Severus Snape was a gutter rat rescued from the London slums by Harry Potter's great-grandmother. Years later, he writes a letter to Harry explaining not only his past, but also of Harry's family history and heritage.
Chapter 09
Posted:
06/22/2002
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448
Author's Note:
Author's notes: I would like to say this follows the canon, but sometimes it meshes, so it would be safer for me to say this is an Alternative Universe of Severus Snape's past. Due to the obscurity of Snape's past, I took a great deal of artisical liberty, but I still like to think that Snape is canonly in-character. If not, I blame it entirely on his past. Or something. (To be read thinking that everything you ever learned in OotP does not exist.)
Do you know why so few people speak of your family, even to mention James and Lily? It is because the Ministry of Magic placed a ban upon all mention of the Potter family beyond James. I do not truly know why though. There was a rumour Pandora betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort, but of course no one could explain where Sirius fit in if that was so. Perhaps the Ministry was ashamed that Pandora would break her vows to fight Voldemort, and was killed for it. Perhaps Lucius pushed for the ban. When true heroes are forgotten, the common enemy becomes much more frightening. Pandora's children were rarely mentioned anywhere even when she was still alive and Francis, because he was Muggleborn and the Ministry feared to anger Voldemort and his Death Eaters more than what they deemed necessary, was struck from the records books for all of his discoveries.
When you can, please rectify this. It is not right that Francis, Pandora, Oliver, and the twins, with all of their contributions to the wizarding world, should be forgotten so effortlessly.
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Everyone saw us as we flew to Hogwarts and landed before the great front doors. Pandora ignored the questions that rained down upon us by gathered teachers and elder students. She wordlessly pushed her broom into the arms of a prefect and carried me into the castle. Directly to the infirmary we marched. As she carried me, she called out for Albus Dumbledore.
"We have to check your temperature, warm your body up, search for any unseen injuries." Pandora rattled off a list of things that had to be taken care of. She expressed worry for my cold condition, but said I was not as bad as she thought. At the time, my teeth chattered loudly as my entire body continuously shivered. Had I been listless or hallucinating, she would have been more worried.
Just before we reached the infirmary, a dark shadow ran full-tilt down the hallway. "Grandmother!" he called. "Sev!" Pandora's pace slowed slightly and James dashed to her side, grabbed one arm, and peered over it at me. "Is he okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "I jumped in after him, but I couldn't find him and Hagrid pulled me out."
"He will be fine."
"Where was he?"
James saw the way Pandora flinched and hesitated with her answer. "By the shore," she replied finally as we swept through the doors that opened to the infirmary. "I found him by the shore." James stared after Pandora as a plump woman wearing all white rushed up to us.
No one said anything as the woman grabbed me from Pandora and hauled me off to a bed. I was stripped naked from my freezing clothes and wrapped tightly in warmed blankets. As Albus entered the infirmary and I saw him for the first time, Pandora set up a tray of scalding hot soup in which to force-feed me with. James perched on the end of my bed, his feet swinging free as the woman in white--Madam Carnish, who would be replaced by Madam Poppy Pomfrey in two short years--addressed Albus.
"He'll be fine," the woman explained as the old man tottered over to me, "we just have to get him warmed up." Albus Dumbledore looked no different in the days of my youth. He still wore his flowing robes, had a long white beard, and a pair of glasses perched at the very end of his nose. He looked at me over these.
"James tells me that Lucius Malfoy pushed you from the boat, and Lucius Malfoy tells me that you and Peter Pettygrew fell accidentally out of the boat." At the mention of Lucius, Pandora's head swivelled around to look at us. "Peter was hysterical and kept saying he was going to be eaten by a squid. What do you think happened?"
Pandora brought the platter over to me. She stood beside Albus, expecting an answer from me as well. I hunched deeper into my warmed blankets. "I think that Lucius meant to scare us." Whether or not he truly meant for us to fall out of the boat I myself could not say. James looked at us, his eyes filled with questions and concern.
"You're not scared, are you?" Albus asked. I shook my head. Albus looked at Pandora. "Where did you find him?"
