The preparations are set, arrangements are made, Severus has no choice...

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Chapter 35 - Of the Mind

Standing on the doorstep of number twelve Grimmauld Place, Severus produced his wand. He had observed the premises for a number of hours now, ensuring the house was empty. 'Alohomora,' he thought, and the door swung open for him silently. Nothing was certain, he would enter with caution and not allow himself to be caught by surprise if there was an occupant after all.

He made his way down to the basement kitchen, mindful not to make any noise with his footfalls as he went. The large wooden table stood in the middle of the room with its many chairs tucked neatly around it. Staring at it now, running his fingers gently along the wood grain, Severus remembered he had never felt welcome at this table, 'or even in this house, for that matter,' he thought, taking in the rest of the room with his careful gaze.

He had always been treated with suspicion and hostility, but there was little doubt that he had earned it with an enigmatic and shadowy past such as his own. Because of this, he had never had the desire to stay and have a meal with other Order members, not that anyone ever invited him to stay of course, but it was understood that every member could eat here if they wished. No, the others were just as glad to see the back of him as he was to leave, he knew it to be so.

Frowning at his own fickle and unexpected sentimentality, Severus reached into his robes and withdrew the bottle of completed Wolfsbane potion and placed it on the corner of the wooden table. The label clearly displayed the name of the contents of the bottle in his own small spidery writing. Severus turned the bottle slightly so that the label faced directly outwards. 'Lupin will need to have no doubt that the potion is intended for him,' Severus thought… 'or who has provided it.'

Severus fidgeted slightly, remorse tearing at his insides, 'How am I going to be able to live with myself after this?' his conscience reproached his traitorous motives.

'There is no other way,' he insisted silently, 'I do not have a choice,' he tried to convince himself, but knew deep down it was a futile attempt to allay his own guilt. He was inexcusably responsible for the ways in which he manipulated those around him to get what he wanted or needed, regardless of his justification. He was undeniably as guilty of treason as his own mind accused.

Severus licked at his dry lips and took in a sharp breath, very nearly snatching the bottle back, but instead he whipped around and hastily retreated through the kitchen door, up the stairs and out through the front door, his black robes swooping in his wake.

Once outside, he glanced back at the house and watched as it dissolved from sight. He began to question whether he needed to follow through with this at all. 'I have the location of the Dark Lord's horcruxes, I should just tip Lupin off to the attempt to capture him. It is time for me to get out of this.'

But locating the items was not enough and Severus knew it. They needed to be retrieved and subsequently destroyed. A task only likely achievable with his assistance from inside the Death Eater ranks. And Potter clearly needed as much help as was possible, given what he had observed of the boy three days previous. The boy was remarkably unprepared and unskilled to face the Dark Lord. There was very little chance he could actually win any one on one battle. Severus remained quite perplexed at how Potter had managed to survive this long, as it was. 'It must have been,' as Severus had suggested to Bellatrix over a year ago, 'due only to the teenager's astounding good fortune and the backing of more talented friends.'

Severus Disapparated, his mind now toying sarcastically with the idea that he had now become one of Potter's much more talented friends.

He entered his childhood home once again, striding purposefully to the liquor bottles in the corner of the room. He took up a glass, filled it with firewhisky and practically flopped down into his usual armchair, sloshing a tiny amount of the amber liquid over his hand and onto the worn fabric of the seat. He swapped the glass to his right hand and sucked the rivulets of alcohol off his skin. His tongue detected a smooth flavour, followed by a bitter aftertaste - somewhat similar to the situation he found himself in at this moment - agreeably taking the steps to end the reign of horror by Dark Lord, but in turn causing suffering and torment to many members of the light side, ironically himself included. He took a large swig from his glass, wishing he could release all self control and get blinding drunk, dulling all his feelings and dismissing all his worries - but he knew that would never be an option for him.

He sighed resignedly, resting the glass against his forehead, 'Sacrifice is noble, Severus - you keep telling yourself that…' he thought sardonically to himself.

Draining the glass, he dragged himself from the armchair and made his way to his bedroom. With all preparations set, Severus could afford himself an early retirement, the following evening will offer no such luxury as sleep.

He was there. He could hear him. The ragged breath of the creature no more than several metres away with only a thin wooden door separating it from him. Severus' heart was beating wildly and he felt a small tremor in his hand. He stilled it momentarily by clasping his fists together around his wand, then re-gripping the slender length of timber in his right hand, he held it ahead of him once more. He let out a silent but calming breath - the werewolf is safe, the potion has been consumed, the empty bottle lay discarded on the floor within the dark man's view. He was safe, Severus was sure - but still his body betrayed him, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the tremor returning to his outstretched hand.

He crept toward the door and pushed it gently, testing to determine whether the hinges would make a sound. He heard no noise, so pushed harder to swing the door ajar further… just enough so he may squeeze through.

