Snape's Clue
Chapter 14: Snape's Clue
October 17, 1993
About a week had passed since Sia had last talked to the bright-haired Auror. She spotted Tonks in the library, poring over a book, and walked over quietly to sit beside her.
"Hey," Sia whispered.
Tonks looked up from her book, smiling when she saw her. "Hey. How are you?"
"Pretty good," Sia said, setting down her bag on the table and pulling out her half-completed Transfiguration essay. "What are you reading?"
"Something for training," explained Tonks. "It's called Knowing the Countercurse. It's on my list of required books for Auror training."
"Ah," said Sia. "Isn't an Auror someone who works at the Ministry?"
"Yep. Think of it as basically chasing the bad guys, except with a ton of paperwork." Tonks grimaced. "Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?"
Sia let out a quiet laugh. "Not work at the Ministry, that's for sure."
Tonks frowned. "Why not?"
Sia sighed. "I wouldn't be accepted. Believe me."
"Okay," said Tonks, still frowning. "Do you want me to get you something from Hogsmeade? It's that village nearby, and there's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend."
"No, it's okay," Sia whispered, glancing over at Madam Pince to make sure that they weren't too loud. "Thank you, though."
"I'm not taking no as an answer," Tonks said. "Do you want something from Honeydukes? Chocolate? Candy?"
"Er, anything," replied Sia with a small smile. "Thank you."
Tonks grinned. "Don't mention it. Is that Transfiguration?"
"Yeah," Sia sighed, looking down at her essay. "I have to finish it by tomorrow."
"I can help you, if you'd like," Tonks offered.
"Are you sure?" asked Sia. "If you're busy, I can…"
"No, I'm not busy. Mad-Eye and his reading will have to wait," Tonks said, closing her book and setting it aside. "Let's get started."
Tonks was a surprisingly good teacher. She knew the material well and taught Sia the basics to get a good grade in McGonagall's class. They ended up completing the essay and talking to each other for a while. Sia learned that Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, which meant that she could change her appearance at will. Tonks had explained how most people took advantage of the trait, or thought it was her only skill, or thought of her as weird and dismissed her.
Well, Sia could relate to that last one.
Sirius remembered the last time the Marauders had gone to Hogsmeade together.
They had taken Lily with them, and Peter's girlfriend at the time, Henrietta.
Peter. The name alone made Sirius want to vomit.
The six of them had started the day out in Zonko's, and then they had transitioned to one of the Quidditch shops there at James's insistence. Sirius couldn't remember what it was called, but he did know that James had loved it.
James.
His best friend, dead, at… twenty, was it? Twenty-one?
All because of that rat Peter.
They had closed the day out with a colossal snowball fight, which ended up with most of the students and several of the teachers playing. They had gamboled around in the snow for hours, it being their last Hogsmeade trip of the year.
A snow-filled day flurried with fun, happiness, smiles, and laughter. A day to remember for years to come.
It was all Sirius had left. He couldn't have conjured a Patronus without it.
Sirius was a broken man, and this was the one thread holding him together.
And the day it would snap would be the day that Sirius would die. When there was nothing left, nothing to live for, because this was all he had left.
Sirius didn't know dogs could cry. But now, thinking back, thinking on how horrendously he had treated Remus, and what he had done to James and Lily, tears started streaming out of his eyes. It was all his fault.
In a way, he was worse than Peter. He should have known it was coming, and he should've tried to stop it.
And he didn't.
Severus Snape closed his eyes, rubbing wearily at his temples.
It was too much. It was too much for him to take. Why was Dumbledore tormenting him by stationing Lily Evans at Hogwarts, as a Professor, just like him? His role here was essential to prevent the Dark Lord from harming the boy, but was Evans's role here necessary?
He couldn't help but resent James Potter. He hated him, hated him with all his life. He didn't know whether he hated Potter or loved Evans more. It was too tough a decision to make. Why should he even bother making a decision, if he knew Lily couldn't be his?
She was a Potter now. She was Lily Potter. She was now Potter's, Potter's wife, the mother of Potter's children. But to Severus, she was always Evans. She was Lily Evans, and he could not accept otherwise. She was beautiful, the way her hair curled at the bottom, the way her eyes shone when she smiled, her smile. Severus wasn't one to act like a lovesick teenager, but such things used to make him go giddy.