Pandora remained steady as she answered. "By the shore." It was the truth for I was close to the shore, but Albus gave her a look that stated he knew she was not telling him everything. She glared coldly at him to discourage his saying anything. Albus turned to me and smiled.
"Well young man," he said as he patted the top of my bundled head, "it appears that you get an extra special ceremony." He turned from me to Minerva, who stood beside the doors of the infirmary. "Bring the Sorting Hat here," he said. She nodded and left through the doors. Albus sat down on the bed between James and me. "We carried on with the ceremony while a few teachers sought you out; we deemed it wisest so as not to alarm the other students. A shame; the Sorting Hat had a very nice song this year. But you will be sorted into the House best suited for you and your purposes, and your things will be located to it."
"He's staying here for the night." Madam Carnish's words left no room for argument.
Albus scooted to the side as Pandora set the tray before me and fussed with the arrangements of napkin, fork, and bowl of steaming beef broth. James peered around Albus at me. As Pandora spooned the hot broth into my mouth, James told me of how the ceremony had been like within the Great Hall, the people at the tables, all the different sorts of food. "I got sorted into Gryffindor!" he prattled. "So did Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Peter Pettygrew, that person who rode with you in the boat!"
"All of you?" Pandora paused in feeding me. She looked at Dumbledore, who shrugged.
"It is not unusual for children who know each other to often wind up in the same House," he explained. James hugged himself in giddy delight.
"I hope you wind up in Gryffindor too!" he told me. "Then we will all be together!"
I stared at him sourly. Why would I want to live in the same House as Sirius, Remus and that frightened fat slob who flattened me in the lake for the next seven years? The thought was appalling at best and I dearly hoped for anything besides Gryffindor. Even Hufflepuff! At that moment, Minerva entered the infirmary with the Sorting Hat reverently carried in her hands. Trailing behind her were Frank, Lily, Sirius, and Remus.
"Are you all right?" Frank asked.
Minerva ignored the glare Madam Carnish gave her. "They were concerned," she said to Pandora and Albus, "and rather than having them camp outside the infirmary for news of Snape here, I decided to allow them in."
"Wonderful!" Albus exclaimed cheerfully as Madam Carnish opened her mouth to protest. "We will have our own Sorting Ceremony for young Mister Snape!" He and James jumped to their feet. As Pandora set the tray to the side, everyone ringed around my bed. Pandora gently pulled the blankets away from my head, looping the folds around my bare shoulders. She stepped back and Minerva sat the Sorting Hat on my head.
There is no need to say what the Sorting Hat told me. As a gutter rat, loyalty and dependability was something I had very little of. I firmly believed that bravery could get me killed, since discretion was a better part of valour and such was the life code of gutter rats everywhere. Trust? Me? Bah! Because of my background as a gutter rat, I was terribly suspicious and filled with a need to aspire to something that would forever keep me out of the slums. Naturally, my best House would be Slytherin. I was too harsh to belong in Hufflepuff, did not have the dependability or honour for Ravenclaw, and lacked the much-needed bravado for Gryffindor. "To cultivate what you wish to become," explained the Hat to me before loudly announcing Slytherin.
Pandora beamed proudly as the waiting smiles on the faces of my childhood companions dropped into open-mouth surprise and shock. Pandora did not seem to notice as Minerva took the Sorting Hat from off my head. She threw her arms around me in a hug. I smiled smugly at James. He might have winded up in the House of his grandfather, but I was a Snape and, true to form, was in Pandora's House.
As Albus and Minerva left the infirmary with the Sorting Hat and Madam Carnish went off to mix potions for medication, James leaned close to me. "That's where Cousin Lucius went," he whispered. From the way everyone looked, I could tell Lucius had already begun a reputation for himself, or at least they had had, overall, a bad experience with Slytherin students. Pandora pulled the blankets over my head again until the material draped before my vision and fed me more of the broth.
