1975-1976: Spell Reviewing
His posture rigid and his fists clenched, Snape stormed out of Dumbledore's office twenty minutes later, and stalked past the three boys in front of it without so much as a glance in their direction. He made his way to the hospital wing, relying more on intuition to get there than anything else, for his mind felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton.
He slammed the door as hard as he could, and flopped on one of the beds, then brought his knees to his chest and started rocking back and forth. The conversation with Dumbledore seemed surreal. Nothing made sense. How could a werewolf be allowed at Hogwarts, but he – a harmless wizard who wanted nothing more than to rid the school of a bloodthirsty beast – was threatened with expulsion?
Minutes ticked by. Severus' brain refused to start working and was instead skidding on the same hatred-fuelled thoughts. He stood up and paced the room a couple of times, smashed a number of chairs against the ground in a usual muggle fashion, and watched with satisfaction as the bed screen bent and twisted around itself and clattered to the floor.
Finally too exhausted to stand upright any longer, he collapsed on the bed and stopped fighting the overwhelming fear that was clenching his heart. He curled on top of the covers, shivering, suddenly cold despite the warmth emitting from the hearth. He saw Pomfrey cautiously edging closer – no doubt she'd waited until he was innocuous enough before she dared step out of her office. The mattress sank as she sat on the edge.
"Severus?"
A tentative hand reached out, and he averted his face and buried it in the pillow. Someone was touching his shoulder. The touch was gentle, he knew he was safe, and yet… The raging werewolf flashed before his eyes – its claws were again gripping him, and he instinctively jumped back, using his feet to kick at the horrible creature.
The startled yelp brought him back to reality. Pomfrey had momentarily placed a hand on the side of her stomach, her features had formed a pained grimace. Severus cringed at the sight and his face flushed hot with embarrassment.
"I- I- I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
Pomfrey seemed to have sucked in the air that had been kicked out of her lungs, because she was no longer holding her side. Instead she used her hand to summon a chair, and sat on it to give the boy some space.
"You have nothing to apologise for, Severus. I should've known you wouldn't want… Do you want to talk about what happened?"
Some of his earlier fury crept back. It wasn't directed at Pomfrey; it was directed at Dumbledore. "I can't."
The matron smiled tightly. "I already know of Remus' condition, you won't be breaking your promise to the Headmaster."
"In that case, no, I don't. I don't even want to think about it." He was exhausted.
Pomfrey must have noticed too, because she nodded, vanished the blanket from underneath him, and levitated another one on top of him.
"It's a little past six now," she informed him. "The Headmaster has excused you from classes for the rest of the week. You can stay here however long you'd like… Does Seuthes know where you are?"
"No." Severus pulled the cover until it reached his chin.
"He won't go looking for you, will he?"
"He can't, he's locked up until I get back."
"Good." Madam Pomfrey stood up and fixed a wrinkle in the bed covers, then patted the mattress lightly. "That is good. Go to sleep now, you need the rest."
One thing was on Severus' mind before he finally let sleep take him. He wanted Black and Lupin to suffer the same way he had, wanted those talons to claw at their shoulders.
Two days with no food and three days with no sunlight. The splitting headache had started yesterday, but in the past few hours had been replaced by numbness, and Seuthes was now lying on the mattress, staring uselessly at the ceiling. Too weak was he to move even when he heard the tell-tale click of the lid opening. He could only avert his eyes to look at the descending figure of his brother. Seuthes forced himself to sit up. He let his gaze travel from Russ' oily hair down to his shoes. Russ looked healthy and whole. The only alarming clue was a big rip on the back of his cloak Seuthes noticed when the other boy threw the garment on the chair. The two of them sat in silence for a while. Then Severus spoke:
"Pomfrey told me to send you. I'll explain when you get back."
