Friendship

In the Slytherin common room the only torch lit was flickering by now, threatening to die any minute. Beneath it, there was a small figure sitting in its feeble cone of light, pressing a dark, slim wand against an oversized Transfiguration textbook.

'Reducto,' he said forcefully, causing the book to explode with a loud banging noise.

Severus Snape jumped and recoiled.

'No!' he burst out, 'no, no, no!'

A hand appeared before his face and before Severus could help it, Skein had given him a ringing slap on both cheeks, glaring down at him from a posture not unlike his father's when he was coming to inspect Severus's homework.

Severus recoiled slightly, involuntarily.

'I didn't know you were back,' he whispered, holding his cheek with one hand while watching Skein up and down. 'Where have you been?'

'Oh, here and there,' was Skein's off-hand reply. 'Can't stay with someone like you all day long, can I?' He laughed. Severus felt his gaze darken.

'I've been trying to do the spell McGonagall showed me,' he explained. 'But it's not working very well.'

'That is because you're not working hard enough,' prompted Skein, settling down in an armchair at Severus's side. 'I mean, really, wasn't this the spell you should have learned weeks ago?'

'Months,' mumbled Severus. I am doing remedial Transfiguration lessons.'

'I know,' said Skein disapprovingly. 'Pathetic, really, that you should need them.'

'I know,' whispered Severus. 'There's no need to tell me again.'

'I am just stating facts,' remarked Skein. 'But do continue. You'll have to practise a lot to keep up with those classmates of yours.'

Severus hesitated, then nodded. He got up and took one of the vases from the mantelpiece, not without throwing uneasy side-glances at Skein. What was it about his friend that felt so strange? He did remind Severus of someone, but it seemed impossible to tell for sure.

Without concentration much on what he was doing Severus took the vase in one hand, threw a doubting look at it, tapped it with his wand lightly, and retried the spell.

The vase exploded.

Once again, Skein's hand was quicker than Severus could react. His cheek was burning as he was stumbling back from his friend, one hand flinging to his face, the other holding the remains of the broken vase. His wand fell onto the carpet with a hollow thud.

'Severus!'

He turned on his heels.

Through the door opening into the corridor that led towards the Slytherin dormitories the figure of Lucius Malfoy stepped into the semidarkness of the common room, holding onto the door frame, his face displaying confusion and, it seemed, mild anger about the nightly disturbance.

'What do you think you're doing?'

'Nothing,' said Severus quickly, picking up his wand from the floor. 'A bit of homework.'

'Did I just see you slapping yourself?' said Lucius, marvelling at something impossible to grasp. Severus frowned.

'Don't be ridiculous.'

'But you did,' insisted the Head Boy. 'I've seen you.'

'You've seen Skein,' snapped Severus indignantly. 'That is something entirely different!'

'Who?' said Lucius, a contemptuous sneer playing around his mouth. Severus gave him a death glare.

'You don't understand anything!' he said. 'That's just typical. I was just doing homework. And Skein.'

'Who is Skein?' insisted Lucius sternly. 'I haven't seen anyone in here apart from you, and I assure you that I have been watching you for some time.'

'Rubbish,' said Severus, looking around to see if Skein was perhaps still there, watching the scene. 'He was just here with me. He's gone now, but he was here. Why would I... be slapping myself?'

He was confused. Lucius gave him another sneer.

'Because you think you won't learn otherwise, I suppose. Which is most probably true. Still... it's quite alarming that you don't notice what you're doing.'

'I have not been slapping myself!' insisted Severus, noticing his fists clenching tightly in his pockets. 'Stop being an idiot!'

'Careful!' hissed Lucius. 'Not a step too far, little Snape. I know what I've seen!'

'Apparently you don't!' hissed Severus. 'And I don't care what you think! McGonagall said I shouldn't!'

'You misunderstand our deputy headmistress then,' replied Lucius after a moment's consideration. 'I am sure she has no intention of having you question authorities. And I am an authority,' he added dangerously, 'besides being your friend.'

Severus threw him a cautious look, knowing that people tended to get unpleasant about topics like this.

'You know, Severus,' said Lucius eventually, 'for some weird reason I have come to like you.'

He threw a cautious glance into all corners to make sure that no one was present, then spoke in a low, though very determined voice.

'I have trusted you,' he said. 'I have entrusted you with secrets I was sworn never to disclose. You have not disappointed me so far, and I advise you not to start now. If you want us to be friends, you will have to recognise that your place is beneath me.' He bend down, just an inch, and glared directly into Severus's eyes, who put all effort into returning his look without blinking.

'You think 'no talking back' refers to your father only, don't you?' whispered Lucius, an edge to his voice that Severus had never perceived in it before. 'You think you don't owe me the same respect?'

