Chapter 28
A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."
Severus Snape doubled over as if the air had been violently sucked out of his lungs. What? Not possible! He dropped to one knee, his head swimming in hazy confusion. Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall continued to walk along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, their voices low with concern. Snape watched their retreating backs, but his eyes went unfocused…his heart tried to break free of his rib cage and fly away…hot bile slowly rose to his throat…how can this be…
"My boy, are you alright?"
Hands grasped Snape under his arms and lifted him upright.
"How…how is escape…possible?"
"Yes, Albus, how could he have slipped past the dementors?"
Dumbledore looked from the shaken wizard to the troubled witch. Yes indeed, how was escape possible?
"I honestly have no idea," replied the Hogwarts' Headmaster. "We know dementors are dark creatures, they allied themselves with the other side during the war. Some of them may have turned a 'blind' eye towards Black, maybe even helped him flee the island."
"Why now? After all this time, why did they decide to help him now?" McGonagall's voice rose an octave, she sounded tired and afraid.
"Again, I'm not certain what happened…"
"When did he escape?" Snape demanded.
"A few days ago –"
"And you didn't notify us immediately?!"
"The Minister thought it prudent not to publicize the escape and…excite the public at large. He was confident his aurors would capture Black very quickly."
"So why tell us now?"
"It seems now that the Ministry has absolutely no idea where Sirius is. They will be notifying the wizarding world tomorrow morning of what has transpired."
"My God," exclaimed McGonagall. "There'll be widespread panic!"
The three teachers slowly continued their trek along the forest's edge, each lost in their own thoughts. It was McGonagall who finally broke the silence.
"The boy will be in grave danger."
"Right you are Minerva. In fact, Cornelius is due to arrive at any moment to discuss just that. May I ask you to head to my office and receive him? I'll be along shortly."
McGonagall gave the stricken looking Snape a quick glance and then wordless stalked off towards the castle. Snape shrugged off Dumbledore's arms and turned to face the headmaster.
"How…is…this…possible?"
"I was being forthright earlier, I truly do not know how he did it."
"Oh really? The great Albus Dumbledore, world renowned wizard and Supreme Mugwump, doesn't know?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not all knowing and omniscient."
"Don't I know it…"
"We must now focus all our energy and attention on protecting young Harry."
"Yes, the little brat is always at the forefront of your mind. Will you allow him back to school?"
"Of course. Hogwarts is perfectly safe."
Snape gave a derisive snort. "He would be much safer at home. We both know that."
A large howl sounded nearby – it seemed to have come from the nearby gamekeeper's hut. Dumbledore turned in the other direction and quickly headed back towards the castle.
"I have decided to allow dementors to be posted at the school entrances. Hogwarts will be more secure than ever."
"Decided…or told?"
"Severus, are you suggesting that I'm not in control of my own school, that I would knowingly endanger the child?"
"I'm suggesting that your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness."
"Using my own words against me now?"
"Come off it Dumbledore! Rumors of Dark Lord returning still echo among the shadows! And now Black has escaped, a supposedly impossible feat! And to top it off you have decided to hire one of his closest confidants – a filthy abomination! A mutant! A WEREWOLF!"
Snape's cry echoed across the night, reverberating across the empty school grounds.
"Do not use such distasteful language in my presences. As you well know, there are some people who consider half-bloods lower than man."
Snape was too busy breathing hot anger to respond.
"Have you heard any whispers of Black? Anything at all?"
"You know damn well I would've told you if I'd heard anything. I haven't given that traitorous scum a moment's thought in the past ten years until tonight."
"Did you ever see him at any meetings? Ever hear Lord Voldemort mention his name, even once?"
Snape spasmed and absentmindedly began rubbing his left forearm.
"Never, not even once. But I was hardly the Dark Lord's favorite. He had spies everywhere, sowed mistrust among even his closest followers. Black could easily have been working for Him for years."
"I'm still shocked at his about face, the ease at which which he fooled us all. Such treachery I never thought possible."
"Of course you would've never anticipated that one of your beloved Gryffindors could turn dark, always thinking the best of everyone."
"I did all I could, Severus, to protect them..and to keep her safe."
