Severus: A Portrait of the Potions Master as a Young Man

Severus: A Portrait of the Potions Master as a Young Man

By Daphne Dunham

Chapter 9: The Whomping Willow:

Or, Confirmation that Sirius Black is a Complete Git

* * * * *

It was during the first month of school some weeks later that Jane indicated that the feelings Severus had for her were mutual. They were studying Potions together in the library again; such had become their tradition since the night they'd prepared for the O.W.L. together last spring. While studying, they became embroiled in a debate about the quantity of Jobberknoll feathers used in the Rapid Recall Memory Potion. Consequentially, they resolved to consult the library's copy of Popular Potions for the Practical to settle their dispute, and both promptly headed over to the rather quiet and secluded Potions stacks to locate the volume. In their academic zeal, however, they reached for the book at the same time, and in doing so, Severus' hand brushed Jane's atop the binding of the book.

This wasn't the first time they'd made physical contact with one another, of course: they'd played together as children, after all, and there had been countless times their fingertips had met as they were passing one another shrivelfig or caterpillar legs in Potions class. This time, however, was different: the moment was charged with burgeoning adolescent sexual curiosity, and a heavy flush filled Severus' cheeks as he pulled awkwardly away.

"Sorry," he said quickly, only nervously raising his eyes to meet hers.

Such nervousness, Severus promptly discovered, was unnecessary. Jane had neither recoiled nor was looking upon him with revulsion. Instead, she stared intently at him, eyes wide and shimmering in the same foolish way he had observed James Potter looking after Lily Evans.

"M-may I kiss you, Severus?" Jane asked him softly.

She didn't wait for his reply, and perhaps this was just as well, for if she had waited, Severus would undoubtedly have replied with rejection, a defense mechanism born of a lifetime of being hurt. Instead, Jane wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and stood on tip-toe to reach his lips with her own. It took a moment of floundering with where to put his hands and how to stand, but Severus eventually returned her gesture. His kisses were given with somewhat less grace than hers, as his nose proved to be a bit of an obstacle for him to circumvent, but the sentiment was the same, and Jane didn't seem to mind. As they kissed, she took his hands in hers and guided them over the folds of her robes, taking him to explore parts of her body that he had previously only thought about in the privacy of his darkened bedroom at Dolfield.

And the real thing was definitely better than what Severus had imagined.

* * *

Some time later, Severus and Jane emerged from the privacy of the Hogwarts stacks with clothing slightly wrinkled and hair a bit rumpled. Needless to say, the exact proportions of Jobberknoll feathers in the Rapid Recall Memory Potion remained an enigma for the rest of the afternoon. Nonetheless, they had managed to escape the watchful eye of Madam Pince, and for that, they were grateful. Of course, it would have been better if they had managed to escape everyone's watchful eye, but as Severus headed back to the Slytherin common room afterwards, he quickly learned that such was not the case: he and Jane had been the victim of voyeurism after all - and the worst part was that the voyeurs were none other than those gits, James Potter and Sirius Black.

"I saw Snivellus snogging Jane Swizzle in the stacks," James snickered as Severus passed them in the corridor. "Can't see how he manages it with that big nose of his getting in the way."

"Jane's a nice girl - don't know what she's doing with a greasy git like Snivelly," Sirius added tauntingly.

Severus turned sharply to face them, a flush of fury suffusing his ordinarily pallid cheeks. "Sod off, or I'll hex you to Hades," he hissed, reaching for his wand at once and aiming it threateningly at James.

"You haven't got the bollocks, Snape," sneered James, who was quick to raise his wand menacingly as well. "Not after what happened after O.W.L.s last year."

The redness in Severus' face was renewed at the memory of the events following their D.A.D.A. O.W.L. He still hadn't recovered from the humiliation of it, and the fact that Florence Feather still mockingly inquired about the state of his underpants on a regular basis didn't help any.

"Why, you - you - " Severus sputtered in rage, flecks of spittle flying from his thin lips.

James and Sirius only chuckled, though. "Uh-oh, Sirius, ickle Snivellus is mad now," James laughed sarcastically. "If he doesn't calm down, I may be forced to curse his bits off."

"Oh, no, James - don't do that," Sirius said with feigned concern. "We wouldn't want to cause old Snivelly permanent damage - after all, next time he and Jane may fancy a shag in the stacks, and that's something we could charge admission to."