If I had had a choice between Slytherin, with Lucius, and Gryffindor, with everyone else, I still would have chosen Slytherin. There are few persons anywhere who could rival me with my ability to go unnoticed, and fewer persons who could find me if I did not wish to be found. I could live with Lucius being in the same House; it mattered not to me. There was only one of him, versus six in Gryffindor, among them being James who could find me if he searched long enough, and Sirius, who had a better ability of finding me than James did. I do not know how Sirius managed this and I do not know why, but I find I quite dislike this concept.
However, the idea that the students of Gryffindor and Slytherin had to be segregated at all times but classes did not seem to sit well with my companions. They did not, in general, put up with the major number of people in Slytherin, and visa versa. Most of those who winded up in Slytherin did so because they felt themselves superior and were selfish. These personality traits are common amongst Slytherins, and it may be because they believe themselves to be greater than anyone else.
The Gryffindors, with their trustworthiness and bravery, could not stand the behaviour and attitude of the Slytherins. So, when one pitted against the other, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw both dodged out of sight lest they got caught between hurled hexes and anything small enough to be heaved a good distance across the room.
Now, there were a few exceptions to the rules of people being placed in Houses most suited for their personality. Peter did not go well with Gryffindors in the least. He was a cowardly idiot with a sense of dignity the size of my belief in mankind's goodness. For this reason, perhaps, James saw fit to help the dimwit. Because James accepted Peter, Sirius and Remus did as well, with Lily discouraging Sirius from pulling what pranks he could on Peter. Too, there was myself. James often went out of his way to seek me out, if just to ask me how my day was going, what was our current project in Potions, how did my flying go, and did I get a letter from Pandora? Oh, and could he borrow my notes from such and such class or maybe study together with me?
Why he sought me out for help I had no idea at that time. I was not a brilliant student who got top grades. I just knew dozens and dozens of seemingly useless facts about obscure subjects as well as enough hexes and curses to obliterate Hogwarts. James did well enough in his classes that he did not need my help and his knowledge of Dark Arts was almost equal to my own. That could be attested to having a legal guardian with a formable amount of knowledge on Dark Arts and how to defend against them. For whatever reason though, he also commenced to drag along failing students of his House I could tutor.
Did I refuse? Rarely. I liked spreading knowledge around, seeing the looks in my fellow students’ eyes as they appreciated what they were learning and burned to learn more of it. Sometimes, I felt I knew how Pandora and Francis must have felt when they taught to those who came to them for knowledge. However, teaching was not something I wanted a career of. For every appreciate student I taught, there were also the birdbrains one has to beat information in--repeatedly. Peter was one of them.
Every weekend, I would find myself in the library seated on one side of that imbecile with Remus on the other and Lily directly across the table from us, a large pile of books in the middle. We made him memorize things, write papers, do multiple tasks and experiments, all so he could understand one single thing at a time.
That was how I spent my Saturday evenings for four years steady. I suppose it would not have mattered one way or another, seeing as how my social life was nearly the same size as Sirius' attention span.
I will not go into great detail of my first four years at Hogwarts, or all seven, though the first four and the last three are split by a significant occurrence in the middle.
I am not nor have ever been a very sociable person. I tended to be quiet and watch everyone. Better it is, indeed, to watch another acting as a fool rather than one's self being the fool. Every semester was a whirlwind of learning and seeing new things. Every Christmas and Easter was spent at Dinsmore with Pandora as well as anyone who wanted to go with her for the holidays instead of staying at Hogwarts with the teachers. James was quite interested in Quidditch, something Oliver, Francis, or I could not quite understand. You must realize we were not very sporty people. I flew on a broom only when I had to, Oliver preferred to have his feet on the ground, and Francis had a severe phobia of heights.
Pandora was hardly troubled with James being a Seeker for the Gryffindor team by our second year and my not bothering to try out for the Slytherin team. She was rather proud either way, and came to as many games as she possibly could. If Gryffindor played against Slytherin, rather than chose favourites because of both grandsons being in both Houses and her own old loyalties, Pandora sat directly behind the scorekeeper and cheerfully waved the Slytherin flag in one hand and the Gryffindor flag in the other with me doing the same at her side.
