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The Great Snape-Deveroux Grudge Match - Part II: Watcher and Hunter by Pigwidgeon [Reviews - 2]

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There were a few moments' hesitation and the sound of something heavy being pushed across the floor, before Dumbledore finally called, "Yes, yes, come in."

Aurellia swung the door wide, strode in purposefully and planted herself in a chair in front of the headmaster's great wooden desk.

"This room is more cluttered than ever, and could stand a good cleaning," the elf observed, looking all around for the heavy object that she had heard being pushed around.

"Yes, well, wait until you have to find a way to store a hundred and fifty years of memories and other assorted accumulations, and then we'll see." Dumbledore retorted mildly with a knowing grin that elderly folk so often wear when talking to youths. "So, what can I do for you, Miss Deveroux? Have you come to complain to me about Professor Snape again? I thought you two were getting along now, more or less."

"Well, yes. And no." Aurellia answered, trying to think of a nice way to tell off Dumbledore for not warning her about a few things. Drawing a blank on polite and diplomatic, she finally settled on her usual: blunt and direct.

"Dumbledore, why didn't you tell me about Transylvania's Finest?" she demanded.

"Finally figured it out, did you?" said the headmaster, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"As a matter of fact, I didn't." Aurellia stated. "He told me. Right after looking at me like a nice, juicy, hippogriff flank steak."

"Now, don't be too angry with him. He can't help what he is," Dumbledore chided gently. "And I didn't tell you about him for the same reason I didn't tell him about you. I keep my promises, my dear, sometimes even against my better judgment."

"Someday, you're going to regret playing your cards too close to the vest," Aurellia chastised.

"I've never heard that one before," Dumbledore remarked, "But I think I understand."

"You've been relatively lucky so far, Dumbledore, but someday your luck will run out."

"Then I'll deal with it when it happens. How do Muggles say it? I'll cross that street when it comes up."

Aurellia tried very hard not to grin, but didn't quite succeed. "Close enough," she said tersely. "So tell me something else," she added after a minute, looking around the room again as she did so.

"Yes?" the elder wizard prodded.

"Were you spying on us again tonight?"

Dumbledore looked as if he were about to answer evasively for a moment, and then he capitulated. "Yes," he reluctantly admitted, showing her the scrying pool he had slid across the floor and hidden behind his desk. "This is how I watch what's going on inside Hogwarts as much as possible. This is how I was watching when the duel broke out. And this is how I can keep an eye on Snape, and Harry, and the Weasley twins, and the worst of the Slytherins..."

"Does Snape know you've been spying on him like this?" Aurellia asked, outraged at Dumbledore's lack of respect for privacy.

"Actually, yes. He's known for years. And before you get all offended about it, he asked me to, especially at night when ...."

"He starts thinking about a little midnight snack?" Aurellia finished waspishly. "With all due respect, headmaster, don't you think it's a little insane and a lot dangerous letting a vampire teach your students?"

"Now, calm down, Aurellia. Remember that Severus is not a full-blooded vampire. He is also half-human. He is quite harmless in the daytime, and at night he keeps to himself when he's not out hunting. He's very responsible and controls himself admirably. I would not let him stay here otherwise. And he requested that I keep an eye on him as an added precaution, because he doesn't really want to cause anyone harm. And yes, I know how he likes to scare the students into submission, but that's all just a front."

Aurellia rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe I am having this discussion. When I was at the university, some of my friends used to joke about their dates being vampires. I never dreamed that I'd actually meet a real one ... and live to tell about it. Drat! Come to think of it I can't tell anyone else about about it, can I? This is another one of those highly classified well-kept Hogwarts secrets isn't it?"

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Well, yes and no. Madam Pomfrey knows, of course, because she has access to the medical records of the entire faculty and student body. McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick know because they've known Severus for many years, and they're not stupid. They figured it out a long time ago. Hagrid knows because he has to keep the school grounds well-stocked with ... errrr, midnight snacks. Filch knows because, well, there isn't a single inch of this castle that he doesn't know about, including Snape's personal space. As for the students and the other professors, it's possible that they may suspect...but no one has ever said anything to me about it, so I don't know."

