Loose ends chapter 31 - Penance

Snape is forced to confront his past. Mental illness, reference to Snape's past crimes.

This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I make no claim or profit etc

Penance
Andromeda left Snape’s flat without extracting a promise from Snape to tell Lupin how he felt. For her part, she had not promised to keep silent if she thought that Lupin needed to be told. However, she decided to keep quiet for a few days at least, and see what happened.

Snape had evidently not shared his feelings with Lupin after his next visit, but he did appear to have managed a slightly higher level of civility. Lupin returned without the wounded look on his face. And so Andromeda decided to say nothing, again. For a while longer, anyway. She didn’t look forward to an awkward conversation with her son-in-law.

It was only a few days before a quiet Saturday morning was disturbed by the appearance of a strange silvery shape that slid across the kitchen floor. Lupin and Harry immediately flung defences in its path, both still inclined to see an attack at every turn. But Andromeda realised quickly what the unusual presence represented.

“It’s a Patronus,” she said.

“Bloody strange one,” muttered Harry.

“Oh, sweet Merlin, it’s a snake,” Lupin exclaimed as it reared up and Wormwood’s voice spoke to them.

“Remus, can you please come to Severus’s flat? There’s a problem. I think he might think he’s a child again. And now he’s gone and we can’t find him.”

Lupin stopped Harry from rushing off immediately, and sent him to collect Grimmy.

“Remember the first time, Harry. I think it’s a good idea to take him.”

The three of them arrived in Liverpool, and found Wormwood and Mandragora standing in Snape’s basement flat. Lucretia arrived within minutes.

“What’s going on?” Lupin asked.

Wormwood’s face was horrified, he looked near tears. Lupin doubted whether he could give a coherent explanation.

The Director spoke, his booming voice unusually quiet.

“He was upset yesterday, and then he didn’t come to the lab this morning. Mr Fox was concerned so we came to see if everything was alright. He was here, but he was very frightened of us. He… panicked and ran off. We followed him but he vanished. We don’t know where he’s gone. Mr Fox mentioned that he’s capable of wandless apparation.”

“Yes, he is, but that doesn’t mean he has. Wormwood said he thought Severus was… thought he was a child again.”

Wormwood nodded but looked as if he would cry if he spoke, and the Director continued.

“Yes, he did seem… well, quite child-like. But just so fearful. He kept asking us not to hurt him and saying he was sorry for being bad.”

“The sounds like Sevvy.”

“Sevvy?”

“That’s the name we call him when he thinks he’s a child. One of his cousins used to call him that. It makes things… less confusing.”

Mandragora sighed. He looked less fearsome, and much more worried, than usual. The man wasn’t known for worrying, and Lupin knew that there was something more than he’d heard so far.

“Can you tell me what upset him, sir?” Lupin asked.

The Director looked down, suddenly almost looking guilty.

“I’m afraid this is my fault,” he said. “Mr Snape visited my office, for some reason, I can’t recall why, and saw a photograph of Gertrude. He recognised her immediately and… he didn’t take it well.”

“Ah, that would explain it. He does tend to use his occlumency to avoid emotional situations that he would rather not face. And then the occlumency results in him getting trapped in those memories.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t try to avoid it at all.” The Director sounded almost offended at the suggestion that Snape had been trying to escape responsibility. “He told me immediately that he recognised her and asked what she had been to me. He openly admitted his role in her death. He was… utterly remorseful.”

Lupin looked in some surprise at the Director. There was far more compassion in his voice than he expected to hear.

“I think I see why you have forgiven him, Mr Lupin. He… he let me talk about her, tell him how much I had loved her, how much her death had hurt, how much I hated him for what he had done. I… ranted at him, screamed at him and… he just sat there and took it. When I was done, he said he knew there was nothing that he could say or do, but he told me how sorry he was, and that he’d spent his life since trying to do the right thing to ensure the defeat of You-know-who and those that thought like him. And then he said he would understand if I didn’t want him at the Institute anymore.”

Mandragora shook his head. Lupin was silent, there was nothing he could think of to say to the director’s story.

“I pointed out that I knew who he was from when he first started coming to the Institute, and he was so… It’s hard to describe. He just couldn’t believe that I’d allowed him there, knowing who he was. I think… I think he expected I’d want to extract some sort of revenge, or at least penance, from him.”

