The Werewolf Prank

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Chapter One: Detention with Pomona (Sirius)

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Sirius Black eyed the fanged geranium before him with a degree of contempt that would have made a lesser flower wilt. This flower, however, just sat there indifferently, as if to say it wasn't its fault he was freezing his backside off in greenhouse three instead of cozying up to Miss Gertrude Banks over Charms homework in the library. And it was right, the blame for that lay entirely with the greasy cockroach stationed at the far end of the table.

The greasy cockroach chose that moment to give a loud, purposeful cough -- making both Sirius and Professor Sprout look up.

"Stop dilly-dallying and get to work, Mr. Black," said Sprout, her eyes narrowing at him over the tops of the shrivelfig pots she'd been rearranging. "You'll want to finish these and get going on the chomping cabbages before it gets too dark outside."

Sirius wanted no such thing, but muttered, "Yes, Professor," and slowly donned his dragonhide gloves. He waited until her back was turned to throw a dirty look at Snivelly -- who smirked ostentatiously -- then got down to work.

Repotting fanged flora, as it turned out, did nothing to improve his mood. Not only was he stuck in a detention that for once he hadn't even earned, but he was there because Snivellus had tried to curse his best friend when James's back was turned. The thought alone made Sirius thrust his flower too hard into its pot, snapping the stem.

It had happened as they were leaving Herbology that morning -- the second time that week Snivelly had tried something like that -- and it was lucky Sirius noticed in time, or Prongs would probably have been in the hospital wing right then. Snivellus was not only cowardly enough to attack people when they weren't looking, he was also very well-versed in Dark curses.

But Sprout could not have cared less, insisting that spellcasting was forbidden in the greenhouses no matter who started it, and throwing Sirius in detention right alongside Snape. And Hufflepuffs were supposed to be fair.

Sirius snatched up another flower bulb and dropped it in a new pot, reminding himself that at least it was better him in detention than Prongs this time. Saturday was the big Gryffindor-Slytherin match, and whoever won would be in the lead for the Quidditch Cup that year. Prongs was Gryffindor's best Chaser -- other teams' Keepers seemed genuinely afraid of him -- and had been on his best behavior all week, as he could not afford to get thrown out the match. But Slytherins always played dirty before big games, and Snivelly in particular had always been jealous of James's Quidditch prowess. Sirius strongly suspected that this was the motivation behind his latest attack.

Still, he would have much preferred to spend the afternoon elsewhere, as he was certain the lovely Miss Banks would be dropping that coy act she'd been using with him any day now. She had to, he was irresistible.

Not Miss Banks, Sirius corrected himself, grinning despite his otherwise lousy mood -- Lady Banks....

His latest love interest was the daughter of Muggle nobility, and it had amused him to no end to learn there were hordes of Muggles running around calling themselves Lord This and Lord That. He'd only known one Lord Anything before she brought this to his attention... though the Muggle Lords, as far as he could tell, didn't have followers and such -- just noble and most ancient families with lots of money....

Sirius rolled his eyes and patted down some potting soil with his trowel. He wasn't allowed to tease about this anymore, or Banks had vowed to hex him to next Tuesday.

For a while, he occupied himself with pleasant daydreams of other things he would certainly not have been allowed to do had he actually spent the afternoon in her company. He was finally jolted back to reality by the jarring screech of chair on floor, followed by the even more jarring sight of Snivelly leering at his unfinished flowers as he approached Professor Sprout.

Sirius closed his eyes and tried to bring back the mental image of Banks, with her cute button nose and her soft silken curls -- but it was no use. It had been firmly replaced by that of Snivellus, with his great hooked beak and his unbelievably oily tresses....

"Professor Sprout, what is it you need me to do with the chomping cabbages?" he heard Snivelly asking smugly.

"Finished already, Mr. Snape? Good work!" Sirius opened his eyes and reached for another geranium, thinking he might be sick.

"I am afraid the cabbages are definitely a two-man job though. With your help I am sure we can get Mr. Black's geraniums squared away quickly as well, and then you can both get to work on the cabbages."

Sirius froze, feeling as though Sprout had just announced his forced collaboration with a blast-ended skrewt, and the plant he was holding seized the opportunity to sink its fangs into his finger. He tore it off, swearing under his breath, and flung the pieces discreetly into the nearest flower bed.

Snivelly turned, looking somewhat disappointed, and walked back to the table. His greasy curtains of hair swung dangerously close as he drew up right next to Sirius.

