Remus was moving at a sluggish rate back through the halls. His chest hurt and his stomach was roiling. He hadn't been this worried since Sirius fell through the veil and Harry began to spiral-downward into depression. Eventually Harry's own resilience and strong friends pulled him back from the abyss.
If Severus died he was sure he'd probably wind up secluded in the middle of some forest going mad until he was killed by some farmer after he mauled a flock of sheep. He didn't dare think of the fact that he would have no Wolfsbane ever again.
He stood staring blankly at the gargoyle for several minutes before McGonagall wandered by and stopped, looking at him curiously.
"Professor Lupin, are you quite alright?"
Remus blinked and couldn't quite muster up a smile for her. "I suppose I will be," he lied quietly.
Minerva didn't look convinced and gave him a cool, pinched frown as she stared. Lupin felt like a twelve year old boy under his Head of House's scrutiny. He couldn't handle her shakedown methods this morning however, and gave her a stiff nod. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak to the Headmaster."
"Of course," McGonagall nodded back, still staring after him even as he climbed the spiral staircase.
The door was ajar and before Remus could gather his chaotic thoughts, Albus swung it open. "Oh!"
"Remus, I was hoping you would come soon; please come in, come in." The Headmaster distractedly turned and paced to his desk. Remus noticed that the aged man had on mismatched socks. Apparently he was not the only one with a messy, preoccupied mind.
"Albus, Madame Pomfrey has told me some troublesome news--"
"Poppy has spoken to me already this morning," Albus turned toward him, eyes dim and face sagging.
"I was so excited," Lupin blurted. "We made amazing progress just last night with Severus' notes. We could have something consumable in a few days..." Remus rubbed at his face, horrified to find that his eyes prickled with heat.
"I am sure you are doing the best you can," Dumbledore sat down heavily into his chair and gazed at him with pity. "Unfortunately you don't have a few days or even a full twenty-four hours. You will have this evening and if not, Severus will be sent to Saint Mungo's by the morning."
"I'm trying my best," Remus blurted, biting his lip to keep from talking anymore. It seemed his internal censor was not working.
Albus rose from his seat and circled the desk, drawing Remus from his own chair and hugging him tightly. Remus sagged in his hold, struggling not to collapse into it. "You did not put Severus into this Hell, and you are a saint to struggle as you are. There is no reason to blame you Remus, and we are all thankful."
The Headmaster stepped back, holding Remus upright at arms length. Remus cleared his blurry vision with a careful blink only to gape in horror at the wet stain on Albus' robes at his shoulder. "I never hated him," he whispered, "I've certainly never wanted him dead."
"Gods willing, he won't." Albus smiled at him like a gentle grandfather. "Some good news for you, I hope: my good friend Roger Rowman has agreed to make your monthly Wolfsbane." Seeing Remus dubious look, he chuckled gently. "Rest assured he is more than competent, not quite Severus' level, but I trust him implicitly."
"Alright," Remus mumbled, unsure if he dared stomach someone else's Wolfsbane.
"I've learned what I needed, Remus, and unless you have nothing else to tell me I suggest you take a few moments to gather yourself before your classes."
Remus hesitated, nearly telling Albus all about what Lucius wanted him to do, but he blinked, and the moment was gone. "No. There's nothing else."
Dumbledore gazed unhappily at him before nodding sadly. "Very well. Try to have a good day."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Lupin left quickly to find something to preoccupy his mind before classes.
Albus stared at the wood-grain of his door. He knew there was something else, something horrific, but he wasn't about to interfere with Remus' dealings with Lucius Malfoy... but that was only if the mismatched pair managed to save his potions master.
After several minutes of contemplation, Albus pinched a bit of floo powder and tossed it into the low flames. "Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy Manor."
He stuck his head in the flames and was met by a timid house-elf. "Good morning," he smiled at the pitiful creature, "Might I have a word with your master?"
