Child of the Dark Moon

by Sw-0608

Fleeing from Dudley and the 'Harry-hunters' under a full moon, Harry Potter saves his hated cousin from a giant wolf and is nearly killed. Severus Snape comes upon the bloody body not ten minutes later and takes the child into his home, against his better judgment. Can Snape come to terms with the vulnerable boy and help him to adapt to being a werewolf? (Manipulative Dumbledore)

11. Chapter 11: Always

Rated T for descriptions of child abuse

(Disclaimer: don't own, never will, don't plan to. Just doing it for fun.)

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Chapter 11:Always

Harry was scared again. After all of his promises to himself that he would be responsible and obedient, he was acting like a baby again, clinging to the Professor's leg like a complete wally. The doctor was a nice looking lady, but Harry had long ago learned to worry about the nice looking ones. She was grabby and smiley like the nasty nurse from his school. But get them alone in a room and she would start the scowling and mean words, and she would threaten to send a note home if he didn't want to take off his shirt or sit still … Professor Snape didn't know that, though, and he kept telling Harry that it was alright, that it was safe.

The Professor tugged him along gently and they followed the plump, smiling lady back across the big room between all the beds to a curtained-off area. The lady-doctor pulled aside the curtain and bustled in, while the Professor stopped right where the curtain opened. Harry peeked in, struggling against the urge to grab the Professor's cloak again and hide. There was an exam table, (he knew what that was) and a sort of work desk next to it with drawers and a cabinet above it, just like in the nurse's office at Primary School. Harry swallowed hard again and trembled with fear. The Professor must have noticed because he moved his hand again and reached over to pat his good shoulder gently. He was grateful that the man always remembered which shoulder was the one that still hurt. Harry looked up at the Professor and tried not to look as frightened as he felt.

"C-can you s-stay with me, please?" he whispered, unable to stop his voice from shaking.

The man looked startled at first, but he suddenly smiled, and almost smirked. "You thought I'd let you out of my sight?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head. "I was planning on fighting you for the right to stay nearby."

Harry blinked in surprise, and his eyes suddenly burned. He was grateful, but he really hoped that he wouldn't start crying. "Thanks," he whispered, managing a wobbly smile. "You … won't let her hurt me?" he added fearfully, glancing at the lady opening a drawer and pulling some kind of folded cloth out.

"She would never hurt you, child," the Professor said gently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "But I will stay with you and keep you safe. Nothing bad will happen. I promise."

Harry nodded. He doubted anything would happen if the Professor insisted on staying with him, but he just hoped the lady wouldn't chase him out. The Professor was so nice that he probably would just go if she told him to.

The lady turned around and smiled kindly. Her brown eyes sparkled and Harry felt his suspicions melting just a bit. She did seem really nice. "Harry? Do you know what this is?" She held up the cloth and shook it out, revealing a sort of big shirt with ties in the back.

Harry tilted his head curiously at it. "It … looks like a painting smock, ma'am," he said as politely as he could manage with a wobbly, scared little voice.

"It does look like that, doesn't it?" she chuckled without a trace of mockery. She held it out and showed him the ties. "It's actually called an exam gown. I'll need you to step behind the curtain here and take off all your clothes, then put this on. You can call me back in when you're decent, alright?"

Harry gulped and shuddered, shrinking against the Professor's leg again. When Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia made him take off his clothes, nothing good followed. Why should he take off all of his clothes for a stranger? He looked up desperately at the Professor, who was looking back down at him with no expression on his pale face.

"Do I have to?" Harry whimpered, hating how small and petulant his voice sounded. He immediately blushed at how babyish he was being. But the idea of undressing here in this strange place made his skin crawl.

"Harry," Professor Snape said in a very serious voice. "Can you tell me why you don't want to undress? It is alright, but you must help me understand."

