The tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow was dank with the smell of rotting vegetation – vegetation, yes...and something else.
Something feral.
Something rank with flesh and fur -- and rage.
Crouching low, Sev fingered the wand in his sleeve to ensure it would be there when he wanted it. He made his way down the path. Roots hung in his face from above, dripping cold moisture; he thought he could hear the scurrying of rats.
Wet chunks of earth fell on his head and neck as he proceeded closer to that feral flesh and fur.
Closer to what he knew would be there –
Werewolf.
Remus Lupin, to be exact.
No matter; Severus Snape would be ready for him. He would allow the beast to come as close to him as he could bear; then he would apparate close to the tunnel entrance. Once there, he would fall to his hands and knees and scream his way out.
No one would suspect that a sixteen-year-old boy found under those circumstances – a boy as obviously terrified and distraught as he would appear – would be anything less than grievously wounded in body and in mind.
He would ask the Headmaster to expel the Marauders; he knew already Dumbledore would not. And so – with a few curses and threats on his part -- it would be done. The final schism between Albus Dumbledore and himself. The chasm between good and ill, cleared with one long and painful leap.
Severus checked the depth of the tunnel, noting that it was increasing in height the further in he went. Good; whereas a person could find his or her way out, no werewolf could get that far. Another safety measure.
Well, that was the Slytherin mind, wasn't it? Plot, and scheme, and take dubious action to your heart's content, but make sure you get out alive.
Alive.
And wouldn't that be his watchword once he joined Voldemort?
Sev held no illusions that he would be able to out-magick the Dark Lord. He was still a child, after all. However, even a child could be well versed in the Dark arts and possess sufficient finely-honed skills in saving his own skin.
Severus Snape had survived innumerable batterings and tortures, after all. Some of them had been so bad that even the healers of St. Mungo's had to obliviate them, for their own sanity as well as his. Severus Snape knew what to do.
The stench hit him quite suddenly.
He gasped and began to breathe through his mouth, an excellent way to avoid smelling something foul. He made his way silently through what he assumed was close to the end of the tunnel.
He was afraid; that was all to the good. Being afraid sharpened your senses and heightened your ability to move quickly when you had to. Snape now recalled that several protection spells, and White ones at that, now embraced him. Severus whispered one now, just for luck.
I am protected by your might
O gracious Goddess, day and night
Thrice around the circle's bound,
Evil sink into the ground.
There!
A light ahead!Severus now withdrew his wand, ready to use it to disapparate at the precise time when his life and death would hang in the balance, albeit briefly.
He saw an entrance into a room of some kind. What did he hear? Snarling. And the click of toenails on wood and the thud of something heavy. Sev felt it rather than heard it; bits of root-choked ceiling now crumbled onto his head and shoulders, scattering like black hexes.
No matter.
Here we go.
Here – we – go --The movement up ahead stopped. It was then when the Slytherin boy heard the outraged roar of his sort-of-sometimes friend, his classmate, one Remus Lupin to be exact, who'd had the misfortune of having been bitten by a werewolf at an early age.
Gone was the fragile sandy-haired boy who trailed in James Potter and Sirius Black's wake. In his place was a nightmare ten feet high, back and haunches curved, with scratches all over what passed for a snarling and evil face.
No, not a face. Not really. Severus gazed upon hollow burning eyes like flames in a pit and needle-sharp fangs and mindless horror, now standing about twenty feet ahead of him.
Two seconds passed and their eyes met.
Ah –
He sees me --!!
The foul creature whirled around with a scream of rage and pain and fell hunger, and burst through the narrow doorway to rip the throat out of the intruder. Severus reached into his sleeve to seize his wand, the disapparation charm in the forefront of his mind. And –
Suddenly –
Another voice.
"SEVERUS! TURN AWAY! GET MOVING! THIS WAY!"
Gasping in surprise and outrage, Severus whirled about to see a disheveled and panic-stricken James Potter, dressed in a black cloak smeared with dirt. He was at Snape's side in an instant.
"Severus. Let's get the hell OUT OF HERE!"