I rarely watched my House team practice. If asked and I answered honestly, I would have to say I felt more loyalty to the Gryffindor team than the Slytherin team, which was true when one considered how my brother was on the Gryffindor team and Lucius was on the Slytherin team. Cold mornings and late evenings would occasionally see me seated beside Remus and Lily on the bleachers, watching James and Sirius practice.
James was like a bird, smooth, graceful, quick, and spirited. I loved to watch him fly; he looked so carefree and joyous. It was a far better sighv than seeing the Slytherin team knocking each other’s heads in at every chance they had. James took to flying as if he had lived his whole life in preparation for those moments when he was seated on the broom. James was unnaturally graceful, and it showed whenever he flew.
The Slytherins could not understand how I could be so close to any Gryffindor. Again, if asked I would have said that merely being with them did not mean I was close to them. This is true. While I tutored, watched James play Quidditch, listened to him shout things to me across the tables in the dining hall, and somehow getting pulled into group outings to Hogsmeade, we truly did nothing intimate together or confided secrets with one another. To a certain degree, as James was my brother, the Slytherins could understand how I would spend time with him, but everyone else? What was the purpose of that? Surely they thought I realized how much greater Slytherin was than Gryffindor, yes?
Lucius rarely did anything to me in those days. He watched me with vicious eyes and waited once more for a chance to physically strike against me. He did not though, so it may have been that being close to James was what protected me against ambushes at night or within empty corridors. However, being close to James did not prevent Lucius from backstabbing, mocking, or gossiping about me whenever the chance arose. That boy spread more malicious rumours about me through the entire school than Sirius pulled pranks in his seven years at Hogwarts.
James seemed slightly worried about the rumours so he tried to squash them the best he could. With a large following of admirers in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, this was fairly easy to do. He used to bring the rumours to me and grouse over them, complaining about how cruel they were and how these people who started them knew nothing of who I was. My favourite rumour would have to be the one where I was the lovechild between Voldemort and some whore from the streets. I laughed when James told me of it, and continuously snickered for days over the idea that I could be Voldemort's son. With my background and my twice-encounter with Voldemort, I found the situation comical in the least.
When Christmas vacation came along--it was in our third year, if I remember correctly--I told Pandora about it. She was not nearly as amused as I, though Francis and Severus both appreciated the humour of the situation. Oliver looked absolutely horrified and the twins composed a raunchy song of how I was a bastard of the bastard.
There were a few others who stood up for me because of their standing with me and not because they admired James. Lily, who remembered me as the little boy who created sand castles with her when we first met, supported James in helping me. Remus, ever quiet and understanding with his own problem, supported me. Frank, two years ahead of me, kept the older Slytherins not scared of James from bothering me.
Sirius and Peter, on the other hand, could have cared less. Well-versed with how bitter and sarcastic I could become during our Saturday evening tutoring, Peter stuck with Sirius. Sirius grew quite fond of Peter for some odd reason and would protect him from me whenever possible. He tried to sit in on the tutoring sessions, but Remus assured him that he and Lily would keep me under control, which certainly did not happen.
I believe Sirius was jealous of how close I was to James and how James was so concerned for my welfare. It should have been the other way around. James did not confide secrets with me as in who he liked or some forbidden thing he had gotten away with doing. We only exchanged quick day-to-day bases, or something that interrupted normal life but would soon be forgotten, as that was how insignificant the interruption was.
If I asked James for something, he would help. If he asked me for something, I would help. The only basis of a relationship we had with each other of being brothers was our connection between Pandora. I loved him, but he was one of the few, and saying thus does not at all allow much room for comparison with others. Had I been someone living in another family and had never grown up with James, we would have ignored one another completely. Had James and Lily lived, we would have drifted apart without a single worry. It hurts though. It hurts to acknowledge how far apart we were. It hurts to be reminded as to what we might have, could have, or would have been if circumstances were slightly different.
Then came the significant event that separated my first four years and my last three.
Everyone knew the Forbidden Forest was off-limits. This was because of the creatures that roamed amongst the trees; creatures so great and so terrible even someone like Pandora would have had a problem fighting against them. We used to think the Shrieking Shack was, through one way or another, connected to one or more of the creatures from the Forbidden Forest. There were all sorts of rumours of that, from violent spirits to Death Eater ceremonies.
