Chapter 25

The Wolfsbane Potion

The week following Harry's visit to The Burrow turned out to be almost as frustrating as the one before. The days went by with no news whatsoever from his father, and although Harry knew that Snape was indeed recovering, he still felt a twinge of unease whenever he thought of everything that had happened. How he wished that he'd be able to communicate with Snape in some way, even if it were only by short, cryptic messages – then he would at least know – be sure – that he was alive and reasonably well ...

Harry thought back at the few, short conversations they'd had back at The Burrow. At first he'd felt good about it (apart from the fact that he, Harry, had kept saying the most stupid, meaningless things) but now he was continually pondering what Snape had said, wondering what it really meant. He had sounded friendly, he definitely had. Hadn't he? And he'd said that the whole story with the Pensieve had been his fault ... Although it wasn't, of course. What if he'd only said that to humour Harry? And, what – what – had made Harry talk about James Potter? He'd had such a desperately tiny amount of time with his father, and he'd talked about James Potter ... Harry wanted to slap himself.

And then, when he'd asked if he could call him Dad ... What had Snape really thought then? Back then, in the room with Snape, Harry had felt all right about it all, but now ... now he didn't know what to think anymore. Snape hadn't sounded happy at hearing that ... But then, of course, Snape never sounded happy. But what way had he sounded? Harry kept thinking of this moment over and over again, wondering what Snape had thought of it. Maybe he – maybe he didn't really want Harry to call him Dad. He had looked ... stony-faced. But on the other hand he hadn't looked angry or anything ... As if he would though, he'd be far too polite.

Harry still hadn't heard anything about visiting Snape during the next weekend. What if he hadn't asked Dumbledore about it after all? He'd said he would, of course, but ... what if he didn't want to? ... Harry's stomach churned at the thought. What if Snape didn't really want to see him? Nobody had said anything to him, not McGonagall, not Lupin, and certainly not Dumbledore, whom Harry hadn't seen a lot lately.

Harry contemplated going to see the Headmaster about it, but decided against it. Dumbledore had been very busy since his trip to the Continent to speak to the European Confederation of Wizards. It seemed like the Order were now deeply involved in organising the resistance against Voldemort on an international level. Come to think of it, some of the teachers also seemed more preoccupied than usual, particularly Lupin and McGonagall, who also had the extra burden of taking Snape's Potions classes while he was away.

Lupin had actually seemed strangely nervous and jumpy lately; his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes had been unusually tame and boring, and yet they were nothing compared to his Potions classes. These were such a disaster that they almost made the students long for Snape's return – which was saying a lot.

Harry wondered if Lupin's odd behaviour had something to do with what McGonagall and Mr and Mrs Weasley had been discussing at The Burrow. Snape had clearly had something to do with this, so on Friday evening Harry decided to seek out Lupin, hoping he'd find out what was bothering him, but even more to try to find out what was going on with Snape.

He made his way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's office after dinner and knocked on the door. There were quick steps inside the room and, to Harry's surprise, the door was opened by Professor McGonagall.

'Oh, it's Potter,' she said flusteredly. She hesitated, then went on, 'Well, come in – quickly!' She stepped aside to let Harry in. Behind her, Lupin was standing, holding a goblet which was smoking faintly. McGonagall closed the door behind Harry, and locked it.

'Hello, Harry,' said Lupin, 'I'm afraid I don't have time to talk right now. I have to take this Potion at once.'

Harry suddenly realised that the goblet must be filled with Wolfsbane Potion; the moon had been nearly full the night before, but Harry hadn't really thought about it, preoccupied as he was with his father's illness.

'I'm sorry –' he began.

'You'd better hurry, Remus,' McGonagall said urgently.

Lupin nodded, and swept down the contents of the goblet in one huge gulp. At that very moment, Harry noticed the full moon outside the window. There were a few rays of moonlight shining on the somewhat dusty floor, and Harry saw Lupin look at the pale light, his face turning an ashen grey. There was a short pause as McGonagall and Harry stared at him for a few seconds, and then, slowly, he began to turn into a wolf. Harry had seen this happen once before, and that time Lupin had not been under the influence of Wolfsbane Potion. Harry was glad that he had taken it now.

'Potter!' McGonagall hissed at him. 'Be ready to run if the potion doesn't work.'