It nodded and popped out of his sight, only to return seconds later. "Mitzy is sending you to Master's study." It tossed a small bit of powder into the fire and Albus felt his head twirl about before he was gazing steadily out at Lucius' book cases and mahogany desk.
"Headmaster, this is an early hour for calling," Lucius gazed coolly down at him from his seat behind his desk, folded regally in a sapphire house-coat.
"Forgive the hour, Mr. Malfoy, but I have an urgent request." Albus didn't bother dredging up a smile for the man, he had serious news to deliver. "Severus is unwell."
A carefully manicured eyebrow rose into a delicate arch. "I know that."
"Yes, but what you do not is that Severus will soon be transferred to Saint Mungo's for treatment." Albus watched as cool acceptance formed a brooding glare on Malfoy's face.
"What do you want from me? An escort?" Lucius sneered delicately.
"What I would prefer, if you would be so inclined, is to continue the work that you and Professor Lupin have been doing to help. I was informed that you have made progress, perhaps if you could tinker during the day, when Professor Lupin arrives this evening you might be closer to a solution."
"Are you a fool," Malfoy hissed. "How dare you speak so easily of our dealings when anyone might be listening?"
Albus' gaze hardened, "Do not think me a fool, Mr. Malfoy. I know well enough that your floo network is highly guarded and more secure than Gringott's. If you fail to take up the task, Severus will be moved to the hospital by this time tomorrow morning."
Lucius was quiet in his angry brood, glaring at a spot on the wall that Albus could not see. Finally, the man's slate eyes slid back and he sniffed airily. "If I have the time, I may play around with the formula a bit."
"Thank you," Albus smiled genuinely. "Have a pleasant day, Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius snorted, "Good day, Headmaster."
Albus withdrew from the flames and brushed the soot from his beard. Lucius would do it. It was a near miracle if he had ever seen one.
Feeling much better, the Headmaster returned to his desk and began to start on the day's paperwork. He was engrossed for nearly half an hour when a small mumbled scuffle from the paintings drew his attention.
He smiled to himself and set down his quill. "Good morning, Manannan Mac Lir."
The Celtic wizard was frowning harshly at a former Headmaster as the man tried to push him from the frame. "Albus Dumbledore," he nodded in greeting, sighing happily as the owner of the painting crossed his arms and scowled as he acquiesced.
"What can I do for you today?"
"Master Snape has not been to his rooms in days," Mac Lir frowned deeply, leaning against the portrait frame. "I would like to know where ye have stashed him."
"Severus is currently in the hospital wing," Dumbledore said softly.
The ancient wizard stood straight at attention. "He is unwell." Albus nodded his agreement. "When will he return?"
"No time soon, I'm afraid," Albus sighed deeply and stroked his beard. "He is dying, Manannan."
The painted man scowled. "I would like to see him," he demanded.
Albus fought a smile. "I'm afraid there are no paintings in the infirmary for that reason."
"I beg yer pardon?"
"Take no offense, we just found it better to keep other paintings from wandering through and disturbing the ill."
Mac Lir sighed and removed his armored helmet. "Would you be averse to my visiting for a short time?"
"You are attached to him," Dumbledore smiled gently, feeling immensely proud to have chosen such a protective character for Snape's quarters.
"Aye," Mac Lir smiled back, "he and the lycan are the most interesting things I have seen in millennia."
Albus laughed outright, "That they are." He sat in pensive silence before nodding. "Very well. I will bring a small portrait to set on Severus' side-table. If Poppy has a problem, you will only have a short stay."
"Fair enough," Manannan still smiled wide, even as he replaced his helmet and offered the Headmaster--the current and the painted man he obstructed--a good day.
Albus set his work to the side and stood to go in search of a simple, elegant painting that would set nicely on Snape's bedside. He had to keep his priorities in order.
---
Severus stirred to consciousness by early afternoon. His mouth was dry and his left arm had fallen asleep, but other than that he felt normal--as normal as he had been for the past few days.