Harry shuddered again. He wanted to say, to explain how Uncle Vernon used to punish him or Aunt Petunia liked to humiliate him … but the part of his heart that was determined to be obedient and responsible asserted itself. He wasn't going to be a stupid little coward about this. He wouldn't be a baby. He took a deep breath and shook his head shamefully in answer to the question. The Professor had promised that he would keep the lady from hurting him … Harry realized that he would just have to trust him. He had trusted the Professor so far, and the man had not let him down yet. This morning's debacle was his own stupid fault, not the Professor's. He could continue to trust. But it was the hardest thing he had ever done, taking his sweaty little hand out of the Professor's big, strong hand and stepping away from the safety of his cloak and his sturdy leg. Even though Harry knew he'd been being a big baby about the whole thing, the man hadn't protested once, nor had he mocked him or pushed him away when he grabbed the Professor's leg or cloak for protection. Surely that meant he would be nice and would stay with him even though he was scared.

Harry stepped behind the curtain, took the weird shirt/smock from the lady, and waited while she stepped out and pulled the curtain closed. Harry gulped. At least she was letting him have privacy while he undressed. He blinked hard and scrubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, determined not to cry. With shaking fingers, he set the 'exam gown' on the table and started unbuttoning his shirt.

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"You've undressed him before?" Madam Pomfrey whispered as soon as the curtain closed. "Did he react like this?"

Mutely, Professor Snape shook his head. To be honest, the child's whole reaction to the Infirmary setting (and to the medi-witch in particular) was most disturbing. He flicked his wand, casting his special muffliato charm around them to keep anyone from eavesdropping, but they would still be able to hear anything important, like if someone entered the Infirmary or Harry started freaking out.

"His entire reaction to this is unlike anything I've seen in him before," Severus growled. "But he had a similar reaction when he met Minerva. Perhaps … he has had unpleasant experiences with older women?" He didn't really think that was the case, but he could think of nothing else. Most older women he knew liked children.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly. "I heard him ask you … beg you, rather, to stay with him. What gave him the impression that he would be alone?"

"His relatives did not take care of him, Poppy," Severus snapped. "Of course he was afraid of being left alone." He did not mean to be so curt, but he was worried and frightened for the child. Why was Harry so terrified of simply undressing and changing into an exam gown? And then the boy's fear wasn't all; Harry had rather quickly steeled himself to comply. Was that a worse sign? That he was terrified to death, yet he obeyed anyway? That was potentially … disastrous. He shivered all over with rage and fear for the child. Had he been … abused in the worst way before? If so, he was going to kill the Dursleys …

"I'll be quite thorough, Severus," the medi-witch said gently, as if reading his thoughts. "But there might not be anything to worry about there. Perhaps he is simply modest."

"He did react when I meant to strip him before with Minerva in the room," Snape commented slowly, going back through his memories of the boy in the last week. "He tore some of his wounds open running away from the two of us, and I had to take the rest of his clothing off … He seemed rather … frightened. But when Minerva left the room, he relaxed."

"I've never heard of a woman perpetuating that type of abuse," Madam Pomfrey said grimly. "But I don't keep up with the latest news on muggle criminals. He does seem comfortable with you. That is something at least."

Severus shrugged. He supposed that was a good sign. Maybe it was women Harry had learned to fear, not men. That would be odd, but at least it would make it a little easier for him to tease things out of the boy later. Harry likely would need a mind-healer, and if he wasn't completely terrified of men, Remus Lupin would be able to reach the boy better than Snape would.

"How deep a scan are you planning to do?" Severus suddenly asked.

The plump woman sighed, knowing his reaction. "You know with children we suspect of being abused, I have to do the deepest scans I can."

"He is still recovering from a werewolf infection," Severus growled. "The extra scans will make him very uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than normal, I mean."

"I know, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said sympathetically. "I'm afraid it can't be helped. Though, I've found it helpful if someone can distract the patient for the twenty minutes it takes for me to run the scans. The discomfort becomes worse the more one focuses on it."

