A/N: Author Special Announcement Time? Lol. Sooo, I know I said previously this was only going to be 100 chapters, but after looking at my finished product and realizing how bloody long the last few chapters are, I have to split it up (again, like it isn't already long enough*) lol. I don't want to overwhelm my lovely readers with 11k word chapters just because I'm trying to tie up all my loose ends.
That said, Remadora's much awaited HEA is coming soon :-)
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
Severus Snape stood outside the entrance to his own Potions classroom in the dungeons, a muscle behind his jaw twitching without him bidding it so.
He stared ahead blankly, his face a mask of utmost calm and composure, the perfect picture of an impassive indifference he had perfected over the years, unlike his former, bright student, Norah Elizabeth Jameson.
A Gryffindor when she had been Sorted, though Severus was of the firm belief that the blonde would have made an excellent Slytherin, judging by her temper, of which he was unfazed by the younger woman's savage snarling and growls.
He remained apathetic to Norah's rather violent and objective personality when he firmly and calmly announced that no one would be permitted entry into this room.
Snape was under strict orders from the Headmaster not to allow anyone—especially anybody connected to the party that had entered into the Forbidden Forest—to see her.
The gush of Jameson's furious tears that marred her vision, causing those darkened cerulean blue orbs of hers to brim bright with a wave of smoldering, fathomless anger, muddled with his mind.
How convenient, he thought, biting the inside wall of his cheek. Severus shook his head to clear it, continuing to remain unfazed by the young witch's insults. His former student and admittedly one of his best, Ollie Brennan, had left her down here alone with him and Dolores Jane Umbridge to attend to Tonks.
Convenient, amusing, and terrifying all at the same time, these worldly thoughts. Snape had always thought himself a keen and penetrating mind, a clever, manipulative man, playing both sides of the same coin as he served under Lord Voldemort at Albus's command, putting his own life at great personal risk every time the Dark Mark summoned him. And now, as he once again refused Norah in to let her see Dolores…
Eye to eye, they stared at one another, the She-Wolf and Potions Professor. Hers, brimming with unshed, glistening tears of anger and betrayal, with full-fledged apathy as she slowly began to lose her emotional composure as the full moon neared.
His were bothered by the continuous draining of his emotional strength, though Severus would never dare admit it out loud to anyone except Dumbledore, and even then, in private. She had entered into his dungeons without recourse and without Severus inviting her, but words were never needed with the blonde wild werewolf.
She tried. One more time. "Let me in, Snivellus," Norah growled angrily.
And again, he denied. "You know that I cannot do that, Miss Jameson. No amount of you resorting to pathetic name-calling is going to convince me otherwise. You can talk to me until you're blue in the face, which, at this point, I would very much welcome if you were to pass out from talking as to save me the torment of listening to your incessant screeching, werewolf, though you ask me, dog, you make a better banshee to terrorize the first years than a wolf," Severus snapped, unable to keep the hardened tone of anger out of his voice any longer as he gripped onto his wand.
Norah slowly opened her tired eyes, having squeezed them tightly shut in an effort to quell back the tampered down drop of rage that threatened to poison her bloodstream. She had, at best, maybe a half an hour before the moon would take her.
"You—you keep your forked tongue between your teeth, snake," she spat, hearing the very anger dripping from her poisonous words as she snarled at Snape.
She saw her visions abruptly clear from a slowed blur. Two lit torchers in their scones hung on either side of the door that led into Professor Snape's Potions room.
This was the first thing that met her turning wolfish sight, and Norah felt her nostrils flare in antagonizing hurt as through the closed oak wooden door of Snape's classroom, she could practically taste the fear, honeyed sweat, on the tip of her tongue.
The pink-loving bitch who had killed her family was terrified of her. Good, Norah thought meanly, clenching her jaw rooted shut in anger, grinding her molars.
Umbridge ought to be scared. Norah shook her head, stifling the low, wolfish growl that threatened to escape the confines of her chest, throat, and her cracked lips.
Norah Jameson held herself perfectly still, staring at Potions Master Severus Snape, her burning blue eyes bright with anger locked right onto his listless black orbs devoid of any emotion. There was a wrinkle in the young blonde female werewolf's nose that had nothing to do with a coming sneeze, Severus knew, her muscles tight, jaw locked.
