At first, he would simply speculate on the state of the Ministry to allow The Daily Prophet to get a hold of such news, paying little attention to the news itself. There wasn't entirely too much short of Voldemort having a change of heart and adopting orphaned kittens that could surprise him. But today's news held something different.
Severus Snape was sitting at his desk, newspaper in hand, staring at the front page, attempting to formulate some kind of mental reaction. The picture on the paper staring back at him looked, sad, tired, and helpless. He reread the article.
Just one and a half years ago, the renowned school of Hogwarts was met with a horrible revelation - their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, was a werewolf. A danger to students and staff alike, the werewolf fled the wizarding world as soon as his secret was revealed. Although school headmaster Albus Dumbledoor has assured the public many times that Lupin is not hostile in any way, and that his transformations were subdued by the Wolfsbane potion, the Ministry of Magic has seen to it that his name was on the wanted and dangerous list for endangering children.
Auror Mikial Froglam said, "Werewolves can't ever be trusted, no matter what kind of person they are when they're not transformed. The wolf in them makes them unpredictable and unsafe. Not to mention their innate evil nature; You-Know-Who wouldn't be so interested in them unless they were."
Froglam was one of the Aurors who brought in Lupin - his whereabouts at the time were undisclosed.
Lupin is currently being held at the Ministry's headquarters in a high security facility, and he is awaiting word on his sentence.
Remus Lupin. The werewolf. In Ministry headquarters, waiting to be sentenced to life imprisonment at Azkaban, St. Mungo's, or to death. Snape knew he should be elated, satisfied, or even vaguely amused, but he wasn't. After Lupin had left Hogwarts, he'd done the impossible - he'd let it go. Oh, he still wished Sirius Black a slow and painful death, but he had let go of his grudge on Lupin. It truly wasn't his fault that night in the Shrieking Shack, nor was it his fault that he was ever bitten. Snape had planned on never revealing this fact to anyone, and it being brought back up the front of his mind was a bit more than unsettling, especially considering the situation.
'WHAT situation?' Snape demanded of himself angrily. 'This doesn't concern me in the least.' And with that, he tossed the paper in the waste bin next to his desk, and forced the incident out of his mind. After all, it was nothing to worry about. Dumbledoor wouldn't possibly allow one of his favorite people to come to any harm.
'Would he?'
Snape frowned. Of course he wouldn't. It's Remus-Bloody-Lupin, the loveable Gryffindor. Not only would nothing happen, but there was no plausible reason for Snape to be concerned.
But even as he was assuring himself, a little voice in the back of his head was saying, "It's your fault he's there and not at Hogwarts, it's all your fault..."
Snape clenched his fist, not bothering to quell that voice. He knew it was right. It was his fault Lupin resigned, and while at the time it was horribly satisfying, it was probably not the most mature course of action he could have taken. He'd been scolded that at his age he should be far over "petty schoolyard grudges", but these were nothing so simple. He'd been set up to be killed, or worse, turned into a monster, and the boy who set him up got away with less than a slap on the wrist. It was not a prank, it was not a joke, and it was not an accident. It was attempted murder. Black wanted him dead.
He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. It was those kinds of obsessively angry thoughts that were making him so distracted. He couldn't afford to concentrate on negative things, not when Voldemort could resurface at any time. Regardless of all the immediate action Dumbledoor had organized, they hadn't managed to find hide nor hair (nor scale) of the Dark Lord. So, Snape continued his façade as a simple Potions Master, terrorizing students and experimenting with potions, while he waited for the call to duty.
He snorted. Duty. Whoring himself out to suicide missions could hardly be called one's duty. But Severus Snape was not a stupid man, nor was he an entirely evil man. He knew that darkness would never entirely prevail, and in the interest of surviving, the side of good was the better choice. He also knew that the murder and torture of other living beings was very near the most condemnable thing to do, and did not enjoy it in the least. He had no problems with muggles, or witches and wizards of mixed heritage. In fact, it was his personal opinion that most Slytherins were becoming quite inbred. It was a royal pain and displeasure to be their head of house.
Speaking of the little terrors, it was almost time for the first class of the day. Fifth years, Gryffindor and Slytherin. How pleasant.