"I'll do my best," the Professor didn't have very much hope in his comforting abilities, but he was a Slytherin. He would be able to distract the boy if it was the last thing he did. It was odd, how thinking of Harry made something rise inside him that he didn't know he had. Fierce protectiveness. Grief-ridden compassion. Something else he refused to name because it would confirm that he had become attached to the boy. Why was he having such a strong reaction to Potter's brat? He needed to stop falling head over heels for the boy, that's what he needed. With a huff of annoyance at himself, Severus canceled the muffliato, sensing that three or four minutes ought to have been enough time for a child to undress and put the gown on. Madam Pomfrey nodded at him and they stepped back up to the curtain.

"Harry, dear?" she called out gently. "Are you ready?"

There was a soft, muffled reply, but both adults, with ears sharpened by years of experience with shy, mumbling children, deciphered the words as 'yes ma'am', and they slipped into the little curtained area. Harry was standing by the exam table, his clothes neatly folded on the foot of the padded table. He looked pale and nervous, but there was no trace of tears in his emerald eyes.

"I couldn't tie it," the boy whispered softly, looking at Severus rather than Poppy. His hands fluttered nervously at the loose collar of the gown. Even though it was a very small size, it still dwarfed his tiny frame, and the hem which should have stopped just below the knees, nearly came to his ankles.

"Would you like my help?" the Professor asked quietly. He was careful to keep his voice low and soothing. It was imperative that Harry be as relaxed as possible for the magical scan. Harry nodded, and Severus went over to the child. Pomfrey kept a respectful distance, and in fact, she busied herself with potion bottles from the cabinet while Snape took care of the boy. He tied the two loops behind the boy, wincing at the sight of the boy's gashed back and healing injuries. They still looked nasty.

"Will she have to take it off?" Harry suddenly asked, still speaking in a whisper.

"Only if she absolutely must," Severus answered calmly, tying off the last loop. "Madam Pomfrey will use magic to run the exam, and she won't have to do much beyond casting the spell and monitoring your reactions in case you … become upset. She will ask to see the wounds from the Werewolf, so you will have to slip your arms out of the sleeves at some point. But I will be with you the whole time."

"Y-you won't leave?" the boy whispered, looking at him anxiously over his shoulder.

"Never," Severus vowed, staring into Lily's eyes in the boy's pale, worried face. He gently picked Harry up and sat him on the exam table. "I will be here with you."

"Always?" the boy whispered, the faint light of hope glowing in his green eyes.

Severus Snape swallowed hard. He was insane. He'd lost his mind. But he knew now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would stand by this small boy until the sun fell into the sea. Even though, just that morning, he had argued himself out of even considering the boy as a permanent houseguest, or perhaps something more, he couldn't help himself now. He looked into Lily's eyes and he felt as if a red rope of fate had been cast between the two of them. His mind, logical and cynical as always, told him he was making a mistake. But his heart, which had never yet steered him wrong, insisted on answering for him, despite his misgivings.

"Yes, child," Severus whispered. "Always."

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The house was quiet. Harry was long abed and the parlour clock chimed ten, echoing in the silence. Severus Snape was reading by his fire, or trying to read. But he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept wandering back in time to the appointment. Madam Pomfrey had been in her element: comforting, kind, motherly, and sympathetic, but Harry had barely thawed toward her by the time they were finished two hours later. If the boy was no longer afraid of her, he treated her with cautious respect and wary suspicion. He didn't speak much, not even to answer her questions, and Snape did not feel justified in forcing the boy to take a potion that would loosen his tongue. He had invented a kind of truth potion that was safe for youngsters, since veritaserum could cause brain damage in children and it was so strictly regulated by the Ministry. He saw that Madam Pomfrey had pulled out one dose, but he had been able to make her understand that it was too soon to push Harry that far. Tomorrow, he and Madam Pomfrey would meet to discuss the results of her intensive scans.

Just like the night Harry had first met Minerva, the boy's silence during the discomfort of the twenty minute deep scan was disturbing. Harry held still and was eerily silent, though the tightness of his facial expression had betrayed how much pain he was really in. Severus Snape had attempted to engage the child in conversation, but Harry only looked at him and blinked his enormous green eyes. So, Snape had ended up telling the boy a story about when he and Lily played a prank on Petunia. She had ruined Severus' summer homework, so he and Lily got even with her in a rather comical way. Harry smiled, even giggled a couple of times, but he didn't say anything. He seemed perfectly content to simply watch Severus. Truth be told, Snape was sure that the boy was simply happy with the promise that the Professor wouldn't be leaving his side.