However, I noticed something odd about Remus. It was not until the closing of our fourth year when Lily was explaining how Remus would not be helping us tutor Peter as usual because he was sick. It was rare that he would be too "ill" to help us, though we believed this excuse because his appearance the next day was that of harrowed weariness. Remembering back a while, I realized Remus would disappear for a day each month. Why?
I decided, since Peter was not scheduled for any tests soon, that it would be best just to review what he already knew and then quit for the evening. Lily agreed. When I saw James in the corridor as I walked back to the Slytherin House, I told him to pass my condolences to Remus and how I hope he would feel better soon. James' eyes grew wide behind his glasses and he nodded quickly before trying to hurry past me. Having gotten a growth spurt (or perhaps it was the nutritious food), I was by then quite taller than him.
"Remus is sick, isn't he?" I asked, glaring pointedly down at James. James shuffled his feet, refusing to meet my eyes, and nodded.
"Well, yeah. He's very sick." James was an atrocious liar; dependable enough to keep a secret, but an atrocious liar nonetheless. I let him go, realizing something was wrong. But whom could I see about this matter? For all his jokes and pranks with Sirius and Remus, people trusted James. I concluded he was worried for Remus, had gotten help, and was told to remain silent about the matter.
That night, tucked into my bed with the covers pulled over my head, I heard Lucius grumble something of how it was a full moon and the only reason why Potter got away with sneaking outside during curfew was because he was Pandora's favoured.
I would not have realized it sooner. Full moons rarely fell on Saturdays. Except for our tutoring sessions, I never expected to see Remus anywhere at a regular basis. He could be with James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily, or he could not be. The next morning, Remus was sitting at the breakfast table, looking tired, worn, and haggard. I could never understand how or why this happened. After that, I would follow him at evening the best I could, or sit next to the window and pretend to do some late night reading while all the time watching for moving bodies. There were time when I heard sounds from the walls, of thumps and James and Sirius arguing softly or complaining about their feet being trod upon.
The year ended with one more full moon, and while I made a note that Remus seemed ill on the day after the full moon and my brother and his friends were half-asleep on their feet. I could not understand what was going on, and it drove me mad with curiosity. I had my suspicions, but for the summer, the Lupins decided to visit family in Italy and left me without a chance to continue categorizing his days of sicknesses
It was not until Pandora showed up a few weeks after our fifth year had started, telling James he had forgotten his invisible cloak, did I realize there was no possible way I could spot James if he wandered outside after curfew-even if I knew where he was bound. I then concluded these escapades were the usual thing the "Marauders" pulled often enough, and the reason why Remus was so tired was because he spent so much energy trying to keep James and Sirius in check.
At least, that was my theory until, one day very close to a September twilight, seated at the top of the Astronomy Tower with Frank and eating honey buns James had snitched from the kitchen and then gave me as he ran into me in the hallway, I saw Poppy Pomfrey leading Remus away. Why was the infirmary mistress taking Remus off the school grounds? Frank ignored the matter, saying it was none of our business. That may have been Frank’s attitude, but certainly not mine.
If James knew what was wrong with Remus, then the other Marauders would know as well. If pressured, one of them could drop me enough blatant hints to allow me to learn the secret. Lily was out of the question. I could not stand the idea of having to push her to the brink of becoming upset enough to say something without thinking; besides I doubted she knew anything about the matter. Remus was out of the question as well. He was always too much in control; too cheerful, patient, and easygoing to upset, and much too directly involved in the problem. James could not be budged if he did not care to be and certainly not for me. Sirius was stubborn and, if pushed too far, bound to get violent. I was not keen on the idea having to explain to James why Sirius punched me.
That left Peter. The coward could be cornered alone and prodded enough to the point where he would spill his guts of everything he knew. I underestimated his strength though. Whatever backbone he developed was not because he had it within him but because he borrowed enough of James' strength through the years to make one.
