Chapter Seven: The Stuff of Nightmares

Mary was released from the hospital with a clean bill of health a little over two weeks after Mulciber had first attacked her; her vision and hearing was restored to the tip top condition she had enjoyed before and she was safe in the knowledge that Mulciber and Avery had three more weeks in solitary confinement.

Lily and the others gave her a guard of honour, as she returned to the Gryffindor common room for the first time, and the rest of her housemates were waiting inside ready to throw her a "welcome back" party (even if Callum Brown was mildly surprised that she was no longer a Japanese macaque). The wireless was tuned into a pirate station, where Royston Idlewind and the Dissimulators were playing an unofficial gig, the common room was festooned with streamers, and James had led a raid on the kitchens (whereby he had asked politely and the House Elves had handed over everything he wanted) and so pumpkin juice flowed and cream cakes and crumpets were in abundance.

There were many toasts to the general sliminess of Slytherins, and vows of vengeance and wishes that Mulciber had been thrown out, or else chucked in Azkaban and the key thrown away, and Mary was quite overwhelmed by everyone's support and said how good it was to be back.

Once the party was over, though, and the girls were up in the quiet of the dorm, she looked rather more serious. 'How are you really doing, Mary?' Mandy asked her.

'I - I'm worried about lessons on Monday.'

'Mulciber won't be there,' Petra assured her, 'and he won't be allowed near you again.'

'I know, but I've missed so much, I'll be so behind.'

'We'll help you catch up. And it's not as if the teachers don't understand.'

'I suppose… I'm just … nervous.'

'We'll be there with you,' Lily said, draping an arm around her shoulders. 'We'll watch out for you, and each other…' She looked around solemnly at her friends. 'I know everyone was just having fun downstairs, when they said they would all get their own back on the Slytherins. But we do need to pay Mulciber back for what he's done. And we will, Mary. I don't want you not feeling safe in school. Everyone should be safe here.'

'We're not safe, though,' Mary said. 'Especially not you and me. Or Connie and Sandy. Or Callum Brown. Or anyone else of muggle birth. We haven't been safe for a long time. And it's not safe out there either, in the real world.' (While she had been in the Hospital Wing there had been another family found dead under the Dark Mark, this one in Salisbury. She had overheard the St. Mungo's Healers discussing it when they thought the ringing in her ears was still too loud for her to hear them.)

'We'll make it safe,' Lily assured her. 'Whatever it takes. We'll win in the end.'

Mary looked fretful. 'I just hope I'm not too far behind in all my lessons.'

…

Mary was not the only one worrying about getting left behind in her classwork. As the days turned, and the Gryffindors took any opportunity they could to hex any Slytherin who passed them, Remus began to feel the familiar bone weary ache as the full moon approached. He began to fall asleep at a moment's notice but feel no more refreshed when he woke up, and the circles under his eyes grew darker and deeper (not that many people noticed that, his fellow fifth years were pushing themselves so hard with their school work that many of them bore dark rings, which looked like bruising, beneath their eyes).

The October full moon that year fell on a Monday. He did force himself out to the Quidditch pitch on the Saturday before to watch James train, and he spent the Sunday snoozing fitfully, up in his dorm, while Sirius sat on the bed next to him finishing off his notes for Muggle Studies the next day, and then replicating them so Remus would have something to hand in as well.

As always, the day of the full moon was a literal as well as a figurative pain. His bones, readying to break and knit back together in a new shape, felt like they were on fire - and he suffered intense aching in his joints. He had Muggle Studies first thing, with Sirius, who took notes for both of them and stacked their textbooks up in front of Remus so he could put his head on the desk and close his eyes when it all got too much for him.

Then came Transfiguration. His head kept nodding over the mouse he was trying to vanish, and he did not have much success (where Sirius and James were left with nothing but wriggling tails by the end of the lesson) but he knew McGonagall would not be too harsh on him today (indeed, she cast him a few worried glances and then made rather biting comments to Peter about his lack of progress, instead).