"My mom--my adoptive mom, that is--would be having a coronary right now if she knew about this. She might not care who my friends are most of the time, but I think even she would have a thing or two to say about Mister Fangs," Aurellia remarked drily. "So Snape was out hunting and feeding or whatever it is he does, not meeting with his Death Eater contacts every night, I take it?"

"Usually the former, occasionally the latter," Dumbledore admitted. "Until recently, that is. After that incident with Malfoy, I highly doubt he will be meeting with them anymore. And I must say that I am not the least bit displeased. He was putting himself into too much danger and not getting much information in return. I knew that he was bound to fall out of favor with them sooner or later unless he turned. But once you started Watching, I did not worry so much about his resolve. The only question then was when and whether or not he would survive it when his cover was blown. I'm glad he was here on the school grounds when it happened."

"Albus..." Aurellia said quietly. "Now that Voldemort knows he's on our side, do you really think that we can protect him here?"

The aging headmaster sighed. "I don't know, Aurellia. I wish that I could say yes, but I truly do not know. I can only say that he is safer here than out there, that Voldemort will have to work harder to get at him here than anywhere else. And I am hoping that Voldemort will be too busy doing other things right now to bother with avenging himself on one rogue Death Eater."

"Are any of us truly safe here?" Aurellia wondered, thinking of Trelawney's ominous prediction about Hogwarts and of hiding herself inside a tree at Fedhamosi's warning.

"There are never any guarantees, Miss Deveroux," the headmaster mused softly, "Life is uncertain, and even the Fidelius Charm has been known to fail on occasion," he observed regretfully. "We can only try our best to guide and guard each other, and to take the disappointments and tragedies in stride," he observed, and it seemed to Aurellia that his eyes went a little out of focus and shimmered with a thousand remembered tears and regrets.

"You have regrets about the way Severus has turned out, don't you?" Aurellia guessed after a few moments of silence had passed. "I remember what you said to me that night after the duel about how you tried to be a mentor to him when he came to Hogwarts. I remember the look in your eyes. You wanted to help him...but you didn't know how. You never could quite connect with him no matter how hard you tried to get him to talk, to trust you. And you always wondered whether it was because he was irreparably flawed or because you had failed him. Because even though you are wise, you make mistakes sometimes, and they never stop grieving you."

Dumbledore stared at the elf for a few moments in surprise. "You are very perceptive, Aurellia Deveroux. I think that even I may have underestimated you. You have grown a great deal since you left the world of Muggles and came to this castle so many months ago. I wonder what remarkable observations you will be making when you are my age?"

Aurellia was thinking hard as the headmaster said this, and when he paused she aired her thoughts aloud. "He said that you had done this once before. What did he mean by that, headmaster? What did you do that filled him with bitterness and you with regret?"

Dumbledore sighed and slipped off his glasses. He rubbed both hands alongside the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "He expected for me to be perfect, I think. And he was bitterly disappointed when he discovered that I wasn't. He cannot forgive me for disappointing him. He is as hard on me as he is on himself and his students."

"But what did you do, specifically, that was so terrible? Or was he merely being overly critical?"

"I am forced to confess I made a grave mistake. I encouraged something that was never meant to be. And I could not prevent it from coming to a bad end."

"And then she left... and found someone else who had more to offer. And then she died," Aurellia whispered, remembering Snape's words from the day she had given him the owl. "What was her name, Albus? Who was she?"

"Her name was Lily Evans, and she was a very talented witch in the same year as Severus, Remus, Sirius Black, and James Potter."

Lily Evans, Aurellia thought. She had heard that name somewhere before....

"I remember a night some eighteen years ago when Severus was sitting across from my desk much in the same fashion as you are this evening, except that he was wearing a much surlier expression, and I a much angrier one. Sirius and James had come in earlier that evening to speak to me about certain Potions which Severus had been making and using without Professor Trank's knowledge or permission."

"Oh!" Aurellia exclaimed, "Yes, I remember Remus telling me about this. He said that a certain ugly duckling had to resort to bullying the other goslings in order to get any of them to go to the dances with him. And that when the enchantments wore off he would always find himself paddling around the pond by himself."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, that is an amusing way of putting it, but in truth what Severus did in those days was not quite so entertaining for himself or his victims. When Professor Trank and I threatened to expel him for getting into fist-fights, he switched to using hexes and curses. When we got onto him about the hexes and curses, he switched to Potions. And when we cracked down on the Potions, he switched to tattling and spreading rumors. He was always trying to get revenge on somebody, while staying one step ahead of me."