Through the darkness he spied the creature, it's hair matted and dirty. It was curled in a ball in the darkest corner of the room, occasionally grunting in discomfort, its breathing still laboured. Severus manoeuvred himself silently until he had the werewolf in his full sight and fixed a sneer on his face, his eyes glittering.

"It's time," he spoke quietly to the beast.

The werewolf jumped immediately to its feet, startled at the Wizard's presence. It snarled at Severus, and suddenly lifted its head and gave the most blood-curdling howl the dark man had ever heard.

Severus took an involuntary step backwards before he managed to gather his nerve once more. The door through which he had just come made a squeak as it was opened behind him. His eyes only left the creature for a moment, as he turned his head behind him to identify this new threat, but when he discovered the room mystifyingly empty, other than himself and the beast of course, he flicked his gaze back to the creature - only to find it gone.

Scanning the room frantically for the deadly animal, Severus instantly discovered the shadowy passageway directly in front of him. The werewolf must have retreated into the darkness. The dark man made steps to follow the creature, both knowing he was at a disadvantage because of the darkness and the lack of knowledge about where the passage led. Nevertheless he pushed forward into the blackness, stretching his free arm out to the passage wall. For many metres it was smooth, but then abruptly it became rough and damp. His senses sharpened in the darkness, allowing him to hear a faint trickling of water from far away and a musty scent filled his nostrils. 'Where in Merlin's name did this passageway lead?' he thought, pausing mid-step, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Severus felt entirely vulnerable without adequate vision, and instantly decided he needed to rectify the problem, igniting the tip of his wand silently. The rough walls were quickly identified as rocks and earth. He was in a underground tunnel and occasionally his outstretched fingers had brushed through the small rivulets of leaking ground-water which ran down the walls and puddled at his feet. His rapidly growing alarm now placated slightly by the ability to see, Severus continued to move forward in the tunnel.

He suddenly heard scratching noises up ahead accompanied by low rumbling growls. He held his wand out further from his body, lifting it slightly higher so the light it cast may extend in front of him a greater distance. His breathing came in more rapid gasps as his fear peaked once more. 'He is safe, he has consumed the potion,' he reminded himself, though with less certainty now that the empty bottle was not in his sight.

The low growls turned suddenly into frightening snarls and the scratching became violent and desperate, then he was suddenly snatched backwards by a forceful wrench on his collar.

"We've got to get out of here!" yelled a desperate voice that Severus recognised as achingly familiar.

"Move, MOVE!" the voice screamed, urging him backwards helped along by the strong tugging on his collar again, which then moved to his arm.

Severus tried to turn, to confirm his shocked recognition of that voice. 'How is this possible?' he thought stunned. But as he swung around, a deafening crash and splintering of timber, followed by a terrifying howl from the werewolf so close behind him, plummeted him into rapid action, scrambling with desperate terror away from the savage beast. 'The potion has not worked!' he thought in panic, now pushing the body in front of him with frantic impatience, trying to put as much distance between himself and the monster as quickly as possible. His wand had extinguished, but he grasped the length of timber frantically in his fist in case he should need it instantly.

The two figures blindly ran through the darkness, and at one stage Severus faltered on the slippery and uneven terrain, tripping as his foot caught under an exposed tree root. He fell heavily, knocking his head severely on a rock that was jutting out an excessive distance compared with the rest of the lining of the tunnel wall. A little dazed, he struggled frantically to find his footing once more, and thankfully found desperate hands yank him to his feet. He felt the warm trickle of what must be blood roll down the side of his face. The pounding of his pulse at his temple was now accentuated by the painful throb as a result of his head injury.

Another howl close behind him spurred him on to run again, those hands pulling and assisting him through the narrow twisting pathway ahead of him. Through his terror, he was barely aware of his deep gratitude for the hands that were guiding him. His head was now spinning and he was struggling merely keeping himself upright, let alone navigating efficiently through the difficult passageway.

"Nearly there! Faster, come on!" coaxed the voice, and Severus glanced up at the owner of that voice in time to see a familiar invisibility cloak slide from a teenager's head of messy black hair, revealing...

"Potter… James?" Severus breathed, coming to an abrupt halt, stunned at the presence of his schoolyard nemesis.

He blinked in disbelief at what he was seeing, but when he looked again, it was not James Potter helping him, but Peter… Peter Pettigrew… Wormtail!

An ear piercing howl emitted from directly behind him, and when he turned in alarm, he discovered their pursuing monster was now only inches from him. The werewolf's putrid breath engulfed Severus as, with a horrifying snarl, the beast lunged at his throat…

Severus woke up with an anguished and terrified holler, his arms flailing wildly. He jerked himself into a sitting position in panic, shaking uncontrollably and drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breath ragged and entirely out his control. He screwed up his eyes as he gasped small moans, his mind gradually identifying the disturbingly vivid images as being merely a dream… a nightmare. Relief began to wash over him, but he knew it would take many minutes to recover from this subconscious fright. The images were now replaying within his mind, the detail so unbelievably vivid he actually had to fight hard to resist the prickle of distressed tears building in the back of his eyes.

