Have Faith

Part four:

Dawn of the Dogs;

Hogsmeade

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author's note

okay, so this is kind of a one-shot, but after I wrote it, I realized it was crucial enough to both the characters of Severus and Sylvestra that it would be better to simply put it in as a flashback or dream sequence. Ergo, you have Have Faith part four. Enjoy!

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During that sleep, Severus Snape had a dream. It wasn't exactly a dream as much as it was a flashback. His memories of Sylvestra were coming back to him piece by piece. He dreamt of the first time he had actually talked to Sylvestra as a human being, instead of as a second-year.

Severus sneered down at the little Irish girl beaming up at him. Her skin was so pale it seemed to glow in the moonlight. It had taken him long enough planning to actually get him out of Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade, and this little girl just rode on his coattails the entire way. It was he who discovered the secret passage in the statue, so why should she get to share in the fun?

"Hi Severus!"

"Bug off, Sylvestra."

"No! I'm going to follow you!"

Severus made a disdainful noise in his throat, before pushing it out through his teeth, turning it into a hiss.

"Why won't you ever let me go with you? Wherever?!" She said as they started off down the barren street."

"Because you're an annoying little prick," He said matter-of-factly, staring straight ahead.

Because of Severus' long, lanky figure, and his obvious age advantage, Sylvestra had to power-walk to keep up with him. "Well having an annoying little prick as a friend is better than having no friends at all!" She blurted, grabbing the hem of his robe.

Severus whipped around, his dark eyes widened, making him look all the more vampiric with the dark circles under his eyes, and the dark hair in his face. Sylvestra was sure he was about to grow fangs and pounce on her. She let go of his cloak and shrank back into the shadow of a nearby building.

"What did you say?!" The fourth-year hissed as he and bent down, staring her in the face, so close, he could smell the pumpkin juice still on her breath. He ripped the cloak off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. It didn't make him seem any more impressive. In fact, it made him less impressive. With the cloak gone, one could see how narrow and bony his shoulders were, and how loosely his uniform, already a size small, fit him.

Sylvestra shivered a bit, in part because she forgot her cloak and her breath was starting to cloud, but mostly because of the dead chill in Snape's eyes. Nevertheless, she stood by what she said.

"I said isn't it better to have one extremely annoying, understanding friend, then no friends of any sort?" She asked again, a hint of defiance in her tone.

And what followed could only be described as a staring contest; those silly things that every child played at one point in their life, and that every child laid off playing by their eighth birthday. It was more complicated than that of course. It was a sort of battle of wills. And, as history is doomed to repeat itself, Sylvestra's will won over Severus'.

"What the fuck kind of excuse is that?" Mumbled the fourth-year, as the twelve year old skipped along beside him, "When I was your age, Sylvestra, I couldn't stay up past midnight if I wanted to..." He lied. Of course, he had heard others say that, so he thought it must've been the norm. He had always been nocturnal. Now if only the rest of the world could follow his example. It was much more efficient his way.

The young girl looked up at Severus Snape with unmasked adoration in her eyes. It was some miracle that he wasn't looking her way; he had just averted his eyes a second ago.

"An excuse."

"Yea. Your excuse is that you pity me because I have no friends?"

"It's not an excuse, and it's not pity."

"Well, for your information, I choose to have no friends. And what is it, if it's not pity, oh wise sage?" He drawled sarcasticly, having acquired the detestable, malignant habit from Lucius Malfoy, sort of a role model for the younger Severus.

"I don't know, maybe sympathy?" She shot back, returning his dripping sarcasm with pained venom. Up until that moment, Severus forgot he was dealing with a second-year. "Maybe I know what it's like to be alone? Maybe this Ravenclaw is tagging along with a Slytherin because no one else will take her..."

Her voice sounded strong, but from her eyes, which refused to look at him, he could tell she was hurt. But something in this equation didn't add up; She looked like the poster-child for a twelve-year-old popular brat. He hadn't even thought it was possible that this girl didn't have any friends. Something about her charisma reminded him of Lily. Maybe that was why he hated her so much; It was like a miniature Lily mocking him, never letting him forget that he wasn't good enough for her.

"You? How come no one likes you?' He asked as they wandered down the road to his rather unfriendly destination.

"You haven't heard my nickname?" She asked, looking at him, face flushed to a nice beet red.

Severus shook his head innocently. "No, I haven't."

"Well, the rest of the kids, they -- because I -- Severus, I'm a quidditch player. I know, I'm only twelve and stuff, but I've been playing with my family ever since I was five...When I'm in school, all I can think of is quidditch...so...I don't really pay attention. Everyone thinks I'm magically challenged. They call me Sylvestra the Squib..."

For the first time that night, Severus was visibly fazed. "They what?!"

Sylvestra nodded glumly and looked at her feet, kicking a pebble down the cobblestone road. "I knew you wouldn't like it..."

"Sylvestra that's...that's horrible...!"

Sylvestra merely nodded and looked away, to avoid him seeing the flush in her cheeks. For her, it had taken some courage to actually lie to Severus Snape. She justified it by telling herself it wasn't a lie, but just not the whole truth. Although they did make fun of her for her grades, the main reason that no one was her friend was because everyone knew of her 'secret' love for Severus. As well as calling her 'Sylvestra the Squib', they called her 'Sylvestra McSnivellus'.

As Severus finally came up to the gates of his final destination, Sylvestra's eyes widened and she stopped dead.

