Into the Fold

THE FIREWHIP

Autumn, 1975

Severus had had enough of Hogsmeade. He didn't go often and he wouldn't have bothered this time, except that he had hoarded enough of his pocket money to buy a large square of chocolate at Honeyduke's. The half-hour of warm well-being the chocolate had given him had been worth every precious Knut.

But the half-hour was gone and the solace the sweet had given Severus had trickled away. He had come into Hogsmeade with some of the Slytherins--Wilkes, Avery, Ruskin and Lestrange--but, one by one, they'd found companions they'd preferred and had wandered off: Wilkes and Avery, together as ever, Ruskin with Maddy Urquhart and Lestrange with Eleanor Baddock.

No one had shunned Severus. It had all been, "We'll see you back in the dungeon, all right, Severus? Don't eat too many sweets! And don't forget, you promised to revise Everlasting Elixirs with me before lessons Monday!"

All very civil. Still, their defections had left him alone, with his pockets empty of money. And so he supposed he might as well go back to the castle.

Besides, it was October, a week before Hallowe'en, and the sun was setting earlier and earlier. It wouldn't be long before the rest of them would have to start back, anyway. It might be nice to have an hour's peace in the dormitory before Wilkes, Avery and Rosier got back. Especially Rosier. Severus wasn't exactly keen on spending half the night listening to Rosier regale them with his latest foray against Vaisey's virginity.

The sun was still high when Severus started out, but by the time he had crossed the train tracks and was on the road heading toward the school gates, sunlight was filtering through the trees and a mist was rising from the lake.

Severus shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged along, his eyes on the road. He supposed he could do homework when he got back, but he didn't have to. It was only Saturday, and he'd kept up with his work all week.

He could work on his spells instead. Sectumsempra certainly needed attention. Severus was developing higher levels to the cutting spell, and it wasn't easy. But he wanted to do more with Sectumsempra than scratch his opponent, as he'd scratched James Potter on the cheek after O.W.L.s the year before.

He needed something stronger. Not necessarily something that would cut an enemy to ribbons. He wasn't out to kill anyone. He just wanted to make Sectumsempra into a spell which would create an unforgettable impression. A spell that would make the wizard on the receiving end think twice before he attacked Severus Snape again.

Severus continued deep in thought. The Firewhip was another spell which needed refinement, but refinement of a different sort. He wanted to make that spell invisible. He didn't want his opponent to have a chance to dodge before those lashes of fire bit into him....

The mist grew thicker. It drifted through the trees and over the road, turning gold as if touched by the rays of the westering sun. Still thinking about the Firewhip, Severus strode into the fog. He wouldn't get lost. He knew the road back to Hogwarts by heart.

The next thing Severus knew, the world had turned. With his feet still firmly on the road, he was hanging upside down. His wand slipped from his pocket, and for a second he saw it falling away, into a seemingly limitless sky. Then, like a curtain, his robes descended over his face.

Severus pushed his robes back and, clutching the cloth in his fists, held them over his body. Paralyzed with fear, he saw nothing but the deepening blue of the late-afternoon sky, the sun drawing near to the horizon and a few purpley-pink clouds in the west. He had no idea where his wand had gone.

Suddenly Severus heard half-smothered laughter. In a loud whisper, a very familiar voice said, "Oh, brilliant, Prongs! Bloody brilliant!"

"Yeah, it is, isn't it, Paddy? If I do say so myself," said James Potter.

Of course. That hadn't been sunlight which had turned the fog in the road gold. Severus had stepped into an anti-gravity mist. All he had to do to escape the enchantment was take a step forward. As for his wand, he was sure he'd find it right on the ground at his feet. He'd step out of the mist, grab his wand, and when he did, oh, would Potter ever pay for this.

Severus closed his eyes (it was the only way he could overcome his fear of falling into an infinity of sky) and tried to lift his foot. It wouldn't move.

"You didn't forget the Glutinator Hex, did you?" Black said in the same stage whisper.

"'Course not! Can't you tell?" said Potter. "He's still in the mist!"

Potter's gang laughed in reply, for of course all four of them were there: Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew.

"All right, you two, let him go!" said Lupin, playing prefect. He had too much laughter in his voice to convince Severus it was anything more than play.

"Nah, why should they?" said Pettigrew. "It's not like we can see anything this time, thank God!"

With obvious difficulty, Lupin choked back a laugh. "Oh, dissolvo!" he said in a tone of amusement and annoyance.