The Director had dropped his eyes and looked almost sad.

“You don’t?” Lupin asked softly.

“I’ve made… enquiries. I’ve heard a lot from young Mr Fox of course. And Miss Temple. I spoke to Minerva McGonagall. Kingsley Shacklebolt. And Albus Dumbledore’s portrait. Merlin, that man was a piece of work.”

Lupin’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I admit, I’m not accustomed to hearing people refer to Albus in those terms.”

Mandragora gave a small snort.

“Well perhaps his portrait is a bit more forthcoming than he was in life. But… Merlin, the way he manipulated people. Young Mr Potter. The poor boy.”

Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably as the Director spoke as if he wasn’t there.

“And his friends. Using children as soldiers in an adult war. And what he asked of Sn… of Mr Snape. It has changed my perspective of the man. There’s nothing I can think of to ask in penance that hasn’t been asked of him ten times over. He’s been denied any sort of will of his own, any normal human relationships…”

“What do you mean, I’m not sure I understand?”

“I’ve always heard that Mr Snape was an unlikable man with no friends – the notable exception being young Mr Fox, who… well we have to acknowledge that he’s a little… unusual. What I didn’t realise is that he was forbidden to have any close friendships that might have been manipulated by You-know-who on his return. Great Gods, it was hardly certain that You-know-who would return at all, and yet Mr Snape was kept like a… like insurance against the possibility of his return. All so that he could return to being a death eater, continuing to murder and maim at You-know-who’s behest, and pass information to the Order.”

“What, forbidden?” Lupin was shocked into a slight raising of his voice. “I knew… well Harry’s mother was Severus’s closest childhood friend, and Severus wanted to get to know Harry when he came to Hogwarts. I know that Severus was ordered to act as if he hated him instead. But… I never heard he was expected… that he was not to have friends.”

“He was ordered to appear hostile to the Order and the Ministry and anyone on that side. He was told not to form any close relationship unless it was potentially of use – such as with the Malfoy family. Nobody who would be on the Order’s side. Apparently young Mr Fox was eventually allowed as an exception because he was so utterly transparent he had no value to either side, and was considered dispensable.”

Lupin was silent. Unfortunately, Mandragora’s explanation made perfect sense.

“What do you mean, I’m ‘transparent’?” Wormwood asked suddenly, looking at his hand.

“Oh, Wormwood, he means that you can’t deceive people, love. That you wouldn’t make a good spy.” Lucretia took Wormwood’s arm, but her eyes were on Lupin and Mandragora.

“I’m not interested in what has upset him right now. We need to find him,” she added, looking pointedly out the door of the flat. “You said you weren’t sure he would apparate?”

“I don’t know if he can when he’s in this… state. At the farmhouse, we have wards. Sevvy used to run off and hide when he was frightened.”

They moved outside, into the cool winter morning. Lupin looked around, and spotted a slightly oversized blackbird huddled miserably on a power line. It was facing one of the terraced houses a few doors down from Snape’s, watching closely.

Lupin watched the bird for a few moments and it turned its head towards him.

“I don’t think he’s gone far,” Lupin said.

Mandragora looked at him, then his eyes went immediately to the bird.

“Merlin, is that really… bloody hell, he’s got a stealth owl.”

Lupin glared at Mandragora, then glanced at the two werewolves who were conversing nearby.

“Oh, yes, sorry, good point. But… bloody hell. Not authorised, I take it?”

Lupin didn’t respond, but quickly converted his chair so that it looked like a muggle wheelchair and headed towards the house. It was even more run-down than the house that Snape occupied, the basement windows boarded up, the rest broken. There was a narrow walkway down the side. Lupin moved down the side of the building, the others following. Grimmy flattened his ears down and looked reluctant to enter the narrow space, but Harry patted him and he followed, his tail between his legs.

Around the back there was a broken fence surrounding an overgrown garden. The blackbird flew over and sat on the fence, flicking its tail and looking at the broken window that led into the basement. Hoping he was out of sight of any muggles, Lupin manoeuvred his chair down the narrow concrete steps and cast Alohomora on the door.

The basement had not been converted to a flat as Snape’s had, instead it held piles of junk. Old furniture, stinking rubbish, broken bicycles, piles of newspaper.

“Here, Remus, let us look in here. You’ll get injured.”