During the rest of the examination, Harry was obedient and seemed calm enough, though he looked to Severus for confirmation after every order of Madam Pomfrey's. Severus Snape was not certain that he was ready to surrender completely to the feelings that were consuming him, demanding that he claim this child and take care of him. But his own waffling on the issue was annoying him. Of course, it would simply make more sense to allow Remus Lupin to claim Harry, if he could get the melancholy werewolf to settle down and stop being such a wet blanket about everything. But the thought of that … that wolf, getting to keep Harry, when Severus felt such a strong pull toward the helpless child, just seemed wrong. He didn't want anyone taking Harry from him, and he was surprised at himself. Why should he care what happened to the brat?

But Harry wasn't just a Potter. He was Lily's boy, and he had been hurt by people who should have loved and cared for him. Severus blamed himself as much as Dumbledore for that. He had been perfectly capable of checking on the child himself, but his bitterness and hate for James Potter, and his desire to stay away from the painful reminders of Lily's death, had turned him into a coward.

Severus sighed and turned his attention back to his literature. Day before yesterday, he had finally got around to writing the Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry for any relevant research they had on Werewolves and the Wolfsbane Potion. Yesterday evening, the packet had arrived, and he was just now able to go through it. Most of it was depressing stuff. Harry was going to be suffering for the rest of his life, if these numerous medical documents were to be believed.

The worst part of it all was that Harry could not receive the Wolfsbane potion until after he passed puberty. The few Werewolf-infected children who had been given the potion before then had suffered many bizarre side-effects, including death. Severus shivered at the thought and closed his eyes briefly. The boy would be forced to deal with the madness of his wolf for years before he could be afforded the relief of keeping his human mind during the Full Moon.

Perhaps it would be best to contact Remus then. Severus realized that it was selfish of him to want to keep Harry isolated from the only other werewolf who could be 'trusted' to be an alpha for he felt conflicted. As he had told Albus, and to a lesser extent Harry, he really did want to keep the child with him, come what own emotions concerning the whole matter were simply all so confusing. With a growl, he threw the parchments down on the side table and went upstairs, his mind in turmoil.

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Harry was not asleep when he heard the Professor come into the bedroom, but he closed his eyes and pretended to be. He was still hurting a bit, physically, and … his heart hurt too. The Professor had been so good to him, and Harry had gone and ruined it this morning … Yet despite that, the man had been so kind and thoughtful when they went to the doctor's appointment. Harry was sure that without the Professor staying with him, he would have started crying or panicking or something equally embarrassing. He froze as he listened to the man's footsteps coming closer to him. The Professor sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed. Harry lay stiffly, forcing himself to keep still and breathe evenly. The boy just didn't want to talk right now. He was sure to say something stupid or start crying, so it was safer to be asleep. His pretending used to trick Uncle Vernon and Dudley … but he ought to have known that the Professor was too smart to be tricked like that.

"You're not sleeping, are you, Harry?" the Professor said quietly.

Harry shut his eyes tighter and ducked his head under the blue quilt that made him feel warm and safe. He knew it was stupid, and hiding under the covers was a babyish thing to do, but he really didn't want to talk. Couldn't the man just go away and let him rest? It was late and dark, but the Professor just sat there. Harry could feel the dark eyes resting on him and it made him squirm.

"Harry … I …" the man hesitated. "I do think we should talk." The Professor paused and shifted on the bed. "Wouldn't you like to hear what I have to say?"

Harry wondered why in the world the Professor would want to talk to him now. Had he done something wrong? He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what the Professor had to say, but earlier today he had determined to be a good boy and obey, so he pulled the blankets down and blinked silently at the Professor. It was dim, but there was a little bit of light from the hallway leaking into the bedroom, and Harry could see perfectly fine.

