The Werewolf Prank

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Chapter Four: The Aftermath (Sirius)

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Sirius marched down the hall to Professor McGonagall's office and threw himself in a chair, fuming.

He couldn't believe it! Why was he getting in trouble when Snivellus was the one who had gone sneaking off school grounds in the middle of the night? It was completely unfair. Obviously Snivelly hadn't found anything else to get the Marauders expelled, so now he was just trying to get out of trouble by blaming the whole thing on Sirius. It was actually kind of funny that the greasy git was accusing him of attempted murder of all things -- he must have been really traumatized by his little encounter with Moony if that was the best he could do.

Good, thought Sirius, slumping lower in his chair. Maybe if Snape was scarred for life or something, it would be worth whatever trouble he was in now.

He picked moodily at the upholstered armrest, wondering when McGonagall was going to show up to shout at him some more. Several minutes passed and she did not turn up. A distinct sense of dread began to gnaw at his insides, though it wasn't the prospect of being in trouble that worried him, really....

He hadn't done anything wrong. All he'd done was tell Snivelly how to freeze the stupid Whomping Willow. So why, then, had James called him a Black? And why had James refused to look at him just now, when they were standing in the hall?

Sirius tried to tell himself that James was just being a pigheaded git, but it didn't work. James had never acted like this before -- it made no sense. James hated Snape, he should have been as happy as anyone if Snape had met with a little -- accident -- on full moon. But instead he risked his own life to stop it from happening. And now he was acting like -- like he really thought his best friend was a killer....

I'm not, Sirius thought forcefully. He was not a killer. He knew people who had killed -- he couldn't help it, he was related to them -- but he hated them, he wasn't like them. James knew he wasn't like them.

It wasn't like he had ever really meant for Snape to die. He would never have volunteered the information about the Willow in the first place if the slimeball hadn't gone sticking his ugly nose in other people's business. True, after he'd said it, he had sort of hoped Snivelly would listen to him and check it out ... but he had never really expected it, and so he hadn't spared much thought for what might happen after Snivelly got to the end of the tunnel....

Of course now that he thought about it, it seemed quite obvious what sort of damage a solitary werewolf in a confined space would do. He'd known it from the moment James tried to go after Snivellus, really. But in his mind, he'd only seen the rather docile werewolf he ran round with every month; he and James and never had much trouble keeping Remus off the occasional hapless drunken villager or two; it just hadn't seemed like that big a deal.

The more Sirius turned things over in his head, the worse they began to look. How was he supposed to explain to James, or anyone else for that matter, that he had not been trying to murder Snape? He knew he hadn't, he couldn't have been, because to murder someone you had to really mean it, really want the person dead -- that was just how it worked -- he could still remember his cousin Bellatrix explaining it to him when he was little. And yet something told him this logic was not likely to fly with James....

Sirius glanced helplessly at the door as a burning panic began to seize him once more. His mouth had gone dry. His friends would never speak to him again if they thought he had been trying to murder someone -- even if that someone was just Snivellus. He could already see them turning away from him, their faces set in that same stony expression he and Reg got whenever they passed each other in the halls. He also had enough experience being excised on principle at home to know that once they made up their minds about him, nothing he could say or do would be able to change that. At home this never mattered much, because he despised his family every bit as much as they despised him -- but the thought of his friends shutting him out like that too was unbearable.

Feeling utterly miserable now, Sirius realized that he was also sure to be kicked out of school if this was what people thought. He couldn't remember ever hearing of another Hogwarts student trying to murder someone. Not even the worst of the Slytherins. Not even Snape.

The sensation of being trapped in a bad dream had returned. He tried to picture himself arriving in the fire at Grimmauld Place, having to explain to his parents why he was back for good....

How? How had he managed to ruin his life like this? One tiny mistake -- one moment of thoughtless anger --

But it wasn't all his fault, Sirius reminded himself: if Snivellus hadn't landed them both in detention -- or been stupid enough to listen to him -- or lacked the common sense not to follow a secret passage hidden under a great murderous tree -- none of this would be happening.

Sirius suddenly felt torn. Half of him wanted desperately to go back in time and stop himself ever saying anything about the Willow; the other half wanted to storm over to the hospital wing and wring Snivelly's neck. He threw another glance at the door -- and nearly jumped out of his skin.

James was standing there watching him. Sirius swore under breath.

