Spies Wolves and Scars

Chapter 2: A Kind of Peace

Snape had kept his distance, his eyes darting. He watched curiously as the wolf in Lupin struggled against the powers his grandfather had channelled into his last surviving portrait.

Then it happened; Severus's very worst suspicions came true.

The portrait bulged. A lump was forcing itself out from the red, dripping canvas. It was shaped like a fist at first, just at Lupin's eye level, but then it furrowed into a terrible, bloodied face, its jaws stretching open.

Snape backed off, pointing his wand as Desmodus' head broke out through the red screen. Lupin gave out an alarmed snort as the face, pale as Severus's, but sharper and deeply ridged, lunged predator-like at his neck. Lupin snatched back at him with bared teeth, yelping loudly. Growling, he shot a furious look at Snape. It wasn't working.

Snape swept forward and dragged the wolf off the canvas. Desmodus hissed angrily as Lupin collapsed to the floor, chest heaving, his mouth still pulled back in a defensive snarl.

'That, Severus, was meant to be for you!' spat the portrait furiously.

'It...has...no effect,' panted Lupin, wincing. 'Just...need to...calm...the wolf...'

'Yes, yes, one curse of the blood cannot override another, I know!' snapped Desmodus savagely, his eyes flashing. 'But, I just couldn't let, a sleeping dog lie...'

Snape lowered himself into his chair. He was eerily silent, and the glittering in his eyes had dulled somewhat. He had never escaped the first of April unhumiliated, ever. First his family, then the Marauders, then his pupils. Now everything had come full circle, on the same morning.

He looked up to find a calculating Desmodus eyeing him.

'Now - Severus,' whispered the portrait softly. 'As that little confrontation has quietened you down a bit, I think it is about time we should smooth out the little animosities, become known to one another again, find and know a new peace.'

Snape's eyes seemed to flash at the last word. He stood up.

'But I am the little animosity, aren't I, grandfather?' he spat back viciously. 'The only pureblood of the Snape's who wasn't cursed with your Fledermaus legacy. Your 'peace' will always be disgusting to me!'

These sudden, angry words made Lupin start. They had struck a distant chord; they had come up before, somewhere, maybe 1800's, History of Magic. Being connected with the Fledermaus legacy was bad news. Lupin was hardly surprised the Potions' Master never used to shout his Heraldry about like the usual Slytherin.

Snape caught the look on Lupin's face. Instantly his guard was up.

'No Lupin, there cannot be any more secrets now!' he hissed defensively. 'Just another little cumbersome secret I am forced to keep.' A cruel sneer began to curl the corners of his mouth. 'I suppose then it was only fair you should get a little...beaten about...for discovering my burden. Considering, of course, that when I found out yours, you nearly tore my leg off with your rabid teeth!'

'Well, well Severus!' chipped in the portrait, smirking. 'At least you can hold the bitter grudges as proudly as any Snape! However,' he continued more threateningly, 'the scathing disrespect for your great grandmother has killed any short-lived pride I might feel for you!'

Lupin sighed wearily as the proximity of two Snapes took its toll on his patience. He decided to chance a comment.

'Severus, surely it has come to the point that we should stop the battle, agree to a truce?' Lupin wheezed hoarsely, trying to sit up.

'Submission? From a wolf?' cried Desmodus, smirking incredulously. 'Oh, I am entertained. Now if only that had happened in my lifetime, eh, Severus?'

Severus, it appeared, didn't fancy answering either comment. His expression was unreadable. Desmodus' eyes narrowed, and the skin on his forehead began to ridge up again in mounting fury.

'Is this the future of the bloodlines? The impotency and inferiority that is slouched before me?!' he spluttered angrily. His pale fingers flexed, as if he felt like throttling something.

Snape stared back up into Desmodus's eyes. Now he could hear his grandfather's voice whispering in his head.