Her rage at continuously being denied the opportunity to confront the Minister's Senior Undersecretary held all the power of a wildfire. Snape could practically see the flames roaring in Norah Jameson's blue eyes, ready to ignite anything she came into contact with. In this case, Severus correctly assumed that it was going to be himself.
Norah had to remind herself that, for the third or fourth time in the span of just three or four days, she was now clouded with a certain disability. Her condition.
The wound on her right abdomen that smarted, as well as the several cuts and bruises that dotted along her left cheek and the tops of both her palms, courtesy of Aragog's children in the hollow of the Forbidden Forest earlier, came to her mind.
Norah flinched, stiffening as she leaned in slightly, having to stand on her tiptoes. It wasn't bloody fair that pretty much all of the men in this entire damn country towered over her, even when she was wearing her black leather boots with the heels.
The very tip of her nose practically touched Severus's slender, hooked nose. Red. Everything in her wolfish vision went red. Her vision blurred as a hot flame, hotter than any fire a dragon could flame, curled in the pit of her churning stomach as nausea threatened to consume her. Her brain went on overdrive as it picked over every wretched moment that she had spent crying over the deaths of her husband and son.
The memories weighed down on her like they always did right before a full moon, but instead of breaking, even more, her heart turned ice cold and slunk into the shadows as her brain took complete control.
The flames in her stomach rose up to her chest and crawling through her veins, took over the rest of her body. A red hot shower of sparks emitted from the tip of her wand and Norah swore she felt bits of her wand start to crack and splinter in her strengthening wolfish grip as her inner Wolf came out.
Her fingers coiled into fists, her hand not clutching onto her wand seized a fistful of the Potions Professor's robes and shook him with surprising strength for one so small. "Let. Me. In," she growled, lowering her voice so that it was dangerously quiet.
Waves of fury rolled off of her as the blood rose to her cheeks. The term anger barely even touched the tip of the volcano that she so clearly was in this moment.
She was grateful, at the very least, that her new friend, Ollie, wasn't around to see it. The kid had taken a hell of a liking to her over the last couple of days, she to him.
Though, they would never dare admit to anyone else, or to each other, really.
Norah emanated a tense exhale through her nose and let out another warning growl, closing off the gap of space so now she was close enough to kiss the greasy-haired slimeball if she was of a desire to, though that was the absolute last thing on her mind.
The kid would kill her if she did, and no woman in her right mind would want to kiss this asshole.
"I'm not going to say it a second time, Snivellus. If you don't get out of my way right this instant, I'm not responsible for what comes next," she hissed angrily. "I'll kill you, Snape. See if I don't. Watch what happens when you piss me off."
Snape snorted, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Would you care to do it now and save me the further torment of listening to your sniveling whining? Or am I allowed a few moments to compose an epitaph?" he snapped angrily by way of retort.
Severus merely proceeded to look down his slender and slightly hooked nose at Norah, a sneer of his own forming on his face as the last vestiges of his patience were tested.
"You cannot solve everything using your fangs, dog," he growled, the edges of his tone clipped and curt. "You would do well to remove yourself from this corridor."
Norah growled, feeling the edges of her gums pulling upward as she bared her sharpened canines. For just a brief moment, she thought she saw the shadow of revolt, a look of disgust, intermingled with that of fear, flit across Severus Snape's ashen features.
It would have to be enough. "I'm warning you. I've just about reached my limit, Professor, I don't care if I'm on Hogwarts Grounds," Norah snarled lowly, narrowing her blue eyes until they were mere slits as she proceeded to glower at the Potions Master. "You'd better watch what you say. Snivellus," she added darkly for emphasis.
Much to her chagrin and mild surprise, Severus Snape's black eyebrows shot so far up onto his forehead with amazement that they practically disappeared into his hairline.
Severus's lips pursed into a thin line as he took in the rapidly declining physical condition of the young blonde She-Wolf as the full moon drew nearer as time passed.
"You're like this because your time approaches, and you've acted this way ever since you came out of the Forest. Is it Brennan?" Snape snapped, sounding disgusted.
Norah scoffed and rolled her eyes, huffing in frustration and folding her arms across her chest at the mention of Ollie.
"Who cares? I told you, never to talk about him." She snapped, her voice a low, threatening growl, feeling her hackles raise angrily.
Snape sighed, an exasperated look on his face as he pursed his lips into a thin line.