"It wasn't enough!" Snape wailed into the night. Hearing Black's name after all these years, the fact he had escaped his deserved fate – angry feelings of regret and anger seeped into every fiber of Snape's being. His Occlumency and Legilimency training fell by the wayside; his baser emotions were still able to consume him at times.
They had reached the entrance courtyard, the castle's front steps loomed before them. Dumbledore turned to face Snape, grabbed the young man's shoulders and looked him square in the eye.
"I need you here and present this term. What is done, is done. Harry – and the entire student body for that matter – could be in grave danger and I need you focused on protecting them…not seeking forgotten revenge."
Snape closed his eyes and went back to that day, so long ago. He had caught up to Black, had him dead to rights, had the killing curse readied on his lips, but a moment's hesitation had caused Pettigrew to lose his life and Sirius to escape with his. If only I'd killed him that day, none of this would have be happening!
When Snape came back from the past and opened his eyes, he found two piercing blue orbs twinkling in the moonlight. He shot a subtle probe into those blue disks and Dumbledore let him flutter around his mind. Images of contrition washed over Snape, an old man's regret. But Snape also saw strength and a deep resolve to protect the innocent, a resolute desire to eradicate the coming darkness gathering on the horizon.
"Promise me Severus."
"Yes, alright. My word."
"And I want you to promise me one more thing."
"What now?"
"I want your word that you won't go looking for Black…"
…"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. . . ."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly…"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said…
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Snape felt a pang of indignation shiver through his body at those words – his thin sallow face twisted past basic anger and into pure loathing. For over a decade Dumbledore had traipsed out one buffoon after another for the DADA position. Each new professor had been worse than the one before! Each successive teaching appointment was a heavy hand of disrespect directed right towards me!
I'd made it plain to Dumbledore after a few years here that I'd prefer to direct the dark arts curriculum. Teaching potions was a frustrating endeavor, none of the students ever had the…capacity for it. Subtleness was not a child's forte and if something did not involve ridiculous wand waving it never held a student's attention for long.
I have dreams and desires like everyone else. I have aspirations for a fulfilling life beyond these stone walls! The dark arts are my passion, my specialty, my natural domain. They made me feel...alive! If only I were given the chance to submerse myself in them, I could teach the students amazing things. I could grow to be a powerful wizard, I could use the dark arts for good! Become world known, bring fame and respect to the school...to myself!
But alas, the old man continues to deny me what is rightfully mine. Continually mentions a jinx on the teaching post, as if there were such a thing. Each fool had ultimately caused their own dismissal through their own stupidity. Although the last two professors had departed with severe health consequences.
And now the ultimate slap in the face! Snape glared at Remus Lupin, the ragged half man. If only people knew the truth! Snape's mind flashed back to that night, many moons ago. The terror that had ripped through his heart that night – he would be a shredded corpse right now if he had stepped into that room. Snape could still see the matted fur, the razor sharp claws, the hot breath, the glowing yellow eyes…could still feel the righteous wrath that coursed through him when he realized that Dumbledore was not going to hold the guilty parties responsible for their heinous actions.
I'm almost killed and the result is that I have to protect the guilty, I have to keep a disgusting secret? And now I was now being asked to protect the half breed once more! Never once has Dumbledore thought to consider my feelings!
And the Headmaster has asked one more ridiculous favor of me on the wolf's behalf – to spend what precious little free time I have on brewing the complicated Wolfsbane potion for the filthy beast. Snape shot Dumbledore a mutinous look – the Headmaster takes a great deal for granted! Perhaps I've changed my mind!
Snape directed his resentment back towards Lupin – member of the notorious four, one the Marauders, complicit in making Snape's teenage years a literal living hell. Snape loathed each one of the four, but in different ways. Sirius and James held a special place in Snape's hell, they resided in his innermost circle of hatred. Both were blessed with things Snape had once coveted – looks, athletic ability, social charm and most of all, wealth. And the bastards used these blessings as weapons, rather than wield them responsibly. Arrogant and condescending – those animals treated him like a subhuman. Worst of all, they took her from him. One stole her heart and the other robbed her of a full life. And now the twofaced heathen was roaming wild and free…
There was Peter Pettigrew, the chubby sycophant – the fat lump of clay always reminded Snape of a sneaky rat. The unctuous Pettigrew disgusted Snape, walking around blissfully entranced by the other two ringleaders. An original thought never manifested itself from his talentless body. Snape had often wondered whether or not the fat little boy had been in love with Sirius.