I swept through one of the empty corridors, walking in one direction and Peter came towards me, walking in the other direction. Our shoulder met as we brushed past one another and my hand caught his sleeve, pulling him off-balance. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor with a large thump. As he started to get to his feet, I planted a foot on his rotund stomach and pressed him back to the floor.
"I need some words with you," I said casually. Peter shivered and tried to move, but I shifted my weight. "What do you, James, Sirius, and Remus all do at night once a month off school grounds?" He squeaked suddenly and went pale. "Come now," I said, "you may tell me." He squeaked again and shook his head no. I shifted more of my weight onto the foot, pressing against his stomach. He blanched and squeaked again. "Do you know, on my word alone that you have been sneaking out, you could be expelled?"
I could be terrifying if I so desired. I cultivated a quiet and morose appearance in those early years of Hogwarts to discourage people who thought to approach me--not that it worked with James or Sirius. From my years on the streets, I knew a number of ways to force information out of a person. Intimidation is a wonderful thing, and one rarely has to enforce one’s ability when one is already considered by the majority as intimidating. Constant reinforcement helps the image of intimidation though. I learned this from Voldemort. If there is one thing that may be admired of Voldemort it is that he knew how to dominate others.
Human nature is the most flexible thing on earth. We humans may be angels, kind and sweet in our devotion and actions towards others. Then too, we can be worse than mindless animals, viciously inflicting immeasurable pain on one another because seeing another’s suffering creates a perverted pleasure. A foot pressed against the stomach is more painful than a foot pressed against the chest. The guts are shoved against the oesophagus beneath the ribcage and misalign the other body organs; this tends to afflict a greater pain than lungs being compressed and ribs bent inward.
I know many dirty ways to cause human suffering through simple inflictions of pain, ways that make a few of Voldemort's curses pale in comparison. I feel no shame to admit thus. It is only knowledge after all, though knowledge is always a dangerous thing to those who would misuse it.
Peter squeaked again, and shook his head, refusing to say anything. "Would you like to be expelled?" I asked. He clamped his jaws shut and managed to gather enough energy to glare at me. I was quite surprised he was capable of this. I shifted more weight onto the foot pressed again his stomach, propping my arms against my leg and folded my fingers into a bridge to rest my chin. I gazed thoughtfully down at him. "I wouldn't mind at all seeing you expelled--or Sirius," I said almost casually. "And if I am forced to go hunting for answers when you have them, I guarantee I would be in a grumpy enough mood to tell the correct authorities-such as McGonagall. She is your Head, is she not?"
He glared at me again. "Why do you care?" he asked. "You're just jealous of us!"
"Jealous?" I dropped my arms and leaned close enough for him to see his pallid reflection in my black eyes. "Why on earth would I be jealous of a group of delinquent hooligans?"
"Let me up!" Peter cried out loudly as he struggled against my weight. I heard running footsteps, and just as I stepped back from Peter, Sirius burst around the corner.
How aptly his surname should be Black! Such is his temper and so easily can it be pushed. The look on his face, with me hovering over a downed Peter, was hideously full of rage. He stormed up to me, his hands bunched at his sides in fists, and stopped short at Peter's head. Without breaking eye contact, he bent over and pulled Peter to his feet. When Peter had regained his balance, Sirius gently shoved him to the side. "Go," he said. "I'll deal with Severus."
I folded my hands and looked at Sirius, patiently waiting for him to explode in a tirade of insults towards my parentage (or lack thereof), intelligence, social skills, fashion sense, and anything else he could think of. He did not though. He merely stared at me for a moment before speaking softly. "What do you want?"
"Information."
"Do you desire this information enough to torture your friend?"
"That fat slob is not my friend," I hissed, remembering my near drowning. Sirius's expression, if it was possible, darkened.
"Then what is it that you want that you have bully another student for?"
"I said information." He remained silent, still watching me. A look appeared in his eyes, calculating and cunning; two aspects I would never have associated with Sirius Black before.
"The best way to learn is to observe," Sirius said, almost wisely. "So, if you want to learn, go to the Whomping Willow on the evening of--” he fell silent for a moment, calculating a number of days, “--two Thursdays from now. Follow Remus directly from the beginning, such as poking the base of the Whomping Willow and following after him.” He turned away from me and I heard contempt, so stark and plain, in his voice. "Maybe information isn't worth what you think."