Harry began to clamber through the junk, calling softly to Sevvy. Lucretia joined him, after noting the practicality of his jeans and transfiguring her full-length skirt into something more practical.

“Come on Wormwood, pull yourself together and help.” She pointed her wand at his robe, and he was also suddenly clad in clothing suitable for searching a filthy basement.

“Will you join us, Director Mandragora?”

The director looked briefly startled, before making a woeful effort to transfigure his robes. He ended up in a blue velvet jacket and trousers, with a ruffled shirt and spotted bow tie. He joined Lupin in moving and vanishing some of the larger pieces of furniture with his wand. Grimmy sniffed the air, then walked into a narrow gap that Lupin and the Director had cleared.

“What is it Grimmy?”

The dog was looking at a small doorway in the wall of the basement. It led to an area which hadn’t been dug out, just dirt and the foundations of the house. Lupin moved himself across and peered into the dark.

“Lumos.”

Lupin lit up the dark space. The dirt floor sloped upwards, creating a narrowing space against the floorboards of the house above. Right at the back, Lupin saw a black shape.

“Sevvy?”

Lupin couldn’t quite believe that he had climbed into such a tight space. It was the kind of place that a terrified child would have chosen to hide, but Lupin was surprised that Snape had managed to get his adult body in there.

“Have you found him?”

Mandragora leaned past Lupin and peered into the murky light.

“How are we going to get him out?”

“I can go, if you like,” Harry said.

Lupin was silent for a moment.

“Thank you Harry. I’m not sure though. I’ve dealt with Sevvy many times, he usually responds better to me.”

“How?” Wormwood asked. “You’re crippled.”

Lupin felt the corner of his mouth twitch but suppressed the smile in response to Wormwood’s tactless words.

“Someone will have to help me. Help levitate me in.”

Wormwood turned immediately to Lucretia, who nodded.

“Sevvy,” Lupin said gently has Lucretia carefully moved him across the dry clay. Every now and again his hip bumped against a piece of foundation or ground.

“Sevvy, it’s okay. It’s me, Remus.”

Snape’s face was buried in his knees. His hair and robe were filthy, covered with dust, soil and cobwebs, and he smelled of urine, as Sevvy so often did when frightened. He gave no response to Lupin’s words and Lupin had no way of knowing if he was hearing anything that was said.

“Sevvy, you remember me, don’t you. I’m Clarridge’s friend. You know, your cousin Clarridge. Who’s got a little dog called Nipper? I’ve got a dog too. He’s called Grimmy. You remember Grimmy, don’t you.”

The only sound from Snape was his breathing, rapid and gasping. Lupin suspected he was trying to be quiet so he wasn’t found, but his breath betrayed him.

“Sevvy? I’m going to put my hand on your arm now. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Lupin reached out his hand and touched Snape’s arm, feeling the way it trembled beneath his fingers.

“There, Sevvy, that’s ok isn’t it. I’m not hurting you?”

Snape didn’t respond, neither flinching from the touch nor answering Lupin’s questions. Lupin began to stroke his arm.

“Come on, Sevvy. You know it’s okay, don’t you? You know you are safe with me.”

Lupin dragged himself closer to Snape, close enough to wrap his arm around the heaving back. He kept talking gently to the frightened man until he felt Snape’s head lean in towards him.

“That’s it, Sevvy. You remember me, don’t you. You know you are safe with me. You remember that, don’t you Sevvy.”

The head nodded into Lupin’s shoulder.

“Good boy, Sevvy. Now do you think you can take some deep breaths for me. Nice and slow, there’s a good boy.”

Lupin felt Snape trying to control his breaths, and slowly the desperate gasps became more deep and even. He kept up the gentle encouragement until Snape relaxed against him, as he had so many times before.

“Good boy, Sevvy. Now, do you think you are ready to come out from under here? It’s not very nice. A bit cobwebby, isn’t it?”

Snape began to tremble harder and shook his head. He murmured something muffled into Lupin’s shoulder.

“What’s that, Sevvy?”

Snape spoke again, a little louder.

“Can’t. I… I… I’m dirty. I’m… sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Sevvy, it’s okay. I know you got scared. Would you like me to do a spell to clean you up? I’ll use my wand. It won’t hurt.”

Snape was still for a moment, and then his head nodded again into Lupin’s shoulder. Lupin reached his hand around for his wand, and cast a cleaning spell over Snape. It took away the worst of the smell, as well as most of the dust and cobwebs, and Snape seemed to relax a bit more at being cleaned up.