But not anymore. Now all he knew was sadness, misery, pain, rejection. Betrayal. Regret. Regret. How he wished he could set James Potter ablaze, make him pay for the miserable life Severus had to live! How he wished he had asked Lily Evans out before James had gotten to her, because Severus had taken their friendship for granted. He should've known that her knight in shining armor, James Potter, would have been there to catch her when Severus had let her slip.
Lily Evans was gone, gone from his life. And no amount of moping could change that.
But that didn't mean that he wouldn't exact his revenge.
He was blinded, blinded by his hatred for James, and he took it out on Lupin. He knew what Lupin had to go through every full moon, the burden he had to carry. Severus knew how painful it was, and he felt sorry for him. Truly. But he was Potter's friend, he was his friend, and Snape couldn't let it go.
And this was why he had subtly instructed the Defense Against the Dark Arts students to learn about werewolves.
Severus knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't bring himself not to either. He had to. This was about James. About Potter. This was a matter of hatred, and enmity, and Severus would do anything to get back on James for what he had done, for what he had stolen, for stealing his Lily.
Never in his life would he forgive him for that, for stealing her and showing it off, when Lily was his. Severus was one to hold grudges, and this was, by far, the biggest of them all.
"Dean," said Seamus, "meet Aliya."
Aliya was pretty, with flowy black hair, and dark, shining eyes. She was wearing a dark purple sweater and jeans.
"Aliya," said Seamus, "meet Dean."
"Hi," offered Dean weakly.
They were sitting in the Great Hall at dinner.
"Well, you wanted to talk?" asked Aliya to Seamus. "About Hogsmeade?"
"Yeah," said Seamus. "Dean, care to explain?"
"Er," Dean said, feeling his face grow warm, "Seamus wanted us to set up Hogsmeade precautions so that people watch out for Sirius Black."
Aliya snorted. "Why don't you ask a teacher, then?"
"Because!" insisted Seamus, throwing his hands up in the air. "The teachers have already said it so many times! One more time isn't going to make anyone listen."
"Okay, so what do you want me to do about it?" asked Aliya, clearly amused.
"We need to set up some ground rules," explained Seamus. "People need to travel in groups of at least two."
Aliya nodded. "That makes sense. I don't know of anyone who'd go to Hogsmeade alone, anyway."
"Right," Dean agreed. "Maybe we could give free ice cream to people who follow the rule."
"Ice cream?" asked Aliya, pushing back her hair. "In November? I don't know. Maybe we could buy a pack of Honeydukes candies and distribute those, but I don't know if I want to spend my entire Hogsmeade day passing out sweets."
"True," muttered Seamus. "Maybe we can have a teacher do it for us?"
Aliya snorted again. "D'you see Snape handing out candies to students in Hogsmeade?"
Dean and Seamus both laughed.
"Nope," replied Dean. "That's scary. So how about we have the shopkeepers do it, then? Or Filch or someone?"
"Filch?" asked Seamus incredulously. "No. But shopkeepers, not a bad idea. It would attract customers for them anyway, if they're handing out candies."
"Why are we even doing this, again?" asked Aliya.
"Because Seamus is paranoid," explained Dean.
"No it's not!" Seamus protested. "It's because we're protecting the school from Sirius Black."
"Right," said Aliya. "My uncle owns a Hogsmeade shop. He can help promote, I guess."
"Uh-huh," Dean said, nodding. "Is that it?"
"I guess," Aliya replied, shrugging. "Anything else?"
"No," said Seamus stoutly.
"Okay, then," Aliya said, looking highly amused, "bye."
"Bye," said Seamus.
"See you around, I guess," mumbled Dean.
And with a swish of her hair, she was gone.
"You said Diggory's her friend?" muttered Dean in a low voice, glancing around at Cedric with distaste.
"Yep," replied Seamus quietly.
"Darn," whispered Dean.
"Hey, Lily," greeted James, entering his wife's office and setting down a package on the table.
"Hi, James," she replied, smiling. "What's this?"
"You'll have to open it and see," James responded.
"Okay?" said Lily, confused. She reached towards the package and started untying it. James watched her closely, grinning.
"A… box?" asked Lily, when she had unwrapped it. "A cubical box?"
"There's something in the box, Lily," explained James, shaking his head.
"Oh," she replied sheepishly. She carefully lifted the lid and almost squealed with surprise when she saw it. "A cake? James? What flavor?"
