metamorphosis

Severus Snape burst through the door. He walked quickly, almost running, his robes billowing behind him. His eyes were wild and he looked desperate, uncontrolled. When he spoke, his voice came out laced with panic.

“Lily Evans!” he cried, the sound echoing around the cavernous room. The figure facing the open window slowly turned around to face him.

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted coldly, “to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“Lily.” Snape repeated, his voice cracking.

“James Potter’s wife?” At these words, Snape’s face twisted with anguish, but he swallowed, evidently trying to compose himself, and answered,

“Yes. Do you think– the prophecy, I mean– you think it means her son?” Voldemort regarded him cautiously.

“Yes, Severus. Harry Potter was born at the end of July. His parents have evaded me three times. There is no question of who the prophecy refers to. I will eliminate this threat.”

“When you say eliminate, you mean you are going to kill them all?” This made no sense. Of course he was going to kill them all. By ridding the world of Harry Potter, he would become truly invincible, and only then could he save the Wizarding World.

“Yes.”

“There is no need to kill them all! There is no need–” But his voice was drowned out as Voldemort cut in.

“I will decide what there is and isn’t a need for, Severus. Are you forgetting who you answer to?” Snape looked horrified and shook his head.

“No, my lord. It’s just–”

“Why are you here?” Voldemort asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Snape looked as though he was gathering his courage, steeling himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, though still full of that inexplicable urgency.

“Please. Spare Lily. You have no idea what she means to me. I have never – never – asked you for anything. I have followed your orders perfectly and without question. I have done everything I can to serve you, to aid you. I brought you the prophecy, the great key to your eternal power. I ask you this one great favour, and I will never ask you for anything again. I ask you this in return for a lifetime of continued service.”

Voldemort met the pleading eyes of Severus Snape, and looked deeper. He looked into his mind. He was overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings: pain, longing, anguish, yearning, and some other indescribable feeling, unbearably strong. An image flashed before him of a beautiful woman. She stood very close, her eyes filled with fire, her hair flying behind her, her chest heaving with emotion. In the split second that he was inside Snape’s mind, the feeling seemed to tear his chest in two. He hastily pulled away, resisting the urge to shudder.

This made no sense. He had always viewed Severus as an intelligent, rational person. Why, then, was he so lost in the murky depths of emotion, as far away from reason as a person could get? Voldemort thought back to the woman, her beauty, her chest, her hair, and he understood. This was not about emotion. Severus desired the woman. Taking this into account, he considered before he spoke.

“It’s true that you have been a good and faithful servant. However, you have already promised me a lifetime of service. In order for me to grant you this reward, I require something more from you.”

“I’ll do it.” Snape said immediately. Voldemort felt a smile curling on his lips. It was just too easy.

“Albus Dumbledore. He is too far out of my reach, but I hear that there is an opening for a potions master at Hogwarts.” Snape only looked taken aback for a moment, before he nodded.

“I’ll do it.” he repeated.

“Good,” said Voldemort, smiling again, “For this service, I will reward you. If there is another option, I will not kill Lily Evans.”

Snape still looked tense, and words tumbled from his mouth in a rush.

“Will you swear it to me? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?”

Once again, Voldemort considered. He needed Snape’s loyalty. After all, it wasn’t as though he was going to swear not to kill the girl. Even if he did, he couldn’t die. An Unbreakable Vow meant nothing to him, not when he had his five horcruxes. All he had to do was make an empty promise of effort, and then he would have Albus Dumbledore in his pocket.

“I will. Narcissa ought to be home. Call her in. She will be our bonder.” Snape nodded and began to leave the room, but Voldemort called after him, “Severus? Do not let her know of my plans. We must operate under the utmost secrecy.”

“Of course, my lord.”

In a moment, Snape had returned with Narcissa, who looked confused and terrified. He did not bother speaking to her, but held out his hand to Severus, who took it immediately. Narcissa took out her wand, and placed it on their hands. Snape broke the silence.

“If there is another option, will you swear not to kill Li–” he paused, his eyes darting towards Narcissa and back again. He cleared his throat and continued, “not to kill them all?”