"Stand back!" Sirius yelped softly, putting some distance between himself and Snape, and eyeing the positively revolting quantities of dandruff coating Snape's robes. "Godric," he muttered, "how can anyone stand being so foul?"

Snivelly blinked, and for an instant looked as though he might have had the decency to be ashamed of himself. But the next moment he reached for a flowerpot and deliberately brushed Sirius along the way.

"If you can't stand it, leave," Snape said quietly, baring his teeth in a horrible semblance of a smile. He straightened up, installing himself at the end of the table so he and Sirius were elbow to elbow.

"Watch it, Snivelly," Sirius warned, hastening to the other side of the table. "You don't want to find out what happens to greasy gits who --" He trailed off, unable to think of the right end to that sentence, but hoped he looked sufficiently menacing. He had at least an hour before he could get to a change of robes.

Snape finished repotting one plant and reached for another, his cold black eyes glittering malevolently. "You think you can do anything, you and Potter," he said quietly. "But you don't own the school."

"Gentlemen, a bit less chit-chat please," Sprout called impatiently before Sirius could ask what that was supposed to mean. He and Snivelly had to settle for shooting each other looks of intense mutual dislike.

When the geraniums were done, Sprout told them to dress for outside, as they would be spending the rest of detention planting her new winter-hardy Tibetan Chomping Cabbages. Sirius found and fastened his heavy winter cloak, and looked up to find Snape staring at it in amused disbelief. He glanced down but could see nothing wrong, save for a few loose threads where he'd removed the serpentine emblem of Mother's favorite robemakers.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"Oh, nothing," said Snape softly, yet looking for all the world as though it were Sirius and not he dressed in a dirty, ill-fitting garment that undercover Ministry workers might pair with thigh-high rubber boots.

Sirius was about to say something to this effect when Sprout turned up in furry earmuffs and marched them out the door. She showed them the row of stakes where they were to dig holes, and then led them to another greenhouse where the cabbages were being kept.

"All right, boys, get to it," she said briskly, hanging her cape and earmuffs up on a peg. "I'll be in here preparing some ingredients for Professor Slughorn, so I'll have my eye on you. No slacking and no magic."

Snivelly grabbed a shovel and darted outside, so that Professor Sprout gave Sirius the job of carting cabbages out of the greenhouse one by one; apparently this species was cannibalistic. It was tedious but he was in no hurry to finish, as Snape appeared to be having a worse time with the digging and kept shooting him resentful looks as he moved with deliberate slowness. Eventually, though, he had no choice but to grab a shovel and start digging at the far end of the row. Snivelly seemed to decide the best punishment would be placing himself in close proximity to Sirius, and quietly walked over to an adjacent hole.

For a while they both worked in silence, too cold and eager to get back inside to pay each other much attention. But they were only halfway through when dusk began to fall, and Sirius wondered if Professor Sprout really meant to keep them there until they finished. He was sweating despite the fact that he could see his breath coming out in icy white puffs. His fingers were stiff, his whole body had started to ache with exhaustion, and the only thoughts that remained on his mind were a long shower and a hot meal.

Then, as he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, Sirius caught sight of two silhouetted figures emerging from the castle. He recognized one immediately, and grinned to himself as they set off across the snow-covered grounds. With all the distractions of the past couple hours, he'd nearly forgot it was full moon, the first since they'd got back from winter holidays.

Maybe the day wouldn't be a total waste after all. There was an abandoned farmhouse they'd discovered on the outskirts of Hogsmeade before Christmas that Sirius was particularly keen to go back and explore: He'd bet James ten galleons it was haunted by the ghosts of a local family said to have been murdered in their sleep thirty years ago.

"Well, well," said a soft voice behind him, causing Sirius to spin around. With a horrible sinking feeling he saw that Snape, too, was watching the figures make their way across the grounds.

"Well what?" he demanded. For a moment Snape eyes flicked to him, and there was an almost hungry gleam in them that Sirius found highly disconcerting.

"The Perfect Prefect disappears mysteriously into the night, once again," Snape said softly, a slight smirk playing across his sallow features.

"Mind your own business, Snivelly," Sirius snapped, turning quickly back to the cabbages. He wanted very much to get off this subject, as Snivelly's apparent interest in it could mean nothing good. "And get back to work, I want to go inside," he added hopefully.