Instantly enraged, Severus opened his mouth to utter one of his infamously vicious and obscure curses when the distinct and sharp voice of Professor Cauderon suddenly cut through the air, commanding all their attention. The three boys whirled around simultaneously to find the Potions master standing sternly before them, a scowl bent on his otherwise handsome face.

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter," said Professor Cauderon acerbically. "I don't think that anything Severus Snape and Jane Swizzle do in the stacks is any of your business. Five points from Gryffindor for being excessively nosey."

Sirius and James exchanged infuriated scowls and groans of protest, for which Professor Cauderon deducted an additional five points from their house. Severus, however, returned to the Slytherin common room, unscathed and feeling quite pleased with the events of the evening: not only had he snogged Jane (for it really was snogging, despite how he detested James saying it), but James Potter and Sirius Black had gotten into trouble. Life didn't get much better than this for Severus Snape.

* * *

Having had his private moment in the stacks with Jane spoiled by the insensitive voyeurism of Sirius Black and James Potter, Severus Snape saw fit to return the favour to his enemies, and so he did with zeal. He grew increasingly keen to listen in on their conversations in the corridor if the opportunity presented itself, and he always kept an eye out for any suspicious activity, anxious to report illicit behavior to a prefect or - better yet - Professor McGonagall herself.

"Severus, I wish you wouldn't snoop," Jane implored him one evening. "It's just going to cause more trouble."

Jane was right, of course. Severus' determination to expose James Potter and Sirius Black for the mischief-making little prats they were was proving to be quite destructive: inevitably, Severus' investigations would result in the exchange of some rather nasty hexes between the boys. They never missed an opportunity to curse one another, it seemed, and their pranks more often than not resulted in the deduction of points from their houses, detentions, and - at least once a week - a visit to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey would have to sort out their enlarged teeth or the tail that had sprouted from their posterior.

And then one night, something occurred that made teeth and tails look like mere child's play. When it began, Severus was serving detention with Hagrid for having cast a supremely effective Bat-Bogey Hex at James Potter the previous day.

"Isn't it against school rules for me to be here?" Severus asked testily as Hagrid put him to work strewing bloodied carcasses around the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. What the purpose of these carcasses was, Severus didn't know, and so he eyed them with disgust as he dragged the gory animal remains from the heap by Hagrid's hut.

The gamekeeper chuckled good-naturedly at the young wizard's trademark impertinence. "Well, someone's gotta feed 'em," he replied, heaving a particularly large cow hide to the ground.

"Feed them? Feed what?" Severus spat.

Hagrid pointed to the ground, to the carcass he had just placed there, and Severus gasped as he noticed that pieces of it were somehow suddenly disappearing, being torn by some invisible object hovering over it. He staggered back in horror, unsure what to make of the scene, and he turned his pale countenance to Hagrid questioningly.

"Thestrals," Hagrid replied with a grin at seeing Severus' reaction. "Surely Professor Kettleburn's taught yeh all about 'em?"

Severus swallowed hard and shook his head. Thestrals. Despite the fact that the Care of Magical Creatures teacher hadn't taught them about the winged beasts yet, Severus had read plenty about them in one of his father's books. He'd seen sketches of their eerily skeletal forms, and he knew all about how Dark they were considered, how they were unlucky, and how one could only see them after first having seen death. Despite this, thestrals had always fascinated him, and Severus' eyes widened with sudden awe at the thought that he was in the presence of these forebidding animals.

"Nuthin' ter be scared of, yeh know," Hagrid assured Severus, mistaking the boy's interest for the more common reaction to the beasts. "They got a bad reputation's all. Gentle as can be, thestrals are."

"I'm not scared," Severus replied indignantly, insulted to have his virility challenged. "I like them."

The gamekeeper's kindly black eyes twinkled, and he noted with amusement how entranced Severus seemed by these creatures he couldn't even see. "I figured yeh would," he chuckled, stealing towards what Severus presumed was one of the beasts and running his hand affectionately along its back.

Hagrid looked rather foolish, of course, to Severus: stroking and fondling what appeared to be nothing but the thin air. However the boy had to admit he was intrigued by these dark and mysterious creatures, and so he stepped forward to examine the scene more closely.

"This one here's called Tenebrus," Hagrid told him, ushering towards the form that Severus, knowing the gamekeeper's affinity for the most beastly of beasts, assumed was probably the most ominous of the thestrals. "My favourite."

