This Endangered Life

He had not known much about what had happened–not as if he ever did, of course. The only reassurance for his oblivion was that Peter knew less, poor boy.

Sirius had briefed him on it by saying, "The idiot actually believed me. Went straight up to the Willow, deactivated it, and went through. James went in after him & pulled him out, but you would think James'd fed him to you piece by piece. Course, Snape raised a fuss."

James had been less casual, and gave a far better account of the situation:

"Well, Sirius sent Snape through the tunnel, although I don't think Snape really knew what he was getting into. I went after him to pull him, and he put up a bit of a fight." James gestured at a swollen black eye that Remus had already noticed. "He said that if Sirius had thought it a matter interesting enough to send him through, at least he should get more of a chance to observe it. Wasn't a bit scared, either. It was really quite a job to bring him back through.

"Then, when I'd dragged him back out, he headed out to look for the headmaster. Never even bothered to release my grip on him, so he was dragging me forward a bit. You know how he is, strong but without regard to hurting a chap. So I let go, obviously–followed him as he went up. I don't think he actually knew where Dumbledore's office was to begin with, though that didn't seem to stop him.

"I couldn't tell whether Snape was actually angry or not, but he looked sort of shocked. Naturally! We met Dumbledore then–thank God–and I explained, but Snape cut me off, and he laughed in Dumbledore's face. Horrible, like Lord Voldemort, I thought, spine chilling.

" 'You will do nothing, and because your golden boys have been the criminals. You shock me, but what does that matter? I take up your space, breathe your air, and continue to live. To think that I almost didn't.' Then he went off.

"Dumbledore looked shocked, too, and angry, although I wasn't sure at what. Sirius, playing a stupid prank? Snape, being himself? Look, I am sorry about all this; I don't think we ever realized what was going on. There have been a lot of meetings since then, with Sirius and Snape and I, and the rage at each one rises."

That had been were James ended off, and if Remus hadn't been so exhausted from his transformation, he would have wanted a few more details. He felt drained of all energy and stayed sitting in the hallway long after the sun set. James left eventually to make his rounds as a prefect. That was his given excuse; Remus knew that even though his friends did love him, lycanthropy was an iron door that barred them the intimacy they wanted between one another, and it terrified them. It was draining and no matter how much empathy they had, even being his friend was a burden and they had to keep their distance so often they became estranged. Every single time, it took so much out of him, and even more out of them.

And now this: Sirius could be thoughtless even to his friends, and so cruel to his enemies. As he stretched out his arms and yawned, his shabby robes sleeve slid down, revealing a pale, heavily scarred arm. Remus took deep, almost sobbing breaths, wishing he had taken up meditation the previous summer like his mother–very healthy, contrary to popular belief–had suggested. Inner peace sounded so desirable just then, and so unattainable.

He gave a start as he saw a tall, dark figure striding down the hallway. It could only be a teacher, or Snape, the only tall student at Hogwarts to grow into his height gracefully. Remus had once wondered how old Severus Snape actually was; he'd arrived at Hogwarts looking fully adolescent.

As the figure neared, and stopped in front of him, Remus saw the last person he wanted to deal with, and sighed.

"You should get to the hospital wing." A tone of mild reproach, which surprised Remus. He'd expected rip-roaring rage, and an agonizing mental trashing. Snape's idea of retaliation was enough to make any warm-blooded creature shiver.

Remus didn't ask why he should go to the hospital wing; he knew what a wreck he looked like. Besides, Snape was the one in Medical Magic, not him.

"You aren't, though. Am I hindering you? I'll go," Snape said.

Remus waved an almost-translucent hand. "No need," he said. After all, misery loves company, even in the form of a notorious Slytherin whom miserable Remus could have ripped to shreds.

Snape crouched down beside him. "No need for what, exactly? Going to the infirmary, or my leaving?"

"Either, I suppose." There was silence for several seconds.

"Sirius Black has been targeting me for a while now. Ever since the beginning of this year, there have been hostile outbreaks, actually. Would you know why, perchance?" he asked softly. "Enlighten me."

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I don't know," he mumbled. "Must've been something in the summer, after that prank of yours. I guess you know where I was then."

"I got permission to camp out in the woods, so that was where Britannia Malfoy and I went. The others didn't want Slytherins around. We were all happy... my mother included."