But for once, Snape seemed to have forgotten all about work. "You know, so many people wonder where he goes all the time," he continued quietly, still staring off toward the distant Willow. "There are many theories, of course, but..."

Sirius didn't respond, instead giving his shovel a few angry kicks into the frozen soil and praying that if he didn't say anything Snivelly would just drop it. It was hard enough keeping Moony's secret without nosey gits like Snape taking an interest....

"Where do you suppose he goes?" Snape said at last, turning to look at Sirius more closely.

"Sorry, couldn't tell you," Sirius answered loudly, tossing aside a shovelful of dirt and trying to ignore the growing knot of unease in his stomach. Snivellus was clearly enjoying himself. Too much.

"Oh, but I think you could," he whispered, pausing for effect. "Or is it just a coincidence that the rest of your little group always sneak out of the castle after him?"

Sirius's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch, like the floor had just fallen out from under him. The shovel slipped from his fingers and hit the ground with a thud as he whirled around to face Snape.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said through clenched teeth, but the triumphant sneer that met these words told him it was no good.

Sirius felt a mixture of panic and anger rising up in him. He wanted nothing more than to curse the smirk right off Snivelly's face, and even reached for his pocket before remembering Professor Sprout had confiscated their wands.

Sprout now emerged from the nearest greenhouse wielding a pair of enormous hedge clippers. "Is anything the matter, boys?" she called out. Sirius tore his eyes from Snape and slowly shook his head no; she pursed her lips and set to work pruning some dangerous-looking shrubbery nearby.

His insides still boiling, Sirius picked up his shovel and resumed stabbing at the rock-hard dirt with it.

So Snivellus had been following them around -- no doubt looking for reasons to get them expelled. It should hardly have been a surprise, he'd had it in for James the moment he laid eyes on him, but... had the Marauders really been so careless? They never went out without the Invisibility Cloak....

Sirius tried to recall the penalties set by the Ministry for illegal Animagi, but it had been almost four years since they'd looked them up. At the very least there would be a stiff fine, more money than he himself had access to.

He wondered if his parents would bother to spring him. They'd sprung Reg last summer, for involvement in a Muggle-beating, but Sirius rather doubted he'd get the same treatment.

Not that it mattered -- they were all underage and sure to get expelled for sneaking off school grounds and setting a werewolf loose each month. And somehow, getting turned out from Hogwarts sounded far worse to Sirius than anything else the Ministry might do to them.

He stole a sideways glance at Snape, who was working a little slower than before.

Surely Snivelly couldn't know anything about their being Animagi, Sirius reasoned, or he would have wasted no time alerting school and Ministry authorities. But he might start to figure things out if he kept snooping around, and they couldn't afford to take that chance. Unfortunately, Sirius sensed he had about as much hope of curbing Snape's interest as stopping a runaway train.

His suspicions were confirmed when Professor Sprout puttered back inside a few minutes later and Snivellus straightened up, stretching slowly and yawning deliberately. "You're not... afraid... I'll find out what you get up to, are you?" he asked, and there was an unmistakable note of smugness in his voice.

Sirius was sorely tempted to hit Snivelly, but thought better of it and restrained himself. "Actually, the possibility you might drip grease on me is of far greater concern," he said coolly, taking a step away and digging with renewed vigor.

"Oh, you just wait, Black," said Snape. "I know you and Potter are up to something, and I will find proof of your," he seemed to lay a delicate stress on the word, "illegal activities, I assure you."

Sirius found himself almost shaking with fury, and stared determinedly at the ground in front of him, fighting the urge now to swing his shovel at Snivelly's head. He could feel, rather than see, the hated face sneering down at him in the rapidly fading light, and for a moment almost wished Snape would find out: He could just see the look on old Snivelly's face on finding himself in the company of a fully-grown, rampaging werewolf. Actually, the image was rather cathartic....

Sirius stiffened slightly, struck by a sudden bolt of inspiration.

Of course, it was perfect! Why hadn't he thought of it before? If Snivellus wanted so badly to find out where the Marauders went on full moon, what could possibly serve him better than, well... Finding Out?

"You want proof we're sneaking out?" he said quietly, turning to face Snape and trying to keep the sudden, growing excitement out of his voice. "There's a big knot on the side of the tree, and if you just prod it the whole thing freezes. Anyone can get in." He paused. "I recommend using a long stick," he added, his heart beating very fast as he wondered whether there was any hope of Snivelly believing him.