"Can I?" Severus asked, extending a hand towards the yet-invisible beast.

Hagrid smiled and stepped back so Severus could take his place stroking Tenebrus' side. "Beau'iful, ain't he?" he asked, his voice a little choked with emotion. Severus was quite positive that he saw a tear of affection on the gamekeeper's cheek glistening in the light of the full moon.

"I wish I could see him," Severus murmured with a slight nod of affirmation, tracing his hand along what he assumed was Tenebrus' mane.

Hagrid shook his head. "Don't yeh be sayin' that, now," he scolded gently as he carried on strewing carcasses for what Severus presumed was the rest of the herd.

Severus looked up as he ran his hand along Tenebrus' soft, velveteen neck. He was about to ask what tragedy the gamekeeper had witnessed that permitted him to view these winged beasts, but he hesitated as he was promptly distracted by a curious vision in the distance: two forms were making their way across the front lawn of the school, apparently headed towards the Whomping Willow. Severus squinted. If he wasn't mistaken, he believed he recognised the soft facial features of Madam Pomfrey and the sickly ones of a gangly teenaged boy - a teenaged boy who looked remarkably like Remus Lupin.

Severus' hand stilled on Tenebrus' mane, and his heart beat faster as he fixed his eyes on Lupin and the nurse. His mind raced with questions. He and Rodolphus had noted before that Lupin was frequently absent from class. Was it possible that this unusual occurrence was somehow related? But why? What was going on? Why would anyone go near that tree - that same tree that had nearly claimed Davy Gudgeon's eye just last year?!

"Sev'rus, hand me that pig carcass, will yeh?" Hagrid called from the distance, intruding upon the hook-nosed boy's train of thought.

Severus jolted at the mention of his name and reluctantly tore his eyes away from Lupin and Madam Pomfrey to do as the gamekeeper asked.

When he turned back, they were gone.

* * *

Lupin wasn't in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next day, Severus noted. Nor was he in Transfiguration, Potions, or - as he learned from Rodolphus at dinner that night - Divination.

"Apparently he's skiving off classes again," Rodolphus said with disgust. "Don't know why he gets away with it - just because he's a prefect, I suppose."

"He doesn't get away with it," Severus replied authoritatively. "The teachers know. In fact, they help him."

Rodolphus' eyes bulged at the revelation of this information, and Severus proceeded to relay the story of what he had seen while feeding thestrals with Hagrid the previous evening.

"I didn't know loony Lupin fancied Madam Pomfrey," Bellatrix Black snickered, tossing her dark hair over her shoulders haughtily as she slid into a seat beside Rodolphus. Rodolphus looked at her like the love-struck schoolboy he was, to which Bellatrix responded with annoyed amusement.

Nauseated by his cousin's rather noxious display of unrequited affection, Severus excused himself from the table a few moments later. He didn't think either Rodolphus or Bellatrix heard him, though, as they seemed too absorbed in their little flirtations over the treacle tarts and pumpkin juice. Severus didn't especially mind that Rodolphus had other matters on his mind, however. After all, he was due to meet Jane in the library to study for Potions himself, and so he gathered his books and made his way out of the Great Hall without complaint.

It was while Severus was walking a particularly desolate corridor that he heard footsteps in the distance. Startled, he instantly abandoned his books and instead whipped his wand from his robes.

"Who's there?" Severus called. "Show yourself."

Sirius Black emerged from around the corner, his cheeks flushed and slightly breathless as though he had been running. "My, my, my, Snivellus, you certainly are a paranoid little git, aren't you?" he chortled, tossing his head back arrogantly.

Severus glowered into the face of his enemy, his wand still raised suspiciously. "Not with your Gryffindors tonight, Black?" he spat. "Or are you taking a late night jaunt out to the Willow like Lupin?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he beheld the hook-nosed boy with a mixture of awe and horror. It seemed impossible to him, after all, that Severus could have stumbled across the secret that Lupin had been struggling to hide from the students of Hogwarts for nearly six years, and yet Severus' reference to the Willow had been unmistakable.

"Oh yes," Severus replied coolly, looking entirely too pleased with himself for having so evidently struck a nerve within his enemy. "I saw Lupin with Madam Pomfrey by the Willow last night. Detention can have its rewards after all, you know."