It was raining, a steady heavy downpour which left everything grey and damp and miserable (and seemed to spread into Remus's already weary bones) and so they stayed inside for break - finding an out of the way corner behind a tapestry so Remus could close his eyes without anyone asking what was wrong.

Perhaps determined to show she had not been shaken by the events of the previous weekend (or perhaps because she was a Death Eater rubbing it in that she had nearly killed Filch) Professor Carnarvon taught them about curses which could be planted and then detonated at a later time, in Defence Against the Dark Arts. ('There are a number of methods one can use,' she told them. 'Once can install a trigger - such as planting it in a desk, and leaving it to detonate when the desk is opened, or one can put it on a timer and leave it to explode at a particular moment…' Sitting at the back, James raised his book so she would not see him and then whispered, 'Oh come on, she's practically signing a confession, here.')

When the bell went for lunch, Sirius shooed Remus up to the dorm, promising to bring him up something to eat in a bit. 'It's A History of Magic next, and none of us are going to go - let's not even pretend - so you go and get a decent bit of kip before Herbology.' And though Remus knew he should put up some token protest about not being an invalid and being able to manage lunch, he was too grateful for Sirius's consideration to even bother - and simply trudged his way upstairs and went to lie down. He was fast asleep by the time Sirius came to him, bringing with him a slice of chicken pie.

Unlike Professor Binns's lessons, however, Herbology could not be skived (Professor Sprout would not stand for it any more than Big Macca would) and so they headed down at twenty past two and spent a double period pruning flutterby bushes.

It was time for tea after that and - as it was October and the nights were drawing in more quickly - Remus knew he would have to head up to the Hospital Wing as soon as he was done eating. Overhead, the enchanted ceiling was a darkening grey and the rain still poured steadily. The moon was not yet up, but the sun was not out and it felt far later than it was.

'Do you want us to come with you to the Infirmary?' Sirius asked him through a mouthful of casserole. 'You seem to be suffering more than usual this month.'

Remus stifled a yawn. 'No, it's fine. Go back to the common room. Start on your homework.'

'Better than that - I'll start on your homework.'

'You don't have to. You mustn't overdo it.'

'Right back at you.'

So once they were done, Sirius, James and Peter headed back to Gryffindor Tower, and Remus hauled himself back to his feet and made his weary way to the Hospital Wing.

…

Unbeknownst to Remus, he was under sharp scrutiny from Severus that evening. For once in his life, Sev had been disappointed not to have any lessons with the Gryffindor boys that day, as he would have liked to observe Lupin - to have watched out for the tell-tale signs of an imminent transformation. He had been annoyed when the other boy had hidden away at break, and then not turned up at lunch, and so teatime was the first chance Sev got to get a good look at him. He looked dreadful. And Severus noted this fact with glee. His skin was pale, his eyes had black smudges beneath them, he looked peaky and exhausted and was moving as if he was in serious pain… and all of that only further confirmed to Severus that he was right about what was about to happen.

As the four of them finished their dessert, scraped back their benches and left the Hall, Severus abandoned his own meal and scuttled after them, dodging behind the occasional suit of armour in order to keep out of sight. He was delighted when he saw Lupin peel off from the others and head towards the Hospital Wing; his heart beat faster in his chest and his whole being seemed to thrum with barely contained triumph. Everything was coming together, exactly the way he thought it would, exactly the way he hoped it would.

He lurked outside the Infirmary (wishing he dared go inside and eavesdrop on what was going on between Madam Pomfrey and Lupin, but not wanting to get trapped in there for the evening, there were places he needed to be and rather pressing things he needed to do). He checked his watch almost continually, and kept plunging his hand into his pocket to check that the stolen camera was still there. It would not do to misplace that.

He had had to spend some time, hidden behind the curtains in his dorm, making sure he understood how this muggle camera worked. But he knew now that he needed to wind it on after every photograph, and that had to twist a dial to switch on the flash, and he understood that the number, scrolling downwards in a little window, was telling him how many photos he had left to take. It would not do to run out of film in the middle of tonight's expedition, just as it would not have done to get stuck and not know how to take a picture.

