Severus Snape was not an idiot, no matter what the harpy might think.

He had a plan for tonight. He had verified Black's words, and despite every probability, the Gryffindor had spoken the truth. So Severus shouldered the camera he had lifted (that whiny Hufflepuff could surely not have put it to better use than he would), poked the wooden knob on the trunk of an already agitated Willow and climbed into the burrow that was revealed between its now calm roots, mud smearing across his palm as he felt for purchase in the gloomy tunnel. A quick Lumos spread a sphere of white light around him, illuminating packed dirt-walls and small pale roots that curled from the darkness like reaching, dead fingers. Crumps of earth got caught in his lashes and he could feel them rain down on his hair when the Willow awakened, a soft tremble running through the tunnel.

Severus ignored it, continuing forward. He had to admit that he was a bit curious about what he would find. Lupin, of course, but in what state? The only idea he had of werewolves came from books, usually concerned about how to kill or disable them.

For a moment he wondered how Potter and his moronic friends had managed it. They were with Lupin every month during the full moon, something Black had confirmed, so they must have some way of ensuring their safety. A silver cage? A spell? Maybe even a potion?

Severus wiped the thought away, concentrating on his steps. It didn't really matter. All he had to do was finally get proof and show everyone who their idols really were, what nasty secrets Potter and his friends harboured behind their ever-joking visages.

It was with that determination he pressed onward even when the tunnel turned lower and lower, forcing him to stoop bent-backed, his neck aching after just a few minutes. Around the time he feared a cramp the slope finally rose a bit, an opening looming overhead. It was just as dark as the earth surrounding Severus, but he could feel a breeze, smelling not of damp earth and rich mulch but wood and fresher air.

Severus waited a minute with baited breath, not hearing anything but the faint whistling of the wind. Securing the strap of the camera again, he put his wand between his teeth and pulled himself out of the hole. The darkness around him was complete but he could make out faint moonlight creeping through boarded-up windows, pooling on splintered furniture and tattered rugs. He was inside a room, with old-fashioned wallpaper and stairs leading to a second story, but there was no cage in sight. Severus took his wand, increasing the power of his Lumos only to freeze as it reflected off a pair of wide eyes.

Time seemed to slow for a moment. He registered the hunched posture of the shadow, its long limbs, gleaming teeth and patchy fur. And the next he was bowled over, the air pushed from his lungs as a heavy weight almost crushed him, the growl from the creature pressing down on him vibrating through his flesh, claws piercing his robes and teeth snapping inches from his nose, spittle speckling his skin.

There was no time to think, no time to wonder why the werewolf wasn't restrained, no opportunity to mesh this monster with the picture of Potter's friend, there was no chance to do anything but point his wand and scream: "Expulso!"

The bright explosion blistered his skin as it ripped the creature from him, his wand flung from his grip. Severus was blind and disorientated, weaponless and in danger, he could smell singed fur and hear that horrible growl, the creature was still alive and angry. But he couldn't see it, whenever he blinked the afterimage of the explosion would be layered over his vision, squiggly lines that swam and made nausea crawl up his throat while he tried to get back on his feet without tripping over.

And then he fell backwards as someone clamped his collar, cutting off his air and startled scream as he was pulled down. He clawed behind his back, trying to free himself when a voice cut through his blind panic.

"You idiot!"

And before he had time to process the situation he was pulled through the opening he had just climbed out of, landing on slippery soil. Something large and furred brushed by him and he flinched back, hysteria scratching across his heart when another growl filled the air, echoing more deeply than the first.

"Fluffy, guard."

His vision cleared enough to barely make out white-blonde hair and stormy eyes and Severus realised that he must have a concussion or maybe died, because it was much more likely that the collector of his soul (a valkyrie or maybe even an angel, no matter how far-fetched) came to get him instead of that the harpy had followed after him.

"What were you thinking?" the hallucination hissed at him. "You almost died!"

Severus remained mute but an answer was not expected anyway it seemed. The hallucination frowned at him.

"Get up, we're out of here. Fluffy, don't let that thing through!"

Severus teetered to his feet, feeling a bit numb. His fingers closed around nothing and a prickle of unease pierced the fog of his stunned thoughts.

"My wand –"

His cheek burned. He blinked against the sudden sting, the fact that his hallucination had just slapped him and it had actually hurt taking a few heartbeats to sink in.

"You can crawl back up there and search for your stupid stick all you like, but I will not save you from yourself twice, Severus Snape!"