“Do you want to come out and see Grimmy now, Sevvy? Harry’s there too. Do you remember Harry?”

Snape nodded again, and Lupin took that as his cue to ask Lucretia to being bring him out.

“Slowly, just a bit at a time. Sevvy’s going to come with me, aren’t you Sevvy?”

As Lupin moved away from him, Snape looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and wide.

“Come on Sevvy. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

Snape began to crawl cautiously towards Lupin as Lucretia brought him out. However he stopped at the door and he wrapped his arms around his legs, refusing to come any further. His eyes peered out through his hair and over his knees as he looked fearfully at the adults who were looking back at him.

“Harry,” Lupin called, softly, “Can you bring Grimmy over please?”

Harry stepped across and passed the leash to Lupin.

“Sevvy, do you want to say hello to Grimmy?”

The dog didn’t hesitate, stepping through the small door and sniffing Snape’s face gently. Snape lifted his hand to pat Grimmy, and willing took the leash handed to him.

Lupin summoned his chair and Harry helped him up.

“Come on, Sevvy,” Lupin said. “Why don’t you bring Grimmy out? He’s getting dusty in there.”

Finally Snape crawled through the low door with Grimmy. He stood up cautiously, clutching Grimmy’s leash in his hand. His eyes were fixed on Lupin, who lifted his wand and widened the chair he sat on.

“Come here, Sevvy,” he said, patting the seat next to him.

Snape stepped over and climbed up next to Lupin. He snuggled close with his head on Lupin’s shoulder and his knees across his lap. Lupin wrapped his arm around Snape again.

“Good boy, Sevvy. Are you okay now? Do you want to say hello to everyone?”

Snape shook his head.

“Come on, Sevvy. They won’t bite, I promise. Now you remember Harry I think. And you have met Lucretia, but I’m not sure if you remember. And this is Wormwood. And then this is Director Mandragora.”

“Hello Sevvy.” Mandragora reached out his hand and Snape cringed away. “I think that I scared you before, didn’t I?”

A wide-eyed Snape stared up at the imposing figure of the Director. Realising part of the problem, he crouched in front of Lupin’s chair, so that he was no longer towering over Snape.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Sevvy. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Snape turned away and buried his face in Lupin’s jacket, whimpering slightly. It was a behaviour that Lupin had seen before, acting more like a much younger child. He patted Snape’s shoulder and looked apologetically at Mandragora.

“Sorry about that sir. He’s nervous of new people.”

“Quite alright Mr Lupin. But what are you going to do?”

“Back to the farmhouse, I think,” Lupin replied with a sigh. “But shall we go back to the flat first?”

They took Snape back to his flat, still sitting beside Lupin with his face buried in Lupin’s shoulder. When they got inside, Snape looked up cautiously and spotted Mephistopheles perched on top of a kitchen cupboard.

“Kitty,” he said in delight and, forgetting his fear, began to try and lure the cat down. Mephistopheles jumped down to the kitchen bench and Snape scooped him up in his arms. He sat on the kitchen floor, cooing softly to the cat and ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Will he be happy to go back to the farmhouse, do you think?” Mandragora asked.

“I think Sevvy will be fine, but when he’s back to himself again, I imagine he will want to come back here. It’s far from ideal though.”

“How long will he stay as Sevvy?” Mandragora looked across at the black-haired man, cross legged on the floor.

“Usually he’s like this until he goes to sleep. He will wake up at the adult again, but usually quite disoriented. He will have memories of his time as Sevvy, but as if they happened a long time ago, when he was a child.”

“I see,” Mandragora replied, looking thoughtful. “If you don’t mind, Mr Lupin, I’d like to accompany you back to the farmhouse. I’d like a word.”

Lupin wondered exactly who the director wanted a word with. Andromeda? He responded in a cool tone.

“Of course. If you are sure that it is necessary.”

Wormwood and Lucretia returned to the Institute, and Harry helped Snape to get the unwilling Mephistopheles into his basket, before they all returned to the farmhouse. Snape remembered Andromeda and Teddy when reminded and went with them, Harry and Grimmy into the kitchen for some food. Mandragora had paid only the briefest of attention to Andromeda, barely enough to avoid rudeness, and waited to speak to Lupin.