"Good afternoon, my boy," the Headmaster's lilting voice broke through his bubble of muzzy fatigue.
Snape turned his head until he saw Albus resting comfortably in the chair beside his bed-side table. A small framed portrait, 12 x 10 inches, sat behind his water glass. "Headmaster," he croaked, clearing his throat and sipping his water.
"Remus was by to see you this morning but found you resting."
"Lupin?" Severus came to attention, pushing himself up and resting against the headboard. "What did he want?"
Albus noted the muted interest. "He says that there has been progress with your medication, thanks to your notes of course."
"Good," Severus turned demanding eyes to the pile of books by his bed and sighed unhappily. Poppy had forbidden him from them. He didn't doubt she would confiscate them entirely if he so much as laid a finger on them. "Was that all?"
"My boy, I thought it would have been enough," Albus smiled brightly.
Snape grunted, discomfited that he hadn't had an opportunity to grill Lupin properly. He had a day before the wolf would leave to his doom. "He hasn't spoken to you, I take it."
The smile on Dumbledore's face faded, "No, I'm afraid not."
"And you haven't pried it out of him?" Severus fumed, glaring over at the Headmaster.
"It isn't my place, Severus."
"He's about to sell his soul," Snape growled, feeling his heart begin to pound with his growing anger. "He wants to use him! Lupin is going to kill a man, in the form of a wolf, all in the name of your Order!" The last word hissed viciously so that only the two men could hear.
"Severus, please, calm yourself," Albus demanded, trying to keep calm in the face of Severus' overwhelming anger.
"I refuse," Severus spat, clutching at his chest where his heart felt pinched violently in a vice.
Albus was standing over him, holding his shoulder and shocked with worry. "Poppy!"
The medi-witch came quickly and scowled between them. Albus backed off easily and watched with a heavy heart as Madame Pomfrey scanned over Snape's body and prodded at differing runes that glared with shades of red and scarlet.
"You must calm down immediately," Poppy scolded, sending a disgruntled look at Albus over her shoulder. She withdrew a small vial from her pocket and held it out for Snape to consume. He pushed it away with his free hand and snarled at her. "Severus Snape, you will drink this potion this instant or I will send for St. Mungo's immediately."
Color fell from Severus' face and he ceased to struggle. He numbly took up the drink as she poured it into his mouth. He blinked between Poppy's shamed face and Albus' shadowed one. "You're sending me to that quack house?" He mumbled through his stupor.
"Not right now," Albus sighed heavily. "But you may be there soon if Remus cannot polish your medication by tomorrow."
"You can't expect him to have it ready by then," Severus seethed, trying to calm himself down even as his analytical potions mind told him it was nearly impossible. Perhaps if a true potions master were working on the problem, but not Malfoy and Lupin.
"No," Albus spoke very quietly, "I do not."
"Right," Severus fell back onto his pillows and glared at the ceiling. Albus and Poppy spoke to each other but he ignored what they said to each other--even what they tried to say to him. After a length of time the Headmaster stood and left with a last lingering, wounded look.
Silence returned but no matter how tired Snape grew, he was too full of ire to rest. He fumed and boiled, struggling to let it go, but after many years of filling with rage and finding outlets outside of himself, he didn't have the skills to quail himself.
"It is refreshing to see sickness has not changed ye," a familiar voice quipped beside him.
Severus scowled and turned his head. The painting on his bedside table was of a low rolling hill in the middle of a morning-lit glade. Now, Manannan Mac Lir was sitting comfortably at the base of the hill, and Snape could just see the shadowed outline of Enbarr as the horse grazed atop it.
"Manannan Mac Lir," he said with slight surprise.
The portrait smiled and scratched at his beard. "Severus Snape," he replied with a soft laugh. "And now that we remember who we each are, perhaps I can help yer unease, yes?"
"Oh, and how will you do that?" Severus snorted, but none-the-less continued to watch the wizard and wait patiently.
"By a tale of course!"