"Sounds a lot like Draco Malfoy. Clever enough to keep changing tactics and slippery enough not get caught twice for the same thing."

Dumbledore considered this quietly for a moment. "No," he said finally. "I don't think so. The methods may be similar but the motives are different. I fear that Draco is already a lost cause. But I don't believe that it is too late for Severus. I hope that I am wrong on the first count and right on the second. I have been pleasantly surprised before."

"So what happened that night eighteen years ago when you were reprimanding Snape for using Potions to get dates?"

The headmaster sighed. "I told him that he would have more success in the game of life if he would quit cheating and play fair once in a while. I told him that he would be happier, and he would find a lasting relationship if he quit using force and tried being nice. I told him he needed to learn to compromise and stop insisting on having things his way all the time."

"What did he say to that? Knowing him, I'll bet he rolled his eyes and totally ignored you."

"No. He was listening that night because he argued with me. He said that you don't get far by playing fair because life isn't fair. And then..." Dumbledore stopped, looked sad for a moment, then continued heavily, "He said that he knew it wasn't real, that they would only like him as long as they were blind, as long as the spell lasted, but that it was the best he could hope for. Because of what he was.

"And I told him that was not true. I said, what about Lily Evans? Because you see, I had noticed that she had her eye on him. She was like Hermione Granger, always championing the underdog. And I think she felt sorry for Severus."

"So you encouraged both of them...just like you are doing now. What went wrong?"

"I misjudged her. Sympathy is not love. And love may or may not grow out of sympathy. In her case, it never did."

"Sympathy will dry up over time if there is no hope of change, like a stream with no rain to feed it. And what can grow out of dry, barren rock? Maybe you were right about her and wrong about him."

"And maybe it simply wasn't meant to be. Miss Deveroux...Aurellia, please don't be angry with me. I promised him, and I made the others who knew promise likewise not to tell anyone what he is."

"You know, Albus, maybe too many people made too many promises not to talk about what was wrong."

"Do you wish to quit Watching?"

Aurellia sighed and stared off into space for several long minutes. She thought about Snape pounding his fists against the wall in frustration, the anguish in his voice.

"I am always a dhampire, and it is not something I can control or charm away! Throughout all the ages of history, no one has ever invented a potion that can take the place of what I have to do when I can't stand the craving any longer!"

"No," she decided. "A few weeks ago I would have said yes without a second thought. In fact, several times I almost came to you and begged to be released from the Vow. But now that you're asking me, now that it has come down to it, I find that I have more sympathy for him than before. I wish you had told me these things sooner, because I would have been more understanding. I...."

"He hates pity," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully. "Perhaps that is why..." he paused. "I disagree, Aurellia. It is better that he told you himself. If I had told you, I would have broken his trust, and you would never have been able to reach him."

"Perhaps," Deveroux agreed reluctantly. "Well, regardless, I guess there's no use wishing now, is there? It's not like we can go back into the past and change things, can we?"

"No, not really," Dumbledore said with a small twinkle. "Not legally, anyway. And, even if you tried, you could very well make things worse."

"I suppose," Deveroux said, suddenly tired. She stifled a yawn and stood up. "Well, I am getting a little tired and I've had a more exciting day than I had counted on."

"I'm sure you have," Dumbledore said. "Goodnight then, Aurellia. Sleep well, and don't worry. Things always work out in the end." She started to turn and leave, but paused. She stuck a hand in her robe pocket. "Oh yes, almost forgot about these. Here," the Defense teacher said as she placed the two flies and two spheres on the headmaster's desk. “So you can continue practicing.”

"Ahh yes, and how did that go?" Dumbledore said.

"He was, shall we say, preoccupied by the thought of having a midnight snack," Aurellia said tartly. "But all things considering, it went about as well as I expected."