"It matters not. I grow tired of this conversation. I'm not letting you in, Miss Jameson, and I'm not apologizing for you not letting this go. You have not been able to put what happened behind you. It may have escaped your notice, werewolf, but guess what?" he snarled, the edges of his own voice growing clipped and hard. "Life. Isn't. Fair. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something. I know that you seek retribution against the Senior Undersecretary for what happened to your mate and cub," Severus snapped through gritted teeth, spitting the words he used to refer to her deceased husband and son as if they were poison. "You appear to be laboring under the delusion that I am impressed with you, but you could not be further from the truth, Miss Jameson. To me, you're nothing more than a wild animal, a savage bitch incapable of controlling herself. Tell me, dog, are you truly this incapable of controlling your emotions, or shall I conjure a collar and a leash to keep you from taking one step into this room," he hissed.
Norah gritted her teeth, knuckles white with the effort to restrain herself, and she felt something within her snap. "That's such a shame, Severus," Norah growled, plunging her hand into the interior pocket of her black leather jacket, the fingers of her wand hand twitching as she pulled it out and pointed the tip of it squarely at Snape's chest. "Like I said. A real shame. You just stepped on a huge, nonnegotiable land mine. There's just one last question I have to ask. What do you want on your tombstone?"
Snape fixed Norah with a pointed stare. "Why don't you write, "There's no cure for a fool with a wand?" he growled and did not react as Norah uttered a spell, though he moved fast enough, wrenching her wand arm above her hand, just in time for her jinx to reverberate off the walls until it struck one of the doorknobs on a nearby storage closet and exploded. Snape's face remained angered and pale as Norah lost her temper.
He grunted with the effort to restrain the worst of the She-Wolf's temper.
"This is…not the way," he spat venomously at his former student through clenched teeth and rooted jaw. "Think of what you are doing. You shouldn't do this."
"You really think you can judge me, Severus?" Norah bellowed, her face chalk-white with anger as she shoved his chest so that he stumbled against the door, hard. "What do you know about my life, huh? What the hell do you know about me? Go on, why don't you tell me? A guy like you who spends his life in a safe little bubble has no idea what I've been through!" she screamed, not caring if they woke anyone up.
"You're right," Severus answered calmly, his calm demeanor infuriating Norah even further, though she offered no verbal retort to what he was about to say as his fingers curling around his wand as he raised it against the raging She-Wolf in defense, who was panting heavily from the exertion of her rapidly swelling temper. "There's no way I can know that. I'm not you, after all. But still. Let me ask you this, hmm. What do you know about me? It does not matter who you are. Or how you live. We all have to suffer."
When Norah did not answer him, merely proceeding to grit her teeth in anger and blink back furious tears, Severus took that as his sign to continue.
He took a moment to straighten the collar of his black robes and let out a haggard sigh.
"You have no intention of understanding that. Instead of owning up to things, you'd rather play the part of the tragic heroine, with her," Here, Snape jerked his thumb towards the door behind him, which he had been tasked with guarding. "as the villain in your sad, pathetic little life. That, in my opinion, is the most cowardly thing about you, wolf."
When Norah turned at last to face Snape, there was no trace of tears, not in her eyes or in track marks on her reddening face. Her eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard.
At that moment, Snape knew the witch was already far away. Once more, as was his plight in life, he was labeled as the enemy.
These swings from most loved to most hated would be the end of him, he was sure of it. The woman's states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed.
Severus drew in a deep breath, the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took Norah to think of the most brutally cutting thing she could attempt to tear him down within her effort to get to Dolores Jane Umbridge, of which, in her emotionally vulnerable state, he could not allow.
And after that, he could kiss anything breakable goodbye. Which right now might just be his nose, it was so hard to tell and so pointless to run, even in the wolfish form that was threatening to emerge from her, as her entire body convulsed with rage.
"SHUT UP!" Norah roared, her blue eyes widening in anger as her mind processed what Snape just said to her. She looked around for something to throw and seeing a small side table set off to the side for purposes unknown, thought that efficient enough, and kicked it in anger, sending the contents and vials scattering to the ground. "It's convenient for you to feel like this, Snivellus! Goddamn it! There are no heroes in this life! Look around you, Snape! It's shit as far as the eye can see. The only good I had in my life was taken from me, Professor. That—that bitch killed my husband, my son!" she screamed, seizing tufts of her hair and tugging.