But when the chips were down and it had counted the most, when the time had come for true Gryffindor courage to be displayed, Pettigrew flashed his true colors. Everyone had misjudged him, Snape included. The young man had displayed valor no one knew he possessed. Although Snape was not sad Pettigrew had met an unseemly end, he had begrudgingly respected him from that day on.
And finally, there was the freak Remus Lupin. What infuriated Snape the most was the passive participation he played in the cruel bullying – never a fully active participant but never interfering either, always ignoring his conscience so he could be included in the group. Snape had once read in a muggle book that all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. The other three were born pampered, had a large amount of hubris within them – but not Lupin. He was born humble, had a compassionate heart. He had a moral compass, yet willingly chose to ignore it. A coward Severus Snape was not, and a cowardly lack of conviction was something he could never forgive. Ever.
Snape continued to shoot daggers of hate at Lupin – the wolf's presence at Hogwarts, his appointment to the DADA teaching post, and now the fact that his former running mate had escaped from Azkaban was almost too much for Snape to bear. An awful rictus of a smile was etched on Snape's face, as Lupin turned towards the other end of the high table…
…My God, I can see the hate emanating from him. Not that I really blame Severus – feelings of disgust flow through me as well whenever I see his scowling countenance. Regrettably, I think the animosity between us will never fade – the things we did to each other had been downright cruel.
Lupin turned away, couldn't bear to look at the pure venom swirling in Snape's face. The sad fact was that Lupin had grown accustomed to such looks of disgust. The life of a werewolf was a lonely one, filled with isolation and misguided prejudice. He was an outcast, unwanted and untouchable. In addition to society's rejection, he had to deal with unbearably painful transformations once a month.
Lupin did not come from a wealthy family and, although a powerful wizard, he had never been gainfully employed for long stretches of time. He did not hide his condition and had consented to following the law by registering as a wolf – but this had severely hampered his ability to find steady work and peace of mind. The registry had been touted as a necessary document that would benefit wolves and wizards alike, but Lupin had come to realize why so many wolves refused to register. It had haunted Lupin whenever he had tried to find work or buy land, the registry cast a stigma he could never shake.
And then there were the painful changings during each full moon. What little money Lupin could scrape together was always spent on tonics, potions, brews of all kinds; but the transformations remained as painful and debilitating as ever. Lupin had resolved to never put himself in a position to infect anyone and took great pains to isolate himself when he transformed, but being separated from humans to attack caused him to bite and scratch himself. He could not adequately control his behavior as the wolf – he became primitive, visceral, ruled by his baser instincts.
Truth be told, he would never have consented to teaching at Hogwarts if Dumbledore had not told him about the recent discovery of the Wolfsbane potion. The potion, if taken the week before a full moon, eased the physical pain of the werewolf transformation and allowed the man to keep his mind intact after becoming the wolf. Lupin could transform in his private quarters and curl up into a furry ball until the moon faded. The potion was a complicated bit of brewing, but then again, Severus had always been a genius at potions – the young man had been more proficient than even Professor Slughorn back when they were students.
Lupin hardly pitied himself, but recently he found himself praying for a cure during the lonely nights. What had he done in a previous life to have been dealt such a cruel hand in this one? Being back on the Hogwarts campus caused Lupin to reflect on his former friends. Two were dead and gone, killed by the actions of the third. He still could not believe what Sirius had perpetrated, what he had done to his best friends. What would life had been like if they had been able to stay together and the Dark Lord had not risen to power? For that was what Lupin missed the most…companionship…true friendship…
…Lyall Lupin could not have been a happier man. His marriage was going on six years strong and his beautiful little boy had recently celebrated his fifth birthday. The Lupin's had a history of frail constitution, but little Remus had been a picture of health. A precocious little boy with golden locks and boundless energy – my first born was destined for a great many things.