Snape rolled his eyes to heaven, as though to seek strength, "Of course," he scoffed.
"Come now, 'tis a good one," Manannan sat up a bit and loosed pieces of his armor until he sat in comfort in his woolen garments with a pile of gleaming metal beside him. "This tale is called 'The Wolf who Knew how to be a Friend'. I'm sure ye've heard of it."
"Many times," Snape snorted again, knowing as with all Mac Lir's stories, this one too would have some moral he would have to decipher.
"Then I will tell it again for my own sake," the wizard smiled and reclined against the hill, scratching at his beard some more and gathered his thoughts. "There was, and yet there was not; there once was a man with three sons. The man owned a locked garden where his boys never set foot. After many years, the father called his sons together and told them about his secret garden. It seemed inside lay a tree that fruited only three apples each year, and every year before they would ripen, a thief would steal into the garden and take them. He beseeched to his sons to help him catch the thief so that just once he could taste the apples that were rightfully his."
"This has nothing to do with a wolf," Severus interrupted.
"Patience," Mac Lir waved an irritated hand at him. "Where was I... oh, yes. The man's sons agreed that each would take a night to guard and watch so that they might catch the one who took their father's apples. As it happens, the first and oldest fell asleep during the night and when he woke, only two apples remained. He confessed he slept and his father, though disappointed could not fault him.
The second son did as the first; trying in vain to stay awake during the whole night to catch the apple thief. He, too, fell asleep and woke to find only a single apple remained. The third son, and the youngest, learned from his older brothers and set out on the third night with a bucket of cold water. When he felt sleep try to take him, he splashed his face with the water and would be refreshed a time. As his water dwindled away, and very close to dawn-light, a dainty nightingale landed on the limb. He watched with calculating eyes as the bird picked and pecked up the branch to where the last apple lay. The young one lept up the tree and narrowly missed seizing the little thief, only coming away with two of the bird's tail feathers, and the apple gone in its beak."
"I think you've confused your stories," Severus mumbled, feeling drowsy as Manannan's soothing voice spoke.
"Never in my life," Mac Lir defended himself. "Listen and see. The boy ran and told his father of what happened, using the feathers in his hand as proof. The father again asked his sons to find his thief and set them off on their own. Before many days passed, the boys came to an impasse. The single road they stood on branched away into three separate roads. They easily chose a road each and cleverly left a pocket knife beneath a large rock, so that if one brother returned he could retrieve his knife and see if his own brothers had too been back.
The youngest son walked for many days and nights until one evening while walking through a forest as thick as any on the earth, he noticed a scrawny and bedraggled wolf was following him. Taking pity on the creature, he broke his bread in half and left a portion on the ground for it.
The wolf ate the meal and watched the boy with warmed eyes, for he had done what no other had ever done for him. He caught up with him and spoke, 'Don't be afraid, I would like to go with you and help you as you have helped me.'"
Severus cracked open an eye and chuffed out a rough laugh. "And your wolf speaks?"
"So does yours," Mac Lir told him with a stilted smile. He continued as Severus scowled, "As the two walked, they spoke of many things and the boy soon told the wolf about the nightingale he sought. 'I know this bird,' the wolf told him, 'and we are on the right path. If you do as I say, you will soon be over this business quickly.'
'I promise,' the boy told him, and together over a number of days they came to a castle. The wolf soon told the boy how to get his bird. He would enter the castle as a guest, and at midnight, the whole place would sleep. The boy could find his bird in a cage in the main hall, but he must take only the bird and not the cage.
Again, the boy promised and everything happened as the wolf said it would. At midnight, he found the bird in the hall, sitting silently in a cage of solid gold. He thought it a shame to take the bird and not the cage and seized both. As soon as the cage lifted from the hook, the whole castle woke to cries. 'The bird is stolen! The bird is stolen!'"
Manannan paused, staring at Severus' prone form and shook his head. After a moment, Severus cracked open one eye again. "That is your story?"