'Blood, the reason there is life. If you won't heed me, listen to it! Listen to its whispers, unlike hearts and minds, Severus, the blood never lies...Despatch the wolf, and give up the deceit.'

Snape broke eye contact. Desmodus was right, that inner feeling that knew no reasons or boundaries, and never lied, was the blood, and Desmodus willed him to submit to it.

He hated wolves; that was undeniably true. But deeper than that, ran the boiling wrath for his family line, the vileness, which was stamped on him at birth, and forever marked him by name. But he knew full well that to reject it all was to suffer continually. He could gain this 'peace' now, if he just allowed himself to be bitten...

White lipped, Snape stared at his grandfather, whose face was still transformed and pale. Then he glanced at Lupin crumpled weakly on the floor, the yellow tinge still fading from his eyes.

Not taking his eyes off of Lupin, Snape spoke in a barely audible whisper. 'My blood has already decided, Desmodus.'

There was a silence, wherein the elder's face smoothed to more human features, and smirked. Snape began to glance around the room.

'Well?' the portrait purred expectantly.

'I was always in awe of your resourcefulness, Desmodus,' said Snape suddenly, his mouth spreading into a thin smile. 'I've often considered having a portrait done. If I prove my allegiance, maybe you could tell me how you managed to work the anti-inferno charm into yours?'

The portrait eyed his grandson intently, as if it was unsure whether to trust him or not. He must have liked what he found, though, as he returned a lop-sided grin.

Lupin shot an alarmed look at both of them; to watch Snape smile was very unnerving. To watch two hinted at a conspiracy.

Cautiously, Snape stretched out his arm onto the desk behind him, and began to feel for something with his fingers.

Lupin went deadly pale, he had seen a silver letter opener lying on Snape's desk when he came in. The Potions Master carried it about with him, and always made a perverse effort to open his post with it in the Werewolf's presence.

Desmodus' eyes glinted. Snape's fingers had stopped searching, and his cold, emotionless eyes had come to rest on Lupin's face.

It happened extremely quickly. As Snape whirled himself backwards over the desk, and grabbed at something on the wall, Lupin growled, shot back to the fireplace, and was gone in a roar of green flame.

But Snape had hardly noticed where Lupin had gone, the burning torch he had pulled from its holder was already pointing threateningly at the picture frame.

'YOU CHOOSE TO BETRAY YOUR OWN BLOOD!?' the portrait shrieked, fangs fully bared, its mad, black eyes flashing.

'You are quite wrong,' said Snape coolly. 'I am heeding it, and have always heeded it. All those strange, freakish, anomalous, halfbreed whispers...'

Desmodus's snarl at this word was cut short as his grandson thrust the flames closer to the canvas. Severus's eyes gleamed madly. 'I am merely itching to know, grandfather, whether your little anti-inferno charm is one big lie. I think that fire in this case, will prove the perfect lie detector.'

'Take that thing away from my face, or I will flee this frame, and you will never find me again!' Desmodus warned, his voice quavering shrilly.

'Feeling a bit hot under the lacquer, Desmodus?' came the amused tone of Albus Dumbledore from behind.

Snape merely twitched with irritation, and narrowed his eyes. This was his argument!

'I am actually, Professor Dumbledore,' replied Desmodus smoothly, trying to look as if he wasn't too rattled by the sudden intrusion. 'So, could you please tell the pyromaniac to point his torch away from my general direction?'

'Severus, please DO continue to point the torch in Desmodus' general direction,' instructed Dumbledore coolly.

'Of course, Headmaster.'

Desmodus managed a half-hearted sneer at both of them, and then spat bitterly into the portrait's foreground.

Dumbledore smiled at the picture. 'It has been some time since we met, has it not, Desmodus? I had an inkling a picture or two of yours may have survived Severus's onslaught.'

'Simply marvellous!' thought Snape, his eyes now slits. 'The Headmaster of Hogwarts, knowing anything and everything, as per usual.'