"Thank you," the Professor muttered uncomfortably. He was tapping his long fingers on his knees and staring down at them. His granite-like face was flickering with countless emotions, and Harry sat up, wondering why the Professor looked so … tortured.

"Wh-what's wrong, sir?" Harry asked timidly. A sudden thought made his blood freeze with horror and he shrank away from the agitated man. "Did I …?! I didn't make you sick, did I?"

"What?" the Professor blinked and looked up at him, his face twisted with confusion. "No, no, I'm not sick." Harry melted with relief. Aunt Petunia always locked him up when he was sick so he wouldn't make Dudley sick, and so he was glad he hadn't passed whatever werewolf sickness he had on to the kind Professor. He tilted his head as the man kept talking, almost absently. "The Werewolf venom can only be transmitted through a bite, and I don't think you're contagious yet anyway. You haven't transformed yet."

Harry frowned briefly, but brushed the unfamiliar words away. "Then what's the matter, sir? Did I do something … wrong?"

"No, Harry;" the Professor growled, sounding frustrated. He ran his hand through his black, greasy hair and sighed heavily. "I need to apologize to you … for this morning."

Harry frowned again, and shook his head in confusion. "I don't … I don't understand, sir. You didn't do anything, it was me that …"

"But I did do something," the Professor insisted. "I frightened you; and I know that I hurt you … deeply. I am … very sorry. I just … I don't even know my own mind anymore." The man sighed and ran a hand through his greasy hair. "I do want to keep you with me. Please understand that, first of all," he murmured, so softly that Harry almost didn't hear him.

Harry gasped softly and immediately covered his mouth with his hands. He was trembling and he didn't understand why he was so affected. The Professor actually did want him? Then why …?

The man grumbled under his breath and rubbed his face, looking and sounding frustrated. "I feel a strange attachment to you," he explained haltingly. "And I … I don't understand it. I am … I am not a … kind, person. I have not loved anyone in … many years. I don't really know how to care for a child … and I don't know how to love. I am a poor choice for a guardian, Harry."

"I don't care," Harry found himself whispering. His heart was singing. He was really wanted! He really didn't care at this point whether the Professor knew his own mind or not. Just the fact that he was wanted made him smile and the affection he had for the dour man soared up in his chest. The boy sat up, crawled across the bed, and wrapped his arms around the Professor. "I … I love you, sir," he whispered, hardly able to believe that he actually did love this grim, serious man with the fathomless eyes and confusing moods. He loved the Professor, and nothing would change that now.

"I don't … I don't know if I love you back," the Professor whispered faintly, sounding was staring down at his hands, not at the boy wrapping small arms around his shoulders. "Why would you want to stay with someone who doesn't even know if they love you or not?"

"I don't care," Harry repeated, in a stronger voice, hugging the Professor tighter. "I want to stay here with you and … and take care of you."

"Take care of …?" The Professor looked up at Harry, looking surprised and maybe a little disturbed. "You do know that it is an adult's job to care for an eight year old, right?"

Harry shrugged. "You … you need somebody," he said simply. It was true. Harry knew that the Professor really did need someone, and not just someone to cook his meals and do his dishes. He wasn't sure just how he knew, but he was certain just the same.

To his surprise, the Professor didn't really answer. The man just pulled him into an embrace and held him for awhile. Neither of them talked, and Harry melted into the Professor's arms. He sighed, feeling safe again, smelling the Professor's good clean scent of herbs and spices. Everything was right in the world. He didn't care who the Professor was; he was just glad that the man had not really rejected him. Harry wasn't sure what it was like to be loved anyway, so he honestly didn't mind if the Professor really loved him or knew a freak couldn't be loved anyway, so it was okay. All he knew was that he loved the Professor with all his heart and he never wanted to leave. The strange echo that was growing inside his mind heartily agreed, almost as if it, the echo, was another person in his head. He hadn't told the Professor yet, but he would. He would tell the Professor all kinds of things. When the man stopped being so weird, of course.