Seuthes was too numb to protest. He got to his feet and dragged them toward the infirmary. He got back some thirty minutes later. The halls had, thankfully, been deserted, as it was still a few hours before sunrise, so there had been no need for him to try and avoid anyone. Pomfrey had given him some potion to help keep his food down, and he was now immensely grateful for that. His head no longer felt as though it was about to explode. But the feeling returned as soon as he muttered, "Legilimens", and it was not the result of the strain of the spell alone, but also the images that were flashing before his eyes.
He was quite literally trembling by the time he drew back from Russ' mind. It was a mix of horror, fury, and utter disbelief that such a thing was possible. Words were insufficient to describe how he felt. Nothing he could say would make things better, nothing he could do would make the sense of injustice go away or help Severus feel safe. So he said nothing and did nothing. Not for a few days. Not until he learnt that Black had got off with just detention, that Lupin was still roaming the school, and Potter, with all his insolence, was spreading around a story of his heroism.
"This can't be true!" he insisted that night, after he'd shared this new information with Russ. "It can't be! I'm going to talk to Dumbledore. And if he won't listen, I'll contact Malfoy–"
"No." Severus was sitting on the floor in front of the bed, hunched and gripping his own shoulders. He looked about to break down, but his voice was steady and strong. "Dumbledore will expel us. What do we have without Hogwarts? Severus Snape will be an uneducated, poor, half-blood Slytherin." The strength of his speech was slowly fading into despair. "Who would want to hire someone like that? Muggle-borns are weary of Slytherins because of the war, and the Slytherins treat half-bloods as dirt."
"You think he'll really expel us?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. He could see his brother set his jaw. "You don't?"
"What about Lestrange? He said he'll offer us a job."
"I doubt that'll still be the case if we don't even get to pass the OWLs…"
Seuthes was growing increasingly frustrated. "Why are you not fighting? It's not fair! You can't just let this go–"
"Because it's pointless." In contrast to his brother, Severus was completely unmoved by the conversation, and kept his voice impassive. "We cannot win this, Sev."
"You're giving up! You're giving up just like Mother did–"
"–Don't bring her into this!–"
"Then do something about it, damn it!"
Severus did nothing about it. Seuthes, however, stormed into Dumbledore's office as soon as he set foot out of the trunk, demanding that Black be expelled or, preferably, handed over to the Aurors. Much to his dissatisfaction, the old man presented him with a rejection coated in sweet words, and sent him on his way.
Surprisingly enough, the only respite from his anger Snape got was offered to him by his housemates. It was Friday night, Lily's birthday, the day before the Hogsmeade trip was to take place, and everyone was already in bed.
"Would you decline again an offer to join us tomorrow?" asked Avery a little more than a week after Russ had returned from his stay at the hospital wing.
"I wasn't planning on going."
"No Hog's Head meetings this time, eh?" Seuthes didn't respond, so Avery kept talking. "You're missing out, Snape. Evan's found the most hilarious curse. Here!"
A paper was thrown toward him to land on the pillow near his head. Seuthes picked it up and flipped through a couple of pages before he reached the circled article.
"Our boy Ruchbah Mulciber is the next in line to try it, but he'll gladly pass you the honours, isn't that right, Mulcy?"
Mulciber was already half-asleep and only grunted.
"I'll come to watch," said Seuthes. After the fiasco with Etna Midgen and the resulting fight with Lily he was yet to accept an invitation for one of those spell tests his housemates were doing. Right now it seemed like a good opportunity to get his mind off of things. Besides, giving feedback involved analysing the spell and that was definitely his forte.
"And here I thought you'd grown a spine," Avery laughed good-naturedly. "Oh, well… An extra pair of eyes is still welcome."
The group of students was slowly growing longer and thinning out as they neared the village. Severus was walking between Rosier and Avery; Mulciber a few paces in front of them was keeping track of the group Rosier had chosen as targets 'to brighten up Snape's mood'.
They reached the main square. Couples split from the rest of the students and headed in all sorts of directions, mainly toward Madam Puddifoot's. Severus saw Lily step inside Honeydukes accompanied by Cattermole. Potter must have noticed too, because he hurried after them. That left the rest of the fifth-year Gryffindors standing in the middle of the road, trying to decide where to go. The Slytherins were a bit to the side, secretly watching them.