After about half an hour's impatient waiting, the door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Madam Pomfrey emerged, with Lupin at her side. From his position hidden behind Aelfgytha the Unimpressed, he raised his camera and took a photograph of the pair of them.

The flash went off and the camera whirred, and both the Matron and the (not yet proven) werewolf turned to find the source of the noise, frowning. Silently, Severus cursed himself and vowed to be more careful next time. But after a moment, the pair seemed to decide they had imagined the sudden flash of bright light, as they continued on their way as if nothing had happened.

Severus crept after them, like a shadow with ill intent. They did not look around again, and Sev did not press his luck by taking another photograph. Instead, he allowed them to walk away, and returned to the window which overlooked the lawn and gave a clear view out to the Whomping Willow and the forest beyond.

It was still raining, as he stood peering out, and the drops dripping down the panes, as well as the sheets pouring from the sky, made it hard for him to see as far as he had last month. Dusk was drawing in, visibility was poor and - reluctantly - he realised he would not get a picture of Lupin entering the willow from this distance. But he would still get one of him and Madam Pomfrey crossing the lawn, and Pomfrey returning alone, and that would be enough to prove to the world that the staff knew what Lupin was and had been complicit in allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts.

The rest of the proof he needed he would get later, and from far closer quarters.

A few minutes after he arrived at his window, the two figures came into view. It was not as clear a view as Severus would have wished - but it was clear enough. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey's headdress made her easily identifiable, even with her back turned. Severus raised his camera and took another picture, the bulb flashed again, the whole thing whirred - but, outside, and walking away from him, the two figures did not turn back this time, and seemed totally unaware that they were being observed and their actions recorded.

It took what seemed like an excruciating amount of time for the pair of them to dwindle into tininess and vanish from view right by the willow, but Sev could imagine well enough what was happening. He held his breath, and counted slowly, and then - just when he thought she should appear - Madam Pomfrey came back into view, growing larger by the second but now completely alone. Severus took another photograph of her and then replaced the camera in his pocket. He would need it for the next stage of his expedition, and he could not risk it getting wet and not working.

He had time on his hands now. There was no point heading straight out. He did not want to reach the Shrieking Shack before Lupin had transformed (he would not put it past the other boy to hex him, if he happened across him while still in human form, and then eat him during the night) and so he needed to wait for the moon to rise.

Eventually, the sky turned from a dusky blue to an inky black. The rain continued to pour, and the clouds were heavy in the sky, but then one shifted, revealing the yellowish disc Sev was waiting for.

This was it. With sweaty palms and an erratic pulse, he made his way downstairs, keeping to the shadows as he did not want to be caught by Filch; he crossed the entrance hall, and stepped through the great, oak doors out of the castle and into the night.

The rain hammered down onto his skin, drenching him and slicking his hair, though he barely noticed. He gazed up at the moon, not quite daring to believe he was about to get everything he had ever hoped for, and then muttered 'Lumos' and used the light of his wand to guide himself towards the willow.

…

The three boys were sitting up in their dorm, their wands pointed at their hearts, reciting the incantation necessary for them to become animagi. 'I can definitely feel a second heartbeat now,' Sirius said, once he was done. 'We're practically there. We just need a thunderstorm… This sodding rain, why couldn't there have been a bit of lightning to go with it? Then we could have gone to join Moony this very evening!'

'I'm not sure I'd fancy going out there in this weather,' Peter said, peering out of the window at the steady downpour.

'Don't be soft.' Sirius threw a pillow at his head. It bounced off but Peter ignored it, he was still staring out of the window, only now he was frowning.

'I think there's someone out there,' he said.

'In this downpour?' James asked. 'You're mental - or they are.'

'I can see wand sparks - look.'

The other two tumbled off their respective beds, clambered up into the window sill and peered out, cupping their hands to block the light from the lamps and give them a better view into the darkness beyond.

'There is someone out there!'

'Maybe some poor sod's been sent to a detention in the forest.'

'It's only one person,' Peter said, 'it's only one wand.'

'Hagrid?'