He breathed deeply through his nose, throwing back his bed covers and pushing himself to his feet, and after pacing for several moments, he leaned against the nearest wall, resting his forehead against the smooth, cool surface. He abruptly cursed out loud and pounded his fist on the wall in anger and frustration at his own mind's torment of itself.

'Why in Merlin's name would I dream of a dead man? A long since dead man, at that!' he thought brutally. The werewolf he could understand, and even the presence of Wormtail, but why was Potter Senior a part of this scenario?

After a moments consideration, he concluded that it was probably just mere coincidence. Potter had been involved in the traumatic incident involving a werewolf, the werewolf, in Severus' youth, after all.

He cursed loudly again, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, taking in another deep breath and expelling it with a shudder.

Above all Severus had experienced in his life, that incident in the tunnel beneath the Whomping willow in his sixth year was by far the most terrifying he had ever had to endure. He didn't think he had ever come as close to death, especially in such a brutal manner, as that night, confronted so intimately by a full-grown werewolf. Perhaps it was because of his age at the time, or perhaps it was just the nature of the attack, but Severus would never truly understand why it affected him so much. The memories had given him nightmares for years afterwards, before he had learned to suppress them with Occlumency. But now, to have those images rear themselves again, after all these years, connected so closely with events about to take place in his life, was deeply unsettling for the dark man.

If he at any moment had any excuse for doubt about his present course of action, it would be right now. But should he chalk this incident up as a genuine warning, or merely the paranoia brought on by a previous bad experience?

Severus chuckled ironically at the idea of a branch of Divination - premonition - even being considered by him; given the disdain he held for the practice… prophecies aside, that is, remembering the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney that had thrust him into this mess in the first place.

The emergence of his dry humour suggested he was slowly recovering from the scare, so he made the few steps to his bed and collapsed into it, dragging the covers over him as he reclined. It was still dark, he should try to get more sleep, he would need it for tomorrow night when he would re-enact his nightmare scenario for real, preferably this time, minus the appearance of James Potter (or any Potter for that matter) and the revelation that his perfectly brewed Wolfsbane Potion was rendered inactive for some unknown reason. He rolled onto his side and using his skills, soothed his mind and relaxed his body so that no more than fifteen minutes later, he was drifting once again into a deep sleep. Isn't Occlumency remarkable…

The peeking of light through his bedroom window roused Severus the next time. 'A much more pleasant fashion in which to wake,' he thought snidely, but then his mind betrayed him when he remembered just what exactly he would hope to achieve before the chiming of midnight this evening.

'Sacrifice, Severus, sacrifice…' he reminded himself once more. With a snort he acknowledged his reasoning was flawed, no matter what kind of spin he put on it. Instead, he wiped his thoughts from his mind and went about preparing himself for the day, fretting occasionally over the details, but never allowing his mind to dwell on the victim.

Lucius, Rodolphus and Bellatrix arrived precisely on time, and after a quick discussion confirming the plan, the five of them (including Wormtail) took up their positions when Severus Apparated them, via means of side-along-apparition, to the street adjacent to Grimmauld Place.

Severus had made the assumption fairly safely that Lupin had already entered the house, not leaving any chance that he may be delayed before nightfall and have his transformation occur outside a secure location and endanger the public. Severus scoffed, 'Lupin had always been the responsible type.'

As it were nearing dark now, any Order members who had accompanied Lupin (if any had) would have made their leave by now. Customarily, Lupin would have locked himself in with magic - Severus knew this, as it had been the Werewolf's practice whilst he were teaching at Hogwarts. Werewolves in their transformed state, even under the influence of Wolfsbane, were unable to wield magic, therefore it was impossible for the beast to escape with the exception of force - unless, of course, someone else were to unlock the door; cue Severus.

The dark man would then proceed to lure the creature out onto the street where, with the assistance of the other Death Eaters, Severus would subdue and restrain him. It was likely to take two or three of them to accomplish this, as werewolves were traditionally very strong and resilient beings, much like giants.

The danger was that although Lupin would have consumed the Wolfsbane Potion and have control of his own mind, he was still very much a dangerous creature. His strength, resistance and most importantly his transforming bite, would be unaffected by the Potion. This was the distinction that Bellatrix had failed to correct Severus on when he first revealed his plan. Lupin would be a wolf as harmless as his own mind allowed him to be, and no more.

The five Death Eaters waited until darkness descended before they took up their final positions guided by Severus and waited tirelessly for the moon to materialise. It rose into the sky unnoticed at first, hidden behind some dense clouds, but as soon as Severus witnessed the full rounded glow of the orb, he nodded his intentions to the others and approached the house…