XI - Weapons and Tools
15th September 1997
The early morning hours of the 15th of September passed in as surreal a manner as only being in the body of an aware werewolf could.
As uncomfortable as Severus was with forced social gatherings and parties, he discovered he didn't mind them half so much in wolf form. Once the initial violent power struggle had taken place, and the pack had been restructured to fit in any newcomers into the hierarchy, the werewolves were remarkably mellow with one another.
Next on the agenda was the slaughtering of a few more fat and overfed Serpentine Lake geese, followed by an hour or two of lolling and sitting while washing blood off of each other's jaws and necks. After Hyde park closed to humans for the night, the London pack meeting on the island finally ended, with around thirty wolves heading back South, and the rest North.
Lupin made for a curiously contrasting pack Alpha; Snape noted that the wolves did not yelp and cower away from him as they had done with Greyback, rather they peered at him expectantly, some even sniffing and brushing up against him while wagging their tails.
Severus guessed this part of the night could be where a more serious hunt would be expected to take place… He had heard Greyback bragging of his pack waking up in the morning surrounded by numerous Muggle bodies and bloodshed, and that the Muggle papers were struggling to think up a more plausible excuse for the atrocities than "Man kills six in savage terrorist knife attack."
It was greatly fortunate then, that their evening had so far gone to plan, and for Lupinwolf to now be in charge. It would be interesting to see how he would respond…
The great brown werewolf led them silently through the shadows of the capital's quiet back streets, past rows of shops with their security shutters down, stopping occasionally to sniff the air and listen.
Suddenly, they heard a distant sound of breaking glass and an alarm ring out. Lupin broke into a gallop, with his pack in swift pursuit. As the pack turned the final corner they saw three men in hoodies and scarves over their faces helping themselves to the contents of a jeweller's shop. A security shutter had been wrenched out of place, and an old Range Rover stood in the middle of the street with its engine running.
With the deafening noise of the alarm, the men did not hear the wolves coming, in fact the first thing they did know of them is when they were flung flat onto their backs. Their ends were so quick they hardly had time to scream, much less make out what it was that was attacking them, or register their stomachs being opened, or their throats being torn out...
Severus tried to ignore the fact that his senses were buzzing...he was salivating at the smell of the kills. Goose blood he could allow, but while he was compos mentis under Wolfsbane he vowed he wouldn't touch human blood - it was a transgression far too far. While Lupinwolf had not hesitated in breaking the neck of one of the burglars for a swift ending, he was not busy tearing at the bodies like the rest of the pack. Instead he chose to sit back on his haunches and watch the scene dispassionately.
The rest of the pack would see his act as one of a generous leader. They were undoubtedly mostly Muggle werewolves; apart from the old, grizzled wolf, most of them seemed quite young, strong, and recently turned thanks to Greyback's recent recruitment drive... They wouldn't have any access to Wolfsbane, and thus would wake up at dawn with little to no memory of what they had been up to this balmy Summer night…
Severus' gaze rested on the old wolf, and he wondered then who he was. His smell wasn't familiar to him, certainly not a Death Eater or anyone obviously connected to Hogwarts, but perhaps he may still be a wizard.
He had half a mind to persuade the wolf back to their garage hideout, or follow him back home just to find out…
Or, he could just ask Lupin when they transformed back, of course…
x-X-x
"The old chap? Oh, that's the Home Secretary. He was bitten to order a year or two ago, the poor guy," replied Lupin tonelessly, brushing stray hairs off of his tweed jacket.
"The-" Snape stopped short as realisation hit him.
The Muggle Home Secretary, the top Member of Parliament responsible for state security. A werewolf.
Mind you it made sense, the Dark Lord liked to have influence at all levels of power, it was very likely that there had also been some kind of blackmail or extortion going on. It also explained the blind eye and Muggle media excuses for the recent increase in deaths from werewolf attacks.
As Snape performed cleaning spells on his robes to get rid of the must and dust of a night they'd spent hanging up in a dreary concrete garage, he noted that Lupin looked more sickly greyish than usual - compared to last month.
"What's eating at you? Power becoming a burden already?"
"I just hope those men didn't have children, or anything," replied the Gryffindor quietly.
Severus made a dismissive gesture. "Let it go Lupin...They were lawbreakers, thieves, I noticed they even had a shotgun in the vehicle, which I am sure they would have had little hesitation using on anyone who confronted them. The Metropolitan police certainly won't care about the disappearance of a violent robber gang. Better them than kids; Greyback's preference..."
"Yes...I know…I just wish that the pack didn't expect a hunt at the full moon, that we didn't have to kill anybody..." Sighed Lupin.
The Slytherin's reply was truly sardonic. "My heart bleeds for you. I wish was on a beach somewhere rather than leading a school of rebellious brats, pleasing a megalomaniac sadist of a wizard and his troupe of dunderheads, or banishing dog fleas from my robes...but I guess wizarding life can't all be a bed of roses, can it…?"
