, and stared up at the boy pleadingly.
“Oh, Pup, eat your food,” Harry whispered, already slicing off a bit of chicken with his fork.
“Potter! Don’t you dare,” Severus snapped, setting down his own fork with a sharp clink. “Do not feed the dog human food.”
Harry paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. “But look at him! He’s starving! And he clearly doesn’t know that kibble is food.”
“It is scientifically formulated dog food,” Severus corrected sternly. “It is the only proper nutrition he requires. Feeding him from the table will only teach him to beg and reinforce this deplorable lack of obedience. He will eat what is provided, or he will not eat at all.”
Pup whined, bumping Harry’s elbow. Harry instinctively moved to offer the food, but Severus’s glare stopped him.
“No, Potter. Do not encourage the behavior.” Severus rose from his seat, moving around the table with purposeful steps. He approached Pup, his voice low and firm. “Go. To. Your. Bowl.”
Pup dug his paws in, remaining stubbornly anchored next to Harry, and let out a soft, throaty growl directed at Severus’s boots.
Severus recoiled only slightly, a flicker of cold annoyance in his eyes. “You dare growl at your host? That is an unacceptable. If you wish to remain indoors, you will follow the rules.”
He bent down and tried to grab Pup’s scruff, but the dog resisted, planting his weight and pulling back toward Harry, whining pitifully and trying to hide behind Harry’s chair.
Harry slid out of his chair, attempting to intercept. “He’s just hungry, he’s not trying to be bad!”
“Sit down,” Severus said, and Harry sat back down with a sigh, watching as Severus managed to snag the dog and drag him back toward the bowl. He kicked the bowl a bit closer to where he managed to drag the dog to, but Pup wrenched away from him and ran back to Harry, crawling under the bar stool and resting his head down, glaring at Severus. Severus growled under his breath and moved back for the dog.
“Professor,” Harry tried to say.
“He is being insubordinate, and I will not permit it,” Severus said, his voice hard. “He will sit by his bowl. This is a matter of discipline, Potter. He must obey.”
Severus finally managed to hook a hand around the dog's thick scruff and began to drag him, the dog’s powerful body resisting every inch of the way, claws scraping against the stone.
Suddenly, Pup turned his head and, in a lightning-fast motion, snapped his jaws, the white tips of his teeth closing over Severus’s forearm, though they merely grazed the heavy, woolen fabric of his robes. The gesture was clear: he was prepared to bite.
The air in the room went instantly cold. Severus froze, his grip tightening but not wavering. His voice dropped to a lethal, flat whisper.
“If you bite me, mutt, you will be back outside the moment I release you, and you will not receive one speck of food, not even this pitiful excuse for sustenance. Do you understand?” Pup held his mouth over Severus’s arm for a tense moment, then slowly, reluctantly, his jaws relaxed and he closed his mouth, though his muscles remained coiled and ready.
Severus dragged the now slightly less resistant dog back to the bowl, forced him into a sitting position that looked deeply uncomfortable, and pointed a long, accusatory finger at the kibble.
“Eat it.”
Pup stared at the food, then at Severus, his eyes narrow and his tail utterly still. With a sudden, explosive movement, he thrust a massive paw out and irritably slapped the side of the ceramic bowl, flipping it over and sending kibble flying in a wide arc across the floor, several pieces pinging off Severus’s black robes.
Severus straightened up slowly, his jaw clenched, pure fury emanating from him.
“Very well,” he ground out. “Starve, then. I wash my hands of the matter. You are a petulant, spoiled menace.”
“Aww, oh, come on, Professor,” Harry interjected, giving Pup a sad, fond look.
Severus didn't even look at him as he returned to his seat. “I do not wish to hear it. He has made his choice.”
“But . . . he may genuinely not know it’s food,” Harry insisted, seeing the stubborn, hungry defiance in the dog’s eyes. He pushed his own chair back and stood up, reaching for his plate of shepherd’s pie—a meal he had been genuinely looking forward to.
“Don’t you dare,” Severus growled.
Ignoring Severus’s furious stare, Harry walked over to the dog’s bowl. He paused for a moment, then with a decisive scrape of his fork, he dumped the entire, steaming contents of his dinner—potatoes, gravy, mince, and all—into the kibble-filled bowl. The whole time, Pup was smiling wide, tongue hanging out, and his tail wagging a mile per minute.