“Mr Lupin, I spoke to Mr Fox this morning, regarding Mr Snape’s… history. He offered a unique perspective.”

Lupin gave an encouraging nod. Mandragora looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Mr Fox pointed out that Gertrude would be dead whether or not Mr Snape had been present.”

Lupin cringed. It was probably true, but not something that anyone but Wormwood would have said.

“He’s right, of course. You-know-who wanted her dead, as did Fenrir Greyback. I know from the aurors investigating her death that there were five death eaters involved. I only know that Mr Snape was present because one of the aurors was an uncle of his, and knew what kind of wand he had. They couldn’t identify the others. I’ve focused my hatred on him because I knew who he was, but… well I can’t place full responsibility on him anymore. And he was only eighteen. From what I’ve heard, it surprised nobody that he went to You-know-who. And now…”

Mandragora’s voice faded and he just looked worried.

“I feel a responsibility to him. He’s one of my staff now, and he clearly… needs help.”

Lupin gave a slow nod. It was a startling change in just a few weeks, and Mandragora had not finished.

“As you’ll realise,” he continued, “it has become common of late for some Institute staff to reside there. If Mr Snape wished, I would like to offer for him to do so.”

Lupin felt his mouth open slightly in surprise. It had indeed become rather common for Institute staff to live on site, but that was because there were a number of adult werewolves resident there, and the Institute’s director granted them the dignity of calling them staff, whatever they were actually capable of. It was quite another thing for him to offer to house the former death eater.

“I… that’s an incredibly generous offer, Director Mandragora. I can’t speak for Severus, but I certainly appreciate your concern and the offer. It is possible he may find it difficult to accept, but… I think it would be a good thing for him. He’s lived most of his life in institutions, and from what he has said, I think he would be much happier there than at that horrible flat.”

“It is rather dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Revolting. But then the whole block is condemned. The only residents are squatters like himself.”

“Will you talk to him Mr Lupin? He may need to be convinced after I… our conversation yesterday. If it helps, Mr Fox would be quite delighted to have him there.”

“I’ll talk to him sir, or maybe ask Andromeda. He’ll listen to her, I think.”

“As he should, Mr Lupin, as he should.”

Loose ends chapter 32 - Outmanoevred

Snape is refusing to bathe and Lupin gives him the job of teaching Draco Malfoy’s cousin. Slight angst. PG.

This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling (apart from references to Dr Seuss) and I make no claim or profit etc

Outmanoeuvred
In the end, it took very little effort to convince Snape to move to the Institute. Sevvy had been exhausted, and it had taken only a few minutes of Fox in Socks for him to fall asleep against Lupin’s shoulder. When Snape had awoken, he’d been distraught that he’d caused so much trouble, and clearly wanted to accept the offer – couched as a firm recommendation by Andromeda – of accommodation at the Institute.

His one question was whether Mephistopheles, with his taste for fire flovs, would be welcome. He made it quite clear that he was going nowhere without his cat. He paced anxiously until they had sent Athene with a note to check, and retreated to Lupin’s room with Mephistopheles – slamming the door in Lupin’s face – to await the response.

Mandragora’s reply was, in Lupin’s opinion, remarkably polite. He simply reminded Snape that the Institute’s entire existence revolved around caring for magical creatures of every kind, and that he was quite certain that there would be a way to ensure the safety of both the fire flovs and Mephistopheles. He very charitably didn’t find it necessary to mention that he and the Insitute staff had managed to keep, among other things, more than sixty dragons, eight hippogriffs, three cockatrices, a breeding pair of manticores and a Mongolian death worm, not to mention the thirty werewolves which transformed there every month, from killing eachother and their keepers for many years, and were unlikely to be troubled by a cat.

Mephistopheles settled in to the Institute rather more quickly than Snape. He was given the run of the wolf garden when Snape was in the lab, and was soon convincing the werewolf children to bring him treats. After a few brief attempts to get to the fire flovs, he discovered that there were better pickings in the kitchens and staff dining hall.

Snape, on the other hand, refused to go anywhere except the potions lab and his room. Since his room was just down the corridor from the lab, he never left the basement, and most of the Institute staff doubted his existence. Concerned at his apparent reluctance to either eat or wash, Blossom appointed herself as Snape’s personal house elf, and stood in his room making sarcastic comments until he ate his meals and handed over his dirty clothes for the laundry. She filled the bath in his small bathroom, but learned Snape’s limits quickly enough and realised another strategy was required.