Harry looked at her in confusion. She was surveying Lupin with a wary expression on her face. What was she on about? Why shouldn't the potion work? But then, suddenly, it dawned on Harry that Snape was always the one who made the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin ... and Snape, of course, had been away for over two weeks. Lupin had once told Harry that there weren't many wizards who were up to making the potion. How had he managed to get hold of it now?

Harry turned to look at Lupin again. Would he really be safe? Or would Harry and McGonagall be running for their lives out of the office in a few seconds? Lupin's skin was by now completely covered with fur, and he was shrinking rapidly and developing a snout. Harry frowned. He seemed to be shrinking a lot more than he had the last time Harry had seen him transform into a wolf. In fact, he didn't really seem to be shrinking – he seemed to be deflating.

Harry and McGonagall stared at him in fascination until the transformation was complete, both prepared to bolt out of the office if he showed any signs of becoming aggressive. When Lupin had transformed, however, they were no longer staring at a man – nor were they staring at a wolf ... They were staring at a wolfskin rug.

'Oh, no ...' McGonagall said faintly. 'Oh, no, no ...' She knelt down in front of the big rug that was lying motionless on the floor. 'Remus?' she said, gently prodding the wolf's snout with her wand. It didn't move. The big, dark eyes were wide-open and glazed.

Harry knelt down beside McGonagall. 'Is he ...?' he said.

'Don't talk nonsense, Potter – now help me carry him,' McGonagall said, her voice stern and authoritative again. 'We must take him to Professor Dumbledore immediately.'

Harry nodded, and picked up the rug from the floor. It was very large and heavy, and awkward to carry. McGonagall grabbed the wolf's tail, supporting some of the weight, and opened the door so that they could walk out into the corridor.

They walked as fast as they could to Dumbledore's office, students staring at their odd load on the way. As they were rounding the corner to the corridor with the entrance to his office, McGonagall literally bumped into Draco Malfoy.

'Watch where you're going, Malfoy!' she snapped.

Despite the fact that he was worried about Lupin, Harry couldn't help enjoying this. He loved it when McGonagall had reason to be angry with the Slytherins, Draco Malfoy in particular.

'I can't see around corners, Professor,' Malfoy drawled. 'I'm not that mad Moody fellow.' Then he caught sight of Lupin. 'What's that?'

'Er ... a wolfskin rug,' said Harry.

'What are you doing with it?' Malfoy asked, eyeing the rug suspiciously. Its hind legs were trailing on the floor as McGonagall was trying to get a better grip of the tail, which had slipped from her hands when she and Malfoy collided.

'This is a gift for the Headmaster from a Russian wizard – one of his very dear friends, in fact,' McGonagall lied coolly, holding the tail firmly again. 'Not that it's any of your business, young man. Now stop dawdling about here and go back to your common room, or I shall have a word with Professor Snape about you.'

Malfoy snorted contemptuously. 'Considering Professor Snape seems to have vanished from the face of the Earth two weeks ago, and doesn't seem to be about to return any time soon, that doesn't really scare me very much. And even if he were here, I doubt he'd do anything about it.'

'Professor Snape will be back sooner than you think,' McGonagall said curtly. 'And if you don't watch your mouth I will give you a detention you won't forget any time soon. As it is, I'll simply take ten points from Slytherin. Now get out of here.'

Malfoy scowled at McGonagall, but walked off without any further remarks. As soon as he was gone, McGonagall gave the password to the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office, and they went up the spiral staircase. When they were up, McGonagall knocked on the heavy oak door, and entered with Harry in tow, without waiting for an answer.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, as usual, and standing on the other side of it was Snape. Harry was so surprised to see him that he dropped Lupin on the floor, and quickly scrambled to pick him up again.

Snape was looking quizzically at Harry and McGonagall. He looked much better than he had a week ago, when Harry had last seen him, but he was still much paler and thinner than he usually was.

'Minerva?' said Dumbledore, looking slightly bemused. 'Is something wrong?'

McGonagall dropped Lupin's tail on the floor, leaving Harry to balance the full weight of the wolfskin rug as best he could. 'I ... It's ...' she stammered, apparently at a loss for words.

Snape went over to Harry to relieve him of the rug, but as he reached out for it, his hands stopped in mid-air.

'Don't tell me that's ... Lupin?!' he said sharply.

Harry nodded. 'Yes.'

Snape closed his eyes for a second, slowly shaking his head. Then he grabbed hold of the tail of the rug, and together he and Harry heaved it onto Dumbledore's desk. They all stood staring at it for a few moments.