“I do.” At his words, a scarlet rope of magic burst from Narcissa’s wand and twisted around their hands, tying them together, before it faded away like a dying flame.
As Snape left Malfoy Manor, his mind was filled with thoughts of Lily and Dumbledore and betrayals. He was so preoccupied that he never noticed Fenrir Greyback drawing into the shadows under the open window, from which Voldemort’s voice was still clearly audible.

***

“Identify yourself.”

“My name is Remus John Lupin. I am a werewolf. I was a groomsman at your wedding. You, Lily Potter, sent me an urgent letter, asking me to meet you immediately.”

The door flew open, and Remus had no time to take in the sight of Lily before she threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He staggered backwards, his joints aching, still sore from last night’s transformation, but he managed to hold his balance and tentatively hugged her back. She was sobbing, her whole body shaking with the force of it.

“Remus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. We don’t know what to do.” Remus looked up from Lily to the doorway, where her husband still stood. He was unnaturally pale and his eyes were rimmed with red.

“James.” But James only answered the unspoken question with a shake of his head. Finally, Lily pulled away and looked Remus in the face.

“It’s Harry, Remus. He–” she put a hand over her mouth as another sob fought to escape. James walked forward and put his arm around her, guiding her back into the house.

“Come in, Remus. Just– You’ll see.” Bewildered, but with a growing sense of panic, Remus followed them into the house, locking the door behind him. He followed them up the stairs, until they stood outside the door he knew to lead to Harry’s bedroom.

“He’s sleeping.” Lily whispered, putting a finger over her lips, even as her breath came in sharp little gasps. The door opened with a soft creak. It was a peaceful room, with pastel blue walls and sheer white curtains that usually billowed in the wind, but today the window was closed and locked. It gave the room a stifling feeling, Remus thought. He approached the crib with Lily and James, peering in at the sleeping boy. Wordlessly, James tilted his son’s sleeping head, so that Remus could see the place on his neck. Remus had to stifle a gasp.

There was a bite mark.

At once, Remus knew what it was, and he couldn’t stop himself from grasping his hip, where his own matching mark was hidden under his trousers. Lily gestured out of the room, and Remus took one last look at the sleeping child before tearing his gaze away and following them out of the room. Once they were safely on the landing, Remus gently shut the door, and turned to his friends, wondering where to even start. He managed to choke out,

“But– how?”

“It was last night.” James replied in a colourless, broken tone, “Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night and cries, and he won’t go back to sleep if you pick him up, so we’ve been trying to just let him sleep. Last night, I was up getting a drink, and I heard him cry. I tried to let him cry it out, but I hate hearing him cry, and he just wasn’t stopping. I went up to his room, thinking I could at least calm him down, but–” James’ voice broke, and Remus reached out to him, but James shook him off, blinking hard.

“There was so much blood, Remus. His mattress, his clothes, his sheets. He’s so small, and there was so much blood. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I yelled for Lily and she came running. I didn’t know what to do. None of the spells I know would work on a werewolf bite. She came in and grabbed one of Harry’s shirts to hold against the bite and she screamed at me to go get the dittany. I gave it to her and she put it on the wound. It closed up a bit. The bleeding eased up, but it didn’t stop. She bandaged his neck up and I cleaned up the blood.”

“We’ve been applying dittany every hour, but…” Lily trailed off hopelessly.

“It’s a wonder he survived.” whispered Remus, “He’s lucky to have you two.”

“Remus, I thought werewolves didn’t kill. I thought they just turned people.” said James, desperately.

“You’re right.” said Remus, “That’s a wolf’s instinct. But if the werewolf is really determined to kill someone, then they will.”

“So, you’re saying someone intended this?” cried Lily, “This was attempted murder?” Remus looked into her face, glazed with tears, and wished he could give another answer.

“Yes.” Lily turned to her husband and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and when she spoke, her voice was muffled.

“What do we do, Remus? We don’t know– we don’t know how to help him.” Remus looked to James. Tears were silently streaming down his face, but he looked steadily at Remus. An unspoken understanding seemed to pass between the two of them.