"Yes, Lily must have been so glad to see you go," said Remus. "She has no Gryffindor friends and you left her to the wolves."

"She wanted to stay back at the school," said Severus. "Perhaps she wished to make the acquaintance of her housemates."

They fell silent again, for how long they didn't know.

Remus broke the silence with, "What time is it?"

Snape got up reluctantly and looked out the window. "Probably a few hours after sunset?"

"Did you really sass Dumbledore?"

"I was acting as could be expected after what had happened."

"Any points off?" said Remus, meaning it as a joke. Snape took it seriously.

"No. I caught him by surprise. He gave me no reaction when I was telling him, but shone kindness down on me. It was patronizing, unhelpful, and did nothing to aid the situation." Snape slammed his hand against the stone floor for emphasis, his low voice as definite as a child defying his parents.

"Must've helped your situation, I'm sure. From James' account of it, you've been pretty angry." Might as well cut to what he'd been dreading for the whole conversation. "Do you think I'm that bad?"

"Don't worry. I knew where you'd been; I knew you were a werewolf. That was enough for me. So I stayed where I was, and mulled on it for a few seconds, when that idiot came down."

"He's my friend," protested Remus, smiling in the darkness. Snape's caustic humour amused him.

"The idiot savant came down after me, which was quite unnecessary. I was quite safe, and I had no intention of letting James take some kind of credit for 'risking his life to save me'. I didn't need saving, simply, and I really didn't want it. So, I half-heartedly put up a fight. But he got me up, anyway."

"I don't think I'll tell him that. He's been pleased as punch lately, talking about saving you."

"Presumably, it makes him even more of a martyr that I'm so ungrateful," Snape sneered. "It's a good thing you're a loup-garou, Lupin, otherwise this would be greatly publicized."

"No one has ever told me it was fortunate that I was a werewolf." He could not believe his ears.

"Now someone has," Snape pointed out, as he was often apt to do.

Lupin chuckled in disbelief.

"I meant it," Snape snapped.

"Yeah, sorry. But, back to the anger management classes."

Snape seemed puzzled. "What?"

Lupin grinned. "Nothing. What of all these meeting you've been having?"

"Sirius intended to kill me...sick bastard."

"He is my friend. This will get back to him."

"If you have a backbone in you, you know he oughtn't be your friend much longer. Attempted murder, if you believe it–and I never even knew I could die! Are you as angry as I am? My life, treated with so little regard, and now that the joke is funny–if you cannot distinguish from blatant stupidity–it's unbearable. But of course, everyone is so blinded by the blood-&-mustard scarves that they laugh and wipe their boots on this endangered life." He gave another exhalation of bitter laughter.

"You were the one claiming they were harmless."

"Of course. They couldn't find their way out of a box with a top. According to them, I was about to be viciously decapitated. It is not fair, Remus, to you or me. When I try to tell them that James hasn't helped anything, they laugh. You would be better off telling them."

"What?"

Snape sighed, running his hand through his hair. "That wasn't fair, I know. I apologize. You get the sharp end of the stick here, I know."

"No," said Remus, trying to make amends, "Sirius attempted your life. You are allowed to feel angry. I don't really have anything to do with it."

"Sirius used you. You were his tool, and you will welcome him with open arms, I know it. Listen, people know you and they like you. Friends are no problem for you, but your friends are your problem. They may have been the first people who accepted you, but they won't be the last. You don't need them.

"Break rank, Remus!" yelled Snape, and his voice rose higher as he became animated and strode the length of the corridor. Remus understood now why James had compared him to Lord Voldemort. He could see the same persuasion and fanaticism in Snape. "Burn your bridges now and you'll never need to turn back ever again. With us you will be more than tolerated, accepted–you will be embraced! You could be Minister of Magic if your friends weren't dragging you down. The first werewolf to be Minister, Remus, think of what you could do, who you could be..."

He broke off, breathing heavily, and Remus took the opportunity to move away. He felt as if he had been shrinking while Snape had been talking, for suddenly Snape dwarfed him, a large dark shadow that loomed threateningly.

"This is what you wanted, then?" whispered Remus. "You didn't come to tell me I wasn't a monster or a killer just because I wanted to hear it. No, you came to take me from my friends and turn me into you. Well, I don't want to be you." His voice rose, echoing off the walls. "I DON'T WANT TO BE A SLYTHERIN!"