'Too short.' Peter kneeled up, pressed his nose to the window and strained as far as his very sharp eyes would allow him. 'I think… I think it's Snivellus,' he said at last. 'I can tell by the way he walks - all jerky - like a spider on the end of a web. And I think he's headed to the Whomping Willow.'

…

Alone in the shack, Remus had taken off all his clothes, folded them up neatly and then climbed into the four poster bed to wait for his transformation to happen. The fire blazed merrily in the grate, and the warmth of its flames went a little way to soothing the aches in his bones. He just wanted this to all be over - and hoped he would have a relatively easy night of it. There was too much homework waiting for him back in the common room for him to be laid up in the Hospital Wing for any length of time.

Outside, the clouds parted, the moon shone down on the shack, and the young boy in the bed suddenly seized up. His limbs went stiff and began to tremble, and then his bones stretched, snapped, broke and painfully reformed. Fur grew on his face, his hands curled into paws while his nails shot outwards into claws, his teeth lengthened into fangs… and then the wolf sprang from the bed, snapping its jaws, angry and starving, and howled up into the night sky.

…

Sirius and James were now kneeling up as well, though they could not see as well or as far as Peter.

'Snivellus?' James said wonderingly, 'What, in Merlin's name, is he doing out in this filthy weather?'

'Going out to the forest to see the troll girlfriend he keeps there?' Sirius suggested, 'Or breaking into the broomshed to sabotage the team's brooms? Something foul knowing him.' His brow furrowed. 'Unless…' he laughed softly. 'No, he can't be … that total berk. Surely even Snivellus couldn't be that stupid?'

'What?' James and Peter asked him in unison.

'Well… it was ages ago. The night Mary got attacked, actually. And Sniv was blathering on about none of us making the Slug Club (as if we even care).'

'Is this story going somewhere?'

'Yeah - so he was going on about us not being good enough for the Slug Club and then he said about Remus being in a club with Madam Pomfrey… Only he couldn't work out where they went. So I said…'

'Sirius, what did you say to him?' James interrupted him, his voice sounded strained and he had gone rather pale.

'I told him to prod the knot in the willow and he could find out where Remus went. But I didn't think he would - hey! Where are you going?' he shouted, for James had suddenly jumped off the window sill and made a mad dash for the door.

…

The rain fell down in icy sheets and, though he was still too far away for the willow to sense his presence and react, the wind was buffeting its branches this way and that, making it look like it was already awake. Severus took another step, his foot slipped in the mud and he slid forward several yards, getting far closer to the trunk than he had intended. The Whomping Willow began to groan. But he was ready for it and - before a branch as thick as a python could scythe towards him - he grabbed the long stick Madam Pomfrey had used earlier, and prodded the knot.

Immediately the willow fell still, and Severus slipped, slid and stumbled his way towards the entrance to the secret passage. He dropped down the hole, more carefully than he had done last time, and landed on the dusty earth.

It was still dry down here, and it was a relief to be out of the driving rain, sheltered from the wind. He put his hand in his pocket to check the camera was still there, and still unharmed, and then raised his wand and used its light to guide him down the tunnel.

A distant sound suddenly echoed through the passageway, undulating and eerie, like an animal in pain… a howl. Unmistakably so. Severus smiled grimly to himself, and hurried down the tunnel all the faster.

…

'You always do this!' James yelled over his shoulder as he hurtled down the stairs towards the common room. He jumped over footstools like they were hurdles, leapt onto a coffee table - ran across it - and leapt off without breaking stride and threw himself at the portrait, tumbling through the hole. 'You never learn, Sirius!'

He did not even notice that Sirius was not with him. The other two boys were following on, but Peter liked comics and Sirius liked tinkering and they could not possibly hope to keep up with Quidditch prodigy Potter when he was running full pelt.

'What's the matter?' Sirius asked, as he too tumbled through the portrait hole (James was nowhere in sight).

'Remus will kill Snape if he reaches the shack,' Peter told him, huffing and puffing and already nursing a stitch.

'Serves him right!'

'But what will happen to Remus?'