“But you do.” said James, voice barely above a whisper. Remus nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“I do.”

“What are you saying?” asked Lily, lifting her head to look at her husband’s determined face. He did not look at her.

“Remus, you’re the only one who can help him. You know things that no one else can know– about what it’s like to go through a transformation, about how to care for yourself, about how to live as a–”

“A werewolf.” Remus finished for him, when James seemed unable to continue.

“Yes,” James said, “Remus, you’re one of my best mates. You know I wouldn’t be asking this if there was any other option.”

“James, what are you saying?” repeated Lily, sounding scared. Finally, he looked at her.

“I think Remus should take Harry for a while. Not forever, of course. He’s our son, and you know nothing could change that. I know you feel the same way. But it’s going to be hard for him, harder than we could even imagine. You said it yourself, Lils. We don’t know how to help him. He’d be safest with Remus.” James turned to Remus and spoke directly to him. “Remus, you know what it’s like to grow up alone and different. You know what it’s like to be scared of something inside of you– scared of yourself. You know how much pain you were in. Please, don’t make Harry go through that. Please, don’t leave my son alone.”

Remus looked into his pained, pleading face. He knew James was right, and yet, he couldn’t just rip a child away from his parents.

“Lily?” he asked, tentatively. She was quiet for a long time before responding.

“Yes.” she said, sounding meeker than he had ever heard her before. “James is right. I don’t want to leave him, but–” she broke off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, her voice was steadier. “I have to think of my son. Please, Remus. Help us.”

Remus looked at the bedroom door, as though he could see through the wood and to the child still sleeping inside. The child, who was bitten even younger than he was. The child, who would never be able to remember a life where he didn’t have a scar on his neck. The child, who needed him.

“I’ll do it.”

***

On the last day of October, Remus woke up to an empty bed. He crawled out of the sheets, shuddering as his bare feet touched the cold, wooden floor. He could have gotten out of Sirius’ side, where there was a plush rug to protect his delicate sensibilities from such an indignity, but it seemed like a betrayal to do it when Sirius wasn’t here.

He padded his way through the house, to the kitchen, where he found the cause for the cold floors. The last few days had been unseasonably warm, so he’d opened the windows to let the fresh air in. He’d gone to sleep thinking that Sirius would close them when he got home. Instead, he closed them himself, and busied himself with making tea and toast. When he sat down at the kitchen table, he noticed a slip of paper. He picked it up and read,

"Lily, James, and Harry Potter can be found in the village of Godric’s Hollow."

Sirius must’ve left this for him, to let him in on the Fidelius Charm. Remus squinted at the handwriting. He wouldn’t have recognized it as belonging to Sirius. Things were changing so quickly. With a little sigh, he stood up and put the slip of paper in the fireplace before grabbing his wand and lighting it. Flames danced to life, warming the chilly kitchen, and spreading to the unlit firewood still in the hearth from the previous day. The pops and cracks broke the unnatural stillness of the house. Remus reminded himself that, after tonight, the house was not likely to be still for a long time.

After he finished his breakfast, he put his dishes in the sink, and walked over to the spare bedroom. He had painted the walls a baby blue, like the room Harry was used to in Godric’s Hollow. Hopefully, it would help him feel more at home. He evaluated the room one last time; the toy box, the crib, the tall lamp, the rocking chair. It wasn’t identical to Harry’s current room, but it looked comfortable. It looked like the sort of place where a child could feel safe. The mobile above the crib turned slowly in a languorous circle. Remus watched it for a moment, hypnotised, before shaking himself and backing out of the room.

As the day wore on, he kept checking and double checking his preparations. He’d put corner guards on all the counters and tables. Anything that Harry could put in his mouth was out of reach. The baby gates were all securely attached. He kept opening and closing the fridge, as though the food might’ve disappeared since the last time he looked at it. He knew that Harry wasn’t likely to have any appetite now, not with the moon so close, but once it passed, he would be starving, and Remus wanted him to have enough to eat when he was ready. When evening rolled around, his nerves were high, but he was confident that the house was ready for a child. He left the house, locking the door behind him, and got into the silver-grey car in the driveway. As he adjusted his rearview mirror, his eyes landed on the blue and black car seat.