****


By the next night Aurellia had gotten over the shock of the dhampire revelation, and she was beginning to feel badly about having intruded a little more deeply than she was welcome into Snape's personal matters. At dinner she looked for him, hoping for a chance to apologize, but he did not turn up. She asked Dumbledore if he thought that Snape might be mad at her, and the elder wizard stroked his beard and suggested that she go back to the dungeons and find out. He also promised that he would be watching over her in his scrying pool and would find a way to intervene if anything went wrong. Aurellia got the distinct impression that he had made that promise just to humor her and to reassure her, but she decided to accept it at face value and to say nothing more about her concerns.

So it was about an hour later that Aurellia went and knocked quietly on Snape's office door. There was no response, and when she tried the doorknob she found that it was locked. He must be out hunting or something she decided, debating whether to stay or leave. She sat down on the floor, leaned against the wall, and waited for Snape to come back. After about fifteen minutes or so of waiting she began to think about leaving, when presently she heard activity inside the office. Quickly she sprang to her feet and knocked again.

"Go away, Filch," came the testy reply. "I'm not in the mood to listen to your griping tonight."

"It's me, Snape," Aurellia announced quietly. "Can we talk? Is it okay if I come in?"

There was no reply for a few moments, and then she finally heard a resigned snort followed by a terse, "Oh, very well. You may come in, but not now. In a few minutes."

She waited a few minutes. And a few more minutes. And yet a few more minutes. It seemed to her that Snape was always taking his good old sweet annoying time to do things like open doors and answer questions wherever she was concerned. "Geez, Snape, what are you doing in there, skinning a goblin?" she hollered impatiently.

"No," came the acid reply. "I detest goblins. I can't charm them, and they fight back even more viciously than you do."

A few more minutes passed, and then finally the door clicked and Snape invited her in. Aurellia hesitantly stepped into the Potions master's office and looked toward the desk, Snape's usual spot. But the Potions master was not there tonight. Was he, perhaps, in his private lab again?

It was more bitterly cold in the office than usual this February night, and her breath rose in a thin cloud of steam from her nose. Aurellia wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, cursing the fact that she had forgotten to bring her outdoor cloak. Snape seemed to be terminally allergic to fireplaces and anything remotely resembling a normal room temperature.

I cannot believe I am doing this, she thought to herself. I used to think that the streets of London were dangerous after dark. Here I am alone at night in the heart of a vampire's lair. I must be nuts.

"I'm in the lab," Snape called from the far left corner. "Come if you wish, but do not go past the last stair."

As I thought. Aurellia walked over towards the back of the room to the left of Snape's desk and went through the plain black door, grimacing at the feel of the ever-present spiderwebs that were draped across the doorframe.

Aurellia started a strong spell of protection in her head as she descended the staircase. She was not sure at this point whether or not she could trust Snape despite Dumbledore's reassurances. Last night's encounter had shaken her badly. Sure, she could defend herself if she had some warning that she was about to be attacked, and if her attacker wasn't using a wand. But there was no telling what Snape might be doing at the bottom of those stairs. What if that dhampire was only luring her in here to make a meal out of her? He hadn't shown up at dinner after all.

Plucking up her courage, Aurellia went to the third from last step, far enough that she could just see into the room. Dumbledore, she thought with a shiver, I sincerely hope you are watching out for me because otherwise I think I am about to become vampire...dhampire kibble.

If Snape heard her approach he did not acknowledge it. He was busy working on some project, the purpose of which she could not and did not want to guess at. A forest of beakers, bottles, burners, flasks, and magical devices which she knew no name for, covered the top of the lab table in a chaotic clutter of glass and steel and liquid and brass. A fire on the far wall was blazing hotly in the fireplace and over it a cauldron was simmering in the flames. It was considerably warmer in here than in the office upstairs, and Snape's hair was hanging over his face in sweaty strands. His sleeves were pushed back and he was currently filling several syringes with a sanguine liquid.

"Dr. Jekyll, I presume," Aurellia said drily, trying very hard not to let Snape's mysterious, frenzied activity creep her out any more than she was already creeped out.

Snape looked up, grinned viciously, showing his teeth. "Edward Hyde," he replied, "At least for another moment or two."

"Oh! You know the story then," Aurellia exclaimed as Snape took one of the syringes, snapped a fingernail against it several times, then stuck the needle into one of his bare arms and pushed the plunger.