The world righted itself. The sky was above Severus, and the road, now clear of mist, was beneath his feet.

Searching the ground around him, Severus saw with rising panic that his wand was nowhere nearby.

"Here, Severus," said Lupin. Severus started and looked up. Lupin was standing no more than a couple of feet away, holding out Severus's wand.

Severus snatched the wand and saw surprise, then mild anger cross Lupin's face.

"You're welcome," Lupin said pointedly.

"Ah, I see. You want to teach me manners." Severus kept his voice cold. Fighting down a spasm of anger, he got deliberately to his feet. They weren't going to goad him into shrieking, ineffectual fury this time and make him despise himself afterward for it. "Why don't you tend to your own House?" He jabbed a finger at Potter and Black. "You're their prefect, aren't you? When you're not their cur, wagging your tail and licking their boots."

Black raised his wand. "Shove it up your arse, Snape. And shut your gob while you're about it."

"No!" said Lupin. "That's enough!"

Black looked at Lupin and lowered his wand, muttering under his breath. Potter and Pettigrew were silent, but beetroot-red with rage.

It felt so good to get under their skins. Severus tingled with the rare pleasure of it. "I still haven't worked out why Dumbledore chose you," he said to Lupin. "Did he want a rotten prefect, somebody who'd cater to Potter and Black? Or didn't that matter, because he knew you'd be gone half the time, and Potter and Black would be able to carry on as usual, getting away with twice as much as anybody in any other House?"

Suddenly Lupin's expression changed. He looked uncertain, even fearful. Severus had hit a nerve. He moved on Lupin, pressing his advantage. "Convenient, isn't it? 'It's not skiving, he can't help it, he has his poor, sick mum to care for! Let's give him twice as long to finish his schoolwork, even though we'd put anybody else on probation. Oh, and by the way let's make him a prefect too! He won't report the only friends he's got, even when he is here to catch them. Maybe Potter and Black's parents will stop complaining about how much time their little darlings spend in detention!'"

Lupin's face turned parchment-white. "You keep your mouth off my mum."

Severus laughed softly. "Why, you were gone just this past week, weren't you? You don't look so well. Did you catch what mummy's got? Is it contagious; will you give it to the rest of us, so we can bunk any time we want, like you do--?"

"Shut up!" cried Pettigrew.

Grinning, Severus turned toward Pettigrew, only to be stopped by a wand pointed inches from his face.

James Potter was holding the wand. "You heard them, Snivelly. Keep your filthy trap shut. Or I'll forget I promised Moony I wouldn't hurt you."

Severus's own wand was out before Potter was finished, and he had a hold on it no Disarming Spell could loose. "Do you really want to try it, Potter? You haven't jumped me from behind. I've still got my wand. I'm not flat on the ground. It's four dolts against one wizard. I'm not sure you want to take the chance."

"Then I will!" yelled Black, his face contorted with anger.

"Stop, Sirius!" Lupin said, but the slug-vomiting curse, already cast, sprang from Black's wand. Severus deflected it and followed it with an Impediment Jinx that took Black to the ground.

At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Potter raising his wand. Severus whirled to face him. Memories of old humiliations at Potter's hands bubbled poisonously in his heart.

Flammaflagrum! The thought leapt to Severus's mind and, quicker than any spoken word could have sent them, the snapping silver tendrils of the Firewhip shot out of his wand.

As the Firewhip curled toward him, Potter flicked his wand. Severus's arms and legs jerked. His wand waved wildly, and he fell to his hands and knees. He felt an itching, then pressure on each side of his scalp, just above his ears. He couldn't rise. He couldn't even properly crawl. He scrabbled on the ground like a confused and infuriated beetle.

Then Peter Pettigrew began to scream.

"Good lord! What's Snape done to him?" Lupin cried.

Severus couldn't see what was happening. He couldn't lift his head or rise from his hands and knees. Something burst through his scalp, and the pressure eased. Feelers, Severus realised, when he saw their feathery ends waving before his eyes. Potter had hit him with an Insect Jinx.

Miraculously, he still had his wand. But when he tried to aim it at himself to reverse the jinx, his arm flailed uselessly, like an insect's appendage, and the spell went awry.

Worse yet, Severus could feel magic tugging at his wand. Someone was trying to Disarm him. He held on with all his might.

"Expelliarmus!" Potter roared over Pettigrew's yells of pain. "Give me that damned wand, you bastard!"