As soon as he parked in Godric’s Hollow, he knew something was wrong. The night was wet and windy, but he knew the street still ought to be full of light and life, children in costumes, parents holding their hands, but it was not. He listened carefully as he got out of the car, but the street was still. His heart pounding in his ears, Remus jogged down the street, heading towards the place where he knew Lily and James’ house to be. He broke into a sprint when he saw the wreckage of the house, crumbling, with dust so thick in the air that it looked like smoke.

He pushed open the kissing gate, and hurried up the steps. There was no door, only a gaping hole where the door had once been. Remus entered through it, terrified of what he was going to find. He coughed, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose to protect himself from inhaling the dust. His vision was so obscured that he didn’t see it until it was right in front of him. The body. The shell. The husk of what once held a soul full of life, so full of life that Remus had almost believed him immortal. Indestructible. Unbreakable. Yet, there he was – broken. The eyes that he knew so well were empty.

James Potter was dead at his feet.

Remus might have frozen there, might have fallen apart in the living room and never made it up the stairs, if not for the crying. Now that he was inside the house, he was able to hear a baby’s cries coming from the second floor. It went on and on, piercing Remus’ ears and heart.

Remus forced himself to look away from the body, and continued up the stairs. The crying got louder and louder as he got closer. Finally, he reached the landing and pushed open Harry’s bedroom door. He knew what he was going to find. He’d known it since he heard Harry crying. Lily would never leave him alone and frightened in a crumbling house, not unless she had no other choice, unless she was – but Remus hadn’t let himself think it. When he opened the door and saw Lily slumped against the crib, unmoving, he froze as though someone had hexed him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but numb shock and disbelief.

Scenes flashed through his head – Lily stretched out on the grass by the lake on a sunny day, her red hair fanning out beneath her. James playing with his stolen snitch, the smug smirk on his face melting into an expression of horror as he fumbled a catch and the snitch went flying off across the grounds. Lily frantically studying for NEWTs with her hair like a rat’s nest and her shirt inside out. James jumping on a common room table and using an empty bottle as a microphone to sing along with Quiet Riot. How could Lily and James Potter be dead?

Though his gaze was still fixed on Lily’s body, something moving in his periphery caught his attention. Tiny, chubby hands were reaching and flailing above Lily’s head. Remus realised that Harry was still crying, stretching as far as his little body would permit, reaching for his mother’s lifeless form. He grew more and more distressed, unable to understand why his mother was ignoring him, unable to understand why he was suddenly alone. It washed over Remus like a bucket of ice water, waking him up, freeing him from where his feet had been stuck to the ground. He lurched forward reaching out to Harry with both arms. The child turned toward him desperately, clinging to Remus’ shirt and burying his face in his chest.

“It’s okay.” Remus said, swaying and bouncing Harry automatically. His voice came out weak and cracked and he dimly registered that his face was wet, though he had no recollection of crying. He held Harry tighter. “It’s okay. You’re not alone.” and he repeated those words until his voice gave out, unsure which one of them needed to hear it more.

***

There was a knock on the door. Remus froze. As he looked through his peephole, he felt a sinking in his stomach. He should’ve expected this. There never was a situation that the man didn’t stick his crooked nose in. Bracing himself, he opened the door for Albus Dumbledore.

“Hello, Remus. May I come inside?”

Remus stepped back to allow Dumbledore entry. He strode over the threshold, looking appraisingly around the little house. Remus did not have the energy to feel self conscious, but he did feel a spark of annoyance at how Dumbledore was judging his home. The living room light was off, but the light from the entryway where he and Dumbledore were standing spilled into the living room and cast a soft glow over the sofa where a small boy was curled up on his side, fast asleep under a canary yellow blanket. The blanket was the only vibrant colour in the room. The walls were white and bare, the coffee and end tables black, the carpet and sofa grey. Remus didn’t much care for it, but Sirius preferred a ‘minimalist’ look. Apparently deciding not to comment on the barren nature of the house, Dumbledore turned to Remus and began to speak.