What, exactly, caused Sirius Black to do it, even he didn't know in retrospect. Perhaps it was because he'd finally had enough of Severus' blasted preoccupation with trying to get them into trouble. Perhaps it was because it was just too easy not to be tempted to do it. Regardless of the reason, Sirius replied with a smirk, "It's nothing special, Snape, if that's what you're thinking - just a shortcut - an underground tunnel that takes you right under the Willow and up to Gryffindor Tower. Find out yourself if you don't believe me."

"Find out myself?" Severus questioned with a skeptical smirk.

"Of course," Sirius shrugged, folding his arms across his chest confidently. "There's this knothole in the Willow, and all you have to do is use a long stick or something to poke at it, and it'll open up to a tunnel," he replied as though it was inherently obvious. "Simple as can be."

Severus hesitated, his eyes surveying the taller boy suspiciously. All he had to do was prod the knot hole in the Whomping Willow? It was too easy, too infantile. It had to be a trick. He'd learned a long time ago that Sirius Black bore nothing but malice towards him, and consequentially, he was reluctant to believe anything the latter said. With this in mind, Severus made up his mind: no amount of taunting was going to coax him to go near that bloody tree.

Sirius' eyes glinted wildly as he saw the hesitancy in Severus' face. "Oh, don't tell me you're scared, are you, Snivellus?"

"I'm not scared - just not dumb enough to fall for one of your stupid pranks," the hook-nosed boy retorted indignantly.

"A prank?" Sirius scoffed. "You really are as stupid as you are ugly, aren't you? I thought everyone knew about the knothole trick by now - James and I've been using it since second year. Even Davy Gudgeon figured it out, and he's as thick as a board. I thought you were smarter than that, Snivelly."

"Sod off, Black," Severus hissed, pushing past the Gryffindor and stalking down the corridor once again.

The problem was, Severus Snape was smarter than to fall for one of Sirius Black's cruel tricks; he did not, after all, have the mentality of Peter Pettigrew. In fact, Severus didn't believe a word Sirius said: nothing he had told him made sense. For instance, why would Madam Pomfrey go with Lupin to the tree? And why did no one else - despite Sirius' insistence - seem to know about the knothole? It was his quest for the answer to these burning questions which caused Severus to double back down the corridor, back past the Great Hall, and to slip out into the darkness of outdoors.

He had to prove to himself that Sirius Black had been trying to trick him.

* * *

The Whomping Willow looked particularly ominous in the brazen beams of the full moon. Its treacherous branches hovered in midair, poised for attack. Severus had heard what had happened to Davy Gudgeon last year, and, anxious not to duplicate the occurrence, he gave the ground a cursory glance, searching for a stick long enough to provide a suitable distance between himself and the malicious branches. Having found a suitable discard from the tree, Severus drew closer.

And then he saw it: the knothole Sirius had mentioned.

"Merlin's balls," Severus murmured with disbelief.

Stick extended, the hook-nosed boy approached with caution and prodded the knot, just as Sirius Black had instructed. The tree had stilled when Severus tapped the knothole with the stick. Not a leaf wavered, not a branch trembled. It was eerie, really, and a chill crept down Severus' spine as he approached the silent Whomping Willow. There was a gap in the roots, an opening wide enough for a person to slip inside. Stealing a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, Severus drew closer.

* * *

In the library, Jane glanced impatiently up at the clock hanging on the wall overhead. It was the ninth time she'd done so in about as many minutes, but she couldn't help it: it wasn't like Severus to be late - especially when it came to his studies.

"I don't like this, Lily," she whispered nervously to the auburn-haired girl sitting across from her. "Something's wrong."

Lily shrugged over the edge of her Transfiguration text. "He probably just lost track of time," she reassured.

Jane sighed, not knowing how to explain to Lily that Severus Snape was not one to lose track of time - that the only instances in which she had ever known him to be late were due to a violent run-in with his father. However, Jane was quite sure that this information was not something Severus would appreciate her sharing with the likes of Lily Evans, and so she just nodded dismissively and was about to turn back to her own Transfiguration text when a figure in the stacks caught her eye. He was a tall boy with glasses and shaggy, dark hair, and although he was clearly trying to be covert as he glanced in their direction around the bookshelves, he was doing a miserable job at it.

"He's lurking again," Jane informed her friend with a giggle.

Lily rolled her eyes and looked up just as the boy ducked behind the nearest row of books. "We know you're there, Potter," Lily said with an annoyed sigh. "Stop being so creepy and come out."