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"As you can see from this chart, he is not only undersized, he is downright malnourished." Madam Pomfrey paused and glanced briefly over at the boy they were discussing. Severus sighed and glanced over as well. Harry sat quietly in a corner of the medi-witch's small office, engrossed in a book of common wizarding maladies and their treatments. It was a thick book, but simple enough that the boy would probably understand most of it.

"I think I could see that right away," Snape drawled, gesturing needlessly at the tiny child sitting by the window. He was nearly nine years old, but looking at his waifish figure, dwarfed even by simple muggle clothing that actually fit him, it was rather obvious that he was malnourished and undersized. There was no fear of being overheard with Severus Snape's muffliato charm keeping their conversation down to a low murmur that Harry wouldn't be able to understand.

"He will have to be kept on a regimen of nutrient potions until his weight is satisfactory," Madam Pomfrey sighed, laying her parchment on the narrow desk she used on occasion. "Since he has been malnourished during some crucial stages of his development, I anticipate a few health problems down the road, but some potions should clear them up." The plump woman stopped and when she spoke again, her voice quivered with emotion. "It is such a lucky thing you found him, Severus. I can't imagine trying to undo all of this if he came here at eleven as he was supposed to. By that age, a lot of the damage would be … permanent."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Can you not concentrate on reality?" he asked drily. "Focusing on 'what-if' scenarios is rarely helpful after the fact."

"Of course you are right, Severus," the medi-witch said quietly, brushing a tear from her eye. "I just cannot believe that human beings could do this kind of damage to an innocent child in their care." She waved the parchment detailing the results of her deep scan the day before."Broken bones, abrasions, bruises, cuts, burns, untreated illnesses, starvation … It was a pleasant surprise to find that he wasn't abused sexually as well." The nurse shut her eyes in pain and took a calming breath before she looked at Snape again. "I am simply appalled that nobody in the neighbourhood or at his school noticed any of this. I thought Dumbledore said he had someone keeping an eye on the boy!"

"Arabella Figg," Severus snarled. "She's a squib and she was being paid well, but she obviously gave more attention to her kneazle-breeding practice than to the child being abused under her watch. I haven't had a chance to talk to that woman yet, but trust me; I will."

"Kneazle-breeding is illegal," Madam Pomfrey muttered angrily. "I've half a mind to give that woman what-for myself!" She glanced quickly over at Harry again. The child was gazing out the window at the soggy Quidditch Pitch, which was visible from the office window. It was raining, though not very hard, and nobody was outside. "At least Harry seems a good deal calmer today. He undressed for his exam without a murmur. I wonder, Severus … is that something to worry about, or to rejoice over?"

Snape squirmed uncomfortably and looked away from her. "I think …" he said slowly. "That Harry will be alright … He and I had a … talk … last night. We came to … an understanding, if you will. I also talked to him this morning about you. He told me that he was afraid of you because he has not had good experiences with nurses in the past. The one kind woman he encountered in this sort of setting got him into serious trouble with his uncle for suspecting abuse and acting on her suspicion. Harry was punished … I believe you have a record there from your deep scan that four of his ribs were broken on one occasion when he was about six, along with his jawbone and his left arm?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded once, her face white with horror.

The Potions Professor shrugged. He forced himself to remain calm and clinical about this. He could spend his anger and horror later in his training room near his dungeon quarters. "Additionally, he was seen as a liar by an earlier nurse, because he healed so quickly," he explained. "Bruises and cuts disappeared by the time anyone took his claims seriously. Harry got used to hiding his injuries and pretending things were normal. Other nurses, at least two, were unpleasant women who disliked children, and found a strange loathing for him in particular." Severus paused and gazed frankly at Poppy. "I was able to explain that you … helped me when I most needed it. That I trusted you with my life and honor."

"I'm … flattered, Severus," the medi-witch blushed. "But you're too kind. You know that I'm only doing my job."

"Unfortunately, that isn't good enough for Harry," Snape said grimly. "He needed to know that you had a good reason to treat him kindly and gently. He needed to know that you were emotionally invested in his well-being. I told him that you helped his mother give birth to him. He was rather impressed by that, and I suppose that is mainly what led to his new attitude."