“I’m here–” he began in a ringing voice, but Remus cut him off, gesturing sharply for his silence.

Looking taken aback, Dumbledore stopped speaking. Remus looked over his shoulder, wondering if Dumbledore’s loud voice had disturbed Harry. The small child was still fast asleep, his deep, steady breaths making his chest rise and fall. Satisfied, Remus looked away and cast a wordless silencing ward over both himself and Dumbledore. Once he felt the spells take effect, he motioned for Dumbledore to continue. He was looking at Remus with a curious expression.

“Why cast the spells on us? Why not just cast a muffliato on Harry, to keep him from hearing us?”

He had a feeling that the old man was testing him, but he had no energy to figure out what answer Dumbledore wanted, so he simply answered with the truth.

“You don’t use spells like that on a baby, Dumbledore.” said Remus, tiredly, “You know that. Why are you here?”

Once again, Dumbledore considered him before speaking.
“I’m here for Harry.”

The two men looked at the sleeping boy. Remus watched him for a moment, noticing how, on every exhale, Harry’s breath caught a lock of hair on his forehead, making it stir as though in a high wind, before settling back down on his skin while he inhaled. Finally, he turned back to Dumbledore.

“How did you know he was here?”

“Hagrid saw you leaving with him. I’m glad you did not disapparate. It isn’t safe for a child of his age.” This made Remus even more frustrated. Did Dumbledore think it a mere coincidence that he had driven all the way home from Godric’s Hollow with a crying child, only three days before the full moon, while his muscles and joints screamed with pain?

“I know that.” he replied, quite calmly.

“I’m here to collect the child.”

“Collect him?” Remus felt the familiar beginnings of anger bubbling in his stomach. The old man was talking about Harry like he was an object.

“Yes,” Dumbledore continued mildly, “I appreciate you taking care of him today. I’m sure it has been very trying, but now it’s time for me to take him where he belongs.” Remus took a deep breath, resisting the urge to allow his anger to break over him.

“He belongs here. With me.”

“He belongs with his family.”

Remus’ restraint cracked.

“I am his family!” he shouted.

“Not by blood. I’m taking him to his mother’s sister. I will explain everything to her.”

“Petunia? You want to drop Harry on Petunia? She hates him, Dumbledore! She’s never even met him!”

“I’m sure she will take him, once she understands the circumstances.” Remus let out a hollow, mean laugh.

“Well, that’s just what every child wants. To be bitterly and resentfully ‘taken.’ Do you understand what you’d be putting Harry through?”

“It’s the only place where he will be safe.”

“Safe? Do you really think they can handle him?”

“Muggles raise magical children all the time. I’m sure he’ll be perfectly safe with them.”

“No, he won’t! I’m the only one he’ll be safe with. I’m the only one.” Remus saw Dumbledore’s eyes flit towards the sleeping boy. Then, he saw his gaze unmistakably drift down to Harry’s neck, to where the bite mark was still healing. Dumbledore’s eyes widened with shock and realisation.

“Oh. Oh, I see.” Remus said nothing, folding his arms. There was no point in denying it, but he wasn’t going to give Dumbledore the power of an outright confirmation. The two men stood silently in the doorway, staring at each other. Finally, Dumbledore spoke.

“Very well then, Remus. You may keep the child, but there are certain safety precautions you must take. I will be in touch with a list of protective charms and enchantments for you to place on this house.”

Remus felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. From the moment he had heard Dumbledore knock at the door, part of him had been convinced that Harry was going to be taken from him. Now that this threat had passed, he was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. He sat down heavily on the couch next to Harry.

“Okay.” he said. He wished Dumbledore would just leave. Sensing the dismissal, Dumbledore turned and put his hand on the doorknob before looking over his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Remus. And good luck to both of you.” With that, Dumbledore left the house, and Remus and Harry were left completely, utterly alone.