Lyall's was also achieving success in his work life, his career was soaring to new heights. He had become acknowledged as a world-renowned authority on non-human spirituous apparitions (boggarts, poltergeists and other dark specters) and had just secured a senior position within the Ministry of Magic – special advisor to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Unexplained disappearances and unrest among dark magical creatures had been growing for some time now and while the past few years had seen an unexplained spike in dark magical activity, Lyall's happiness was not to be denied.
Today the tall thin expert on apparitions had decided to walk home, because he wanted to blow off a little steam. Even with all his accolades, some of his new colleagues at the Ministry were not very impressed with his background. Apparitions, even dark ones, were not considered by all to be very dangerous creatures, and many times Lyall's suggestions were scoffed at and left by the wayside. Arrogant fools they were!
Lyall had been sure that the man brought in today had been a werewolf, but his recommendation to hold the man until tomorrow's full moon had been shrugged off and the man had been released. "Stick to ya boggarts!" had been his manager's reply, accompanied with some good natured laughing. Lyall was not to be denied – I will keep an upbeat attitude and win them over with my hard work and diligence!
As Lyall turned onto the winding lane that led to his new house, his indignation at not being taken seriously washed away. His father had once told him to 'never being your work home' and besides, who can stay mad when a beautiful wife and happy child were waiting at home for you.
A loud crack popped near him, snapping Lyall out of his reverie.
"Lyall! Thank goodness I've found you," panted a portly man sporting the dark green robes of the Ministry. "Cooper's body has just been found. He's – he's dead!"
Lyall stared in shock at his colleague. "What?!"
"That man you warned us about, the Greyback fellow, he attacked him right outside the Ministry before Cooper could cast a memory charm, torn to bits he was!"
"Oh my God – what – where – has he escaped?!"
"Yes, oh goodness. We should have listened! Cooper's body…all torn up…truly horrible…must, must get going. Wanted to let you know. Be careful for a few days. Werewolves – those dirty mongrels – can have nasty tempers, and with the full moon tomorrow I wanted you to be on alert!"
"Thank you Gregory. This is just awful, I just visited with him and Molly the other day."
"Yes, I – I have to go tell her now…I can't imagine…be safe."
Lyall rushed home, secured his house with security spells just to be safe, and spent the night in a cold sweat. When his wife had finally fallen asleep next to him, he rolled out of bed and made himself a drink in their large sitting room. Those fools! I told them that fellow's story didn't add up! And all his wolfish characteristics – any idiot could have seen what he really was! Werewolves were soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death. Dark creatures that infected and fed on innocent men, women and children! I'll take the day off tomorrow, spend some time with Hope and Remus…maybe now they'll start taking my recommendation more seriously…those fools…
Lyall sent a message the next morning to the Ministry, informing his boss that he was taking the day off. The reply was short, but apologetic, with a promise to take heed of Lyall's warnings in the future – 'We're in this together!'
After a large breakfast and a lunch picnic in the village square, the knot of worry in Lyall's chest unclenched and his demeanor brightened. The family spent the rest of the day shopping in the nearby town and then held a lovely barbeque dinner in their backyard with some neighboring families – Lyall was back to his usual happy self.
At the dinner, jokes and wine were being passed around, mirth floating all around. Lyall could not take his eyes off little Remus, broadly boasting about his son's bright future to his wife and their friends. But his optimistic declarations drifted out into the night and reached another's ears. Fenrir Greyback was lurking in the woods behind the house, watching the blissful father espouse on the brilliance of his son. Lyall's insults during his Ministry interrogation still swam in his head – the werewolf couldn't leave the area without settling his grudge.
Greyback had originally planned to kill the arrogant wizard who had threatened him, tried to have him detained, had called him soulless and evil! But now he saw there was something that the wizard prized more than his own life. Those Ministry thugs, pushing their prejudiced werewolf registry and draconian laws – they would have us shackled in chains or eradicated like vermin! Greyback spat on the ground, his angry thoughts bringing his blood to a boil. The goddamn Ministry of Magic, I'm going to see it burned to the ground, with all its bootlickers trapped within!