Sirius paled, and then his expression grew dark, he skidded round the corner and put on a burst of speed as he hurtled down a corridor… and now it was just Peter left in the dust.

Meanwhile, James was almost out of the castle; he did not know if the great, oak doors were locked, but it did not matter, for they magically sprang open as he thundered down the marble staircase towards them. He jumped the last five steps and slid across the entrance hall, before bursting through the doors and running out into the icy rain.

Like Severus, he was soaked to the skin in moments, and - moving much faster than the other boy had done - he slipped and slid through the mud, tumbling over many times, skinning his knees, but always struggling back up and running on. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it might explode. 'Snivellus!' he yelled at the top of his voice, though the wind stole the words away and scattered them to the skies, unheard. 'Snape!'

But there was no sign of him; the little dot of wand light which had led James out here had vanished, and so James blundered forward, cursing the rain, cursing the mud, cursing Sirius and Snape and the full moon, and did not stop running until he had skirted the lake, crossed the lawn and was standing in the shade of the Whomping Willow.

It was frozen, for now; James stared up at it - and then rooted in his pocket for his wand, hoping to light it and locate the hole he needed to slither down. Remus had told them all about the secret passageway at the base of the tree, but he had never allowed them to go and explore it and - for once - sensitive to the needs of someone else, James had followed his wishes. Right now he wished he hadn't.

He fumbled through the sodden folds of his robes, swearing fluently, until his hand found his wand, gripped it and pulled it out.

But before he could light it, there was a creaking, groaning sound, heard even over the sound of the wind, and then a branch came out of nowhere and smacked James heavily in the face, sending him flying in one direction and his wand in another.

'Buggeration.' He tried to get up, but another branch swung at him and he rolled out of the way to miss it. Only he was immediately smacked in the face by another one. His glasses were slapped from his nose and tumbled into the mud; his brow was stinging and he was not sure if it was rain or blood dripping into his eyes. He scrabbled around for his glasses, half blind, and then rammed them back on his face, they were covered in mud and had a crack in one of the lenses.

Another branch came at him, but he threw himself flat to the ground and it missed him. 'Lumos,' he cried - and, thankfully, miraculously, his wand illuminated just a few feet from his hand. He crawled towards it and grabbed it, and then ducked out of the way of another scything branch. He rolled again, ducked another hit, slammed against the trunk, and saw the knot. Using the lighted tip of his wand, he pressed the knot furiously, ramming it in as hard as he could before he was attacked again. The willow froze once more and - now with his wand raised - he located the entrance and then, much as Snape had done minutes before, slithered through it.

He landed with a bump but righted himself immediately and hurtled off down the tunnel yelling 'Snape! Snape! Come back!'

There was no sign of the other boy; but - in the distance - a wolf howled.

…

Sirius raced across the entrance hall and flung himself through the doors, which still hung open and which were swinging wildly in the autumn winds, battering against the walls of the castle in a rhythm which seemed to match the erratic pounding of his heart. He screeched to a halt on the top step - barely able to see through the pitch black and the pouring rain. He was soaked through in seconds, his teeth started to chatter and he swore fluently under his breath.

He had no idea where Peter had got to, but did not want to waste time waiting for him and so - wishing Snivellus Snape had never been born, and that he had never been such a greasy, foul, stupid git - he jumped down the remaining steps and raced off down the lawn, hoping the wind and the dark did not force him so far off course he wound up in the lake.

…

Severus was sweating now, he felt overly warm and flustered, his heart was in his mouth and the tunnel seemed much longer and darker and more twisty than it had a few days ago. But the howling was getting louder, and he knew he was getting closer. His hands were slippery as he kept his left one against the earthen walls to guide him, and the sweat mingled with the earth, leaving his palm muddy. In his right hand, his grip on his wand kept slipping. He stumbled a few times, and nearly fell, but he kept on going, pulse racing, blood pounding, following those dreadful howls to his own victory and the werewolf's defeat.

From far behind him, he thought he heard a cry - a human one, someone calling his name… but he ignored it. There was no turning back now. He had almost won, he could practically taste it. He would not stop for anything.