"Vanilla and strawberry crumble," recited James, praying that he had memorized the label properly. "I know you love strawberry, so…"
"Thank you, James!" exclaimed Lily, pulling him towards the sofa with her. "Accio fork, there we go." A fork zoomed into her hand and she spooned up a tiny bit of the cake and ate it softly.
James watched her eat, smiling, smiling at the way she chewed it gently, and the little dollop of strawberry frosting on her lips. She sat there and ate for a while until she stopped, noticing him watching her. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied, smirking. "Continue."
"Well, you ruined the moment," complained Lily, picking up another piece of cake. She held the fork up to James's mouth. "Here."
James looked at her skeptically. "I'm a man. I don't do strawberry."
"Big man you are," teased Lily. "Eat it."
"I don't even like strawberry," protested James. "I got it for you."
"Just try it," persisted Lily. "It's so good."
"If you insist," James sighed, making a face. He slowly approached the cake and licked off a tiny bit of the icing.
"How is it?" asked Lily.
"Eh."
"That's because you barely had any. Here, try some more." She stuffed the entire piece into his mouth.
"Mfh!" he protested.
"Say that again, I couldn't hear you," Lily teased, smiling.
He swallowed and tried again. "No!"
"How did it taste, James?" Lily asked, leaning against his shoulder.
He was about to launch into the long list of complaints about why he didn't like strawberry cake, but the feel of his wife's hair tickling his face made it next to impossible to argue. "Okay," he relented.
Her face broke into a grin. "I told you! Now have some more."
"Oh, no," James said quickly. "It's for you, I want you to eat it all."
"It's no fun eating cake without having someone to share it with," pointed out Lily, pouting. Darn it, she was pouting now?
"Fine," he relented, picking the fork out of her hands and taking an infinitesimally small portion for himself. "There, now it's your turn."
She beamed and took another bite of the cake. Just as he was about to protest taking another bite, she leaned over and planted a kiss on his nose.
"You're the best, James. Thanks for the cake."
Suddenly, he found he didn't hate strawberry all that much.
"Please help me," moaned Ron.
"What do you need?" asked Hermione patiently. Harry had gone off to Quidditch practice, and the two of them were sitting in the common room.
Miserably, Ron gestured to Snape's essay that he had set on werewolves for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Oh, that. I finished that ages ago."
"Well, then, help me," pleaded Ron. "Please? I don't want Snape or Professor Lupin to be mad at me for not doing it, but I don't want to do it either."
"So you're going to make me do it?" inquired Hermione, raising an eyebrow.
Ron nodded.
"I see how it is," grumbled Hermione. "Come here and let's see what we can do."
Ron obligingly slid his parchment and books over next to where Hermione was sitting. "Okay. Go ahead."
"We need to write about how to identify a werewolf and how to go about killing them," explained Hermione, not knowing why Snape had assigned them such a gruesome task. "First, identification. There are five basic signs to identify a werewolf. They should be in the textbook, so go find them."
Hermione watched Ron scramble to find the signs to identify a werewolf. In a few minutes, he had scribbled some stuff down.
"Good," said Hermione, "but these are just the physical traits. What about other things? Like the full moon. They transform during the full moon, which means their body undergoes a lot of physical stress. So maybe they appear more tired before and after full moons."
"How often are full moons?" asked Ron.
"Once every four weeks or so," explained Hermione. "I can check my Astronomy charts, give me a second."
She grabbed a book out of her bag and flipped it open to a page over the moon phases. "See, it's… Oh, wait, it's a full moon today!"
"That's cool," said Ron uninterestedly, writing more on his essay.
"It can't be a coincidence that Snape taught us about werewolves today, do you think he wanted us to pick up on it?" Hermione mused. "That today's full moon? That's more a thing Lupin would do, though."
"But the poor bloke was ill today," Ron pointed out.
"Yes…" Hermione stopped suddenly. Was it possible that there was a certain reason that Professor Lupin was ill on a full moon day?
Was there a certain reason why Snape, the man who gave Lupin looks of murder, had asked them to research on how to kill werewolves?
Hermione was starting to think there was.
"Hermione?" asked Ron nervously. "Are you okay?"
"No, nothing," dismissed Hermione, although her heart was beating rapidly. Was it possible that… that Remus Lupin, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was a werewolf himself?
He wouldn't want you to think of him as a Dark creature, Miss Granger, echoed Dumbledore's voice in her head, and she could almost see him smiling.