"Would you mind some company?"
Severus started and spun around. Wilkes, Lestrange, and two older boys had just reached the square.
"Come on in," said Rosier, then added for the sake of anyone who might be eavesdropping, "Any ideas where we should go?"
Ten metres away the Gryffindors finally made up their minds and started down one of the streets that led deeper into the village. Rosier gestured for the others to gather round in a circle.
"Alright, Snape and I are going after them. We'll try to single out one of them. The rest of you – keep close, but don't stay on the same street or it'll seem suspicious."
Severus was visibly surprised by this arrangement. As the group split up and he and Rosier hurried to catch up with the Gryffindors, the latter commented:
"Don't be so astounded, you're much better at sneaking around than the rest of that lot combined."
They were taking big strides, but keeping close to the houses in case there was any need for them to hide from view. The street bent slightly to the right and opened up to a hundred metres long straight section. There, at the end, Severus caught sight of Black's robe and Macdonald's bright red scarf. The rest were already behind another corner. Rosier put a hand on Severus' chest to stop him from moving, and waited for the last two Gryffindors to disappear from sight. "Probably the Red Bear," he muttered, and ran after them.
Sure enough, Black and company were huddled together in front of an old-looking bistro, the sign above which was an illustration of a red bear. Severus moved closer, trusting a wooden cart for cover. Two of the girls entered the building along with Pettigrew, but Black and Lupin remained outside, waiting for Macdonald who was struggling to get her scarf off one handed. Her other hand was holding her mittens. Severus pointed his wand at her. "Flippendo!" he whispered. The mittens were blasted away from the girl's hand just as a strong wave of winter wind swirled around the street.
"Good job!" exclaimed Rosier, but kept his voice low. "Wait here." And he disappeared behind a corner.
In front of the bistro Black was offering, "I'll get them for you." But Macdonald grabbed his hand to stop him.
"No need, I'm capable of getting them myself. Go join the others, I've kept you here long enough."
The two boys stepped inside just as Severus felt someone pat him on the back. It was Wilkes. "Come." Severus followed him in one of the neighbouring streets. There was a ladder propped up against one of the houses and Wilkes used it to get to the roof. Severus followed. Unlike his brother, he didn't have a fear of heights, but the steep rooftops still kept him on edge. The others were already gathered near a wide brick chimney. Except for Mulciber, who was standing in front of Macdonald, pointing his wand at her. "Pesadesio!"
She swayed. Her eyes locked on Mulciber and her pupils dilated. With a desperate scream she tumbled to the ground. It was hard to see what exactly had happened since the girl was wearing a long skirt that covered her entire legs, but Severus had a pretty good idea nonetheless. According to the article Sev had read last night, the curse was supposed to agglutinate the victim's legs together. Macdonald's attempts to get up only provoked snickers from the rooftops. They grew to outright laughter when Mulciber went over to her to help her get to her now one foot. She reminded Severus strangely of a stork.
Mulciber stepped back, admiring his handiwork like a painter might a masterpiece. He lifted his wand to add a final brushstroke. "Levi–"
He was blasted off his feet. Ten metres down the street Potter was standing with his hand outstretched, pointing at the burly Slytherin. Lily and Cattermole were hurrying to catch up with him, probably headed to join the rest of their housemates. Severus ducked down and kept his head low until he reached the ladder. He didn't want to be seen at the crime scene. The other boys were behind him. Rosier was giving instructions on how to spread around the area to rescue Mulciber, at the same time dictating his observations to a Self-Writing Quill. But Severus was already scurrying down the street.
On Monday Severus and Lily were as per usual going to the balcony to have lunch together.
"I've started putting together all those notes I've got on muggle genetics," Lily was saying. "D'you know, I think it's actually starting to make sense, how the muggle-borns and squibs can exist. I've interviewed Angela Ogden as my pure-blood, and Mary Macdonald as my muggle-born – I could've just gone off from my own experience, but that wouldn't be very scientific, would it? Anyway, the other day I interviewed Tiana as my half-blood, and now I only have to find a squib." Here she leaned closer to him, and made a show of looking around before she whispered, "They say Filch is a squib."