Snape must have been caught off guard at least, because at these words he too had gone oddly still. For a moment his face was quite inscrutable, then he snorted loudly.

"Oh, of course," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "On your word, I'm going to approach a dangerous Whomping Willow and start poking it. It won't mind in the least." He gave a derisive little laugh. "If you think I'd believe such a story, you are even more boneheaded than I had thought."

Sirius shrugged and calmly reached for a cabbage, sure Snivellus was more intrigued than he was willing to let on.

Either way it was a good plan. If they were lucky, the greasy git would be curious enough to try it and get what was coming to him. If not, at least he'd remain none the wiser about the Marauders and their monthly excursions.

Sirius gave himself a mental pat on the back for a threat well-neutralized, and spent the rest of the detention working in silence, chilled to the bone yet feeling strangely upbeat.

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Chapter One: Detention with Pomona (Severus)

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Severus Snape suppressed a yelp as the fanged geranium he had just pulled out of its pot sunk its fangs into his forearm. He reached for it with his gloved right hand, then realized the stiff material would not permit him to handle the blasted flower without damaging it. Pulling the glove off with his teeth, he gently detached the fanged flower from his left arm before placing its little root ball into a larger pot. As Severus poured some loose soil into the pot, careful to avoid the snapping fangs of the angry flower, he looked furtively at the far end of the table to see whether his companion had noticed his predicament. He would hate to have given Black that satisfaction.

No, of course not, Severus thought, his lip curling. Black somehow managed to slouch elegantly against the battered old worktable while regarding the flower in front of him with a look of aristocratic hauteur that would doubtless have set a roomful of Gryffindor girls to giggling. Too busy practicing the pose to do any actual work, not that this surprised Severus in the slightest. Perhaps he could do something about that, though, he thought with a smile. Dropping his glove, he coughed loudly.

"Stop dilly-dallying and get to work, Mr. Black," said Professor Sprout, frowning at him over the shrivelfig pots she'd been rearranging. "You'll want to finish these and get going on the chomping cabbages before it gets too dark outside."

As she turned back to her pots, Black shot him a dirty look. Severus smirked back ostentatiously and reached for the next flower.

Working methodically through his bunch of flowers, though a bit more carefully than before, Severus reflected that Professor Sprout was living up to her House's reputation for fairness. Black had tried to talk his way out of this detention, but she had simply informed him that there was no spellcasting in the greenhouses, and that was that. Apparently, there was one female in the school immune to Black's charms....

Severus's face heated as he remembered the incident that had landed them both in detention. He thought he had timed the hex on Potter perfectly, only to have it fly wide and nearly break one of the glass panes of the ceiling as Black's spell had hit him. Of all the moments pretty boy Black had to pick to glance over at him....

Severus almost wished this senseless detention would last past curfew. He was not going to get any sympathy back in the dormitory. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match was Saturday, and not only had he failed with the hex, he had not even managed to get Potter into trouble. Why had he let Quigley and the others talk him into trying? Quidditch players. Severus shook his head and reached for another flower. At least Lily -- who frowned on unprovoked hexing of any sort -- had already left the greenhouse when it happened... that was another conversation he was not looking forward to.

Lost in his thoughts, Severus reached for the next flower only to discover that he had finished repotting all of them. He stacked the now-empty smaller pots neatly and placed them near others of their size on one of the shelves lining the greenhouse. Then he swept past Black, eyeing his group of remaining flowers with a contemptuous sneer.

"Professor Sprout, what is it you need me to do with the chomping cabbages?" Severus asked as he stood in front of her table. Professor Sprout looked up from the shrivelfigs.

"Finished already, Mr. Snape?" she asked, tucking a flyaway gray hair behind her ear and smiling at Severus. "Good work! I am afraid the cabbages are definitely a two-man job, though. With your help I am sure we can get Mr. Black's geraniums squared away quickly as well, and then you can both get to work on the cabbages." Severus bit back an indignant retort.

"Yes, Ma'am," he mumbled, and returned to the worktable.

As he took his place next to Black and reached for one of the remaining geraniums, Black jumped away from him

"Stand back!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Godric," he muttered, eyeing Severus with distaste, "how can anyone stand being so foul?"

Breaking pretty boy's nose with the geranium pot was, sadly, not a practical response. Instead, Severus reached further to get an empty pot for his flower, making sure he brushed Black as he did so.

"If you can't stand it, leave," he suggested quietly, baring his teeth in a horrible semblance of a smile. He installed himself near the end of the table, ensuring he and Black would have to work elbow to elbow.