Snape crumpled to the floor and curled into a sitting position.

"Neither do I," he said, subdued. "What are we to do? What?" He laid his head against Remus' shoulder and, for once, his friends held no influence over him, for he felt no urge to nauseate himself by imagining the horrible condition of Snape's hair.

"You know what the sorting hat said to me?" Snape mused. "It told me, 'You aren't properly loyal. Ideas are what hold your faith. Ambition, that's you. However, wait, let us go further: you're good with languages, and you're brave. You could be good in Gryffindor, but you're far too brave.' And I asked it, 'Too brave? How can that be? I'm not brave at all. I have none of these traits. I don't want them.'

"And it said to me, 'If you don't think you're brave, that's Gryffindor Yes, ideas hold your faith. Nothing but the best for you.' I've been wondering about that lately."

"I wouldn't have to," said Remus quietly. "I don't know how you can't see it. You should have seen yourself just then, Snape. You're Voldemort. Slightly less ugly and powerful, maybe, but it is there."

Snape shook his head. "No, I'm not," he insisted. "I'd die before I became a demon like him. I wouldn't do that." He gripped Remus' arm. "Believe me, I won't. Kill me when I do, Remus, swear to kill me if it happens."

"Why me?" said Remus. "I think we've had enough contact with each other now, thanks." In truth, Snape was starting to frighten him.

"May as well finish what you started."

Remus stared at Snape. "That was unfair."

Apologizing again, Snape sighed.

"Discontent breeds in us all," he said. "Dumbledore let you in the school when no one else would because that is what bolsters his esteem."

"Because he feels sorry for me, you're saying?"

"Yes. He tries to take over hopeless cases to give him a sense of success. He does it so he can look at people and claim their glory for his own. He thinks without him, they would be destitute. I denounce him!" he spat, rising. Against the moonlight radiating from the window, the clenching of his fists looked sinister. His profile, magnificent and war-like, shone out at Remus, the nose clearly defined.

"You're being unfair again," said Remus.

"And you're being far too fair," Snape countered. He sat down again.

Yawning, Remus leaned against him, realizing how tired he was.

"I've exhausted you, haven't I?" whispered Snape. "I do that to people... let's get you to bed." He lifted Remus up in his arms and carried him the entire way to the Fat Lady's portrait. "What is the new password?"

"Not telling," mumbled Remus. " 'D only use it to your 'vantage. Sneak up on us."

Snape laughed. "Oh, I would find out anyway, and I won't leave you here unguarded. You're rather vulnerable, after all."

"Am not...big bad wolf...don't need protection."

"I'll stay here until you go in."

Opening one eye with great effort, Remus looked at him, blinking. "Serious?"

"If I do anything, send me to the Whomping Willow."

"My tree. Doesn't want you."

"Who knows?" said Snape. "Maybe one day you won't need it."

"Unlikely," Remus said. "Wake portrait now...password's Ursa."

Snape carried him through the portrait hole, into the Common Room, to a chesterfield. He brushed Remus' hair back from his face and drew a blanket over him, and left.

_____________

Remus yawns as the owl pecks at his window. He drags himself off his couch and opens the window a bit. The small owl flies in, and releases a package from its claws. Remus rips up the covering, and uncovers a small bottle with a potion. Enclosed is a small note:

December 24th, 1981
Remus: potion cure, Wolfsbane (told you that you wouldn’t need the Willow). Take right before sunset, day of full moon. ADD NOTHING. Good luck; happy Christmas.
S. Snape

Remus raises his eyebrows; Severus Snape has been missing for almost two months now. Ever since the Potters–he knows he should force himself to say it, but he cannot; in fact, he tries not to think about it at all. He wonders where Snape is, surprised to receive the Potion. It goes in his pantry for several days until needed.

Putting more trust in Snape than he has ever given to his failed friends–so Snape had been right–he follows the instructions. When it works, it surprises him to be surprised. He sends an enthusiastic letter to Snape, who ignores it completely.

Come the next full moon, he sends another dose, wishing Remus a happy new year.

The packages keep arriving routinely–happy Valentine's, Easter, spring–never answering the question always asked: "Where are you?"

Remus dutifully takes the potion, choking down its foul taste each time. Once he tries adding sugar, but never repeats this experiment again.

But every now and then, the potions are sent already sweetened, and work all the better.

END