“There,” Harry said, setting the plate back on the floor. “Try that.”
Pup looked at the mixed contents, then up at Harry, then back at the bowl. He lowered his head and took a tentative, then eager, bite. His tail began to thump against the stone floor, and he was soon devouring the meal with an enthusiasm that belied his previous haughty rejection. Pup paused mid-chew, looked over Harry’s shoulder at the rigidly sitting Severus, and gave what Severus absolutely swore was a smug, triumphant look before diving back into the gravy-soaked mixture.
“You, Potter, are an absolute idiot,” Severus hissed, watching the dog eat the dinner. “You have just rewarded insubordination, wasted a perfectly good meal, and confirmed to that animal that if he is disagreeable enough, you will cater to his every ridiculous whim.”
“He’s eating now, though,” Harry said simply, feeling a rush of satisfaction. He returned to the table, and almost instantly, a fresh, steaming plate of shepherd’s pie materialized where his empty one had been—the house elves were clearly on Harry’s side. Harry dug in with as much gusto as Pup had.
Severus simply stared at the new plate, defeated. “You may deal with the repercussions of this weakness. And since you have proven to be the creature’s emotional accomplice, you can now deal with the physical ramifications. Take that . . . Pup,” he used the name with audible disgust, “out for a necessary excursion. He will need a bathroom break after consuming human food.”
Harry beamed. “Yes, sir, Professor! Thank you.”
“Be back within the hour,” Severus warned. “Curfew is approaching. And for the love of Merlin, do not permit him to lick anything.”
Harry nodded, and once he finished his dinner, he called for Pup, who barked excitedly and followed after Harry. As they headed out, Pup trotting happily beside him, Harry couldn't help but feel a little victorious.
The cool, sharp air of the evening was a welcome shock after the stifling warmth of the dungeons and the suffocating tension of the dinner table. Pup trotted beside him, his tail swinging with loose, easy rhythm. The dog was far too large and far too energetic to be subtle, but he really did his best to move swiftly and unseen, and Harry was impressed at how quietly the dog was able to get around.
They kept to the winding, shadowed paths near the vegetable patches, safely distant from the main castle entrance but still within the protective perimeter of the wards. Harry was laughing softly, watching Pup sniff aggressively at a particularly pungent patch of cabbages.
“All right, Pup, hurry up,” Harry urged. “We’ve only got a few minutes before the Professor decides he needs to send a search party.”
Pup let out a low, satisfied huff and began to run ahead a bit, sniffing around in the nearby trees, his rustling through the bushes still visible to Harry even if the dog was mostly shielded by the shrubs. Harry felt the last vestiges of his earlier panic recede, the run through the woods earlier that day seemed to chase away any lingering feelings of fear and what ifs.
A voice, smooth as polished obsidian and just as cold, sliced through the quiet night air.
“Well, well. Look who decided to take a little constitutional beneath the moonlight.”
Harry froze, his entire body tightening. He knew that voice instantly. He turned to see Professor Huntington, emerging from the shadow of a high stone buttress. Huntington was impeccably dressed, as always, his silver hair catching the faint light from the distant castle windows. His smile didn't reach his eyes.
“Professor Huntington,” Harry managed, his tone flat.
“Indeed, Mr. Potter,” Huntington drawled, sauntering closer. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze sweeping over Harry’s face. “Taking a nocturnal stroll, are we? Rather late for a student, and one who is being targeted by a known murderer. Aren’t you supposed to be staying in a staff’s quarters for the next . . . week due to this?”
“Yes. I’m just . . . tending to my new familiar,” Harry replied, emphasizing the word familiar as if it were a perfectly normal thing to acquire a massive, mangy mutt in the middle of a school term.
Huntington chuckled, a short, dry sound that grated on Harry’s ears. “Ah, a new familiar! How very responsible of you. Though, my dear boy, you ought to be careful this time of night. Especially this time of the month. It’s when the dangerous creatures come out to play, isn’t it?”
The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded. This time of the month. The full moon was barely a week away. Huntington’s seemingly innocent comment was a direct, chilling allusion to Harry’s secret. It felt less like a reprimand and more like a warning, or perhaps a threat. Harry felt the muscles in his jaw tighten, the instinct to snarl rising unbidden. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm.
“I’m perfectly careful, sir,” Harry said, taking a deliberate step back.