"Don't do that," he muttered, before remembering that James might never speak to him again.

James snorted. "Get up, we've got to go to Dumbledore's office," he said tonelessly.

Encouraged by the fact that at least James was speaking to him, Sirius got up and followed him into the hall.

"This is bad," James said as they started for the stairs.

"Look," said Sirius quietly, feeling the need to clear up one point first. "I wasn't trying to kill him -- you know that, right?" James sighed.

"Of course I know that. You lost your temper and didn't think," he said, rolling his eyes. "But we've got bigger problems."

"You shouldn't have had to go after him," Sirius continued, finding this lack of blame oddly unsettling. "You could have been killed." To his surprise, James actually broke into a smile.

"I'm not complaining," he said. "I think a little mortal peril every now and then breaks up the monotony nicely, wouldn't you say?"

Sirius grinned -- he could respect this. He also felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.

"Where'd McGonagall go?" he asked, as they headed up the stairs. "I thought for sure she'd be back to yell at me."

"Dunno," James shrugged. "She found me outside the hospital wing, told me to take you to Dumbledore's office, and walked off in the opposite direction. Probably gone to the staff room," he added thoughtfully. "Get herself a nice stiff drink -- some single malt Scotch firewhiskey, straight up --"

"Because she doesn't trust herself to deal with me," Sirius smirked knowingly. "Anyway," he continued a few moments later, "what are our bigger problems?"

"Snape, you dolt," said James. "He's dead sure we masterminded this whole plan just to kill him."

"We?"

"You and me -- and I wouldn't put it past him to drag Moony into it too."

"But you guys had nothing to do with it!" Sirius said indignantly.

"Yeah, well I couldn't exactly tell him that without giving you away," James said matter-of-factly. "And I guess he hasn't given up on trying to get all of us expelled. What did you say to him exactly?"

"Just that if you hit the knot on the side of the Willow, the whole thing freezes," said Sirius.

"That's it?"

"I may have recommended using a long stick," he added guiltily.

"Idiot," muttered James.

"I never thought he'd actually do it," Sirius protested.

"Anyway," James went on, sounding very businesslike. "Snivelly's none the wiser about our, um, extracurricular Transfiguration project" -- this was the code name they had used when studying to become Animagi -- "so I don't think we have to worry about that much. But I'm not sure how I'm going to explain --"

He stopped short. They had just rounded the corner to find several people standing in front of the Headmaster's office. Slughorn, the Potions master and head of Slytherin house, was the most prominent among these, dressed in a green velvet dressing gown and matching nightcap. If they hadn't been so worried about their imminent interview with Dumbledore, Sirius and James would have had a very hard time keeping their faces straight.

As they drew closer, they saw that Dumbledore, Snivelly, and Evans were also among those present. Sirius noticed a familiar glint in Evans's eye as she spotted them, which told him she was just itching to yell at someone. Unfortunately, James was too busy almost tripping over his own feet to catch it; his hand jumped to his hair as they joined the group, and he tried to flash her a winning smile just as she turned to leave. Sirius braced himself.

"How dare you?" she snarled, whirling back around. "You miserable worm, after whatever it was you did tonight, how can you actually have the nerve to stand there and --" she stopped and took a deep breath, trying calm herself -- with limited success. "Why? Why can't you just grow up and leave him alone?"

James goggled at her. Dumbledore, who had been watching the proceedings with his head bent slightly, looking like he almost wanted to smile, said, "If I may?"

"Sorry, Professor," said Evans hastily.

"Quite alright," said Dumbledore courteously. "I just wanted to mention that, if my suspicions are correct, Mr. Potter is actually responsible for saving Mr. Snape's life tonight."

It was Lily's turn to goggle at James, her cheeks turning slightly red.

"Oh," she said softly after a moment, "I'm sorry, James." She gave him a sort of half smile then turned and walked off, looking thoroughly confused.

"Thank you for your help tonight, Horace," Dumbledore was saying to Slughorn. "I shall contact you after I have had a chance to speak with these young gentlemen."

Slughorn grunted a goodnight, and James and Sirius followed Dumbledore up the moving stairs to the Head's office, with Snape bringing up the rear.

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Chapter Four: The Aftermath (Severus)

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"Madam Pomfrey?" asked Potter, announcing their presence as he opened the door to Hogwarts' infirmary.

