Things did not improve as the school year proceeded and the end of February approached with big, icy steps. Severus was actually looking forward to the end of the month, even if it meant they would receive another grade sheet, which probably stated once more that he was not making much of an effort to improve his flying abilities.
Severus had come to dread their flying lessons. At first he had thought his problems were nothing but technical difficulties everyone had in the beginning, but he had soon realized that he was the only one in his year who was really afraid of going up into the air. Soon, everyone was chatting avidly about how they loved the feeling of air swishing past them while the highest Hogwarts towers were way beneath their feet. No one seemed scared of falling off. No one seemed to mind looking down - or realizing that there was nothing between them and death but a stupid, feeble broomstick. Severus, on the other hand, did.
He had always been mortally afraid of falling. One or the other way. Heights were not pleasant. What gave people the idea of purposefully lifting into the air to play a stupid ball game on broomsticks was beyond him. Then again - Quidditch did have its interesting sides, even if the thought of playing it brought the sweat to Severus's face.
He remembered the early days when his father had only just moved in, obviously as little used to the situation of having a family as Severus had been to having a father. Lance Snape had soon realized that Severus produced the most satisfyingly frightened squeals when hanging upside down from the balcony railing. And he had made good use of this knowledge. Severus had learned very early what behaviour his father thought deserved this kind of punishment, and he had learned to behave accordingly - however hard he found this to be. Loud singing in the hallway was one of those things. Banging doors when you were angry another. Come to think of it, being angry was not a good thing altogether. Lance did not like being shouted at, or contradicted at all, for that matter. So Severus never did. When he could help it, that is. And it had been a good agreement. Indeed, Severus was sure that he had done fairly well in finding out how to get along with his father. He had only got to know him six years ago, after all.
It was a cold and soggy Friday afternoon in mid-February when Severus, standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall, having successfully ignored another derisive remark from Sirius Black only five minutes ago, suddenly realized that he had not written to his parents for three weeks at least. His homework had kept him, and fear of when he might be forced to mount a broomstick again.
As it was a habit with him, Severus turned on spot and hurried off to the owlery without losing any more time. Three weeks! What was his father going to say? Wouldn't his mother be very worried?
When he was striding along one of the deserted corridors, however, he suddenly perceived voices from one of the classrooms and stopped to listen before continuing on his way. The voices seemed to belong to students. Gryffindor students, as a matter of fact, whom he had come to know unpleasantly well in four months at Hogwarts.
'Don't be ridiculous, Remus. How would they be finding out about it? We're the only ones who know this tunnel.'
'But how do you know it leads into Hogsmeade?'
There was a short break in which Severus crawled a bit nearer to the door, eager to hear - and see - what was those two were up to at this time of the day.
'Oh, don't tell me,' said Lupin now. 'You've been there already? You've actually seen it? That was a bit reckless, don't you think?'
'It sure was,' grinned Potter, very obviously not at all concerned about his nonchalant rule breaking. 'Are you coming or not?'
'I sure am,' replied Lupin, also grinning. 'And I am certain Peter will want to come, too. D'you reckon we should ask Black?'
'What?' hissed Potter angrily. 'Are you mad? He'll blow our cover. What d'you want to ask him for?'
'I just thought he might find it odd if we're all gone and alert a member of staff if the lot of us don't turn up until after midnight,' said Lupin quietly.
'That's why I think we shouldn't take Peter. He could cover up for us.'
'He'll want to come, though,' retorted Lupin and Severus realized that he was walking towards the door. 'But if you think - I suppose he'd do you any favour. I think he likes you.'
The door opened. Severus withdrew behind it and saw Potter and Lupin disappear into the opposite direction. What tunnel had they been talking about?
He peered daringly into the now deserted classroom and his breath stopped. On the other side of the room, next to a small desk and a three-legged chair behind it there was a large mirror hanging right next to an equally large, black hole in the classroom wall. Whatever it was Potter and Lupin had discovered here - it certainly was not exceedingly difficult to find. Severus made a daring step forward and tried to peer into the hole, but it was all black. He had almost made up his mind to leave the classroom again when he heard hurried footsteps once more and froze. Someone was approaching the classroom very quickly, undoubtedly intending to enter it, as it was the only one on this side of the corridor.
With a jolt of panic Severus looked around and, finding no other place to hide, vanished into the black tunnel, which smelled strangely like the back of Professor Sprout's smaller greenhouse. He went in a few steps, so that he was covered in complete darkness and took a few deep, calming breaths. He supposed Lupin and Potter had forgotten something and one of them was coming back to get it. Sure enough, only seconds later Potter turned up at the doorstep again, his wand clutched tightly in front of his chest.
'I knew it! You forgot to close it again,' he breathed, tapping the mirror with his wand no less than three times. 'Colloportus.'
Before Severus could react, the huge mirror started to move and within seconds he was covered in complete darkness. He was trapped.
'Be more careful in future,' he heard Potter's sharp voice mutely through the closed entrance. 'Imagine if one of the Slytherins found our tunnel - or a teacher.'
'You don't suppose Filch knows about it, do you?' asked Lupin shakily.
'Of course not, stupid,' replied Potter impatiently. 'He would have sealed it with a charm or anything. I don't reckon we'd have been able to find it in that case.'
Their steps faded and Severus took out his wand. 'Colloportus,' he said quietly, but to his great horror, nothing happened. 'Colloportus,' he said again, more sharply, and tapped the inside of the mirror with his wand. 'Ooooh - why isn't this working?'
'Because you're too stupid,' said a nasty voice in his head. 'This is bound to be a spell only they can work.'
'Oh, what would you know?' he snarled, realized that he was talking to himself, and tried to fight the familiar lump rising inside his throat. Unsuccessfully. A tear fought its way down his cheek, and another. Now what was he going to do?