"Why Cattermole?" Severus asked curtly, not acknowledging her obvious eagerness to discuss Filch's status. "Why not me? I'm a half-blood."
"Yes, I know, yes. But, well, you were with that horrible bunch… I didn't want to come anywhere near them."
"Why not? They wouldn't have done anything to you, Lily. They're not as horrible as everyone in Gryffindor says they–"
"No, they are," Lily cut him off. "They are, Sev, I've seen it with my own eyes. And why does it matter that I asked Tiana, anyway?"
"Because I thought we were supposed to be friends! Best friends?"
By now they had reached the end of the courtyard, and Lily leaned against one of the pillars, looking up at him in annoyance. "We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev? D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"
"That was nothing, it was a laugh, that's all–"
"It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny–"
Severus felt his cheeks heat up, and clenched his fists. "What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?"
"What's Potter got to do with anything?"
What's he– Everything! He's covering up for a blasted werewolf for Merlin's sake!"They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?"
Lily was unabashed. "He's ill. They say he's ill–"
"Every month at the full moon?" Couldn't she see? How much more obvious did he have to make it for her to believe him?
"I know your theory. Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"
"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."
"They don't use Dark Magic, though. And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there–"
Severus didn't hear anything after she uttered the word 'saved'. He couldn't– She couldn't– "Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero?" He could sense his fury bubbling near the surface and preventing him from forming a coherent thought. "He was saving his neck and his friends' too! You're not going to– I won't let you–"
"Let me? Let me?"
"I didn't mean– I just don't want to see you be made a fool of– he fancies you, James Potter fancies you!" He's lying to you, don't you see! "And he's not… Everyone thinks… Big Quidditch hero–"
Severus' vision was now as clouded as his brain.
"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag. I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber and Avery's idea of humour is just evil…"
But Severus didn't care what else she said. She might not like Avery and Mulciber, so what? He hadn't liked them either, not at first. But they'd changed, she just hadn't seen it yet. The important thing was that she hadn't fallen for Potter's lies.
They didn't talk until they reached the stone wall and Severus tapped it with his wand.
"You know, sometimes I wonder where the Severus Snape I know has gone– And yes, I remember what you told me last year, you not remembering and all. I've given it some thought since then…"
Snape was silent as they ascended the steps to the balcony.
"And I don't know if it's true–"
"–It's true–"
"–but I feel like you're using it as a shield." Lily sat on the sill and pulled her robe tighter around her chest. "You're not taking responsibility for your actions– And even if it's true… It doesn't make any sense that you should remember everything at night. How does this work?"
Severus felt like a trapped animal. He'd been so stupid to tell her that! Maybe Sev was right, maybe he was an idiot. Lily hadn't mentioned it after he'd apologised to the girl, and he hadn't given it much thought since. He thought she'd forgotten about it like he himself had, but apparently not.
"Look, it's… complicated. I can't–" He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. "Okay. This is… I can't talk about it. I shouldn't."
"Why? You don't trust me? You said it yourself, we're best friends…"
"It's not that, it's… You just can't – no-one can – know. I know it's weird."
Lily shifted uncomfortably. "You mean nobody knows whatever this is? Not even your paren…t?"
"Oh, no, no, you don't. This has happened before, I'm not telling you, I'm sorry, Lily." This might have worked when Pomfrey had tried it, but it had been Seuthes then, and he'd been young and stupid.
"Okay, but why not? What's gonna happen if you tell me–"
"I might die! Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
Lily was silent, stunned, mouth agape.
"Well that took a turn," she breathed.
Severus stood up abruptly, and straightened his robes. "I need some space." And he left, his lunch still untouched.
