title: lykanthrophobia
by: earthenkynder
rating: pg-13, for some really light swearing in the first chapter, i just want to be safe.
disclaimer: all these characters belong to the goddess j.k. rowling. if they were mine, i wouldn't be sharing them with you ;)
a/n: i know that this will be a snape/lupin fic eventually (sorry if that squicks you, but consider yourself warned) but i'm not exactly sure where it's going. i couldn't find an actual phobia of werewolves, but the original phobias came from greek, so i just made one up using a greek-english dictionary. anyway, enjoy, and please r&r.
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ch. 2
When Snape woke, the ceiling of the infirmary was spinning round and round before becoming very hazy. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Snape fought of a wave of nausea, and slowly opened his eyes again. The room wasn't spinning this time, and as the world came back into focus, he slowly turned his head and saw Dumbledore slumped in a chair beside the bed, with his chin resting on his chest.
Snape went to sit up, but cried out as a fierce pain lanced through his shoulder and down his arm, and he fell back onto his pillow. Upon hearing his cry, Madam Pomfrey came rushing into the room at the same time that Dumbledore woke up.
"Now, now," she clucked at him as she bustled about his bed, picking up a tall blue bottle labeled simply as "painkiller" that had been sitting on the bedside table and pouring the contents into a small measuring cup. "You just stay right where you are. Now drink this," she commanded, holding the measuring cup to his lips. Having no real say in the matter, Snape opened his mouth and immediately started to gag as the foul tasting stuff oozed into his mouth. "Oh, stop that, you'll make it worse. Just gulp it down and you won't taste it as much." Snape tried this, and could taste very little difference. After poisoning him, Poppy grabbed another bottle, this one red, off the table and started shaking it vigorously. Snape turned his head the other way and regarded the headmaster blearily. "What happened?" he croaked.
"You mean you don't remember?" Dumbledore asked, and though he didn't let it show, he felt somewhat dismayed. I hope he didn't hit his head too hard on that floor. It will be bad enough already dealing with what has happened, but if he can't even remember, I don't want to be the one to tell him. He sighed. "Severus, do you remember who was with you when you were knocked unconscious?"
Snape narrowed his eyes, trying to remember, but his head hurt too much. So much for your painkiller, Poppy, he thought bitterly, although he had to admit that the pain in his shoulder had gone down. Shoulder, shoulder… that should mean something…
Madam Pomfrey had finished shaking the bottle and uncorked it, setting the stopper on the table. "Alright, now," Poppy said gently as she reached to undo the bandages on his shoulder. Instinctively, he jerked back, and as he sat up, his shoulder began throbbing and the sheets on the bed fell to his waist, leaving his bare upper body exposed to the cold night air that permeated the castle. As he began to shiver he curled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as well he could, being so sore and all.
"Come now, this may sting a bit, but…" as Poppy reached for him his lip curled up and, baring his teeth, he growled deep in his throat, a sound that he shouldn't have been able to make. Madam Pomfrey immediately backed off, and as Severus realised what he was doing, the growl was choked off immediately, his snarl replaced by a rather numb expression of confusion and dismay. Then a little spark went off in his head, you could see it in his eyes, and he began to rip the bandages off his left shoulder, oblivious to the pain he was causing himself. Both Albus and Poppy watched him with a reserved trepidation.
As the last of the bandages were ripped away, Severus's movements were halted by the shock of what he saw. Bright, angry-looking, red puncture wounds marked his shoulder, forming a perfect imprint of what had to be a rather large set of teeth. Looking down at his wound, the nagging feeling that had been plaguing him was replaced with a sudden reality, hitting him like a cauldron that had been swung at his head. He gasped as images played through his head, of Neville scrambling out of the room, of Lupin transforming, and then a wolf leaping at him…
He looked up at the headmaster, his gaunt face almost pleading with Albus, his eyes shining with unshed tears, much to his dismay.
The headmaster took a deep breath and slowly began. "Severus, you were in the room when Remus transformed. He lost himself to the wolf and attacked you. Bit you. We have tried everything to get rid of the bite mark, but there's nothing…nothing we can do…"
"What do you mean?" Snape asked in a rather high voice, like a child's, no louder than a whisper.
"Severus, that bite has transmitted lycanthropy to you. You are now a werewolf."
As his unshed tears streamed down his face, Severus threw his head back and howled.