The school matron bustled into the infirmary from the back room. Recognizing Potter, she placed her hands on her hips and smiled.

"Oh, it's you, is it, Potter?" she asked, as she walked over to a cabinet and started to place some items out of it into a large bowl. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

Potter sat down on the nearest bed and grinned at Pomfrey. Severus stepped inside as well, shooting a scowl at Potter.

"I see I have two patients," she observed. "You hurt your leg?"

"Sprained ankle," Severus responded.

She reached up and grabbed a bottle.

"Well, get your weight off of it, then!" she said tartly, waving him over to a nearby bed. "I'll see to you in just a moment."

"Here, drink this," she added, handing him the bottle.

Severus lowered himself onto the edge of the indicated bed, and screwed off the top. He eyed it with professional interest and sniffed it experimentally. A mixed potion, for certain, he judged. The main ingredient was a painkilling potion, but something about the smell ... he tested a drop of it and rolled it around on his tongue, indignation rising as he recognized the tang of a Calming Draught. He wasn't going to drink that! He was angry, not overwrought!

His hands trembled as he set the opened bottle down on the table beside the bed. The look on Black's face when they had met on the landing ... a joke, that's all it was to him. A funny prank. And what had Lily been doing there with Black, he wondered. More importantly, what lies had he told her? Severus imagined wrapping his hands around Black's neck and banging his ahead against a wall until that false expression he had assumed for Lily's benefit was wiped off his face.

Anyone would be angry, in his shoes, Severus thought hotly. Which reminded him ... he reached down to remove his shoe and sock. As he sat back up, he raised his leg up onto the bed. Madam Pomfrey was just closing up the last of Potter's gashes with her wand.

"That's the last of them," Madam Pomfrey commented. "How you manage to get into so many scrapes, I will never understand. But you're all set now. You might just want to wipe your face and hands before you leave," she finished, handing Potter the bowl, now filled with steaming water, and a cloth.

"Thank you," Potter replied with a grin, hastily sponging dried blood and dirt off with the offered cloth before handing it back.

"Well, I'll be off then," he said with a wave as he left. Madam Pomfrey waved back to him before she Vanished the dirty water and approached Severus.

She picked up the ankle and examined it, prodding a few spots with her wand. Then she moved the foot back and forth.

"Quite right. Mr. Snape, isn't it?" she remarked. "It is a sprain. As you'd the wit to diagnose the injury yourself, I wonder that you nonetheless found it necessary to run as far as Hogsmeade and back on it before coming to me."

He found himself unwillingly impressed with her professional competence, despite her fawning over Potter. That was rather precisely what he had done, but he did not feel like explaining the necessity of his actions to her. He'd save it for the Headmaster.

"I'll fix this in a trice," she said briskly. Her eye fell on the bottle, barely touched, on the table. "But you'll want to drink up, first."

"I don't need a Calming Draught," he stated indignantly.

"I see," she said, giving him a long, hard look. "Suit yourself."

Severus took a deep breath. After she was done, he would be leaving to state his case in front of the Headmaster. He had the facts on his side ... but still, it could not hurt to state his case logically and calmly.

Madam Pomfrey grasped the ankle more firmly. "Hold still, now."

He braced himself as she waved her wand and for a moment Severus's ankle felt as though it were on fire. He bit back a cry, and then gasped with shock, as it seemed his ankle was being doused in ice water. As she released his foot, he wiggled it around. It seemed back to normal.

"Well, it's healed now," she said with a smile.

The door opened, and Professor Slughorn stepped in. His substantial belly was wrapped in a green velvet dressing gown with silver fastenings, and a matching nightcap was perched on his head.

"Wonderful, Poppy!" he said with a smile. "I see you have put my student back to rights."

"Good evening, Professor," the matron responded politely, as she refilled the basin for Severus. He sponged off his hands and face and put on his sock and shoe.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Severus said as he rose from the bed. Slughorn hooked an arm around his and started to steer him out the door.

"Excellent work, Poppy. Boys will be boys, and Hogwarts is fortunate to have you to fix 'em up after, eh?" Professor Slughorn commented, before the door shut behind him. Severus reminded himself of his recent resolve. Calm.

"Minerva came by to tell me we're wanted at Professor Dumbledore's office, and fill me in," he said, guiding Severus down the hallway. It struck Severus suddenly how much taller he had grown than his Head of House. Somehow, he had never noticed it before, as he only ever saw the man while sitting in Potions class.