"Watch it, Snivelly," Black spat, as he hurried away to the other side of the table, across from Severus. "You don't want to find out what happens to greasy gits who --" He trailed off, seemingly unable to find words for what it was, precisely, that he wished Severus not to do, though his face expressed his dislike eloquently.

Severus repotted a plant, and reached for another.

"You think you can do anything, you and Potter, but you don't own the school," he hissed at Black, as he lifted the flower gently out of its pot.

"Gentlemen, a bit less chit-chat, please," Professor Sprout called impatiently from behind her desk. Severus had to content himself with a sneer in response to the angry look Black shot him across the table.

As the fanged geraniums remaining on Black's end of the table dwindled to none, Professor Sprout told them to dress for outside. They would be spending the rest of detention planting her new winter-hardy Tibetan Chomping Cabbages.

Severus tucked the scarf his mother had knitted him in green and grey stripes around his neck before donning the old peacoat of his father's. It was now more grey than black, and the sleeves needed to be folded back, but it kept out the cold, some. Pretty boy, he saw, had brought his fine, black cashmere cloak to wear. He knew from Slytherin Common Room chatter that it was one of a pair that had been hand-tailored for him and Regulus. Just the thing to wear for digging holes in the ground.

"What?" asked Black, a look of annoyance on his face as he noticed the eyebrow Severus had raised incredulously.

"Oh, nothing," Severus replied quietly. He could guess what Black might have to say about his attire, were the subject to come under discussion.

Professor Sprout, her ears covered in furry earmuffs, threw on a cloak and led the boys outside. She showed them a row of stakes where they were to dig holes, and led them to another greenhouse where the cabbages were being kept.

"All right, boys, get to it," she said briskly, hanging her cape up on a peg with her earmuffs. "I'll be in here preparing some ingredients for Professor Slughorn, so I'll have my eye on you. No slacking, and no magic."

Severus looked at Black, who was gazing cluelessly around the room. Snorting quietly, Severus located the tool rack and walked over to pick out a spade. Black had also started to walk over, then stopped as he noticed Severus, looking at the cabbages, then at him, in turn. Professor Sprout rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Snape, get out there and start digging," she snapped. "Mr. Black, grab that barrow, and start moving the cabbages outside. One at a time, mind, this species is cannibalistic. Once you have them all moved, grab a spade and join Mr. Snape."

Severus stepped outside into the damp cold again, and walked over to start on his task. He was soon puffing and sweating with exertion, since the frozen ground was hard. Occasionally, Black would show up and place a head of cabbage near its intended resting place. Severus could see he was deliberately moving as slowly as he could. No Muggle digging in the ground for him, hah. Severus sincerely hoped the carnivorous cabbages had a taste for pure Wizarding blood.

However much Black might malinger though, moving cabbages took less time than digging holes in frozen earth, so the time came when Black, too, came out with a spade. He started digging at the far end of the row, naturally. With a curl of his lip, Severus straightened and walked over to start digging the adjacent hole to Black's, with renewed energy.

They worked in silence for a while. Severus was beginning to regret his lack of gloves. As the shadows lengthened, a cold wind picked up. His face was raw, and his hands were becoming numb. He stabbed his spade into the hole he had been digging and brought his hands to his mouth to warm them. As he stood, he saw a pair of figures emerging from the castle and setting out across the grounds. It was the school's matron, Madam Pomfrey, accompanying, of all people, Remus Lupin, Black's crony and a Gryffindor prefect.

Black, he saw, had stopped digging as well, and was watching his friend with a smile. "Well, well," Severus said in a soft voice. Black whirled around, fixing him with an angry glare.

"Well what?" he demanded. He seemed tense.

"The Perfect Prefect disappears mysteriously into the night, once again," Severus said with a curl of his lip.

"Mind your own business, Snivelly," snapped Black, quickly turning back to the cabbages. "And get back to work, I want to go inside."

He must want very much to get off the subject, Severus thought, if it inspired him to return to digging. The opportunity to, at the very least, annoy Black further was not to be missed.

"You know, so many people wonder where he goes all the time," he continued quietly, staring off toward the distant Whomping Willow, where the figures appeared to be headed. "There are many theories, of course, but..." Black didn't respond. Severus got the distinct impression though, as Black gave his shovel a few angry kicks into the frozen soil, that Black was working very hard to direct his anger elsewhere.