"What in hell is going on here!" a new voice, that of Olaus Ruskin, shouted above the rest. "Rabby, watch Black!"

A spell cracked and Black yelped. Severus felt the hair-raising brush of another spell across his back, and the Insect Jinx fell away.

Severus leaped to his feet with his wand at the ready. No one paid any attention to him. Black got up slowly and hobbled toward the others, who were gathered in a circle and staring at Pettigrew.

"A good job we lost Maddy and Eleanor after Madame Puddifoot's, eh, Rabastan?" said Ruskin. "Somehow I don't think they'd have considered this part of a fun date."

Lowering his wand slightly, Severus went closer. Pettigrew lay writhing on the ground. His screams had faded to panting moans, as if he had exhausted himself. He had huge, angry-red, blotchy burns on his face and neck, burns which were covered with blisters and seeped fluid. His robe and the shirt beneath it were both torn at the shoulder. The frayed edges of the cloth were charred, and between them Severus could see that Pettigrew's shoulder also was burned.

"He did it!" Black jerked around and pointed at Severus. He looked positively wild: his normally smooth hair was more tousled than Potter's, and his eyes shone madly. "It was one of his spells; I've never seen anything--"

"You'll shut your face till I ask you a question, Black," said Ruskin. "Or I'll see you in detention till Christmas."

Black turned to him, ready to protest. But when he met Ruskin's eyes, he closed his mouth.

"It--it hurts," Pettigrew moaned. Ruskin gave him a cool, speculative look.

"He needs the hospital wing! I'm taking him there now!" Potter tried to Levitate Pettigrew, but Ruskin deflected the charm with a twitch of his wand.

"He'll get there," Ruskin said quietly. "Lupin. You're the Gryffindor prefect. Go on ahead to the hospital wing. Tell Madame Pomfrey what happened and that we're coming right behind you. Rabastan, you go with him. Make sure he doesn't embellish the facts too much."

"If either of them's likely to embellish facts, it isn't Remus," Black began, but Lupin shook his head at him, and Black said no more. Lupin turned at once and started off down the road.

Lestrange seemed oddly reluctant to leave. He stared at Pettigrew for another moment, then exchanged a glance with Ruskin. Only then did he follow Lupin.

Potter and Black fell to their knees beside their friend. Ruskin looked at Severus and gestured at the whimpering, writhing Pettigrew.

"Do you know how to counter this spell?" he asked.

Severus hesitated. He looked at Pettigrew. More blisters had popped up on his burns, and they were shinier than ever, with fluid seeping faster from the damaged skin. Tears squeezed out from beneath his tightly-shut eyelids.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Severus," Ruskin said softly. "I can't help you with the teachers unless you make it better somehow."

"Help him with the teachers!" Potter said, for Ruskin hadn't spoken softly enough. "You ought to help him get expelled!"

Ruskin ignored him. "Severus?"

"Yes," Severus answered. "I've worked out a counter, but I haven't tested it. I--I'm not sure what it will do."

Again Ruskin indicated Pettigrew. "Perhaps you should find out."

Under Potter and Black's suspicious glares, Severus stepped forward. Potter moved to shield Pettigrew with his body, but not before Severus saw Pettigrew clutching his hand in a white-knuckled grip.

Potter looked from Severus to Ruskin. "You two are up to something, aren't you? What are you really going to do to Peter?"

"Exactly what I'd like to know," said Black.

"Not that I care, but I'd get out of Severus's way if I were you," said Ruskin. "Unless you plan on Stunning your friend to put him out of his misery?"

Potter didn't answer. After a moment, he prised Pettigrew's fingers loose from his hand. He and Black reluctantly backed off.

Severus approached Pettigrew and knelt beside him. Pettigrew was trembling now, and still moaning, though more softly. Severus's stomach lurched uneasily. The Firewhip was certainly an effective spell.

Ruskin also drew closer. "My, my, Severus," he murmured. "What do you have against poor little Pettigrew?"

"Nothing, this time," Severus muttered back. "I meant to hit Potter."

"Ah, that makes more sense. But your spell went astray."

Gazing at Pettigrew, Severus brought to the forefront of his mind the Cooling Charm he had devised as a counter to Flammaflagrum: Refrigeratus. He waved his wand in broad, slow strokes a few inches above Pettigrew's burns.