…

James was still running full pelt, blundering down the passageway. His robes were sodden and heavy and clinging to him, tripping him up and weighing him down, but he still kept running - desperate and terrified and calling out to Snape to stop. 'Please - you don't understand. Sev! It's not safe Come back. Snape! Please!'

He stumbled over a rock, his foot slipped, his ankle twisted and he crashed down on the ground, hard - the wind knocked out of him. Once again, his wand flew from his hand, the tip extinguished. He swore, and scrabbled in the murk until he found it. 'Lumos!' It flared back into life, he struggled back up and ran on, limping on his bad ankle and grunting in pain. 'Snape - can you hear me? Snape, come back!'

The howling grew louder; the terrible, animal, sound of Moony crying out with rage and pain, and it flooded James with a heartstopping panic, which seemed to freeze the blood in his veins and leave him overheated in terror all at once. He kept running, barely able to breath; his lungs felt like they might burst but he still kept on calling. There was a stitch in his side, but he ignored it and forced himself on; his legs felt like jelly but he made them support him on sheer willpower alone; his ankle throbbed and threatened to buckle - but he grit his teeth and did not allow it to fail him.

'Snape! It isn't safe! You'll be killed!'

But his words only echoed around the tunnel and vanished into the darkness, going unanswered.

…

'You'll be killed! Please - stop!' the words floated through the black, reaching Severus as he neared the end of the tunnel. They sounded tinny and desperate to his ears, and he paid them no heed. He recognised the voice. It was Potter. Potter was in the tunnel, chasing after him, trying to stop him - and of course he was. He, Severus, was on the cusp of finding Lupin transformed and exposing him for what he was, he was on the cusp of getting that mangy monster booted from the castle for good. Of course Potter was trying to put a stop to that. He was trying to save his friend's hide, he was trying to stop Sev from exposing what Dumbledore had allowed to hide in plain sight at Hogwarts.

But Severus was too close now, and he was not going to be deterred - no matter what threats poxy Potter yelled at him from a distance. Not wanting to be caught before he reached his goal, he sped up and hurried down the last of the passageway - summoning up a final burst of exertion which would keep him well ahead of Potter.

Finally, he hit up against the dead end of the tunnel. He raised his wand and saw the trap door above his head. The howling was deafening now. The wolf must only be feet away from him, nothing but a ceiling of wood separating them.

His breath was shallow, coming out in little gasps, excited and ragged, as he reached up with trembling hands and opened the hatch. It was rough and splintery and a little damp in his fingers, and his hands, already slick with sweat, slipped and struggled to undo the catch. But then it was open, and blackness yawned above and - as meagre a barrier as the trapdoor had been - the howling intensified in volume now it was open. Terrible, undulating wails and screams that reverberated against Sev's eardrums and drowned out the sound of Potter's increasingly desperate cries.

With his nerves jangling, and fighting the sudden instincts that told him to run, Severus hauled himself up out of the tunnel and into the shack.

The howling stopped.

Severus was in the hallway. The wolf was not here. It was dark and a little musty, the air was stale - but there was an overpowering stink of animal musk which hit the back of his throat and made him choke. He glanced up the stairs, not sure if that was where he needed to be. But then he heard a growling, and a tearing sound, coming from the downstairs room - the one Dumbledore had made to look like a living room - and, holding his breath, his heart hammering in his chest and the blood ringing in his ears, Severus tiptoed towards the door and eased it open…

…And there it was: the monster. The beast. The wolf. Lupin - in his true form.

The creature was nosing around at a boarded up window. It threw itself against the shutters a few times, and then grabbed the curtains in its jaws and began to tear, fighting them, getting tangled up and slamming itself against the walls again and again as it fought a battle with its fabric foe.

It was hideous. Gigantic. And powerful. Severus could see the muscles rippling beneath its fur - which was dark grey, and matted. And the stench of it was overpowering. It was just a shame the smell would not translate in a photograph.

His hand shook as he reached into his pocket, he took out Lupin's own camera, raised it to his eye - and clicked.