"Where do you suppose he goes?" Severus persisted, turning to watch Black's response closely. "Sorry, couldn't tell you," Black answered loudly, tossing aside a shovelful of dirt.

"Oh, but I think you could," Severus whispered. Black kept digging without looking up, but Severus was certain he had heard.

It was time for a little bluff. He thought he has seen Black, Potter, and Pettigrew sneaking out one night before Christmas, though he had not been able to determine whether Lupin was absent with Madam Pomfrey, or for other reasons.

"Or is it just a coincidence that the rest of your little group always sneak out of the castle after him?" Severus added. The shovel slipped from Black's fingers and fell to the ground with a thud as he whirled around to face Severus. Severus smiled triumphantly. Black's reaction, and the dropping of the shovel, announced more clearly than any spoken affirmation could that his bluff had hit the target squarely.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Black said through clenched teeth. It was a game attempt at denial, but Severus was not fooled. He leaned casually on his spade and fixed his dark eyes on Black.

"Is anything the matter, boys?" Sprout called, emerging from the nearest greenhouse with a pair of enormous hedge clippers. Black shook his head; Snape resumed his digging, keeping an eye on Sprout as she walked off to trim some dangerous-looking shrubbery.

So, what had he learned? There was definitely something about Lupin's disappearances and the others' nocturnal activities that was making Black nervous. But what?

Well, the way to find out seemed clear. The line of questioning that had been interrupted by the inopportune arrival of Professor Sprout had clearly gotten under Black's skin. As she disappeared back into the greenhouse, Severus resolved to see if Black was still nervous.

Straightening for a moment and stretching his back, Severus yawned and then said lazily, "You're not... afraid... I'll find out what you get up to, are you?"

Black's grey eyes flashed, his fists clenching as he regarded Severus with a cold fury. Severus recognized the signs from his years in Muggle elementary. His logical side was telling him he did not want to engage the taller and heavier Black in a Muggle duel, but at the same time he longed to land a punch or two. If he could hurt Black... it would be worth what might come after. But Black, apparently, managed to control himself.

"Actually, the possibility that you might drip grease on me is of far greater concern," he said coolly, taking a step away and digging with renewed vigor.

Severus was not going to let Black off that easily. "Oh, you just wait, Black," he said calmly. "I know you and Potter are up to something, and I will find proof of your illegal activities, I assure you."

Black's arms twitched on the handle of his shovel, as he stopped for a moment, staring at the ground in front of him. Severus's eyes narrowed as he watched Black carefully, newly cognizant that his adversary was holding a dangerous weapon. Black's face, turned away from the rapidly fading light of the setting sun, could not be made out, but Severus could almost feel the anger boiling off him. Then Black stiffened slightly, and Severus fought an urge to step back out of reach of the shovel. But Black only turned his head and gave Severus an appraising sort of look.

"You want proof we're sneaking out?" he said in a low voice. "There's a big knot on the side of the tree, and if you just prod it the whole thing freezes. Anyone can get in." He paused. "I recommend using a long stick."

There was a moment of tense silence as Severus considered what had just happened. Had his persistent needling of Black actually roused in him such unreasoning anger that he had let something slip? More likely, this was just a stupid attempt to induce him to approach the tree and make a fool of himself. He snorted loudly.

"Oh, of course," Severus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "On your word, I'm going to approach a dangerous Whomping Willow and start poking it. It won't mind in the least." He gave a derisive little laugh. "If you think I'd believe such a story, you are even more boneheaded than I had thought."

Black shrugged and calmly reached for a cabbage, apparently having said all he was going to on this subject.

Throughout the remainder of the detention, Severus considered what Black had told him. He had seemed much calmer, after he blurted out the supposed secret. Surely he did not believe Severus stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick?

It occurred to Severus that it would be a very clever way to hide the truth, presenting it in a context in which it was certain to be disbelieved. Perhaps it would be worth checking out, carefully of course. But not tonight, Severus told himself. Even if Black's story were true, it seemed from his earlier reactions that he and the others had plans to join Lupin. If those plans somehow involved the Willow, as Black suggested, he could be walking straight into an ambush.

No, the thing to do was to inspect the Willow on some future night, a night when Black and Potter were busy with something else. If Black was simply lying to make a fool of him, he would find this out, carefully, and no one need ever know. And if there were some truth to his claims -- then Severus would see the effect of poking the mysterious knot on the tree, and it might provide a clue to the information he was truly after.