"The Aurors will deal with her, Miss Jameson," Severus answered coldly. "Let them handle the witch. It has to be better than feeling sorry for yourself, crying about your hard life," he snarled, watching as Norah's face paled in shock and she faltered backward, the grip of her wand hand slipping a little as her weapon fell to the floor.
"Shut up! Shut up, Snivellus. I—I'm serious! I'll—I'll kill you!" Norah yelled.
Severus sighed, ensuring his face remained a mask of calm serenity, despite the undeniable tension in the dungeon corridor. If the hatred between the two of them were a color in the air, this entire hallway would have been a blood-red scarlet color.
"Then do it," Severus replied stoically by means of retort. "Keep chasing your tail like the dog that you are. But if you kill me here and now, you'll just end up proving my point," he answered, fixing Norah Jameson with a cold stare as she charged at him.
"That's all I know how to do!" she screamed, picking her wand up off the floor and drawing it so fast that Severus barely had time to blink an eye as a loud bang coupled with a fatigued ringing sound filled his eardrums, and he was propelled backward.
He felt the back of his head connect with the cold stone wall, feeling like his stomach was about to give out. It felt like his innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole.
Then nausea crept from his abdomen and the dungeons went black.
Norah felt the edges of her lips curl upward in a twisted sneer. She supposed were this any other circumstances and not a full moon that she would have been appalled and disgusted with herself for allowing her wolfish, violent temper to get the better of her that had caused her to attack a Hogwarts teacher.
She hoped Snape didn't press charges.
She was no longer a Hogwarts student anymore at age thirty, well past that age, and she was not employed by the castle, so threats of expulsion and job loss would not work against her in this regard, though the threat of jail time in Azkaban certainly would.
The last thing she needed was the Aurors coming for her tonight, too, though there was nothing that could stop this, stop this moment of exhilaration that she had dreamed of for the last four years, and Merlin damn the person that tried, in her heightened temper, she would kill anyone that tried.
Absolutely nothing, she thought, feeling the edges of her incisors on her top wall of teeth start to sharpen, and Norah Jameson ducked into the Potions Classroom, locking it, pointing her wand at the lock and murmuring the Muffliato Sound-Dampening Charm under her breath in a whisper.
Before the moon struggled to dawn between the gray clouds, she had unfinished business with the witch currently seated in a chair near Severus Snape's old oak desk.
Bound by ropes and stripped of her wand with which to defend herself, Umbridge was not going anywhere. Umbridge's dark brown eyes widened only for a split second as she took in the haggard, heaving sight of Norah Jameson standing by the front door.
Her ragged breaths seemed to echo across the dank cobblestones of Snape's classroom, and her only consolation to assuage herself of what she was about to do, was that she was grateful, at the very least, Snape had forced both her and Remus to drink copious amounts of Wolfsbane prior to this little meeting.
There was going to be holy hell to pay from Snape later, if and when he woke up from being knocked out, though Norah could not manage to pretend to care anymore. Umbridge was already glaring at her with anticipation as her posture in her chair stiffened and became quite rigid.
She had been expecting Norah. "Come closer, dear," Umbridge simpered in her sickeningly infuriating honeyed voice, though Norah was not fooled. She was afraid.
Though her voice was devoid of fear. Not even the blood from her various cuts and bruises, courtesy of Aragog's attack, that adorned her pale face evoked a cringe.
Norah snorted and obliged, letting a dark little chuckle escape her pursed lips, laughing to herself.
If Dolores Jane Umbridge was ever afraid of someone, she thought it would be utterly hilarious if Norah herself was part of her wretched list. "Funny…"
Umbridge quirked a dark brow Norah's way as she stood towering over the short, stout witch clad in pink. "I had a feeling that you would come, dog. I see that you've attempted to side with Professor Dumbledore after all. What, you're his bitch now?"
Norah gritted her teeth, her knuckles white as her fingers curled around the handle of her wand, forcing her voice that was practically throttling her repelled fury.
"Shut. Up. Bitch," Norah whisper hissed through gritted teeth, and her anger was only provoked even furth when Umbridge did not respond, merely proceeding to look up at the younger blonde witch, sending shrills of a horrible, honeyed mockery down her spine.
She raked her free hand not clutching onto her wand, which was pointed squarely at Dolores's chest, painfully through her short blonde hair and down alongside her face, sweat, tears, and blood painting her cheeks.