"Severus, Severus," Slughorn said with a theatrical sigh, "Merlin knows you are a clever student, you even give Miss Evans a run for her money in Potions."

"But let me give you a valuable piece of advice, my boy," Slughorn continued. "In life, what matters is not so much what you know, but whom you know."

Severus walked along with his Head of House in silence. He had no idea why the man had picked this of all times to lavish what seemed to be career advice on him. He wished Slughorn would just shut up, but could not say so.

"It seemed to me at first that you understood this," Slughorn continued after a bit. "Raised among Muggles, yet you were sorted into my House, Slytherin. As a first year, you did well enough, associating yourself with some older, better connected students."

A flash of memory rose up at those words. Bellatrix Black, laughing, amused by the effects of one of his spells on one of her followers. For a moment there, on the stairs, Black had seemed his cousin's spitting image.

"However, this business with Sirius Black ..." Slughorn shook his head.

Severus was thrown by the way his thoughts had seemed to be anticipated.

"Such a talented boy, also, just like you. Minerva raves about him, you know. And from one of the best pureblood families, too. I know you've had your differences in the past, but in your NEWT years, you're taking all the same classes. It would really make sense for you to bury the hatchet. I don't understand ..."

Slughorn stopped abruptly in front of a large gargoyle statue that decorated a stretch of wall in the corridor. Severus took the opportunity to jerk his arm free.

"Black tried to kill me, sir," he said, furious. "Why don't you save your peacemaking for him?"

"Licorice Snap!" Slughorn said. Severus started as the enormous statue suddenly moved out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase that rotated upwards like an escalator.

"My dear boy," Slughorn said placatingly, "I am merely trying to point out the advantages to you of such a course of action."

"Well, I have news for you. If what it takes to succeed is to grovel for the likes of Black, I would rather starve. Or -- or live as a Muggle," Severus spat out. "You can take your pureblood families, and your best class of people, and --"

"There is a lady present, Mr. Snape," said a dry voice above him. Severus spun around, to find the Headmaster, his face grave, descending the stairs, which were now moving downward, together with Lily. He snapped his mouth shut.

Lily was trying not to laugh; he could see the twinkle in her green eyes and the dimple that formed in her right cheek when she was amused. However, she kept quiet, as her eyes went from Slughorn to Severus and back.

"And that is no way to speak to your Head of House," Dumbledore added with a hint of a smile. Lily threw Severus a challenging glance.

"Yes, Headmaster. I apologize," Severus forced out for her benefit.

"Well, Miss Evans, I thank you for your assistance this evening. I trust that you will keep the night's events to yourself," Dumbledore said, as he and Lily reached the corridor.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Lily agreed earnestly.

As Severus and Slughorn stepped out of the way to let her pass, Potter and Black arrived. Potter leered at Lily as she turned to go. Severus itched to hex Potter where he stood, but was delighted when Lily spun to face him.

"How dare you?" she exclaimed. "You miserable worm, after whatever it was you did tonight, how can you actually have the nerve to stand there and --" she stopped and took a deep breath. "Why? Why can't you just grow up and leave him alone?"

"If I may?" said Dumbledore.

"Sorry, Professor," said Lily hastily.

"Quite alright," said Dumbledore courteously. "I just wanted to mention that, if my suspicions are correct, Mr. Potter is actually responsible for saving Mr. Snape's life tonight."

Severus bit back a protest. Calm, he reminded himself. He had not yet had his opportunity to speak with Dumbledore.

Lily stood frozen for a moment, staring at Potter, absorbing what the Headmaster had told her. Then her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Oh," she breathed. For a moment, she looked Potter straight in the eyes, then looked away in confusion. "I'm sorry," she said with a smile that lit up her face. She had never looked so beautiful, Severus thought, as she walked off towards Gryffindor Tower. Severus watched her retreating form with a sinking feeling, until she disappeared around the corner.

"... after I have had a chance to speak with these young gentlemen," Dumbledore was saying to Slughorn.

"Good night, Albus," Slughorn responded, and headed off towards his quarters. As Dumbledore stepped onto a stair, the entire staircase again began to rotate upwards. Potter and Black followed him. Taking a calming breath, Severus, too, stepped carefully onto a stair as it rose out of the floor.