Huntington’s smile widened, revealing a brief, sharp flash of white teeth.
“I’m sure you are. But these truly vicious things—the ones that look like men but aren't—they require a specialist’s touch. A clean, efficient execution. I promise you, Mr. Potter, I know how to keep everyone safe. I know how to get rid of such creatures swiftly. Without fuss and certainly without too much . . . pain. Though I do enjoy when they put up a fight. Makes the hunt all the more fun.”
The subtext was deafening: I know what you are, and I can deal with you.
“I guess if it’s your job, you have to enjoy it, right?” Harry said with an uneasy laugh as he took another step back.
“I suppose,” Huntington said as he closed the gap between them with a slow step forward. “It is one of the pleasures of the job.”
Before Harry could summon a retort—before his control could shatter and reveal any further tells—Pup suddenly came charging back from the trees. He darted out from behind Harry’s legs, placing himself squarely between the boy and the Professor.
The dog’s posture was instantly transformed. His back arched, his fur stood stiffly along his spine, and he let out a low, terrifying snarl that was far more menacing than anything Harry had heard him produce before. The sound was deep and territorial, the sound of a beast prepared to attack.
Huntington, for all his bravado, backed up a full pace, his veneer of cool composure cracking. His eyes were wide as he stared down the throat of the furious animal.
“My word!” Huntington exclaimed, the silkiness gone from his voice. “What kind of dog is that? He’s rather . . . spirited, isn’t he?”
“He’s my new familiar,” Harry repeated, his voice now steadier, bolstered by the fierce defense Pup was offering. He leaned down and placed a hand firmly on the dog’s scruff, letting the contact reassure him. “He’s very protective.”
Huntington slowly regained his footing, smoothing down the front of his robes. “I see. Well, Mr. Potter, let me remind you that students are permitted to have an owl, cat, or toad as familiars. Nothing so . . . large or aggressive.”
“Special permission is also a possibility, as is my case,” Harry stated firmly, remembering the vague, official-sounding excuses Severus often provided for his irregular circumstances. He was bluffing, but the conviction in his voice, backed by Pup’s continued, low-pitched threat, made it sound official.
Huntington studied Harry for a long, uncomfortable moment, the silence thick with suspicion.
“Very well, Mr. Potter. I shall await the inevitable memorandum regarding this special permission.” He offered a tight, dismissive nod. “Good night to you. And perhaps keep your beast on a shorter leash, eh?”
Huntington turned crisply and walked off, disappearing back into the deeper shadows of the castle walls.
Harry waited until the sound of the professor’s footsteps had completely faded before he let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He sank down and wrapped his arms around Pup’s neck.
“Good boy, Pup. You saved me there.”
Pup whined softly, licking Harry’s chin once before shaking out his fur, as if shedding the tension.
“Come on. Let’s go. Now.”
They ran—not the wild, desperate flight of the morning, but a fast, controlled sprint back toward the familiar, protective gloom of the dungeon entrance. Harry burst through the door of Severus’s private quarters, the heavy wood slamming shut behind him, sending a reverberation through the stone walls. He was panting slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Severus didn't look up from where he sat at his desk grading essays, but the motion of his quill over a parchment ceased. “I trust the ‘necessary excursion’ was concluded swiftly, Potter, and that you have not returned with any new stains on my floor.”
“We ran into Huntington,” Harry blurted out, still catching his breath.
Severus’s head snapped up immediately, the impassive mask falling away to reveal concern. He stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“Did he hurt you?” Severus demanded, his voice low and dangerous. He scanned Harry’s appearance rapidly, checking for any physical injury.
“No, no, sir, I’m fine,” Harry assured him. “He didn’t touch me. He just . . . talked. He was making comments.”
“Comments?” Severus narrowed his eyes. “What kind of comments?”
Harry quickly recounted the exchange, emphasizing the phrases "moonlight," "time of the month," and "dangerous creatures that need swift removal."
“He knows,” Harry finished, the panic returning in a cold wave. “He knows, and he was threatening me.”
Severus was silent for a long moment, his focus shifting from Harry to Pup, who was sitting at Harry’s side, looking back and forth between Harry and Severus.
“But Pup . . . Pup really helped.” Harry explained how the dog had positioned himself and snarled at Huntington. “He was acting like a bodyguard. Huntington backed off right away.”