Severus rather thought he'd done very well with evading Lily's questions. But his brother held a different opinion on the matter. "I really can't fathom how you can be so thick," Sev said that night. "What part of 'don't say anything' do you not–"
"Oh, that's rich coming from you. I seem to remember you were the one–"
"No! Shut up and listen! I wasn't solely responsible for Pomfrey figuring it out, but you very much will be, if Lily pieces it together – Stop interrupting me! – Let me lay it out for you: You singlehandedly handed Lily the words of the Curse and, more importantly, its existence at all. You told her people kill over it. You then told her you're mentally ill just so you could be on good terms with her, and do you know how you phrased it? 'It feels like it was a different person entirely'. And now you've told her you might die if she learns what's actually wrong with you!"
The way Severus was glaring at him, Seuthes thought he was trying to burn him to a crisp with his eyes alone. But he wasn't done yet.
"You might think it's a negligible detail, but these things add up, and it's only a matter of time now. Unless we use a memory charm…" The last he added offhandedly, but now that he'd said it, it didn't seem that bad an idea.
The fire behind Severus' eyes intensified. "That's illegal," was all he managed to hiss through gritted teeth.
"I am illegal."
If not an Obliviate, then the next best thing was to push Lily away. That way she won't be interested in his business. It would be… painful. Seuthes didn't have any hard feelings against her, except perhaps annoyance at her meddling in his friendships. He agreed wholeheartedly with what Russ had said that day in the courtyard. She was his best friend, she had been for almost seven years, and it would be hard to let go. But if that was what it took, he didn't have much choice.
Ironically, that only made matters worse. Now Snape was acting like two different people, for Severus refused to treat her any differently. After a few heated discussions during which Severus made it clear he wasn't going to change his mind, Seuthes decided to backtrack a little and wait for an opportune moment to break it off.
As a peace offering, he brought up something that had been on his mind for some time now. It was Saturday, sometime in the middle of March, and the twins had locked themselves up in the trunk, set on acing the OWLs that were drawing threateningly close. Seuthes looked up from the Defence book he'd been reading for the past two hours, and let his head fall back, feeling completely drained.
"I think I can make your wish come true."
Now Severus too lifted his head. "What wish?"
"About Black and Lupin and the werewolf."
This seemed to pique Severus' interest. He closed the Transfiguration notebook, and turned fully toward him. "I'm listening…?"
Five minutes later, having explained what he had in mind, Seuthes stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, extracting the Basic Spell Dictionary, and opening it to a random page.
Seuthes spent the following few weeks digging through all sorts of library books. He was a fan of the word 'lacerate'. It represented perfectly what he wanted to accomplish. Black hadn't gotten what he deserved, and Potter had only used the incident to boost his own profile as a hero. The mental image Severus had created in his mind that night in the hospital wing was now living rent free in Seuthes' own head, and he could clearly picture long slashes tearing through the arseholes' robes and skin.
The problem with lacerate, however, was that its Latin version was too short. And if his calculations were correct, the wand movement would have to be terribly long to compensate for it. It could be done, but one look at the page-long equation was enough to force him to look for a simpler solution.
In the end he used what little knowledge he had of the language to come up with 'Carnem Seco', and hoped that he'd be able to make it work.
"Any progress?"
"Not yet. If you're willing to dab in some Arithmancy, I might use your help."
Severus glanced at his Runes essay and ultimately decided that his brother's suggestion sounded much more appealing. "What do I need to do?"
"Graph the first derivatives of these." Seuthes handed him a sheet with a dozen or so functions. "If you use that spell from last year, the interceptions should glow. Count the lilac, blue and yellow ones separately."
The task was unbelievably tedious. It didn't involve any skill whatsoever, but was very time consuming, and Severus understood perfectly why Sev hadn't wanted to do it himself. The moment it was done, he clambered on his bed and was almost immediately asleep. It was well past midnight. Seuthes, however, was still up, beating his head against the impossible problem Russ had presented him with, and checking over his brother's work. It was impeccable, which was by no means good news, as that meant that one would have to twist their hand in impossible ways in order to perform the spell.