Severus felt a cold shiver run down his spine and drew his shoulders up to his ears. 'See here...' he began. 'He's my father, after all...'

'And that is a reason to stubbornly go against any authority as soon as he leaves the room?' hissed Lucius, his hand gradually moving towards Severus's neck.

'No, no, of course not...' said Severus quickly, taking two steps backwards, out of the reach of his friend's threatening grip. 'Please... I was confused. I... I'm just tired. Can't I just go to bed?'

Lucius hesitated, just for a moment, then straightened up.

'Very well,' he said coldly, motioning Severus in the direction of the dormitories. 'It is getting late. You ought to stop doing your homework at night. You won't catch any sleep.'

'I don't sleep much anyway,' whispered Severus. Lucius ignored him.

'And stop destroying school property,' he continued, pointing his wand at the pieces of vase on the floor. 'Reparo.'

'Sorry,' whispered Severus, now fully confused.

'Never mind,' replied Lucius in an off-hand voice. 'You remember what I told you a few days ago?'

Severus nodded.

'And you're still with us?'

'I'd like to come,' said Severus, taking all the courage he could muster. 'To a meeting, I mean.'

Lucius laughed. 'We don't take children,' he replied. 'This isn't some sort of game. But if you manage your OWLs without changing your opinion, I am sure I'll be able to put in a good word for you.'

Severus nodded. With considerably more on his head than just an hour ago, he vanished in the direction of the third-year dormitories.

The name Remus was traditional in his mother's family. It seemed odd to be named after hundreds of dead Cuncytaws, but Remus had come to realise that bearing a traditional wizarding name had some advantage when it came to being recognised as a Halfblood among his classmates. All too often, after all, his Pureblood name had prevented people from dropping remarks or harassing him because of his father. And since attacks of this kind against Muggle-born wizards and witches had increased over the past years Remus was quite thankful not to be one of those who could be identified as non-Purebloods from a ten-mile-distance.

He threw a scrutinising look at the small trapdoor at the ceiling through which the new day's first feeble sunbeams made their way into the vault, barely enough to give any sort of hope. A small sigh emerged Remus's mouth. Light, fresh air, freedom - it seemed ages since they had been locked in here. A fortnight precisely, Remus calculated. He tended to know what time of the month it was. The sunbeams flickered and he sighed again. At least it was not the light of the full moon - as yet.

Balbina had moved backwards a bit and was now leaning against the mossy dungeon wall, staring into nothingness, chewing one of her blonde pigtails pensively. Her hands were resting on her lap, bound with something Remus had identified as leather string just like his own. The girl's eyes were half closed and she had drawn both legs as firmly as possible against her body - because of the cold, Remus assumed.

Personally, he felt neither cold nor heat, except for the occasional draught that flowed through the vault whenever someone opened the heavy iron door through which they had entered these dwellings days, no - weeks ago. And then, of course, there was the heat.

For the second time today Remus felt a surge of it rise inside his lungs and for the second time he gasped.

Balbina looked up.

'A-all right?' she muttered. Remus nodded, coughing.

'Thirsty,' he muttered back, cautious not to wake those who had decided to take an afternoon's nap. Most of them had lost count of days - but not Remus. He knew. The heat told him.

'And it's getting late.'

Balbina knew what he meant. She was the only one who did, apart from Sirius, James, and Peter, but none of them was here at the moment. None of them had been kidnapped.

'You o-ought to warn them,' whispered Balbina, taking her hair out of her mouth. 'This is t-too d-dangerous. F-for all of us.'

'I know it's dangerous,' whispered Remus back. 'And I know what I ought to do. But it's not as easy as it sounds. They hate Muggleborns, don't they? What do you think they'll do with... with me?'

Balbina closed her eyes, just for a second.

'I see,' she muttered eventually, 'b-but c-couldn't you... what if you t-tell them some sort of s-story...?'

'Like what?' whispered Remus, as quietly as he could, in spite of a slight anger rising inside him. 'That I am sick and need an extra room? With double iron doors and no windows?'

'Shush,' hissed Balbina. Remus frowned. She was right. This was not the place, nor the time.

Then he realised that the girl's reason to demand caution was another. The iron door's lock made a small click, then another one, and eventually the room was full of people with hooded robes and masks again.

For a second, Remus thought his limbs had frozen. The appearance of so many of the Knights (and such they were, as he had known from the first moment they had appeared on the train) tended to have this effect on him, and this time they were more than ever. After a short while, one of the dark figures positioned himself in the middle of the room, glanced around, and then spoke in a dark, very familiar voice, sounding slightly contemptuous.

'I know that there is a werewolf among you. You have ten seconds to disclose your identity, otherwise I'll choose randomly among you and kill the person on spot.'

Sirius woke with a start.