A shower of what looked like tiny ice crystals burst from the end of Severus's wand and flowed over the burns which had ravaged Pettigrew's face, neck and shoulder. Severus held his breath. He had tested both the Firewhip and its counter on toads in the back garden over the summer, but he had no idea how a human subject would react.

Pettigrew's eyes popped open in seeming astonishment as the flow of ice crystals settled on his burned skin.

"What--?" he mumbled, staring at Severus. The lines of pain were smoothed away from his face and his body relaxed. Sighing deeply, Pettigrew closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the ground.

Meanwhile, the ice crystals appeared to melt into Pettigrew's skin. The seeping fluid dried up and the blisters disappeared. The angry red of the burns lightened slowly to pink. Severus realised he was watching the beginnings of healing: a thin layer of new skin was forming over the areas which had been destroyed by the burning tendrils of the Firewhip.

"Excellent, Severus, excellent!" Ruskin whispered eagerly.

"What's going on?" "What are you up to over there?" Black and Potter's demands tumbled over each other, creating a cacophony.

"Severus has worked his magic, that's what's happening," said Ruskin.

Severus stood up. "Let me see," said Potter, shouldering Severus aside as he and Black rushed over to Pettigrew.

Severus held his temper. He hadn't forgotten what Potter had said about expulsion. He didn't suppose that, for the likes of him, it was ever outside the realm of possibility, and to be expelled from Hogwarts was the very worst thing that could happen to him. So for now he kept his mouth shut and his wand pointed at the ground. He could always deal with Potter later.

"All right, then," said Ruskin, looking around. "I'm not going to ask what went on here--"

"It's obvious, isn't it" said Black loudly. "Snivelly here has put one of us in the hospital wing! Again!"

"If they hadn't ambushed me, it wouldn't have happened!" said Severus.

"Quiet!" Ruskin snapped, and silence fell. "I said, I don't need to know." He Levitated Pettigrew a couple of feet off the ground. "I'll let your Heads of House sort it out. I'm sure Pomfrey'll have plenty to say to them, once she lays eyes on Pettigrew."

Black and Potter followed Ruskin as he manoeuvred Pettigrew into the road. "We're going with Peter," said Potter.

Ruskin shrugged. "Suit yourselves." He looked over his shoulder at Severus, who was hanging behind, hoping he could go straight back to the Slytherin dungeon and escape Pomfrey's wrath, at least.

But it wasn't to be. "You'd better come too, Severus," Ruskin said. "Pomfrey will want to know all about that spell you threw at Pettigrew."

****

Potter and Black spent most of the journey back to the castle hovering over Pettigrew and casting murderous glances at Severus. But at least they were quiet.

"I don't want to hear it," Ruskin had said to them at the outset. "Not one word. If I do, McGonagall will be hearing from me."

Madame Pomfrey was waiting for them when they arrived at the hospital wing, with her arms folded tightly across her chest and a frown on her face. Lupin, who was standing behind her with Lestrange, hurried to join his friends at Pettigrew's side. Surprise crossed his face when he looked down at Pettigrew.

"So there you are." Madame Pomfrey strode forward, waving the Gryffindors aside. "Is that Pettigrew?"

"Yes, Madame," said Ruskin.

Pomfrey bent over Pettigrew, who was still peacefully asleep. Her frown eased. "Hmph! I thought he'd look worse than this, from the way Lupin and Lestrange were carrying on. Of course, I haven't examined him yet."

"Maybe you'd better," Black piped up. "Snape cast something else on Peter too, after the burning spell."

"Thank you, Black, but I don't need you to tell me my job." Frowning again, Pomfrey peered at Pettigrew, then waved her wand slowly up and down the length of his body. When she was done with her examination, she looked up, straight at Severus.

"I'm told you cast the spell that burned Pettigrew," Pomfrey said.

Severus glanced around. Everyone but Pettigrew was staring at him. Potter and Black looked hostile. Lupin seemed mildly anxious. But Ruskin and Lestrange regarded Severus with nothing less than fascination.

"Erm, yes," said Severus. "But Potter cast an insect jinx on me--"

Pomfrey cut him off with a gesture. "Lupin and Lestrange told me all about it. Did you cast the counter-curse too?"

"Yes," said Severus.

"Come with me," Pomfrey said, Levitating Pettigrew toward the bed nearest her office.

His stomach fluttering with apprehension, Severus followed Madame Pomfrey. Potter and his crew crowded behind him, trying to get close to Pettigrew.