Huffing, the harpy turned her back to him and walked off, as dignified as was possible while she had to stoop her high head.

Severus didn't crawl back into the den of the monster. Instead he shut up and followed behind her.

The air seemed to press down on Petunia, as if it was channelling all the weight of the packed dirt above her, compressed into this narrow pathway leading back to the murder tree. Severus was behind her, not saying anything but not quiet either, his breath rasping and loud as if his lungs were still struggling for air. Petunia refused to look at him, refused to look at anything down here, not that she was able to see much in the darkness of the underground, closing in around her like a weightless blindfold tied around her head. Mud was crusted underneath her nails, traces of when she had scrambled on the way to save the wretched boy, itching and exerting pressure. Now she brushed her fingers softly against the walls, allowing herself a more leisurely pace, hoping the adrenaline she could still taste bitter on her tongue would ebb soon.

But she was still strung tight, remembering the growls, remembering the flash of glowing eyes she had seen, remembering the glimpse of ripped robes that had dangled from Severus' chest. She flinched whenever a root nudged against her skin or tugged her hair, whenever her shoulder bumped into a wall she hadn't expected.

And suddenly she couldn't stand the silence any longer, suddenly it beat down on her as much as the imagined mass of compacted air, something in her head screwed tighter and tighter with every one of his harsh exhalations.

"How could you be so stupid?"

Her voice seemed to ring for a moment, spreading through the air, rippling it back into motion. Her shoulders were lighter, her head clearer and she exhaled a breath it had felt she'd been holding.

"Black –"

"I don't care what Black told you! You should have never trusted him!"

"They're here every month." Severus' voice gained volume, his breath evening out, not rasping as loudly. "He made some comments – I assumed Lupin was restrained or incapacitated, or something! How else would they be able to spend time with him?"

For a bare second Petunia allowed that the notion had merit. But she didn't want to agree with him, she wanted to vent and argue and be rid of all that jittery tension still infesting her body.

"There was no guarantee whatsoever that their protections would extend to you!"

"It was a logical conclusion!"

Petunia whirled around and did something that she hadn't done since they were children.

She pushed him.

"You're an insufferable idiot, a reckless, suicidal maniac so eager to be right, you almost killed yourself! Don't you even realise? Tonight, you could've – you almost –"

There was a sharp tug, Petunia stumbled forward and it took a second to process that Severus had grabbed her collar. "Shut up! You want to talk about suicidal? When you're the one always traipsing through the dungeons as if its a place for a nice afternoon stroll, with your stupid bright hair and ugly boots –"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Petunia tried to push him again, but he was holding her too steadily, so instead she clawed her dirty fingers into his already ruined robe. "You don't tell me what to do, I would never be as idiotic –"

"You're the biggest idiot I've ever met, a muggle who thinks it's just a brilliant idea to dive headfirst into a society she doesn't understand, that looks down on her, what could possibly go wrong –"

"You're the reason I'm even here! If you hadn't tattled, if you hadn't been such a spineless little traitor –"

"What, you would be in London, slaving away in some muggle office? Getting ready to pop out a brood of fat, ugly babies that would puke and shit themselves –"

"Aspen would never have been taken away from me –"

"And cursing Lily everyday just because she has what you want –"

"Of course you'd bring Lily into this, can't go a second without thinking of her, can you, you're such a pathetic, lovesick fool –"

"You can't even admit to yourself that –"

"She has nothing that I want, nothing!"

"You're the fool, powerless, you don't know anything, why would you ever come here –"

"Because you'd have died if I didn't!"

Her words rang in her ears, too loud in the sudden silence.

Petunia didn't know what they had even been arguing about, she didn't know when Severus had pressed her against the dirt wall behind her, she wasn't sure when her hands had changed from pulling to holding, why he was looming over her, a shadow amongst shadows, his chest heaving, close enough that she could feel his exhalations. For just a second something shivered through her, something prickling and hot like an electric shock and then the fist at her neck loosened, his hand falling away, her own following suit, a sudden loss of tension in her limbs.

"I …" His voice sounded different, raw. Petunia held her breath without knowing why. "Tonight, without you, I …"

And then they both flinched when a flare of brightness suddenly pierced through the cloak of darkness sheltering them.

"Pet?"

Oh, perfect. Just who she had needed to make this night even better.

She couldn't see him through her watering eyes, but she practically felt Severus stiffen in front of her.

"What are you doing here? With Snivellus?"

"Potter," Severus hissed and he had never sounded more like a snake than in that moment.