A cold mist rose from a nearby bog and began slinking through the forest and into the backyard, scattering the party goers. Greyback's glowing yellow eyes never strayed from the little boy with golden locks. Yes, the winds are finally changing. There is a darkness growing and the wizarding world is none the wiser. Soon, oh very soon, a new world order would rise. And werewolves would have a place at the table, no longer confined to lurk in the shadows.
The revelers had cleared out and Greyback watched as the arrogant, racist wizard tucked his boy into a small bed on a first floor bedroom and then headed upstairs to his laughing wife. He discarded his threadbare robes and slowly walked through the trees, the moonlight fighting through the green canopy and dappling his naked skin. He could feel the wolf itching it break free and run from within him. Greyback wished the wolf was present most of the time and the man only appeared once a month.
He stopped at the edge of the forest and placed a hesitant foot in the now empty backyard. A small shock ran through his body, but he did not flinch away. The wizard had placed strong protection charms to keep unwanted people away, but Greyback smiled. He was no pure wizard, his werewolf blood allowed him to move through the charms.
The naked man slowly made his way across the yard, staring at the large glass window on the first floor that framed the young child's bedroom. The freshly manicured grass felt like quicksand; he struggled to put one foot in front of the other as unseen strings sought to hold him to the ground, but the charms could not hold him back. Greyback closed in on the large bay window, stopping mere feet away. Suddenly, the window was illuminated with a bright white light. Greyback snapped his head up and saw the full moon peeking through a cloud.
It was gorgeous, invigorating sight – a bright white globe that pulsed with unseen power. It was the key to unlocking a great power residing deep within him. Greyback was proud to be a werewolf – he was stronger, faster, more powerful than any blasted wizard. It was his mission in life to turn as many people as he could, replenish the wolf ranks as fast as society tried to reduce them. As he bathed in the white moonlight, a prickling sensation overcome him. His whole body shivered in excited anticipation of the coming transformation, he lovingly welcomed the necessary pain that allowed him to become the wolf.
His skin began to stretch, his bones began to elongate, his teeth began to grow. Sickening cracks emanated from within his body – nose became snout, hand became claw, hair became matted fur. The pain felt amazing, Greyback was in an almost orgasmic state as his human body was torn asunder. He positioned himself near the window, wanting to be close to the child when he turned – the coming wolf would seek fresh blood. Greyback let out a blood curling howl – the transformation was complete.
The hungry wolf raked his glowing baleful eyes all around him, he could smell blood. It looked through the window and saw small child sitting up in a quilted bed, staring at him with disbelief. The wolf ran a long, slobbering tongue across its razor sharp teeth and threw its massive body into the window, showering the child with a million shards of broken glass. The wolf could hear loud footsteps pounding throughout the house, but it cared not – it could not feel fear, only pain and growing hunger.
The child was now crying, tiny scrapes opened all along its face. The blood smelt so warm…so inviting…I must slake my thirst! Greyback bounded over a char, grasped the boy in his large paw and bit into the tender shoulder. The razor sharp teeth sank into the soft skin like a butcher's blade into a soft pig belly. Blood spurted everywhere, showering the wolf and child in a warm red blanket. The wolf threw back its head and slurped the hot red liquid – it tasted like ambrosia, pure nectar from the Gods. The wolf barely felt the streams of red and green that slammed into its body, it looked down and was only focused on the small neck of the child. One more bite, just one more bite…a stream of red light smashed in to the werewolf's face and he dropped the screaming child.
Remus fell onto the glass covered bed and then bounced into a wall – a limp ragdoll wearing a harlequin pattern of tears and blood. Lyall's screams pierced the night air as he fired spell after spell into the huge beast – streaming jets of light shot forth from his wand and smashed into glass, wood, fur…
…The loud scraping of hundreds of chairs jerked Lupin's eyes up from his soggy potatoes – the welcome feast had ended and the students were busy chatting and heading off to the dormitories to sleep away their large meals. Lupin blinked away the past, tired of reliving that night so many times before. He could still feel Snape's eyes upon him, shooting bitterness his way. He absentmindedly began rubbing his left shoulder, fingering a long jagged scar, a token left by a vicious animal from so long ago…