…

'Severus - please, come back! Please - you git - answer me!' James was still hurtling down the passageway, relying on pure adrenaline to see him through the pain in his side and his ankle, and the burning in his chest; though he was now practically crying with desperation and frustration.

Not expecting it, he slammed face first straight into the dead end of the tunnel at high speed. He heard his glasses crunch, his nose began to sting, and the tears which had been threatening to spill for the last half a mile now spilled over. 'Severus!' he half gasped, half sobbed.

But there was no sign of the other boy.

Blinking in pain, he backed away from the end of the tunnel and looked around him, frantically, panicked - not sure what had happened or where Snape could have gone. But then, the wolf howled, from directly above him.

He looked up, saw the trapdoor hanging open and, shaking - his breath coming out as ragged whimpers as he was so afraid of what he might be about to find - he hauled himself upward.

…

The flash went off, blinding white, illuminating the whole room and the hulking monster for the briefest moment before they were thrown back into darkness. Light spots danced in front of Sev's eyes. He could not see at once - but he heard the growl.

The wolf had frozen in the light, then its ears had pricked up, its hackles had risen, enraged by the flash, and it turned to look…It saw the boy in the doorway, camera still in hand, and that terrible hunger which had gnawed at him his whole life, and the anger at being trapped in this little shack when he should be running free, all crashed in on him at once, for here was something he had always been denied, had always wanted and never even seen… prey . Food. Human. The growl rumbled in the back of his throat and then tore free as an excited howl, which made all the little hairs on the back of Severus's neck stand up, and the wolf began to run.

There was the thudding of footfalls as padded paws thundered on floorboards; the last of the red blotches in front of Snape's eyes swam away just in time for him see massive, yellow, lamp like eyes with slits for pupils and no trace of humanity behind them; a furred snout and slobbering jaws; fangs, long and pointed and cruel - poised ready to bite and tear at long last, flecks of saliva flying everywhere, and 10 stone of angry wolf bearing down on him.

He saw death in those eyes, and in those teeth; death coming straight for him; painful and slow and ugly - and it was Snape's turn to freeze…

And then he was suddenly yanked backwards, away from the wolf so he could no longer see it. His feet were pulled out from under him and he was thrown to the floor of the hall. There was a cry of 'Clauderio!' and the door slammed shut right in the wolf's snout. Behind it, the wolf howled - and from the sounds of the banging - and the way the door shook in its frame, it began to throw itself against the wood, desperate to get through. It screamed in rage. But Severus had been grabbed by the arm, tugged back to his feet and was being half pulled, half dragged back down the hallway.

He reached the trapdoor, along with his saviour, and was pushed down it roughly. He landed on the hard ground of the tunnel with a thump, huddled in a heap. Above him, there was the splintering crash of the door buckling - the thunderous footfalls of paws once again and the deafening howling of the enraged wolf.

There was another thump beside him, and Potter landed - cursing as he hurt his already bad ankle.

There was growling and slobbering and hot breath overhead - and the muzzle of the wolf appeared in the trapdoor, salivating and snapping; a massive paw came down, swiping into the air - trying to reach them.

'Clauderio!' Potter pointed his wand again, and the trapdoor snapped shut in the wolf's face. Once again there was the terrible howling, and a desperate scrabbling and frustrated thumping as the wolf tried to get through.

' Colloportus'. Potter sealed the trapdoor shut, and then he grabbed Severus and began to haul him back down the tunnel.

…

James was sweating, his heart was hammering in his chest, his ankle was screaming in pain, making every other step an agony and Snape was practically a dead weight. But he struggled on, cursing in a continuous stream beneath his breath. He could only be thankful that Sev was all in one piece, that he got there before the wolf had killed him, and that he did not even seem to be bitten. Everything else was a nightmare.

The howling did not stop. It followed them all the way back down the tunnels, round every twist and turn for over a mile. He could still hear the banging of the trapdoor as well, as the wolf fought to get through to them, and did not want to imagine what would happen if it was successful. He prayed that his spells would hold.