That at least got a dry chuckle from the Gryffindor.
x-X-x
15th October 1997
The Gringott's Bank Goblin peered curiously at the long, cloth-covered parcel in front of him, it looked remarkably sword-shaped.
"See that this is secured in the requested vault please Rurdagg; it is no longer safe from the students here. I caught a group of them trying to pinch it just this morning."
Rurdagg bowed, his long nose almost touching the floor. "As you wish Headmaster Snape."
After the Goblin had disappeared with the parcel, Snape put his elbows on his desk, his head in his hands and hissed out a long and weary sigh. Of course, he wouldn't have expected anything less audacious from a Weasley and their compatriots; burglarising his office, smashing the glass case and making off with the Sword in the middle of the school lunchbreak…
Or rather, the fake sword - fortunately the real one was safely concealed in a small compartment behind the previous Headmaster's portrait. Only he and Albus knew where the real one was stashed…
He poured himself a double firewhiskey and took a gulp, closing his eyes.
"Fortitude, Severus," said the portrait gently.
Severus cast a muffliato to make the conversation between himself and the portrait private. "If fortitude came in non-damaging, non-addictive liquid form, I'd happily be brewing, distilling or otherwise fermenting it…" he replied, glowering into his whiskey tumbler. "As it is, I'm left with drowning myself in Old Ogden's, and even now I cannot risk abusing it as much as I used to…"
"Your Old Ogden's intake is still approximately half that of Dippet's at his worst, so I don't think we need worry at this stage," replied Albus dryly.
Snape scoffed. "Any level of alcohol dependency concerns me Albus; some of us do not wish to end up permanently pickled with brains shot to hell... As this morning's brazen escapade demonstrates, a proportion of the students are now quite emboldened in their silent rebellion against me, not to mention a proportion of the staff body as well. And - as for the Icing atop this damned heap of harpy shit - as of last week I am now receiving frequent anonymous howlers… A few of them are carefully charmed so they cannot be burned using incendio; if you attempt to incinerate them they reward you with ear-knifing banshee screams to rival Mrs Black twice over. I now have to cast a silencing charm on all my incoming mail, and isolate any offensives in a bubble until I have the nerve to deal with them…"
He picked up an envelope from his desk and held it at the end of his nose, taking in a slow breath, his eyes half-lidded. "However - the sender of these howlers is not as anonymous and safe from me as they might assume themselves to be; I detect a trace of scent left inside this last envelope - the smell of taxidermy, a bird, quite large, an omnivore, but not a corvid. A vulture methinks… Which suggests the culprit is Augusta Longbottom… "
Dumbledore studied his frowning, black-clad colleague, now headmaster sat at his old desk, eyes glittering, fingers steepled and lip curling enough to reveal teeth. He somehow looked even more predatory and sinister than usual, which was saying something. "Your newfound sense of smell is truly extraordinary, Severus. Which reminds me; the full moon is tonight, isn't it… ?" He added casually.
Black eyes fixed suspiciously on him. "What has Phineas told you?"
"Phineas has actually not told me anything, in fact since our disagreement regarding famous Muggle authors we are not even on speaking terms at present." Returned Albus, taking a bag of lemon drops from his gaily blue-spangled robes and casually popping one into his mouth. "I merely have the ability to think laterally, that is all. I know the signs to look for, they are very clear when you know... The only burning question I now have is who bit you, was it Greyback?"
At this the Slytherin gave a nasty smile. "I'm sure you would love to think it was Greyback, Albus, but alas, it wasn't. Think more along the lines of former employee and fellow Gryffindor…"
Albus stopped mid-lemondrop-chew, a startled expression crossing his features. "When did this happen?"
"Three months ago in Grimmauld Place, and outside of the full moon. It took him, and of course me, entirely by surprise... We are still not clear of the exact cause, though I would suggest an extreme state of feral mania brought on by trauma, little to no sleep, and - of course - much abuse of liquor…"
"This is most unusual," murmured Albus. "It suggests Remus had a will to transform, a magical override, something only seen in Animagi…"
"It is a blood curse, Albus, there isn't a connection to Animagi…"
"Not in the obvious sense, I am merely recalling Xenophilus Lovegood's theory that Lycanthropes are 'stuck shapeshifters.' You know that a wizard cannot be both an Animagi and a Lycanthrope, those infected with the latter discover they can no longer transform at will, the blood curse takes over, it is as if the blood itself is restricting the shifting of form to lupine, and lunar phases only."
"Lovegood, Albus…" Sneered Snape. "You are spouting a theory of a man who believes in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks…!"
"What you should be asking yourself here, Severus, is whether a wizard with an extensive knowledge of dark curses and a mastery of Potions can apply himself to find a solution? We also mustn't forget that Muggles are becoming increasingly knowledgeable and adept at genetics and blood transfusions, I believe you could learn from them - a phlebotomist, virologist, or geneticist may now be able to isolate what precisely it is about a Lycanthrope's blood that makes him transform..."