"Ron, I think you can finish this on your own," she said quickly, standing up. "I'm heading to the library."
It was very late at night, and Tonks was just about to head to bed when she heard a soft knock on her door.
"Just a minute," she called softly, and she ran a finger through her raspberry-colored hair. She slid over to the door (sliding in socks was absolutely something she couldn't help but do) and opened it to the worried face of Remus Lupin.
"Hi," she greeted pleasantly. "Do you want something?"
"Did I wake you up?" he asked anxiously.
"Not at all," she replied, smiling. "I was just about to head to bed, actually."
"Oh." He glanced up and down her body, and she was suddenly conscious of her pale pink pajamas.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling apologetically. "I wasn't expecting anyone, so…"
He smiled. "It's okay. You look cute."
"Oh," she responded, blushing, and cursing herself for doing so. "Thanks. Come in?"
"Thank you," he replied politely, and she led him into her room.
"It's not much," she said, gesturing to the sofa. "Have a seat, though. What did you want to talk about? Also, can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?"
"I'm fine, thanks," he declined. After they were both seated he asked quietly, "Did you hear about what Severus did?"
"Assigning your students an essay on how to kill their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Yeah, I've heard." Rage flamed through her blood.
"Yeah," Remus said, shifting uncomfortably. "Well..."
"And I do want you to know that nothing that git says changes my opinion of you," she continued firmly. "Continue."
"R-Right. Well, I guess I just… I don't know. I feel bad that I'm, well, hiding my condition from all of my students. They deserve to know, Tonks, and I just feel bad for manipulating their feelings. Half of them wouldn't want to be taught by me if they knew what I was."
"So… you're feeling guilty that you're not telling your students that you have lycanthropy?"
"Yeah," he admitted, fiddling with his thumbs.
"Hey," she said, crossing the room so that she was sitting next to him, "not everyone has to tell everyone everything. Did Lavender tell you she had an uncle?"
He gave a small smile. "No, but everyone has an uncle."
"Not if their parents didn't have brothers."
"Fine, but most people have uncles. Not everyone has lycanthropy."
"Remus, you have to realize that you may not be the only one," she said gently, placing her hand over his. "Not just the only werewolf," she added quickly, as he raised an eyebrow, "but there are going to be other people with… problems. You know. Maybe it's someone who's scared to come out as homosexual, or maybe it's someone who doesn't know English. It took a while for people to get adjusted to me, when I was at Hogwarts, because I have familial ties to the Most Notorious House of the Black."
He snorted. "I thought it was the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?"
"Well, it was definitely notorious," she replied, shrugging. "But the point is, everyone has their own secrets. Things that they aren't comfortable in sharing. I'm a Metamorphmagus. You're a werewolf. Hogwarts is a place for diversity, despite what you think. You're not obliged, in any way, to tell anyone."
His hand came to rest on her thigh, sending waves of pleasure inside her. "I know, it's just…" He ran his other hand through his hair, only causing it to be even more dishevelled. Tonks loved how cute he looked when he was nervous. "I don't want anyone to figure out, you know. I'd rather tell them."
"That slimy excuse for a Potions teacher," growled Tonks. "How dare he."
"It's okay," Remus assured. "I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you were heading to bed. I just didn't want to bother James and Lily, since…"
"Oh, I intruded on one of their… moments, the other day," Tonks replied with a small smile. "I felt so embarrassed. But Remus, I don't want you to apologize for coming to meet me. I like spending time with you. If you ever want to talk to me, even if it's three in the morning, I don't care. Come talk to me. I like you, Remus. We're friends. That's what friends do."
"I… I don't even deserve someone like you," he said quietly. "You're…"
"That's not true," she interjected softly. "You deserve everything, Remus, you're amazing. Don't criticize yourself, please."
"Thank you," he whispered, gently putting his hand on top of hers and resting it on her thigh with a squeeze. "Thank you, Tonks. That really means so much to me. More than you could imagine."
She gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course."
"I'll… leave you to your sleep now," Remus said with a small smile. "Thanks."
"No problem. Good night, Remus."
"Good night, Tonks."
She hesitated, plagued with the urge to do something more, to say something more, but she felt that there was a sort of finalness to the conversation. But she couldn't resist, either, so she turned so that she was facing him, then carefully put an arm around him and nestled her head on top of his shoulder. He returned the gesture, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Good night, Tonks," he repeated, and then he was gone in a blur.