Petunia blinked against the brightness, making out a nest of unruly black hair and gleaming, round glasses, a wand with a glowing tip held in front of him.

"I think we could ask you the same," Severus said, his voice sharp and cool like a blade. "Whatever are you doing here, Potter?"

"I came to stop you, before Moony could – I mean, before something happened."

Severus scoffed. "Likely."

"Actually, this works out well," Petunia decided. "You can come with us."

Severus glared at her as if she had just sold his firstborn and Potter frowned. "Why? Where are you going?"

Petunia pushed off the wall behind her, straightening her shirt and brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"The Headmaster's office."

Of course the password was something ridiculous.

It was disquieting, this dichotomy of crawling out of the earth's intestines beneath a tree that could bludgeon them, fleeing from a creature that wanted to gut them only to be forced to look at a pompous gargoyle and say something as mundane as: "Sticky Toffee."

At least Petunia wasn't the one forced to voice it, though she did wonder if every student was aware of the password or if Potter was a special case. And then Petunia remembered that little extracurricular club the Headmaster was organising and quickly forced herself to take a few deep breaths to calm her anger before it could sharpen even more.

The Headmaster's office reinforced the strange split of the evening, cosy in a way that was hard to describe. It was cluttered but not messy, silver instruments tinkling and puffing in the background, portraits dozing on the walls, soft candlelight bathing everything in golden warmth and a large claw-footed desk behind which Professor Dumbledore sat as if he had expected them. He was wearing long robes in a bright turquoise that should have clashed but somehow fit in the room as if he had ordered them together.

"Mr Potter, Mr Snape, Ms Evans," Dumbledore greeted, smiling indulgently. Not once did his eyes stray to the smears of dirt on their faces or the large rips in Severus' robe, the broken camera dangling around his neck. "What an interesting group."

"Professor," Potter returned the greeting while Snape forced a gravelly "Headmaster" from between clenched teeth.

Petunia stayed silent.

"Sherbert lemon, anyone?"

Severus flinched back as if the Headmaster had offered pickled slugs. Petunia frowned. "Headmaster –"

"A late night snack never goes amiss. And I find that a small dose of sugar can drive away any lingering bad feelings – and I wouldn't want you to go to bed with those still clamouring about."

Bad feelings?

"About curfew," Potter started, maybe prompted by the mention of going to bed.

"Oh, I always found curfew more of a suggestion than a rule, though don't tell Minerva I said so. This is the perfect time for adventure after all."

"Adventure," Petunia repeated faintly, barely believing what this old man was spouting.

"I'll take one," Potter said, grabbing a small yellow bonbon and clacking it against his teeth. Dumbledore smiled. "None for you two? It'll calm your nerves."

"My nerves don't need to be calmed," Petunia bit out.

"No?" He said with twinkling eyes and if Petunia had been holding anything more substantial than Fluffy's leash she would have thrown it at his head.

"I want to file a complaint."

"Oh my. Whatever for?"

"Because we almost died."

Dumbledore leaned back, his half-moon glasses glinting. His voice was for once grave and serious. "I am very sorry that you feel so unsafe here, Ms Evans."

"I don't think it's unreasonable to feel so," Petunia countered, striving for calm and collected. "After what happened."

"I never said you were unreasonable," Dumbledore replied mildly.

Petunia gripped the leash tighter. For a second her mind flitted to Fluffy, left behind in the damp darkness with a bright-eyed shadow.

"Nothing really happened," Potter pointed out, though the confidence in his voice rang false. "It was just a prank gone wrong, Professor."

"A prank," Severus scoffed, one long-fingered hand deliberately brushing across his mutilated robes. "He tried to kill me."

"And I almost fell off my broom last week, which could have ended equally as deadly," Potter quibbed. "Sometimes these things just happen."

"However much this might pain you, your broom is not sentient, Potter."

"Neither is – well, not not-sentient, but not intentional! It was an accident."

Petunia hadn't looked away from Dumbledore ever since Potter opened his mouth. "Aren't you curious what we're talking about, Headmaster?"

The old man sighed. "I suspect I might have an idea."

The others remained silent so Petunia spoke up. "So you know there's a monster on the school grounds."

"A monster," Dumbledore repeated, his snowy eyebrows lowering. "That is a heavy accusation to make."

"I find it very appropriate, in this case," she hissed.

"Please, tell me what makes you think so."

"The fact that it tried to rip Severus apart and would have done so if I hadn't brought Fluffy along with me."