'In fact I do recognise that frame. If I am not mistaken it belonged to an old mirror, which used to stand in one of the North Tower classrooms long, long ago...'

'It was a mirror, until I came to Hogwarts, Dumbledore!' sneered the picture. 'Now, if you'll excuse me...'

The figure in the picture made a sudden abrupt movement, and dashed to the edge of the frame, black cape flying out behind him. Snape thrust the torch at the canvas. Suddenly, the flame extinguished itself with a loud hiss. Snape scowled, the anti inferno charm had been more than a gloat, after all.

There was a sudden yelp of surprise, and pain. Snape's eyes darted to the edge of the frame; Desmodus had tried to exit the canvas, but had collided with an invisible wall. He got up and ran to the other edge. His eyes grew wider; this side too, was barred. He clawed his black hair back with a snarl.

'Would you like to keep him, Severus?' enquired Dumbledore with a slight smile. He had more than a faint idea of the reaction.

If looks had the ability to kill, both Desmodus and Severus Snape's would have struck the Headmaster stone dead. But Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle with amusement.

'Dear, dear,' he thought, 'a double helping of Snape family affability. Both in black, the same scowls too: Dare I make a comment on how alike they are?'

'He bites, Headmaster,' Snape muttered coldly.

'Bites?' Dumbledore frowned, seeming surprised for a moment. Then his eyes twinkled. 'Ah - I see !' he chuckled to himself.

Snape watched Dumbledore's change of expression with contempt. Of course he would smile at this. He could always make a joke out of anything. Well then, he could give him humour...

'As much as I revere the pleasure of indulging in nostalgia, Headmaster,' muttered Snape softly. 'I must, point, out that I would hardly consider it a, sharp move, to leave my old bat of a relative, hanging around, with his taste in food -'

'More than enough subtlety, Severus,' cut in Dumbledore brusquely. 'I am very sorry, but I have become so used to your...er...own mannerisms, that...'

The Potions Master stiffened. The old wizard wasn't smiling anymore, but Snape was certain that slight twinkle in his eyes continued to mock him. His dark eyes gleamed dangerously. 'I...have...nothing...in...common -'

There was a sudden whooshing noise and an explosion of ash from the fireplace. A person crawled awkwardly out of it, coughing, and wheezing.

'You again!' spat Desmodus. He had given up trying to escape his frame, and had sat down.

Snape's left eye twitched. Setting aside the fact that he was, of course, completely covered with a film of pungent ash, three of life's four greatest irritations were now cluttering up his quarters, all of them without so much as an invitation. Only Potter left to complete the set.

Lupin straightened up, and gently held out a book to Snape, who lowered an eyebrow.

'Anti-inferno charms and counter charms, Professor,' explained Lupin. As Snape snatched the volume off him, Lupin reached into his cloak, and held out another piece of parchment, tentatively. 'And this, Severus, is a means where I can offer you a valuable service. If you'll allow me to,' he added quietly.

Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the scroll, as if it was yet another Marauder trick.

Lupin sighed. 'The others saw the portrait, Severus, but they never suspected Desmodus was anything...other, than a dark wizard. I could...sense it, of course. But I never ever told them. Never could tell anyone. You will understand why, I hope?' he trailed off.

Snape stared searchingly at Lupin in silence, black eyes unreadable, his lip beginning to curl.

'What exactly is the meaning of this, Lupin?' he hissed.

'It's past midday, Severus,' said Dumbledore softly.

Snape's curiosity got the better of him. He reached out cautiously and took the parchment. He opened it at arms length, throwing wary glances up at Lupin, and only moved it closer to read when he was sure it hadn't been tampered with. He arched one eyebrow once or twice as he read, but didn't sneer. The others watched him, apprehensively.

'Doing deals with Werewolves now, Severus?' came a mocking voice from across the room.

Still reading the scroll, Snape reached inside his robes for his wand, pointed it lazily over his shoulder and flicked it once, making the arras flop back down over the portrait in a dusty cloud.