"I thought ye had fallen asleep," Mac Lir admitted. "Would ye like to hear more?"
"Like it would stop you," Severus grumped.
The painted wizard grinned and picked up where he had left off. "As it was the king soon came and told the boy he would be put to death for his attempt. 'Then kill your bird too!' The boy cried, telling his tale and showing his feathers as proof. The king fell silent in thought and told the boy if he might fetch the blue horse from a neighboring kingdom, he would forget the boy's transgression and give him the bird.
With a new path in mind, the boy returned to the wolf and told him what had happened. The wolf did not grudge him, because everyone was entitled to a mistake now and then. 'I know this horse,' the wolf told him, 'and I know how you might catch him, all you have to do is what I tell you.'
'I promise,' the boy said and they set away for the new castle. More days and weeks passed before they could see the castle in the distance. At length the wolf told the boy the way to catch his blue horse. 'Take it by the forelocks,' he warned, 'do not use the bridle.'
As night fell and the castle slept, the boy wandered to the stable and saw the regal blue steed standing unguarded. He took the horse by the forelock, but before he got far he saw a golden bridle laying unattended. Forgetting what the wolf told him, he picked it up, but before he could use it a cry rang out, 'The horse is stolen, the horse is stolen!"
"I'm seeing a pattern," Severus interrupted.
"Indeed," Mac Lir nodded. "Again, the boy found trouble with the king and after telling his tale the ruler thought and proposed a new deal. The boy found his wolf and told him what he had done. 'I can have the horse if I retrieve a princess called Red Girl from a neighboring kingdom,' the boy lamented.
The wolf shook his shaggy head but promised to help the boy as best he could. 'You must promise you will listen.' And the boy did. For months they traveled, sharing each others company and making progress until they found the castle in the distance. 'You must hide in the tree in the garden, Red Girl and her mother will come picking flowers and when she is done, as all women do, she will pause and turn to pick just one more flower. When she does, leap from the tree and catch her. I will wait on the other side of the fence for you.'
As it happens, the boy actually listened and he caught the girl just as the wolf had told him. The young lady was quite unhappy at first, but after hearing the tale and traveling with them for many weeks, she grew to befriend both the boy and his wolf.
When time came to give her to the king, they could not bear to leave her behind they took their horse and helped Red Girl escape at night. As they came again, at length, to the second castle they did the same thing and now the boy had the girl, the horse and his nightingale thief."
"Greedy little bugger," Severus sneered, watching Madame Pomfrey make her way toward his bed.
"Time for your medicine," she told him with a stern look.
"Yes, yes, hurry up," Snape snapped, irritated at the interruption. Though he refused to admit it, he wanted to know what Mac Lir was getting on about. Poppy looked affronted, but administered her tonics. She cast a wary glance at Mac Lir before scuttling off. "Continue," he told the portrait.
"Of course. Now the boy had all three and after more days and nights came to the same fork where he and his brother's split ways. He looked under the stone to retrieve his knife and saw that his brothers' knives were still there. 'My brothers are missing!' he cried. After some debate he left the girl and wolf behind to find them both.
He found the first a slave to a princess and challenged the young woman for him. After a lengthy game, he won his brother back. The princess was furious and demanded another game, but the boy won it too and took her with him as he searched for his oldest brother. The oldest brother was in much the same predicament, and freed his brother and gained a greedy princess in exactly the same way. He married each brother to their princess and met up with his friends the wolf and Red Girl.
The whole party started for home and along the way, the elder brothers conspired against the youngest. What humiliation awaited them if their father discovered the boy had gotten the thief, a steed, three princesses, and saved them both! An opportunity to save themselves came when they paused at a deep well.
The rope was not quite long enough, and the well was mostly dry. 'Come brother, you are the lightest,' they told the boy, 'we will lower you down and you can fill the bucket, then we might take you and the water out.'