“Sir is needing to talk to Mr Professor.”

“What about, Blossom?” Lupin replied distractedly, as he continued to try and get Ethelred Malfoy to hold his wand correctly. While he’d inherited his name and appearance from his pureblooded father – Lucius Malfoy’s younger brother – he’d grown up mostly as a muggle like his mother and had never held a wand before Lupin began teaching him.

Blossom cleared her throat slightly.

“Mr Professor is starting to smell. Mr Professor is not taking a bath even if Blossom is getting it ready.”

“He doesn’t like baths much, Blossom, he usually just uses cleaning spells.”

“Well, Mr Professor is not using spells either. Mr Remus needs to be talking to him.”

Lupin sighed.

“It might be better if Andromeda talks to him. I don’t think he will listen to me.”

“Of course he will. Mr Professor always listens to Mr Remus.”

Lupin looked across at the determined elf. Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pressed together tightly.

“Mr Professor is pretending he is not listening to Mr Remus. But Mr Professor would be wearing a dress and a vulture-topped hat and carrying a red handbag if Mr Remus asked him nicely.”

The elf’s beady eyes looked innocently at Lupin, as if she’d just commented on the weather. The little elf had an alarming thirst for knowledge and had clearly made the surly potions master her latest research project. He continued watching her, seeing something in her expression that he couldn’t quite place.

“Alright Blossom. I’ll have a word. Red, would you like to come with me? You know Severus, Mr Snape, is your cousin’s godfather?”

Red sneered a very Malfoy sneer and replied angrily.

“Would this be a cousin from the family that had my parents and sisters killed and was content to see my brother and me… and let Greyback…“

The boy’s voice faltered and he continued in a weak tone.

“The family who left us to Greyback?”

Lupin put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He had perhaps been unwise to mention the boy’s family. Red’s brother hadn’t survived the brutality of the pack and, thanks to his pureblood relatives and Greyback, he was alone in the world at fourteen.

“Yes, those relatives. But Severus is a good man. He was on the right side, Red.”

Red followed Lupin somewhat unwillingly to Snape’s basement room.

“Severus, are you there?”

“No, go away.”

Lupin unlocked the door and let himself in, wrinkling his nose. Blossom had been correct. The room smelled like a man who hadn’t washed in some time. He asked Red to stand outside and pointed his wand at the window, opening it to let in some fresh air.

“Severus, if you won’t take a bath, at least use cleaning spells.”

Snape looked down and mumbled, something in his face triggering Lupin’s concern.

“Severus?”

Lupin moved across and put a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Severus? What’s the matter?”

“I can’t remember how. I thought I’d learned them but…”

Snape’s voice faded away and a blush crept up his neck.

“Oh, Severus. If you need help, you just need to ask.”

Lupin quickly cast a few spells.

“I’ll show them to you again a bit later, but right now there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

He called the boy in before Snape could object.

“Severus, this is Ethelred Malfoy – he’s–.”

“Red,” the boy interrupted.

“Red,” Lupin repeated. “He’s usually known as Red. A name like Ethelred doesn’t go down well in Milton Keynes. He’s Claudius Malfoy’s boy.”

Snape looked curiously at the boy. He remembered Claudius Malfoy of course, even if was best to pretend to Lucius that he’d never existed. It had been shock to the family when their younger boy been sorted into Hufflepuff, but that was nothing to the horrible scandal when he’d married the non-magical sister of a muggleborn classmate.

The boy looked just like Draco at that age. His face was softer and less pointy, almost pretty, but he had the same hair, the same pale eyes, the same haughty expression. In Draco, though, the expression had revealed the boy’s inflated sense of entitlement. In this child, this werewolf, Snape reminded himself, it surely masked something quite different. He’d lost his entire family, and Snape knew enough about life in Greyback’s pack to know the boy would not have been treated well.

“Hello, Red.”

He put out his hand and Red just glared at him. Somehow, it made him warm to the boy.

“Red, this is Mr Snape. He’s a friend of mine. We were at school together, and we were even teachers together for a year.”

The werewolf appeared oblivious to the fact that he was being scowled at by both man and boy, and continued in a cheery tone.