"You murdered my husband and son. My Jax was barely two years old and you killed him," she spat, her entire body convulsing with the effort to restrain herself, and she felt her wand slip from her fingers. "Why? Why did you kill them? Why do you hate us? What did our kind ever do to you, Umbridge? You're a murderer, you bitch," she snarled, feeling her sharpened incisors begin to lengthen, and her eyeballs throbbed as she felt her irises change color.
It was happening. Norah went on a repeat of the whys before kicking the cobblestone wall, her thundering footsteps and savage, wolfish growls echoing within.
Umbridge pressed herself further back into her chair as far as she possibly could, with her pudgy face revealing no remorse as she broke into a simpering but wide grin.
"More than you know," Umbridge hissed. "Oh, my dear Miss Jameson. They say that the apple does not far from the tree. You may or may not have spoken out against me when I instituted the Legislation Ban on your kind, you filthy half-breed, but you know how it feels when you kill, yes?"
Norah froze, feeling her bottom lip tremble as Umbridge, sensing Norah's growing discomfort, continued. "Yes, dearie. It's never about bringing justice to your fallen family members or settling scores. It's about the fun that it brings, personal entertainment, you might even go as far to say. The…truly exhilarating pleasure of causing pain, hearing screams, knowing you had a hand in placing them there, child. To the rest of the wizarding community, you are a monster, Miss Jameson. You do not belong in polite society and were it up to me, I'd have you and Mr. Lupin in cages. To me, you're my version of the broken dog that I once had as a pet before it died."
Dolores Jane Umbridge enjoyed the emphasis on her own last three words. "My little JAX," she screamed, her eyes widening in anger, spittle flying from her lips.
The pressure in Norah's head finally exploded as she felt the color of her blue irises shift to green, along with a blood-curdling scream and a gash on the witch's neck.
She dove at Umbridge, tackling her to the ground, forcing the witch out of her chairs, snapping the rope restraints off her with her own two hands as a series of memories flitted through her mind, and with it, equaling a hard rip of flesh and bone.
The other kids at Hogwarts that ganged up on her when she was eleven in her first year once they found out what she was, her sweet, kind mother, sunsets spent at the edge of the Forbidden Forest because no one else would want them nearby.
Green-eyed Wes. Her sweet husband. Feeling how his lips moved in a kiss, Wes in his black dress robes the night of their illegal wedding. Holding Jax in her arms for the first time right after his birth, crying sweet tears of relief knowing he was not a Wolf like his parents.
And this bitch, this wretched horrible succubus, had taken them.
Norah screamed, almost collapsing to the floor and would have if she hadn't seized a fistful of Dolores's pink wool cardigan for support, ignoring the older witch's shrieks.
Her skin bubbled, bones shifted as she transformed. No amount of Wolfsbane could ever take away the immense pain of such a violent, unbearable transformation.
Norah felt it as her skin split like bark. Wiry black hairs sprouted on her arms. Her once kindly blue eyes melted into a heavier, darker forest green color. Her bones moved under her skin like mechanical snakes. Audible, horrible cracks sliced through her flesh and she felt her feet cement firmly into the ground. Norah was no longer herself.
In her place, a monster. A strange itching sensation erupted on her jaws and she could almost feel herself foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.
The last thing Norah remembered was how her teeth gnashed in a wild frenzy as she felt her pupils dilate, and though she could not see it, her eyes changed color, soon, all that was in the place where she had once stood, was the Wolf.
From the Wolf's throat came a low, guttural growl as her teeth bared, coiled with ravenous hunger and hatred. She could hear the Bitch's screams, sweet, succulent music to her ears, and then jinxes, bright red and yellow darting, and firing in every direction.
Then came the scream of Woman. Of the Pink Woman. Of Umbridge. And blood. Warm, sticky bloom skimming around her mouth as the Wolf sank her sharpened fangs in the neck of the Woman—the Murderer of the Cub whose familiar scent had long since faded from her human form's leather jacket.
Defend. Protect. Attack. Kill. The instincts of the Wolf as Norah allowed her Wolf to take overran through the She-Wolf's mind like a mantra, and the Wolf had to protect her new family.
Ollie. Tonks. Remus. All of them. Kill. Rip. Tear. Bite. Feed. The thick scent of terror intermingled with coppery blood filled the She-Wolf's nostrils. Terror. Fear.
How it smelled sweet and succulent. She had never known herself to be a savage She-Wolf whenever she transformed.