'He can't have put enough salt in the potion,' Snape said after a while.

'He tried to make the Wolfsbane Potion himself?' said Dumbledore incredulously.

'Well, I couldn't very well make it, could I?' Snape said irritably.

'I helped him,' said McGonagall, sounding almost embarrassed.

'But neither of you are qualified to make the Wolfsbane Potion, Minerva,' said Dumbledore. 'Why didn't you come to me?'

'Remus refused to discuss it with you,' McGonagall said defensively. 'He didn't want to bother you – he said you had enough on your mind anyway, considering recent developments internationally.'

Dumbledore sighed heavily. 'Well, I suppose he was right, or I wouldn't have forgotten that the full moon was approaching. I should have thought of it myself, and made the potion.' He bent down and began examining the rug closely.

'I specifically told him to add four spoons of salt,' Snape said, turning to McGonagall. 'Oh, I should have known something like this was going to happen. I should have made the potion myself, no matter how sick I was.'

'Don't be a fool, Severus,' McGonagall said angrily. 'You couldn't possibly have gotten out of bed a week ago. I'm to blame, if anyone; you have nothing to feel guilty about.'

'I'm not feeling guilty,' Snape snapped. 'I'm merely thinking about the fact that I shall now have to make three different restorative draughts, and spend an entire month spraying Lupin with saltwater every other hour!'

'So ... will he be all right?' said Harry.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape all started at his voice, as though they had forgotten that he was in the room.

'He will be fine, Harry,' Snape said softly. 'It will just take a while. And a lot of work,' he added, looking darkly at the wolfskin rug.

'Well, I guess that's good news, then,' said Harry, smiling at his father.

Dumbledore looked up from the rug. 'Ah, just look at the two of you ...' he said, beaming at Harry and Snape. 'You do look extraordinarily like your father, Harry. Except for your eyes, of course ... You have your mother's eyes.'

Snape rolled his eyes, and there was a loud snigger from the part of the wall where Phineas Nigellus's portrait was.

'Don't you agree, Minerva?' Dumbledore went on, disregarding Snape and Phineas.

'Remus is lying unconscious on your desk in the shape of a wolfskin rug, Albus,' McGonagall snapped. 'I hardly think this is the time to discuss family liknesses.'

'Of course, Minerva, you're quite right,' Dumbledore said airily. 'Well, I think we had better bring Remus to the Hospital Wing, so that Madam Pomfrey can spray him with saltwater. And Severus – I suppose he'll need the first restorative draught as soon as possible?'

'I'll start making it at once, Headmaster,' said Snape.

'Are you sure you're feeling up to it?' Dumbledore asked, eyeing Snape intently.

'I am perfectly fine,' said Snape.

'Very well,' said Dumbledore. 'In that case, why don't you and Harry bring poor Remus to the Hospital Wing ...'

Snape nodded and pointed his wand at Lupin. 'Locomotor wolfskin rug!'

Harry sighed with relief, and wished that McGonagall had thought to put that charm on Lupin when they were bringing him here.

'On second thought,' said Dumbledore, 'perhaps the two of you had better not be seen together in the castle. Minerva and Harry should take him instead. And that will give you more time to make those draughts, Severus.'

'Quite right,' said McGonagall, taking over the rug from Snape. 'Potter and I bumped into that awful Malfoy boy on our way here. He seemed very suspicious about the rug – and about Severus's absence. I took ten points from Slytherin.'

Snape muttered something under his breath.

'What was that, Severus?' McGonagall asked politely.

'You do what you must,' Snape said, just as politely.

But Harry was completely certain that he had heard Snape say 'Good for you.'

'While we're on the subject,' Snape went on, '– Harry, I intend to give you a detention when we have our next class together.'

Harry nodded. 'Right.' Now he'd finally get a chance to talk to him. He couldn't supress a quick grin, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Snape's face.

McGonagall, however, was frowning. 'Just don't take too many points from my House, will you, Severus?'

'I won't unless I have to,' said Snape, smirking.

'I'm sure you won't,' McGonagall muttered sarcastically. 'Well, come along, Potter.'

As he walked out of Dumbledore's office with McGonagall, Harry turned his head and saw his father looking at him unsmilingly. This time, it didn't make Harry feel bad, however; at least now he knew that Snape was back at Hogwarts, and well, and that he'd be seeing him soon again.

Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews. I am still very busy but I will try to update regularly. Feedback is always appreciated, even though I may not have time to comment on it.