He could not think about Moony, and how angry he was - how much damage he must be doing to himself and the shack now he had smelled human flesh only to be denied a kill. He couldn't think about seeing one of his best friends that way, the snarling and the rage and the teeth and the fur, and the absolute knowledge that - in this state - Remus did not know him and would kill him too without a second thought.

Instead he concentrated on not crying as his ankle burned, on not falling over every time it refused to bear his weight, and on dragging the useless lump that was Snivellus back to safety.

Still the howling did not stop.

Eventually - after what seemed like a heartstopping eternity trapped in the darkness, when every moment brought with it the fear of the wolf breaking loose and chasing after them - the musty, earthy scent of the tunnel was cut through with just the hint of fresh air.

Half sobbing, and feeling ready to collapse from exhaustion, James redoubled his efforts. The entrance to the willow was nearby, he just had to reach it. He kept on dragging Severus, who remained a dead weight - dazed and stunned by his near death experience, unable to save or help himself.

And then it was there, James could just catch a glimpse of the night sky above his head, the rain clouds and a sliver of the moon, which was the cause of all this trouble. Gasping, his muscles screaming like the wolf behind him, he began to clamber upward; he slipped a little and slid back down in his desperation; he found purchase in the tree roots and used them to help him climb. His head poked out of the entrance, inch by inch he emerged - like being born from the earth - he ended up lying flat on the ground, his nails digging into the sodden ground as he clawed his way forward, and the rain pouring down on him.

And then - just when he thought he was free - he was hit a glancing blow on the top of his head, as a branch swung from nowhere and began to rain down punches on his unprotected head. Dazed and blinded, he began to retreat, falling back down the hole - though that was the last place he wanted to be - but then the creaking and groaning stopped, the tree froze above him and a hand reached out, grabbed him and pulled him to his feet.

Sirius was soaking wet and shivering - with cold or fear James did not know - but he had prodded the knot and frozen the willow, and now he helped James stand up and then threw his arms around him and gripped him tightly. They stood that way for a few moments, breathing ragged and heavy and getting more and more drenched, tears mingling with rain - though neither would ever admit it.

'Sniv - he's down there - we need to pull him up,' James panted.

'Is he dead?'

'No - not even bitten.'

'Shame.' He tried a grin, but could not hold it - and James did not laugh.

They reached down into the entrance to the passageway, grabbed one of Severus's arms each and dragged him back up into the night. Straining, they staggered a few steps backward, until they were out of the shade of the willow, and then they dumped him face down in the mud.

The howling was not any quieter out here than it had been inside the tree.

Sirius kicked the prone Snape in his ribs. Snape made an 'oof,' sound but otherwise did not move.

'You hear that?' Sirius demanded. 'That's Remus hurting himself because of you. That screaming - you did that, you foul, evil git. He'll be so beaten up in the morning. He's in so much pain we can hear him all the way from the village.' And he kicked Snape again.

And it was true that Remus's cries were carrying all the way up the road from Hogsmeade and into the Hogwarts grounds: frantic, anguished and unearthly. Up in the castle, lights started to appear in the window as people were disturbed in their beds by the screams.

The rain beat down on the little group. 'Let's get him back to school,' James said, wishing he could just sink down here in the mud and go to sleep. 'Let's get back.'

The pair of them grabbed Snape under his armpits and started hauling him up the lawn, dragging him so his toes trailed in the sodden grass and made divots and grooves in the mud.

Huffing and puffing and swearing copiously, they heaved him all the way back up the lawn, past the lake and up the front steps - where they dragged him through the great, oak doors and then dropped him once again onto the floor. He collapsed face down on the stone flags of the entrance hall.

Wearily, and still in shock, Severus raised his head and came nose to toes with a pair of purple boots with silver buckles. He looked up higher. Dumbledore was standing in the entrance hallway, towering above him. Behind the headmaster stood Professor McGonagall, looking white and thin-lipped, and fat, little Pettigrew - still out of breath, his face pale and scared.

Snape slumped back down.

'Would someone care to explain to me what has happened here tonight?' Dumbledore asked the three soaking wet and exhausted boys.