Now, Sirius knew me enough that I would study something before making a decision. There was rarely a time in my life when I acted impetuously. He knew I would accumulate a plan before and after learning what I needed to, and then move cautiously. So I watched. I slipped out of Hogwarts before sunset on that Thursday, made my way to the Whomping Willow, and found myself a nitch in the surrounding woods where I was obscure, yet could still make out the area around the Whomping Willow.
I waited. Around twilight, I saw Remus scurrying quickly to the Whomping Willow. He carried a long stick over his shoulder. He paused just outside of the Willow’s flaying branches, crouched close to the ground, and crept up to the base of the tree. He poked a spot on the trunk with the stick. The branches froze, and he slipped between the roots into what seemed to be an impossibly small hole. After a few moments, the branches started to move again. To me, this only added to the secret. I thought about what I saw, could find nothing dangerous about the situation--aside from accidentally getting creamed by the Whomping Willow--and, after several moments passed, I followed after him. I slipped beneath the branches of the Whomping Willow and saw the bruised area Remus had nudged. I used the same stick Remus used to still the Whomping Willow’s branches, and the entrance to the tunnel opened.
I entered like a lamb innocently crossing the threshold of an occupied lion’s cave. That, as you well know, is hardly far from the truth. I found myself at the end of a tunnel. I decided to follow it to the other end. After some time, I became aware of a deep breathing and short gasps of pain drifting down the tunnel with echoes of pounding footsteps. I felt a sudden flash of worry for Remus, remembering how the Shrieking Shack was filled with screams and how closely connected it seemed to be with the Forbidden Forest. I hurried further down the tunnel and around a corner to slam into a body.
I stumbled back to see Remus staring at me in shock. He cried out in pain, doubling over as he clawed at his shoulders and I reached out to touch him, question of his welfare on my lips. The cry of pain turned into a predator's snarl. Before my eyes, Remus' human form melted into that of a wolf's. I saw his eyes as he changed. Gold-rimmed as always, pleading with me to get away as far as possible.
What else could I do? I turned and ran, remembering the lesson on werewolves I had been taught in DADA during my second year and what Pandora had told James and me when we were both seven. I ran as swiftly as I could through the tunnels. Behind me, I heard a yip of delight. A blast of echoes rocked the tunnels as Remus, as a wolf, howled.
So many near misses in my life. I escaped so many disasters living on the streets, was nearly captured to be tortured to death for Death Eaters' amusement, almost drowned, could have been kept by Voldemort for more torturing, and all that seemed to come down to this-being a munchy for an overgrown canine with humongous teeth, who was also my brother's best friend. The irony of the matter that I should escape so many enemies only to be finished off by an almost-friend was, quite literally, going to kill me. What a way to begin the school year.
I pounded through the tunnels, my heart beating fast enough to leap out of my throat and run ahead of me. I quite clearly imagined the snapping teeth behind me and gold-rimmed eyes filled with bloodlust. I summoned even more speed than before, my headlong dash carrying me closer to the entrance.
Not too far behind, I heard another howl and the sound of claws clicking against stone.
Ahead of me, I saw the tunnel come to an end. Did the opening close automatically behind a person? How did one open it from within the tunnel? I crashed into the wall, fell to the ground, and leapt to my feet. I frantically ran my hands over the wall, searching for any telltale latch. I heard a huff behind me, and slowly turned around to see a wolf standing little less than a hundred cubits from me.
I realized then that Sirius had meant to kill me.
How else can you explain such a thing happening? He told me to follow after Remus from the beginning, but he did not tell me how to get out. Did he mean for me to never come back? What was he thinking to involve Remus in such a situation? Yes, I may be killed, but it was Remus who was going to do the killing!
Why do I despise and hate your godfather?
It is more than just nearly getting me killed.
It has a lot to do with putting Remus in the situation to directly kill someone. In that, Sirius Black betrayed his friend in a way I never could to anyone else. Am I ever to be considered a monster, given that situation? Truly I think not.