Seuthes retired to his own bed some hours later. If he'd cared to climb out of the trunk, he would've seen the first rays of the April sun pierce through the lake to reach the circular windows of the Slytherin dormitories. As it was, he didn't see any natural light until the following day.
His first victim was a tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Its bark was such that even the slightest cut would be visible, which made it the perfect practice dummy. He had chosen a secluded part of the grounds – away from the castle and Hagrid's place, and separated from the pathways by a small cliff that provided additional cover.
"Carnem Seco!" he shouted, simultaneously trying to draw something resembling a cobweb with his wand in the time it took him to say the incantation. It was a pathetic attempt. Coordination was a damn hard thing, and by the twentieth attempt Seuthes was convinced it was humanly impossible.
He sat on a nearby rock. Time for a break. No sense in him keeping it up when he was this frustrated. He picked up his notes and stared again at his sketch, then at the notes next to it. Ten yellows.He counted the crosses in the sketch, tracing each one with his finger. Ten. Three blues… Three right angles. Seven lilacs…Alright, so he hadn't made a mistake. Was there a simpler figure that combined these elements?
He had covered six pages in squiggly lines by the time he finally decided to head back to the castle. The moon was already creeping up in the sky. Rosier caught up to him in the entrance hall. "I've been looking for you all day. Look, I know you're busy with OWLs, but I was hoping you could spare me a minute to explain Everlasting Potions? – What have you got there?" He was pointing at Seuthes' notebook. Seuthes opened it and handed it to him. "You came up with this?"
"It doesn't work."
Rosier studied it for a minute, then lifted his head and raised an expressive eyebrow.
"And why, may I ask, have you not thought to consult me, an experienced spell reviewer? You know what, let's fix this right now. What exactly am I to understand by 'It doesn't work'? It doesn't do what it's supposed to? It doesn't fire at all? What?"
Seuthes looked at him calculatingly for a moment, then placed a hand on his back and steered him back outside and toward the Forest. As they walked, he explained, "It doesn't fire. Merely a physical limitation, the theory is sound. I just can't perform it, I'm not fast enough."
Rosier was looking intently at Snape's notes. "Carnem seco," he read, his voice indicating that he was thinking about something. "'I cut flesh', isn't it?"
"You understand Latin?"
"I speakLatin. Dad started teaching me when I turned five."
Seuthes nodded, though it was more at his own thoughts. If Rosier really spoke Latin – which his translation attested to –, he could be of great help. Seuthes' own understanding of the language was limited despite his attempts during the summer to broaden it, so a second set of eyes would not be redundant.
They reached the foot of the cliff.
"Why are we here? I can't see anything."
Snape ignored Rosier's whining, and instead turned toward the still unscathed tree. "Are you watching?" He lifted his wand and attempted the curse again. The result was no different than the previous hundred times.
Rosier wasn't watching. He had lit his wand, and was holding it over the squiggle-filled pages. "I take it it doesn't get much simpler than what you've already come up with?" he said without lifting his eyes.
"Unfortunately."
"What about the incantation? What have you tried?"
"Lacero… Lanio. And some others. Those were even more complicated than this one."
The older boy found a fallen branch and sat on it. "This is interesting… So you're using first conjugation verbs. Is this on purpose, or…?"
"It made the most sense. And there are other spells like this. Accio, for example."
Rosier laughed. "Then why not try English words? No, most incantations aren't actions or commands. They're descriptions of what the spell accomplishes."
"I don't follow. I mean, I do, but what are you suggesting?"
"Participles. In your case that would be 'sectus' as in cut in place of the to cut, which is what you're using now. I'll be honest with you, I have no idea how to make a spell, but going off of the ones I know, you should try 'Caro secta'."
Seuthes pulled his notes out of Rosier's grip, and scribbled down the suggestion.
"I'll have a look at it tonight, and I should have it ready for testing tomorrow. Er… No. In two days."
In two days Snape had a working spell approved by an experienced spell reviewer. The only thing left to do now was to practise, and then put it to work.