It was true that Harry's attitude toward the Infirmary nurse had completely turned around from yesterday. After Severus had talked to the boy over breakfast, Harry had smiled sweetly at the woman when they arrived in the infirmary, and then he had started talking. He apologized for being so troublesome the day before, (which a bewildered Poppy assured him he wasn't) and he started asking questions about everything she was doing, including asking why it had hurt so badly yesterday. He was now patiently waiting for the grown-ups to finish discussing him so they could go home and eat lunch. Even though the boy sitting in the corner by the window was behaving very well, Severus could see that he was getting tired and impatient. He was, after all, only eight years old.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said, changing the subject and stacking up her papers. "His werewolf wounds seem to be healing very well and the poison making its way in his blood is proceeding as expected. You do know that you cannot brew Wolfsbane potion for him until he reaches the age of twelve at the youngest? He will need the hormones of puberty and adulthood to counter some of the potion's more dangerous side effects."

"I know," Severus muttered, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I have a few ideas to modify the Wolfsbane potion so it will be suitable for children, but unfortunately, my experimentation will take a few months. I will not give him a modified potion like this unless I am extremely certain that it is safe. It might not even work. But I must try. I can't let him go through such torture without all the help I can give him."

"As to that, he will need a safe place to transform," Poppy said gently. "Have you a secure cellar or something similar?"

"I have a cellar, but it wouldn't be suitable, I think," Snape said uncomfortably. "Even without the enhanced strength of the wolf, the boy would not find it difficult to escape. Plus, I keep my Potions lab down there."

"Oh, not at all suitable then," Madam Pomfrey grimaced. "Well then …" she paused cautiously. "I was thinking you could ask the Headmaster if you could make use of the Shrieking Shack."

Severus flinched involuntarily, and tried to ignore the cold sweat that broke out on his skin. He hated and feared that old building. It was the scene of his worst nightmares. Years ago, Remus Lupin had used the Shrieking Shack during his time as a student. The seemingly flimsy cabin on the edge of Hogsmeade had been builtfor the young werewolf, so that he could be locked safely away during his nights of transformation. The Shrieking Shack, so named because of Lupin's screams and howls on full moons, was protected and reinforced with spells and wards placed by Dumbledore, McGonegall, and other powerful sorcerers. No werewolf would be able to escape that house once the correct wards were triggered. But Severus held a deep and particular loathing for the shack after he was nearly killed in his fifth year. Sirius Black had tricked him into entering the shack by a secret passage on a night of a full moon. Severus could never forget that awful night; the smug face of James Potter as he dragged his hated enemy to safety, the angry werewolf as it lunged for him, eyes red and gold with hunger and bloodlust … Severus still bore the scars on his right leg from the beast's claws. Of course, Lupin apologized to him later in tears and sobs, but Severus was too angry and frightened to forgive anyone. When he learned that Black was not going to be expelled for attempted murder, Severus had flown into a rage such as he had never known before or since. Was that event the straw that broke the dragon's back in goading his entrance to the Death Eaters? Severus wasn't sure, but the Shrieking Shack, werewolves, and Sirius Black, were all subjects he tried to avoid when possible.

"Severus?" Poppy said gently, obviously taking in his suddenly white face, the sweat on his forehead, and the way his hands were now gripping his chair for dear life.

"I'm fine," the man whispered faintly. He swallowed hard and reached up with shaking hands to wipe the cold sweat from his face. He took a deep breath and gained control of himself. Why had the mere mention of that stupid hovel upset him so? Was it only because of the memories newly triggered by the young werewolf now sitting in this very office beside him? "I did not think of the … Shrieking Shack," Severus replied, regaining his composure. "It is a good idea, Poppy ... but I'm loathe to leave Harry alone like that. He's still such a little child …"

"Have you thought any more about asking Remus Lupin to help?" Madam Pomfrey asked carefully. "I know you are not on friendly terms with him, but I assure you that Harry could do no better for a companion and mentor on his condition … And you cannot stay with Harry during his painful transformations, as you so wisely pointed out. The boy will need someone to cling . Lupin was close to the boy's parents and he loved the boy as a baby … I don't think you need fear anything from him, Severus."

