Secret spilt
Sirius Black had always lived on the edge of chaos, teetering between brilliance and recklessness. It was his charm, his defining trait, and his downfall. Tonight, however, Sirius pushed that boundary further than ever before.
The Gryffindor common room was quieter than usual, most students having retreated to their dormitories. Sirius lounged on the arm of a worn-out chair near the fire, his black hair falling into his storm-gray eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though there was no audience to admire it. James had gone off to patrol, and Remus was… otherwise occupied.
The full moon glared down from the night sky.
Snape’s sneering face lingered in Sirius’s mind. He hated that greasy git, the way he poked and prodded, always searching for an opening to strike at them. The Marauders had dealt with him before, sure, but Sirius wanted to shut him up once and for all. A perfect opportunity had presented itself—Snape had been sniffing around about Remus. He was too close to the truth.
An idea sparked. Diabolical, perhaps. But wasn’t that Sirius Black’s specialty?
“Let’s see how brave you really are, Snivellus,” Sirius muttered to himself, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He scribbled a quick note, enchanted it to float down the corridor, and sent it off.
The message was simple: “Want to know what Lupin’s been hiding? Follow the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. Tonight’s your chance.”
Half an hour later, Sirius sat in the darkened common room, staring into the flames. For once, his grin had faded. He tapped his fingers against his knee, unease blooming in his chest. He had expected the thrill of the prank to drown out any second thoughts, but instead, dread coiled tighter and tighter.
Sirius, you idiot. What if he actually goes?
The sound of footsteps outside snapped Sirius out of his thoughts. He leapt to his feet and peered out of the window. Sure enough, a lone figure was skulking across the grounds, heading straight for the Whomping Willow.
Snape.
“Bloody hell,” Sirius hissed, his heart dropping into his stomach.
It wasn’t just Snape he was worried about now. If Snape went in there… if he got hurt…
If Remus hurt him.
The image of Remus’s face—his usually kind, reserved friend—flashed in Sirius’s mind. He could see the anger, the betrayal, the devastation that would follow.
“No, no, no. This can’t happen,” Sirius muttered, grabbing his wand and bolting out of the common room.
By the time Sirius reached the Whomping Willow, he was gasping for air. The branches whipped furiously at the slightest movement, protecting the entrance to the tunnel below. He scanned the ground frantically.
Snape was gone.
“Damn it!” Sirius cursed, jabbing at the knot on the tree with his wand to freeze the branches. Without another thought, he slid into the tunnel and sprinted down its dark, narrow path.
“Snape!” Sirius called, his voice echoing off the stone walls. There was no response. He pushed forward, adrenaline driving him, until the tunnel opened up into the Shrieking Shack.
And that’s when he heard it—the low, guttural growl.
Sirius froze. His blood ran cold as his eyes adjusted to the dim light spilling through the cracked windows.
Remus was there, no longer Remus at all, but a towering, snarling werewolf.
And directly in his path stood Severus Snape, frozen in terror.
“Snape, move!” Sirius shouted, charging forward. Snape barely had time to react before Sirius tackled him, shoving him out of the way just as Remus lunged.
The werewolf’s claws raked across Sirius’s back, tearing through fabric and flesh with brutal ease. Sirius cried out, pain exploding across his body. He stumbled but managed to twist around, placing himself between Remus and Snape.
“Run!” Sirius yelled over his shoulder, blood dripping onto the wooden floor.
Snape didn’t move, his wide, horrified eyes fixed on Sirius.
“GO!” Sirius roared, forcing himself to stand despite the agony burning through him.
But there was no time to think, no time to react. Remus lunged again, his jaws snapping shut on Sirius’s right shoulder. Sirius screamed as sharp teeth tore into his flesh, the pain unbearable, all-consuming.
The world blurred around him, his vision dimming as the werewolf’s snarls and growls filled his ears.
This was bad. This was really, really bad…