“Red and I have been working on some basic wand skills, haven’t we? Red’s found it rather a challenge, he grew up doing everything the muggle way. Do you want to show Mr Snape, Red? He’s a far more experienced teacher than me.”

Red looked cross, but dutifully took the old wand that Lupin handed him. He picked it up as if it would bite him.

“Just show him Lumos. He will get the general idea.”

Red gripped the wand as if he wanted to crush it, gave it a sharp flick and muttered Lumos between clenched teeth. A ball of light formed at the tip of his wand, then shot away, burning a black spot on Snape’s wall.

“Whoops, sorry, Severus. You see, power’s not the issue, it’s more about control.”

“Yes, I see the problem,” Snape said slowly, thinking about the younger werewolf’s wandwork and not paying enough attention to the older werewolf.

“Oh, yes, I did think you would, Severus,” Lupin replied, sounding so pleased with himself that Snape was suddenly suspicious. “I’ve been giving Red lessons when I can, but he really needs more regular practice. It would be marvellous if you could spend some time helping.”

Snape felt a constriction in his chest as he realised Lupin’s intention.

“What do you think, Severus? You aren’t helping Wormwood in the afternoons, are you? How about Red drops by here about one thirty tomorrow, after lunch, and you help him with his practice?”

“Lupin, that’s… I…”

He gaped at Lupin for a moment, struggling for an excuse, and then he saw an escape route. His eyes flicked pointedly to the blonde boy beside him.

“Red, please give us a moment,” Lupin said, and the boy slipped out of the room.

“Lupin,” Snape hissed. “That’s extremely inappropriate. Having a boy visit a man in his bedroom, especially one who… who’s…”

Lupin looked wide-eyed, as if it hadn’t crossed his mind that Snape was a former death eater and crooked, something Snape considered Not Bloody Likely. The werewolf then gave a smile that was far to bright to bring good news for Snape.

“Of course, Severus, you’re quite right. The children generally spend the afternoon in the wolf garden if it’s fine. You can meet him there. If it’s raining, they use the changing room – that’s the large room off the wolf garden. It’s got plenty of space and not too much furniture to trip over. So if the weather’s no good, you can meet there instead.”

Lupin called Red back into the room and announced his plan before Snape could conjure any further objections.

It wasn’t until Snape reluctantly met Red for his lesson the next day that he realised just how thoroughly outmanouevred he had been, yet again, by Remus bloody Lupin. The six werewolf children that Lupin specifically hadn’t asked him to teach had surrounded him and Red as they practiced. The eldest girl held back, not much impressed with the novelty. She was familiar, and her age suggested she could have attended Hogwarts before the war reached its peak. The other children, however, were fascinated to watch someone teach magic. They all wanted to hold the wand, even the three muggle children, for whom it was simply a pretty stick.

One of the other children, a girl a bit younger than Red who introduced herself as Lucy, decided to show off her basic wand skills, which were indeed very basic. Between Lucy and Red, they knew no more than Lumos, Nox, Spongify and a very wobbly Wingardium Leviosa.

“I thought Lupin has been teaching you? What in Merlin’s name has he been doing?”

“He did teach them quite a bit more than that.”

The older girl finally spoke, standing back from the others, with her arms folded.

“He taught them most of the first year charms and spells, some basic herbology, and some decent defence stuff. He was teaching me duelling, even. But he only ever came once or twice a week, and he kept getting tired out. And he’s been here much less since last September.”

Her tone was accusing, as if she knew the reason that Lupin had stopped coming to teach them.

“If you think he’s done such a crap job, you could teach us. You used to be a teacher. You taught me at Hogwarts.”

So he had taught her. But no name came to him. She just stood there, lips thin, eyes defiant. Then she spoke again, in that sharp tone that encouraged no contradiction.

“We help with the creatures in the morning and again in the late afternoon. But we are free with nothing much to do from nine thirty until three, apart from lunch at noon. If you don’t have any textbooks to work from, I can ask my Uncle Hubert. He might have some old ones, he gave us the wand. We can start tomorrow at ten. The dining hall would be best, it has tables and chairs. We will see you then, Mr Snape.”

“I… I help Wormwood with potions preparation. I’m usually busy until at least ten or eleven.”

“Fine, then, eleven it is. And we would love to learn about potion making. Mr Fox is so brilliant, but he never has any time.”

The girl gave him a triumphant smile, and Snape sighed, finally realising that he’d been consummately trapped.