"What? Why here, Severus?" She asked as she scrambled away from the gate to the Shrieking Shack, tripping over herself and falling on the hard frosted ground. Severus' first instinct when he turned to her was to pull her up and to ask if she was okay, but he restrained, merely watching her as she picked herself up and wiped the snow off her backside, before he slowly turned his attention back to the house. The clouds were parted just enough here that the full moon shone through the haze, washing the area with a ghostly pale light. The two palest students at Hogwarts suddenly looked like they might disappear into the snow. Severus silently thanked his lucky stars.

After waiting five minutes and hearing nothing, he eased the door open, cringing at the horrible creaking noises it made. A little more hesitant than before, Sylvestra followed, shivering as she trudged her way through a heavy onset of new snow, adding to the week old, two foot deep powder. In Hogsmeade, everywhere else the snow had been cleared, but no one dared go close enough to the shrieking shack to actually do something about it.

Because of the differences in uniforms, Severus made somewhat faster progress. Sylvestra was getting slower by the minute, her legs only protected by the translucent stockings, her skirt coming down to mid-thigh. Over the course of the night, she had been developing a steady cough, and halfway down the long, embarrassingly winding path, she faltered and fell to her knees, too proud to call out for Severus' help.

She was lucky that, not five minutes later, Snape turned back to comment on the girl's quietness, and noticed she wasn't there. Within seconds, he was sprinting up the hill to where she had dropped, a worried expression on his face.

"Sylvestra!" He called, not sure if she was conscious. He was greeted by a fit of coughing.

"Oh Sylvestra, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, continuing to verbally kick himself as he wrapped his cloak around her and picked her up in his arms. But instead of heading back to Hogwarts, like he knew he should have, he turned around and continued towards the shack, some unforeseen burning desire pushing him onward.

Then, when he was not ten feet from the door, an earsplitting, horrifying, shrieking howl pierced the night. Severus froze, staring straight ahead at the doorknob. He felt a rustling near his chest and something like an ice cube press against the inside of his arm. Sylvestra had pressed her face in the crook of his arm, her nearly frostbitten nose against the thin starched material.

He took a cautious step or two forward, then reached his hand out, unsure if it was really the right thing to do. The young girl weighed heavily on his conscience. He was responsible if anything happened to her in there. But he needed to know if his theory was right, if Lupin was...

"Go in..." Came a hoarse whisper.

Severus looked down. "What?"

"Go on, I can tell you really want to. Go ahead and go in," Sylvestra said, glancing up at him, "And you can put me down now."

He quickly put her on her feet, but didn't bother to take the cloak from her. Everything seemed to go in slow motion for a moment. Sylvestra stood stock still, watching as Snape itched toward the door. He turned the knob, and pulled it an inch away from the threshold.

As soon as he did so, there was that same shriek, and through the gap in the doorway, he could see a furry gray mass lurching toward him. He tried to shut the door hurriedly, but the monster slashed through it. Grasping nothing but a brass knob, Severus fell back, trying to scramble away in the snow, to no avail. He could do nothing but watch in horror as the creature came toward him. As it thrust its head towards his neck, going in for a lethal bite, he saw a hand, seemingly come out of nowhere, grab the beast by its ear, and tug hard. The werewolf hesitated, then howled, turning to the owner of such a pale, delicate hand. Sylvestra gulped and started back.

The beast crouched down onto all fours, slowly approaching her, like a cat does a cornered mouse, knowing it has already won. Hurriedly, Severus fished around in his robes for his wand. No. That would take to long. He searched around and caught the glimpse of a fallen limb, about the size of a leg of lamb. He rose into a crouching position, plucking the branch from the snow and raising it over his head. With one sweep, he clubbed the beast upside the head.

"Go ahead, you bloody little fucker! That's right I hit you! Come after Me!!!" Severus snarled, his lips pulled back to reveal jagged teeth, his greasy hair falling in front of his eyes. For the second time that night, Sylvestra thought he might grow fangs and sink his teeth deep into flesh, be it hers, or the werewolf's.

Snape cursed himself. He was going to fight off a werewolf with a piece of wood?! Yeah right. But all that was running through his head was a way to get the beast away from the little second-year. He swung the branch at it like its head was a bludger. The beast just kept ducking and dodging, getting closer to him with each swing. Then he tried a thrust, bashing the end of the limb forcefully into the beast's abdomen. It let out a cry half way between a scream and a roar, clearly more enraged then it was hurt. It slashed out, destroying the damp tree branch and a good portion of Severus' arm in one swipe.

The boy cried out in pain, grasping his wound and looking up at the beast, his face a mix of anguish and resignation, but no fear whatsoever.

Then there came a barking. The beast stopped and turned, so did Severus. What he saw only made his heart fall more: A large black dog. Because of his studies he knew it was the grim. He moaned in despair. Not so much for his own life. He didn't care much for it anyway. He moaned because he made a fellow student, and his first...friend...if you could call her that, die.

But then there was no grim. In the blink of an eye, there stood Sirius, in the dog's place. He pointed his wand at the large beast, and roared "INCARCEROUS!"

Out of nowhere, ropes shot out and bound the werewolf were it stood, one particular rope so clever as to even wrap around the beasts muzzle. Severus stood there blinking, merely looking at the fellow seventh-year. The Sirius turned his attention to him, and all Snape could see was pure, unbridled rage in the boy's eyes.

"GO!!" He roared, and with a flick of his wrist pointed his wand to the pallid boy. Severus hurried back, glancing at Sylvestra who was already up and running toward him. Using his vest as a sling, he scrambled to join her, and the two never stopped sprinting until they got back to Honeyduke's basement, and the trap door that led back to school. It was only then, when they stopped running, that Snape realized he still clutched the doorknob.