The Snake Within

Chapter Six: Hesitation and Confusion

Had I even the slightest idea that the Headmaster was involved in Lupins' lycanthrophy, I would have felt the fool immediately when I confided in him my where about for the evening past. He just gave me a piercing glance and sighed as he sat down heavily in his chair.

"Severus. I know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

The shock overcame me and I exclaimed, "You must do something about him then! He's dangerous!" Confusion crossed the older mans face as I said this. He shook his head slowly and knitted his fingers.

"Severus, I knew Remus was a werewolf when I accepted him into the school. Now, don't be discouraged, I AM rather disappointed that Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black were in that tunnel along with him. If you don't mind me asking, why were YOU there, Mr. Snape?"

Internally I winced, when the Headmaster called you by your last name in your presence is was never a good thing. I opened and closed my mouth many times. Just like a blasted Gryffindor--caught in the act! I thought to myself. Finally the words came to me.

"Sirius Black told me that I would see something that would help in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I knew that breaking the rules was wrong though, and I'm sorry."

The room became dramatically silent for many moments, and I had no choice but to look around. A phoenix in the back of the office caught my eye, as Phoenix's are meant to do such. Something about the bird made my stomach turn. The way it trilled as its eyes met mine, the way that brought the Headmasters attention to it, and not me. He stroked it plumage carefully and sang to it softly. Secretly I hated that bird, and only because no one had ever treated ME as nicely as that bag of feathers was being treated.

When he finally realized I was still in the office, the Headmaster smiled at me and motioned me over.

"This is Fawkes. My faithful companion, I really don't even like calling him my pet, even if that the logical term." He cooed more to the bird than to me, and Fawkes gave me another piercing stare. A muscle in my cheek twitch, and that was about as close to a smile as I was going to give to something with a beak and talons.

"I'm going to have think about what to do about this situation, Severus. I'm sure that your Head of House will have something to say about the matter of you being out past curfew." Just as I was about to object, since that would have me hanging in the lowest dungeons for a week, the Headmaster put his hand up, "I will explain to him that you have reasonably paid your punishment already. Will that be sufficient, Severus?"

"What about the others, sir?"

"That will be their business, Severus. Now run along, I'm sure you are still hungry after all."

We parted with equal glances and I morosely made my back into the Dining Hall. The Four were not there, thank Merlin. As I sat down, Lucius shoved some kind of pudding in front of me and whispered conspiratorially, "Our fathers have done well for the Dark Lord recently."

I side glanced him and muttered an "And?"

"The Dark Lord wants us to come to him these holidays, to test our fitness for the role of Death Eater. Crabbe and Goyle are coming as well. As are Avery and Lestrange."

"So the whole group. You could have just said it that succinctly, Malfoy."

A queer grin played upon his face as he ate and stared at me like there truly could have been something in his twisted blonde head that I didn't know. "McNair has been at home for the last two days, did you know?"

"Potions. He blew up have the cauldrons." I rolled my eyes at the mere memory of that.

"It was the plan, Snape. The Dark Lord has already given him the Mark!"

I pushed away the bowl immediately and stared at him. "THE Mark?" He nodded reverently. To be marked was a great thing in our circle. It meant that the Dark Lord accepted you in his Highest Order. I'd never gotten the chance to clearly see The Mark on anyone; my father had tentatively hidden it from me. In some ways that was the only reason why I wanted one in my youth, was so I could stare at it long hours and admire its wealth of responsibility in the world. That I, one day, would be in the Dark Lords' league of Death Eaters, that I would be able to rid the world, in my own small way, of the unworthy and the filth. Perhaps that would even entail sending Potter and Black to Azkaban for being what THEY truly were. Pests.

The buzz around the table at the time was the narration of my thoughts. How wonderful it would be to join a stronger league than those opposed to the extinction of Muggle born creatures in this world. From the younger side of the table it was the same kind of conversation by it was toned down into the extinction of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this upcoming game. The vile taste in my mouth came up again, and it was only a coincidence that Malfoy happened to turn to me as I vomited. There was something deep down inside me (or at least there had been) that was protesting against all this contemptuous chatter. My body made the excuse for me to get away from it as quickly as possible, and not have Lucius Malfoy grab me to stop, as he was in complete and utter horror and was running to the laundry to change out his pristine uniform.

Panting unceremoniously as I reached the hospital wing, I tried to find the Head Nurse immediately to help me with something to settle my stomach. I knew it wasn't the initial problem, but I always stuck to the course that was directly in front of me. It wouldn't help to be caught lingering in the halls, as my own Head of House was out for my blood, as I was sure that Professor McGonagall would be as well. Her star Chaser and one of the Beaters were sure to be suspended from the team for putting other students in danger. The night's events were clouding my mind as Madam Pomfrey ushered me onto a cot.

She charmed a crude looking thermometer into my mouth, and there was no way I could spit it out. The mercury rose slowly and my eyes ached as they were crossed to watch. When a chime went off she rushed back to me and plucked the instrument from my mouth and looked at me intently.

"You most certainly have the Freckled Flu. No use sending you back. Lie Down Snape."

This was certainly the cap of the evening. I had the flu, I couldn't explain this to any of my counterparts in the dungeon, and my disappearance would be noticed by the slimiest of my friends. The one that would want reimbursement for cleaning of his silk scarves I'm sure. I lay down as the nurse prattled on about how the night would be dreadful for me, and that I must drink the serum so that the freckles wouldn't be nearly as red when they did appear. Somewhere a voice in my mind said that she probably enjoyed telling students they were in for the night of their lives every time they were injured or sick, but it passed silently in the night as the serum began to take affect.

A slight prickling in my skin marked the entrance of the freckles, and the laziness of my eyes marked the beginning of a fitful nights rest in the cold and sanitary hospital wing.