Instead of snarling at the suggestion as he was wont to do, Severus Snape sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands as he ran over his thoughts. To be honest, after spending most of the night reading through the material from the Magical Creatures Department, he was finding the idea of contacting Remus Lupin to be less loathsome than he had. He was thinking that he was being rather selfish, wanting the boy to bond with him first before the Werewolf, but Harry really would need someone with experience in this field. Severus, despite how fiercely he felt about the child, was not willing to get mauled (and infected) by an emerging Werewolf for his stubbornness. Lupin would be in no danger from Harry, and both Dumbledore and Pomfrey vouched for him.

Normally, Severus Snape would refuse point-blank and fight back on principle … but this was for Harry, his own feelings be damned.

"I was thinking about … writing to him," Severus finally said, his voice soft and hesitant. He looked up at the Hogwarts nurse with a half-hearted sneer. "Do owls find him wherever he's currently wandering?"

"Usually," Madam Pomfrey nodded thoughtfully, not doing a good job of disguising her delight. "We don't correspond regularly, you understand. But if I need something, an owl will find him. He was in Holland last I wrote, but that was months ago, close to Christmas. He and I still exchange gifts; or cards at least."

"Good," Severus muttered, fidgeting nervously. "I suppose I'd best send a letter to him today if I want him to come back to England before the Full Moon."

"I think the moment you explain that Harry needs him, he will move heaven and earth to come within the hour," Madam Pomfrey chuckled. "You vastly underestimate the devotion of a Werewolf to his packmates."

"Excuse me?" Snape demanded, taken aback. Packmates? What was she talking about? Was it already too late for Harry's emerging wolf?

"Remus formed something of a pack with his three friends here at Hogwarts," the nurse explained delicately. "Any family taken on by his friends automatically entered under the pack bond as well. Lily married James, became part of the pack, and gave birth to Harry, who also became part of his little pack. The boy has always been part of Remus' family."

"Oh," Severus muttered, slumping a bit in his chair. Of course Harry wouldn't need him. Nobody did. Lily hadn't needed him, obviously. He shook his head at himself and his childish attitude. Surely Lupin wouldn't be so boorish as to completely take Harry away from him. After all, Severus needed to finish his calculations and start working on modifying the Wolfsbane potion. Lupin certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to let childhood rivalries stand in the way of Harry's wellbeing, when having a Potions Master as a friend could be so valuable. He needed to stop being so touchy about all of this.

"Should I …?" Severus cleared his throat. "Should I tell Dumbledore that I plan to contact Lupin?"

"A good idea," Poppy nodded. "He might even be able to reach Remus even more quickly by floo. You never know with Albus."

"Fine," Severus said, getting to his feet and canceling the muffliato charm. He smoothed down his black teaching robes and put away his wand. "Thank you for everything, Poppy. We'll come by again next week so you can see how he's doing."

"Maybe by that time, Remus will be joining us," Madam Pomfrey smiled. She gave Snape a quick side-hug, which he uncomfortably returned. "Good luck with the lad, Severus. You know I'm only a floo-call away if you need anything."

"I know, and thank you," Severus said quietly.

He turned to the boy by the window, who seemed to be almost dozing. With something of a fond smile, Severus stepped closer to the boy's chair, and kept his voice soft so as not to startle him, but Harry still jumped at the sound of his voice so close. "Would you like to go for a walk, Harry?"

HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP

You asked for fluff, and I hope you are happy with my repentant Potions Master! Stay tuned for next week, when Severus Snape takes yet another another tumble into Greasy-Git-of-the-Dungeons mode. I know, I just can't stop torturing Harry and Sev. It's too fun. But he's trying, you know? Being a good daddy would never come easy to this guy.

Thank you all for your love and reviews, it is all because of you that I am posting Chapter 11 so early, which is technically part 2 of the previous chapter. plus, this one's pretty short. Think of it as a bonus chapter!

Although I'm kinda leaving it on a cliffhanger here too. ;) Don't kill me!