Snape raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I cancelled your subscriptions to the Lancet and the BMJ, are you suggesting I renew them…?"
"In light of your current plight, I would think this would be a sensible idea to keep on top of current Muggle research, and viable contacts..."
The Slytherin looked bemused. "Perhaps I shall... However, I find it amusing that you believe Lycanthropy is serious enough to be considered a plight for someone like me, Albus, I, who have both the finances and the ability to brew modified Wolfsbane. I can keep my full mental faculties, plus have acquired an incredible sense of smell, and I get to run free once a month. Compared to other plights I am lumbered with, lycanthropy is a markedly small one…!"
"It is still a plight for most people…As Remus will attest," said Dumbledore soberly. "And your status is still unknown for the moment - once people discover what you are, you will come to realise the sheer level of discrimination and distrust suffered by people such as Remus has experienced his entire life."
Snape let out a bitter laugh. "You seem to forget that I am already a pariah Albus. I rule purely by terror at this school now, I have sociopathic despots as deputies, and no viable friends anymore..."
"You still have a few…" Reminded the portrait gently.
"No, I do not," corrected Snape. "I have none. I cannot even speak to bloody Minerva... I may have acquired a wolfpack this past month or so, but mutts don't count…!"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Not even Alpha mutts?"
Snape set his whiskey glass down hard on the desk and stood up, glaring back at the former headmaster. "I do not wish to be friends with the last Marauder, Albus, his past history is not something I can just brush aside. He also bit me...does your sugar-addled mind think that is good groundwork for declaring us best pals?!"
"Nothing is ever brushed aside in life, Severus, it is suffered through and even then the suffering may never end, grief just becomes duller and more bearable. The fact that you are working with him, and helped him to gain power over the London pack, despite such an incident is remarkable. The loss of the pack's allegiance to Voldemort is a great boon to the Order. Greyback was wreaking havoc and damage, literally and reputationally for all werewolves, and I am glad to see the back of him."
"Becoming Alpha has done little for Lupin's self-confidence, or his dress code" replied the Slytherin snarkily. "He still looks and sounds an utter human shambles... I personally have no idea what the wolves see in him…"
"They see a fair leader, who rules by wisdom and justice, I should imagine. Werewolves are not by heart chaotic creatures, they crave the structure and predictability of a pack and a leader, and Remus has given them that. Only a lone wolf without a pack is in danger of becoming a truly chaotic soul, it would be wise of you to remember that...Don't shut yourself up alone, Severus, especially not now..."
Snape glowered, gripping the edge of his desk with his hands. He had little to say to that.
The Gryffindor ruminated over his latest lemon drop. "So is Tom aware of your...new status? Has he detected anything?"
The Slytherin's mouth thinned. "He noticed I was feverish on the first meeting after I had been bitten, but that was merely hours afterwards, and I was careful to blame my symptoms on severe sleep deprivation. As long as I am not unlucky enough to be summoned to him at the full moon, I believe I will be able to keep it from him for a little while longer…I realise he probably will need to be told at some point."
"I agree...you cannot leave it too long."
"As you know, he doesn't rate Lycanthropes so highly, obviously, they are little more than dumb dog soldiers to him. Greyback was a useful pet - sociopathic, low intelligence, and happy to lap up all his orders with glee, no questions asked… The Dark Lord was displeased at his death, and more so that it was by the hand of a Order member...But I believe the loss of the Wolves' alliance doesn't mean an immense deal to him in the grand plan of things. Many of the pack members are Muggles, anyway, and so are of no magical use to him."
Albus smiled. "Yet he has now lost the regard of the Muggle Home Secretary, a win for the Order, that. And, my boy, just imagine if you could ever discover the secret of wilful transformation...or even a cure..."
Severus was about to fire back a retort that would have asked Albus exactly when he thought he would have time to do such painstaking and time consuming research, however, their conversation was brought to an abrupt end by Phineas Nigellus Black sliding back into his portrait frame and holding his hand up to draw their attention. Snape abruptly modified the Muffliato spell to include him.
"Yes, Phineas?"
"Headmaster, I have just had a most interesting conversation with the teenagers - they pulled my portrait out to enquire about the sword, and what Dumbledore last used it for. I told them that I last saw him use it to strike and break a ring. The Potter boy seemed particularly curious about that..."
Albus's expression stilled and grew serious. "Thank you Phineas. Severus, my dear boy, I believe the time is fast approaching where you will need to hand the sword over to Harry..."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "And how do you imagine I will be able to safely achieve that?"
"I'm sure you'll find an inventive method..." mused the old wizard.
A/N: I have done some artwork for this story - a front cover page, hopefully you can see it (on desktop website view, if not mobile view) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!