Agreeing, the boy climbed down and as he reached the bottom his older brothers cut the rope and left him. They rode away with their wives and took Red Girl with them. The wolf remained and called down to his friend. 'I will help you! Stay still.' And he gathered sticks and straw to throw down the hole so that the boy would have a dry place to lay; even raiding a neighboring village of breads and fruit to feed his friend.
As luck would have it, the well sat very near a ledge. The wolf climbed down and began to burrow toward his trapped friend. For days upon days it fed the boy and dug until his pads bled and nails broke, his nose was scratched and his body grew thin. Finally, the wall of the well broke through and he was able to reach the boy."
Severus listened, mind a slow whir as the story went on. A bedraggled, unwanted wolf helping an overburdened young man, why was that vaguely familiar? He tried to ignore it and listened as Mac Lir went on.
"The boy had grown thin and sickly, dirtied and pale. The wolf took gentle hold of his shoulder and pulled him very carefully through the tunnel, digging here and there where the tunnel was too narrow for the boy to fit. They came to the free, open air before long and the boy lay in the sunlight too weak to move about.
The wolf stay with him, nuzzling his cheek and speaking quietly until the boy grew strong enough to gather himself. Weeks had passed that the boy had fallen, and his oldest brother had set Red Girl alone in a desolate house in town to keep her from telling the truth. The boy and wolf found her, curtains black with mourning. She wept for joy when she saw them both alive, if not well. She gathered clothes for her friend and told them her own story of sadness. The oldest brother had set her to be married that night to a friend of his that lived far away.
The wolf devised another cunning plan and they waited for the night. As the wedding started, he waited and entered without fail, making the boy wait beside the doors until he was ready. 'May I say a word or two?' he asked innocently to the stunned wedding party. Immediately both brothers called for the wolf's head, recognizing it as their brother's companion. The father stepped forward, never hearing a wolf speak before and told it to continue.
The wolf told the tale, of how the youngest son and gotten the nightingale, and all the rest, while the brothers had only done the greatest betrayal by trying to throw their brother to his death. At this moment, the youngest son entered, and his father was filled with love and sadness all at once.
'You are honest wolf, what shall I do to my eldest sons? Kill them?'
'No,' the wolf shook his shaggy head, 'let them live with their guilt. Their shame and knowledge of what they have done is punishment enough.'
'Then what shall you take for reward?' The father asked, 'Gold, jewels, silks, spices, chickens, geese--? What can I offer you for all the sacrifice you have made for my son?'
'None,' the wolf said, 'What I did was nothing, because I did it for a friend.'"
Severus sat in the ensuing silence and grumped silently. "That's it?"
"That is everything," Mac Lir admitted with a small grin.
"No large moral? No confusing ending?" Severus frowned, annoyed with Manannan.
"Isn't there?" The painting began to sort through his armor, clamping on various pieces. "I had hoped with a simpler story, ye might still understand even through yer illness."
"I have a heart problem, I'm not going feeble," Severus snapped. He scanned through the story, already forgetting pieces of the plot.
"Then use yer un-feebled brain and make the proper connections," Manannan grunted as he hefted his chest-plate in place and strapped it down.
"Lupin is the wolf, obviously," Severus mumbled, shooting looks at Mac Lir. "He is assisting a young man that's trying to complete a series of tedious tasks all for the respect and love of his father--" He stopped abruptly and glared over at Manannan. The wizard was now standing, completely encased in his gleaming metal armor again.
"Continue, please," Manannan smiled gently, "ye seem to understand so far."
"I'm quite through," Snape growled, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling away from the portrait to scowl at the wall.
Manannan Mac Lir called Enbarr to him and smiled fondly at the back of Snape's head. The potions master was clever enough to understand him well, Lupin would help him unflinchingly because he was his friend. And no matter what he may try to do to stop the wolf from leaving in the next evening to eat some unsuspecting Death Eater, nothing Snape could do or say would stop him. The lycanthrope was willing to do what he could in the name of their friendship and Severus' safety.