But now, given what the Bitch had done to her mate and cub, and to her Friends, the She-Wolf snarled and raged and ravished, bearing her blood-soaked fangs, tore at the Woman's arm, lashed at Dolores Jane Umbridge's throat, snapped the Woman's wand in two in between her powerful jaws, and went for the bitch's brown eyes.
Norah felt like her mind was ravaged with pure wrath and ire and she went lunging after Umbridge, successfully snapping, and clamping onto his ankle, and had the man screaming in pain. A sudden, unexpected gash hollered on her left side. Blood.
The Wolf whimpered and howled in pain, as the tall dark-haired man from earlier had regained consciousness, pointing his wand at the She-Wolf, no fear in his eyes.
A pitiful mewling whimper escaped the Bitch's lips, and Norah heard the Wolf growl, though she could not control what was happening.
She still lived, though as the Wolf snapped and snarled, bearing its fangs, foaming at the mouth in pure rancor, the sallow-faced, dark-haired Potions Professor pointed his wand at Umbridge, a length of rope shot from the end of his wand, his pale face even paler than usual as he surveyed the carnage that had stained his Potions Classroom with inquisitive darkened black eyes.
"Merlin's left…" he swore through gritted teeth, his voice trailing off as Snape surveyed the mess, hardly daring to believe his eyes, though he pointed his wand at the Wolf and Umbridge collectively, sending a spell nonverbally that sent the Senior Undersecretary unconscious in a heap.
Snape swore under his breath as he surveyed the bloodied mess the She-Wolf has now made of his office, and he realized what Norah Jameson had done to Umbridge.
The She-Wolf had turned Dolores Umbridge like her. The Senior Undersecretary, racist, hater of all non-purebloods, was now the very thing that she hated most.
She was now a werewolf.
Snape exhaled a tense breath through his nose as he slumped against the wall, his back bracing against the door for support, blowing out a puff of air in agitation and annoyance. His mind felt like it was reeling. How to explain this mess to Dumbledore?
Though he was given no time as the She-Wolf angrily poised to attack, teeth bared as she snarled. Snape froze, making no move to attack except to outstretch his arm to the wolf with a considerable distance between himself and the grey werewolf.
It was growling at him now, its tail in an exciting check and viciously wagging, but slowly, the She-Wolf's growls and vicious snarling at the mouth lessened until she quieted. The Wolf sidestepped on all fours as it bypassed Umbridge's limp form completely, as Snape slowly summoned the strength within him to stand back upright.
He never took his palm back as the She-Wolf followed him. The wolf snarled, baring its blood-soaked teeth, occasionally snapping at Severus as he drew ever so closer to him, though it ceased her growls and light howling, for which Snape was immensely grateful.
Snape watched, mesmerized, as the wolf began to whimper and its tail lowered, her sharp incisors beginning to conceal, and instead, the wolf's face softened, and she licked her lips like a good dog. Snape's face held silent disbelief as the She-Wolf nudged his hand in what he could only surmise was a display of affection, lips open.
Drawing in a sharp breath, Snape's hand met the snout of the beast that had viciously maimed and mauled Dolores Jane Umbridge not even but two seconds ago.
Snape felt the strength leave his legs, and he chose to sit on the floor before he passed out again. He was equally just as stunned as the Wolf clambered into his lap.
She curled up on Snape's lap, her chin resting on Severus's knee, and nestled his hand and seemed to take pleasure as Snape, somewhat reluctantly scratched her ear.
"I don't know if you can hear me when you're…like this if you can understand me, dog," he spat, scrunching his nose as the thick tang of blood wafted through his nose. Umbridge's blood, he thought, his stomach recoiling at the carnage that wreaked havoc of his classroom, the usual droll of his baritone voice echoing through the room, though he quieted when he realized no one else was coming, and it was just them, "and you certainly did not hear this from me," he growled, whispering it in the Wolf's pointed ear.
The She-Wolf sanguinely lifted her head, cocking her head to the side as she looked at Snape. Though Severus was not sure she could understand him, the savage wolf that she was, he had to at least try. He owed Jameson that much if nothing else at all.
"She deserved it," Severus whispered, his voice low as he whispered into her ear.
And his next words were meant for Norah and Norah alone, whether or not she could hear him remained to be seen, but Severus Snape spoke the words anyways.
"Good girl."
A/N: I hope I have given Umbridge a satisfying enough ending to truly fit what she's done! Did I do it justice?