"It was Lupin," Severus hissed, speaking up before Dumbledore could reply. "He's a werewolf."

"Liar," Potter was quick to spit out. His breath smelled like lemons. "If you spread anything like that again, I'll –"

"Boys," Dumbledore cut in mildly. "Please, let your animosity rest for the night."

"I'm not lying," Severus insisted and Petunia swallowed and agreed: "He's not. I saw the creature myself."

"Just because there's a werewolf doesn't mean Snivellus' wild theories about Remus –"

"Mr Potter." Dumbledore interrupted with a smile. "Your fierce loyalty is very admirable. But I fear there is no need to protest – I was after all the one that brought young Remus here."

Petunia blinked. It sounded like … an admittance. Severus must have come to the same conclusion, a sliver of crooked teeth visible when his lip curled in disgust. "You knew?"

"Dear boy, of course I did. This is my school."

"Why?" Petunia asked. "Why bring him here?"

"I thought out of anyone, you would understand, Ms Evans. The way society tends to exclude certain people for things they cannot influence. Remus Lupin did not choose his fate and affliction, just as many of us don't."

Petunia was reminded of their first meeting, of the metal statue in the middle of that fancy hall, depicting beings cowering and oppressed underneath the gleaming robes of their betters. A small nip of shame stole through her outrage, almost making her flinch when she then remembered the pale and scarred boy she had met on the train, who had been strange but not unkind.

But in the end he wasn't who she was really furious at.

"Which is why I'm not here for him – I want Sirius Black expelled."

This time even Dumbledore looked faintly surprised, if only for a second. "Mr Black?"

"He's the one that goaded Severus, that told him how to subvert the security measures to get to Remus Lupin, who is not at fault for his friend's actions. If Sirius hadn't led Severus to believe that he'd be safe, he would never have put himself in danger like that."

Severus had frozen but Potter wasn't that easily muted. "Sirius never told him he would be safe! It's Snivellus' own fault for going where he's not wanted."

"He heavily implied that you regularly spend time with Remus even during the full moon. What else was he supposed to believe?"

"No-one told him to go!" Potter countered.

"So you can tell me in all honesty that your friend Black had no ill intentions when he told Severus how to get there, that he wasn't secretly hoping he would be harmed or even killed?"

"Sirius is not like that! He can be a bit of an ass, but he simply didn't think this through –"

"You can't really be trying to plead ignorance considering everything that happened. I agree that the fault doesn't lie with Lupin and certainly not with Severus, who is an idiot but also the victim, but with Black, who used his friend as an unwitting weapon against someone he regularly bullies. Severus could have died! And what, it's all forgiven because it was simply a prank among boys?"

It took Potter a second too long to argue back, giving Dumbledore a chance to chime in, his voice soothing and calm. "Ms Evans, maybe we should have this discussion once tempers have had a chance to cool and the order of events can be clearly established. I will ask both of your Head of Houses to investigate what happened and if Ms Evan's words prove true there will be consequences."

His last words were clearly directed at Potter and Severus, who had turned to glare at Petunia ever since she had said he was a victim.

Consequences, Petunia thought. What a nebulous and meaningless word.

"Severus is not –"

"I am sure you see it that way, Ms Evans, but I believe both parties should be allowed to voice their concerns. I am familiar with Mr Black and though I don't doubt your conviction I will give him a fair chance to explain himself. Now, all of you would be well served to take this chance to go to bed and rest. Please stay behind for a moment, Mr Potter."

"Yes, Professor," Potter agreed, unusually obedient. Severus remained silent and it was in that same tense atmosphere that they left the Headmaster's office, descending the spiralling staircase.

"Don't call me a victim."

"But you are, a victim of your own stupidity."

Petunia expected a biting rebuttal, something blistering and sharp but instead he just looked away. Maybe he was as exhausted as her, feeling like a dishrag that had been wrung too tightly, the wrinkles embedded in her surface forever.

Why had she even bothered? It was clear that nothing much would come from this, that the Headmaster had no intention of actually prosecuting his student, at least not this one. Maybe nothing would have changed if she had decided not to follow those voices in the corridor, if she had simply returned to her chambers and locked herself in, if –

"Thanks."

Petunia almost stumbled down the stairs, her feet slipping in surprise. "What?"

A dark glare was her only answer but somehow it was buoyanting, probably the opposite effect of what the wretched boy had intended.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you clearly."

Severus sped his steps, his robe billowing in his wake.

"Shut up, Harpy."