Unabashed, James Potter emerged from the shelter of the stacks, a debonair grin flashing on his white teeth. "Hello, ladies," he said, strutting towards them like an overgrown peacock.

"Are you ever going to leave me alone, Potter?" Lily groaned, shaking her head with disgust.

"Are you ever going to go out with me?" he replied quickly with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Lily looked positively exasperated and was about to decline James' advances for what must have been the fiftieth time since they'd arrived at Hogwarts when, as if on cue, Sirius Black burst towards them. There was a spring to his step that hadn't been there before, and he was struggling to conceal laughter. Indeed, he had the undeniable expression of someone who was quite pleased with himself. Lily, Jane, and James all exchanged perplexed glances, unsure what to think of Sirius' demeanor. It was James who spoke, though, vocalizing the question that all of them were wondering.

"What's going on, Sirius?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, just giving Snivellus Snape a taste of his own medicine," Sirius said smugly.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, her brow creased with curiosity.

"Let's just say that we won't have to worry about Snivelly snooping around anymore," he smirked.

"Why? What did you do to him?" Jane asked sharply, her fury instantly mounting at the childish pranks the two boys were always playing on each other. Something told her, however, that this prank was different from the others - he was getting more pleasure from it and being more secretive about the details than he had been with anything else he'd done.

Sirius, however, declined to answer and instead surrendered to the laughter he'd tried to suppress. He was so entertained by whatever trick he had just managed to play on Severus that he seemed very nearly delirious with enjoyment of it.

"What did you do, Sirius?" Jane asked more firmly, accentuating every syllable to stress its importance as she stood up indignantly at the table.

"Nothing much - I just made sure that Moony has a little company tonight," he replied breathlessly, his eyes glinting wildly.

James immediately paled, knowing instantly what Sirius had done. It was a prank the two of them had jokingly talked about playing on Severus. He hadn't known Sirius was ever actually going to go through with it. If successful, they would certainly be expelled from Hogwarts; if successful, they would likely be facing Azkaban.

"Sirius, tell me you didn't!" he gasped, clutching his friend by the shoulders and trying to shake sense into him.

Sirius only laughed all the harder, though, as James, his faced creased with panic, abandoned him and raced for the door.

"James, what's wrong?" Lily begged urgently as they watched him go.

"I can't explain - there isn't time!" James called over his shoulder.

* * *

"Lumos!" Severus whispered.

As to be expected, the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow was very dark, narrow and stuffy. It was only by the faint light of his wand that Severus was able to navigate it at all. The scent of damp earth filled Severus' nostrils as he walked. He wasn't sure where, exactly, he was heading, but he was fairly certain that, contrary to the assurances of Sirius Black, it was not towards Gryffindor Tower.

"I knew that shite-for-brains was lying!" he seethed.

A faint light glowing at the end of the tunnel caught his eye then, and Severus edged onward with curiosity. It seemed that he was nearly there - wherever there was, of course.

"Snape, get back here!" called a voice from behind him suddenly.

Severus whirled around, his dark hair swishing about his ears, to find himself nearly colliding with the muscular, spectacled form of James Potter. He stared at his nemesis with disdain.

"Sod off, Potter!" Severus hissed at once, raising his wand in preparation to hex his unwelcome visitor.

James stepped back and raised his hands in an act of surrender. "If there is any rational bone your body, you'll put that wand down!" he begged. "I'm not here to cause problems!"

"Like hell you aren't," Severus sneered, continuing to brandish his wand threateningly.

"Look, I don't know what Sirius told you, and there's no time to explain, but if we don't get out of here, there's going to be trouble," James urged, his eyes pleading.

"You bet there'll be trouble," Severus retorted. "I don't think Dumbledore will be too pleased when I tell him his favourite Gryffindor broke school rules, sneaking out after hours."

"Snape, we haven't got time for these games!" James yelled at him. "You can tell Dumbledore if you want - I'll tell him myself, but will you stop being such a git for once and trust me?! We've got to get out of here. Now!"

But it was too late. A bloodcurdling howl reverberated from the end of the tunnel. Severus raised his wand and jerked his head just in time to see the form of a wolf advancing on them - racing towards them with his teeth bared to kill, but as the wolf approached, Severus was consumed with a fleeting moment of recognition before the panic set in: It wasn't a wolf at all; the beast was a werewolf.