There was light all around him, and voices. It seemed unlikely and quite embarrassing, but he realised that he had once again fallen asleep during a lesson.

James gave an angry snort when his friend pushed his side.

'What!'

'I've gotta know something,' whispered Sirius, cautious to keep his voice down. 'What time is it?'

'Ten minutes later than before,' said James grumpily. 'Stop asking. And get out some parchment.'

'What happened?' muttered Sirius. 'I fell asleep.'

'I noticed,' hissed James. 'This is getting stupid. You ought to stop reading till dawn, then you wouldn't be tired all day.'

'Well?' said Sirius impatiently, noticing that everyone else was writing.

'Binns is going to check on whether everyone has read the stupid chapter,' said James tiredly. 'We are to write down a couple of things. See there,' he pointed at the blackboard.

Sirius sighed. 'Damn,' he muttered, stretching his limbs. 'Can't remember what was in it.'

'Arthur,' mumbled James as quickly as he could, throwing quick glances at Binns who was hovering nearer by the minute. 'Knights of the Round Table,' remember?'

Sirius shook his head.

'Today's dwarves are the descendants of Gawain and Galahad,' whispered James as quickly as possible while starting to scribble on his way. 'That's why they keep digging. They've searched the whole of the surface for the Holy Grail, now they're going underground. That's also why they're so small. Cause of the tunnels. To do with evolution, not magic.'

'What rubbish,' mumbled Sirius, but he began writing like all the others. 'When it isn't magic - why learn about it?'

When the lesson was over (and with it several strenuous attempts on Sirius's side of adapting James's text without quoting) all three friends walked back to Gryffindor tower in a swift walk. Sirius was leading the way. He had just remembered something and needed to check if he was right.

Having reached the third-year dormitory James slumped on his bed while Sirius took out one of the many books from under Remus's bed and started reading. Peter gave him a mystified look.

'You missed your lecture a lot, didn't you?' he said.

Sirius shut him with a glance. Then, suddenly, he found what he was looking for. In one smooth movement he placed the book on his bed, took out his wand, outstretched his left hand, and said: 'Lunares,' in a clear and determined voice.

Peter jumped back as something like a white, gleaming, though oversized egg appeared hovering over his friend's hand.

'What is that?'

'The moon,' replied Sirius dryly. 'It's one of Remus's more frequent spells, though I've only ever once seen him perform it. But see here - my assumption was correct. There is terribly little time left until he's transforming again. I didn't even think of that. Well, I did, but it wasn't so close then. What if they locked all of them in the same room and he transforms? Worse - what if they find him out and kill him?'

'Gee,' said Peter, slightly taken aback, 'you need to sort out your priorities.'

'I could have told you,' said James suddenly, without getting up from his lying position on his bed. 'McGonagall's been worried about that for ages. You aren't the first to come up with this idea, you know.'

Sirius stared at his friend, not without surprise.

'How do you know what McGonagall's been thinking?'

'She's been discussing things with Fumes,' replied James loftily. 'Down at the Quidditch pitch. I overheard their conversation by sheer accident while getting ready for practice.'

'Of course,' said Sirius sourly. 'When was that? And what else did she say?'

'Yesterday,' replied James lazily. 'No big deal. They were discussing... things. I didn't want to tell you, because that would have meant admitting that you have been right all along.' He grinned, but only for a brief moment. 'They don't have a clue what they should do about the kidnap matter,' he continued. 'Not even the Aurors do. Not to mention that useless wizarding army.'

'Told ya,' remarked Sirius. 'So what did she say?'

'They're searching The Forest,' replied James. 'Obviously without success. Lots of soldiers and some Aurors. But I knew that, of course.'

'More,' said Sirius curtly. 'What else?'

'Listen,' snapped James, suddenly in a bad mood, 'I am not your personal spy. I can't remember. Nothing of importance. We can't do anything anyway, right?'

There was a short silence.

'Wrong,' said Sirius eventually, his fists clenching. 'We don't do anything. That is the problem. I've been saying it for ages. We have to go and save him. It's our bloody duty as friends.'

Another silence descended. Then Peter cleared his throat.

'We won't be able to get out of the castle unnoticed, Sirius. We can't stay away from lessons for an unknown amount of time. Fumes is going to kill us. You have seen the man. Who knows what he's capable of.'

'Plus,' added James, 'we won't survive The Forest or an encounter with those kidnapping bastards for a second. Will you think before you make such suggestions, Sir Eye-Us?'

'I did think,' said Sirius determinedly. 'And I am sick and tired of you calling me that. I told you.'

'I think it's funny,' retorted James. 'And since you seem incapable of thinking of a proper nickname like Wormtail here...'

'DON'T call me that!'

'Right,' said James after a short moment of laughter and bantering at Peter's expense. 'So what do you suggest we should do?'