Severus was visibly processing this information. He ran a hand down his face as he thought everything over.
“Well,” Severus said, his voice clipped and grudging. “I suppose the mangy mutt has proven useful. And useful things are granted small privileges. He saved you from a direct confrontation with an unpleasant man who holds a frightening amount of influence. I suppose he has earned an extra night’s stay, then.”
Harry grinned, relieved. “Thanks, Professor.”
“Do not thank me, Potter. Thank the dog,” Severus huffed, returning to his desk but not sitting down. “Now, the night is late. You have class in the morning, and I have a great deal of work to do, including discussing your latest encounter of Huntington with the headmaster. Let’s have some tea, then it’ll be time to settle yourself.”
Harry found himself sitting on the sofa with a mug of lavender tea, and he could fel his nerves calming as he slowly sipped it while listening to Severus talk about some of the errors he was correcting on an essay. When Harry began yawning, he left to shower and ready himself for bed, quickly changing into his sleep clothes. As he climbed into the four-poster bed, Pup quietly padded over and settled himself on the hearthrug, right next to the bed.
“You’re a good dog,” Harry whispered, reaching down to stroke his head.
Severus entered the room shortly after, and seeing the dog’s proprietary position, he sighed, then conjured a small, surprisingly soft-looking, circular dog bed next to Harry’s. Pup sniffed it, gave Severus another one of his smug looks, and promptly curled up in it.
“You may read for a half hour or so, but then it is lights out. Clear?”
“Yes, sir. Professor, when I transform,” Harry began tentatively. “Can Pup . . . can he stay with me? Like Flick?”
Pup lifted and tilted his head at that, while Severus shook his head.
“No, Potter,” he said flatly. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” Harry persisted. “Flick stays.”
“Do you want to traumatize the dog? No, he’ll be safe at Hagrid’s during that time.”
“He wouldn’t be traumatized,” Harry muttered, looking at the dog. “He’s really brave.”
“I’m sure. The answer is still no.”
Harry sighed, but moved off the subject. “Are we going to practice the Patronus charm again soon?”
“We could,” Severus said. “You are still no closer to being ready to produce a corporeal Patronus. We cannot afford to waste time chasing vague notions of happiness.”
Harry took a deep breath, clutching the edges of the blanket. He thought back to the panic in the hidden room, the shame of the confession, and the sudden, overwhelming security of the embrace Severus had given him. And though he had embarrassed himself a bit with his wolfish instincts, that memory was still strong and so very happy. That wasn't vague. It was concrete. It was real.
“I think I’ve figured it out,” Harry said, his voice quiet but certain.
Severus raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I’m going to try it tomorrow,” Harry affirmed. “It’s not just about meeting my friends or flying a broom. It has to be something that completely cancels out the feeling of being trapped and unwanted. It has to be the opposite of the Dursleys.”
Severus studied him, his eyes boring into Harry’s. The look was complex—part analysis, part caution, part a fragile spark of hope.
“That is the correct methodology,” Severus said, nodding slowly. “The memory must be an antidote to the despair, not merely a distraction from it. An anchor. What is the memory, Potter?”
Harry smiled faintly, looking from the sleeping dog at his bedside to the man standing guard at his bed. He couldn't articulate the complexity of the hug, the promise of safety, and the removal of the Dursleys in a way that wouldn’t sound pathetic or emotional, especially not to Severus.
“It’s a new one,” Harry simply said. “It’s about being safe. Really safe, for the first time.”
Severus understood the implication perfectly. He saw the genuine, tranquil confidence in the boy’s eyes—a look that had been missing since the nightmares began. He didn't press for details.
“Very well. Then tomorrow we begin in earnest,” Severus conceded, a flicker of what might have been approval crossing his features. “Do not permit that hope to wane, Potter. Cling to it.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“It is getting late. Remember, thirty minutes or so to do a light activity, reading, meditating, what have you, then lights out. Good night, Harry,” Severus murmured.
“Good night, sir.” When Severus stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, Harry decided he was more tired than anything else, and he rolled on to his side, snuggling into his pillow.
“And good night, Pup,” Harry whispered, resting his hand on the dog’s warm, thick fur. He closed his eyes, the scent of earth, herbs, and dog fur surrounding him, feeling a profound, unshakeable sense of security. Tomorrow, he would summon his true Patronus. Tomorrow, he would fight back.