"Could we come too?" Potter asked.

"Certainly not!" said Pomfrey. "Get back to your House. It's after dark. Surely you have homework to do?" Seeing their crestfallen faces, she added more kindly, "You can't do anything better for Pettigrew right now than let him sleep for the rest of the night. Come visit him tomorrow."

With much reluctant grumbling, Potter and Black agreed.

"Thank you for helping him, Madame," said Lupin.

Pomfrey met Lupin's eyes and gave him a brief smile. Lupin smiled back, then accompanied Black and Potter out of the hospital wing.

Pomfrey eyed Ruskin and Lestrange. "You, too. Snape can find his own way back to Slytherin House."

Ruskin's eyes moved one more time between Pomfrey, Pettigrew and Severus. "Yes, Madame," he said, motioning for Lestrange to follow him. "See you later, Severus."

****

Madame Pomfrey settled Pettigrew in the bed next to her office and looked at him in silence for several moments.

"Do you know something, Snape?" she said. "This is one of the Darkest curses I've ever seen cast at Hogwarts."

How could she tell? At that moment, Pettigrew looked no worse than many an injured Quidditch player Severus had seen taken off the pitch to the hospital wing.

"Your counter wasn't strong enough to mask the effects of your original curse," Pomfrey went on, uncannily answering Severus's unspoken question. "Lupin wasn't exaggerating when he said you blistered Pettigrew."

Severus said nothing. Pettigrew's face was still pink where the Firewhip had burned him, as though he'd been out in summer sunshine for an afternoon.

From the angle of the burns, it looked as though Pettigrew hadn't taken the full brunt of the Firewhip. Severus had aimed for Potter's chest. What would the Firewhip have done to Potter, if Potter's insect jinx hadn't knocked Severus off his feet?

"Where did you learn this spell?" Pomfrey asked. "I've never seen it before."

There was something in her tone that made Severus dismiss the very attractive possibility of lying to her.

"I invented it," he said.

"You invented it? You, a sixth-year--a curse as powerfully Dark as this one--?"

Severus raised his eyes to Pomfrey's face. She looked utterly astonished. She took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. "The counter-curse too? Did you invent that?"

"Yes, Madame."

"Well, thank heaven for that," Pomfrey said with evident relief. She looked back down at Pettigrew. "And you didn't do a bad job of it, either, though the counter's incomplete. What's the incantation?"

"Flammaflagrum."

"No, not that." Pomfrey made a face, as if the word itself repelled her. "I mean the incantation for the counter-curse."

"Refrigeratus."

"Ah, that makes sense. But your wand-work was probably insufficient. Here, watch me. I'll show you." Pomfrey murmured the incantation under her breath a couple of times. Then, falling silent, she traced a series of complicated spirals over Pettigrew's burned skin. The ice crystals flowed like a glittering trail of stars from her wand and melted into Pettigrew's skin. The redness disappeared. Pettigrew's face, neck and shoulder looked as good as new.

Pettigrew sighed softly as Pomfrey worked. But he never opened his eyes, and after Pomfrey was finished he was perfectly quiet again.

"There," Pomfrey said. "Neither a magical nor a physical trace is left of what you did to poor Pettigrew." She regarded Severus sternly. "But that doesn't mean I intend to forget it. I must naturally report the whole affair to Professor Slughorn."

It would only give Slughorn one more reason to dislike Severus. "What about Potter and his gang? They trapped me in an anti-gravity mist. Then Potter hit me with that insect jinx. It's his fault his friend was hurt! If Potter hadn't thrown me off-balance, the Firewhip never would've touched Pettigrew!"

"The Firewhip! Is that what you call it?" said Pomfrey.

"Well--yes," said Severus, realising too late that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Isn't that a nice name! Very descriptive, I'm sure. Don't you worry about Potter and his friends, Snape. They're Professor McGonagall's responsibility, not yours, and she'll hear about what they did. But I will say this: whatever they did to you, at least you're not lying in a hospital bed because of it. Now, off to Slytherin House with you!" she said, waving him away from Pettigrew's bed toward the door. "I've no doubt Professor Slughorn will want a word with you."

Severus left with his hands clenched in his robe pockets. He didn't doubt it, either. And Slughorn wouldn't see, any more than the rest of them did, how Potter provoked him into lashing out.

Oh, no, Severus thought. When Potter jinxed Severus, it was amusing and clever. When Severus reacted, it was Dark Magic. So what else was new?