Snape ignored the Gryffindor, instead turning back to face the werewolf. He formed his features into an expression that reflected terror and fright, and his body froze.
As it should be.
"DAMMIT, SEV! MOVE IT!" James cuffed the Slytherin in the back of the head. "GET GOING!" He slid in front of the boy and turned him around and placed his hands on the Slytherin boy's back and shoved as hard as he could.
"Two of us can't fit through the opening! I'll be right behind you! RUN!"Severus did just that.
Stumbling about twenty feet ahead of Potter, he tripped over a clod of dirt and sprawled full-length on the tunnel floor, falling so heavily that his teeth bit down on his lower lip.
He tasted the coppery taste of blood. Good. More evidence of trauma for the Headmaster to ignore.
Snape thought that James would have followed right along behind him, but he did not. In a moment of terror, Severus realized that his friend was still where he had left him.
Dammit! So much for plans!Sev's fingers slid away from his wand and scrabbled instead for purchase on the damp earth, clumps of it wedging under his fingernails like dreadful souvenirs. He turned back to rescue his friend.
If we get out of this alive, Potter, we'll eat a hundred Pig Cakes! We'll play rock and pebble Quidditch all we want and Dumbledore will waive our final exams!
Just then, Sev heard snarls and bellows and the clattering of something oddly hard against the roots that hung from the ceiling. He did not see a boy and a foul beast behind him, but two animals, battling it out.
Severus knew he could not help James now. He was no longer James, and Remus was no longer Remus.
Turn around, then.
More innumerable falls. More innumerable starts.
Time stretched into a backwash of forever.
And then -- like a prayer granted -- the opening of the tunnel loomed before him.
In a moment, Severus Snape was there.
In another, Severus Snape was out.
He let loose with a shriek; his eyes gratefully took in the images of stars and cloaked figures approaching him.
Figures --?
"Hold on, Son, I've got you!" shouted Albus Dumbledore.
"Oh gods! And where is James Potter?" cried Minerva McGonagall.
FATHER! IT'S FATHER! THANK THE GODS AND GODDESSES ON HIGH! MY FATHER CAME TO HELP ME!
Severus instinctively held out his arms to embrace his savior. How many times had this blessed old soul saved his life and his sanity, after all? He wanted to cry out "Father!" and lose himself in the Headmaster's loving hug of acceptance and safety.
But he could not.
Severus remembered in the nick of time.
He threw off the man's arms and shoved him away.
"Get the hell away from me!" Severus screamed. He heard a gasp from Professor Penderdandis, his own Head of House.
Too afraid himself to take hold of the boy, Penderdandis instead grasped Dumbledore's cloak. "Don't touch him, Albus! He's not in his right mind!"
Severus sprawled out on the lawn right next to the Whomping Willow, howling out his sadness and loss into the moist grass. It smelled good, and the cool soil felt good against his bruised face. His mind blurted a mantra of panicked thought mixed up with prayer –
James don't die James don't die James don't die James don't die James don't die James don't die James don't die James don't die --
And then – as he rolled over and gazed at the constellation Orion looming light-years over his head – his mind began to function once more.
How can I destroy our friendship when he thinks he saved my life? Of course he would. We took the Wizard's Oath together!
With a sudden thud of dread remembrance in his heart, Severus staggered to his feet and ran back toward the entrance to the tunnel. Minerva McGonagall cried out for him to stop, but her outstretched hand only brushed the edge of his cloak.
Must save James
Must save my friend
Must –
And then a sudden impact knocked Snape to his knees.
"Sev! Oh, thank the Father and Mother of all!" James Potter's face pressed next to his, the Gryffindor boy's hands crawling over his shoulders and embracing him in a clumsy hug. "You're alive!"
Severus' heart broke as he threw off his friend's arms.
The Slytherin boy finally collapsed, giving it up for now, exhausted with sick fear and regret and loss and panic, pitching backward and hitting the soft grass.
The last thing he remembered was the hand of Albus Dumbledore on his forehead, charming his sleep, healing his injuries, and soothing his troubled and guilty soul.
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