"Remus, no!" James shouted, pushing his way past Severus.

"Holy Hecate, it's Lupin!" Severus gasped, the horror of this revelation gripping him. It was the last thing he remembered thinking before James withdrew his wand.

"Petrificus Totalis!" the spectacled boy cried.

And Severus hit the ground.

* * *

When he woke up in the infirmary the next day, the first thing Severus Snape was conscious of was the throbbing in his head. He had been perfectly fine, of course, save the bump on his skull from where he'd hit the ground when Potter had Petrified him, and Madam Pomfrey awarded him a clean bill of health later that morning. Albus Dumbledore, though, was a completely different force to reckon with. The headmaster was not pleased to learn of the incident - neither of Sirius' provocation, nor of Severus' infringement on multiple school rules regarding curfew and the Whomping Willow. However, Dumbledore seemed even more concerned with the ramifications the prank held for Remus Lupin.

"Undoubtedly, Mr. Snape, you have worked out Mr. Lupin's secret, have you not?" asked the headmaster quietly as Severus sat in his office that afternoon awaiting judgment for his crimes.

"Yes, sir," Severus replied tersely. "He's a werewolf."

"Severus, I know that the admittance of werewolves to Hogwarts is not considered... er... conventional," Dumbledore continued. "But I must ask you to keep Remus Lupin's secret. The revelation of this detail could prove most destructive to his future, you know."

Severus opened his mouth to protest. Not reveal Lupin's secret? He was a bloody werewolf, for Merlin's sake?! He was a menace and a danger; he didn't deserve to be within a ten meter radius of this school, and what's more, Dumbledore knew it - he had broken trust with the parents of all the students under his care in allowing a werewolf among them. And now the headmaster was asking his student to lie - it was a lie of omission, granted, but it was a lie nonetheless. A wave of fury swept over Severus as he glared indignantly at the older wizard.

Seeing the reservations of the boy before him, Dumbledore hunched pensively over his desk and pressed the tips of his elegant, long fingers together. He peered expectantly at Severus over the rims of his half-moon spectacles.

"As I recall, Severus," the headmaster said weightily, cutting the silence with his gentle cadence, "you, too, were given a chance to study here that you would not have otherwise received if not for the bending of a few rules, were you not?"

Severus' mouth gaped. His throat felt suddenly dry, and he stared, speechless, at the headmaster. Severus knew very well that had his mother not lied under oath before the Wizengamot nine years ago in an effort to protect him, he would not have been able to attend Hogwarts either, and his future would have been just as bleak as Lupin's. Dumbledore, though, had broken the rules for Severus, just as he had broken them for Lupin. Indeed, they had reached a stalemate.

"Yes, sir," Severus reluctantly replied at last. "I won't tell."

"You're a wise young man, Severus," Dumbledore replied, easing back in his chair. His eyes glimmered, and he smiled warmly as he raised the candy dish that had been sitting on his desk and offered it in the direction of the younger wizard. "Sherbet lemon?"

* * *

It could have been worse, Severus realised as he left Dumbledore's office after a few sherbet lemons and a little small talk. The headmaster had been reluctant to award Severus any reprimand for the events of the previous evening, and he'd agreed to be as vague as possible in the letter he would send home to Darius explaining why his son was returning home for summer holidays nursing wounds. Of course, exactly how James Potter had saved Severus remained a mystery to him. He'd been Petrified, a state he was most furious about having been subjected to, and consequentially, the exact events were an enigma to him. When he'd questioned the headmaster, Dumbledore relayed some imprecise story - something about how after James after Petrified him, he'd dragged him from the tunnel before Lupin caught up with them. Severus, however, was not convinced regarding the authenticity of these facts, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he grew - angrier that James had saved his life, and angrier that he couldn't even remember it.

He would never forgive James Potter for either of these grievances.

* * * * *

A/N: Regarding Tenebrus, I'm assuming that thestrals have a fairly long life span, as we know most magical creatures typically do. Furthermore, what I imagine to have happened in the Willow is that James saved Severus by assuming his Animagus form in order to defend them against werewolf!Lupin. Since Snape doesn't seem to be aware that James/Sirius/Peter were Animagi in canon, I had no choice but to leave him unconscious for this scene and, later, ever-suspicious regarding what actually happened. Finally, thanks once again to Ozma for her amazing beta-reading!