Snape gritted his teeth, tossed the empty syringe onto the table, and brushed the hair out of his face. "Yes, of course. It is a very famous story based on a real wizard. My mother used to read it to me when I was little, before she went to St. Mungos."

Aurellia drew a hand to her lips in horror. What kind of a mother would read a story like that to a little boy? Then again, the fact that she had gone to St. Mungos pretty much said it all. "I always assumed that the story was just an allegory," she declared.

"No," Snape replied. "It is based on a true story. His name was Hydnen Jekrelle, and he was a master of Potions and ... questionable arts, like me. But unlike me he became obsessed with his craft, and it eventually drove him mad. His brilliance and his ambition were his downfall. He began testing things on himself until one day he went too far and poisoned himself. A tragedy, to be sure. He might have made great contributions to his field if only he had been more prudent."

"That's so sad," Aurellia said quietly. "I think I liked that story better when I believed it to be only an allegory. So...if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing down here? Looking for a way to contain Mr. Hyde?"

"You might say that. I am...stalling. I'm out of stock, and I need to hunt. Badly. But Madam Pomfrey needed another batch of Recurare and I cannot leave it unattended. I decided since I was already stuck here for a while, I would make a batch of sangui fictosa while I was at it. Besides, I don't really want to go out there tonight. It's bitter cold, and I'm tired."

"I thought you didn't mind the cold. It's always freezing down here."

Snape sniffed irritably. "This time of year it is even too cold for me out there."

"How long have you...?" Aurellia asked nervously.

"How long have I been down here working? Since about four this afternoon. How long until that shot wears off?" He shrugged. "Forty minutes, perhaps an hour. Almost takes longer to make sangui fictosa than it is worth."

"It must be miserable being you sometimes," Aurellia remarked sympathetically.

Snape shrugged again. "It is not always so bad," he said indifferently. He began filling slender glass vials with the remainder of the sangui fictosa, and as each vial was filled, he put a cork in it and slid it into a rack. "December through February are the worst months for me because that is when it is most difficult to find game in spite of Hagrid's efforts to help. Hagrid rarely seems to have much success with his traps, and I often wonder if it is merely bad luck, or if he feels sorry for the creatures he catches and frees them."

Aurellia chuckled softly. "Knowing Hagrid, it is very likely the latter. I'll bet that he sets the traps with the genuine intention of helping you, but then when he comes across some helpless wounded animal in one of them he's so tender-hearted that he can't bear not to let it go."

Snape tsked with irritation. "He would not survive long if he were half-vampire instead of half-giant. As it is, he is not much help. I do not mind so much being cold and tired when I come in from a successful hunt. But I think that tonight is going to be another one of those nights where I waste many hours looking for prey, and come back hungry and unsatisfied and exhausted. I hate blizzards."

"I take it you had one of those nights last night?"

Snape sighed with irritation and said reluctantly. "Yes. Last night after you left I went out and wasted about five hours. I gave up, came back, and...and by the way, not everything in the jars on my shelves is intended for my work and my classes. You will notice the considerable empty space on my shelves waiting for the arrival of the next delivery carriage...whenever that is. With this miserable weather, and the Death Eater raids -- excuse me, I mean occasional mischief caused by teenage hoodlums pretending to be Death Eaters -- it could be days or weeks before that happens. I hope I have better luck out there tonight. Otherwise I think that one of the owls in the owlery is going to mysteriously disappear."

Aurellia made a face. "Let me guess. This is another one of those things you and Dumbledore don't talk about?"

"No more than necessary."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since the day I came to Hogwarts. Longer than that, actually."

"I'm not talking about you trying to hide the fact that you are half-vampire. I mean how long since ... um ... since you last had a successful hunt?"

Snape looked away. "Three nights."

Aurellia stared in amazement. "I thought...er...I read that vampires have to feed every night!"

"I usually do. But even skilled predators have dry spells. This winter has been exceptionally bad, however. The weather has been exceedingly harsh and even I do not dare roam as far from the grounds as I used to. I know that there are Death Eaters somewhere out there waiting for me, now that they no longer trust me. I am at the same time hunter and hunted. However, I have not been a very good hunter lately. That is why I never should have let you come into my office, much less get so close last night. I am not totally...in control when I am hungry."

"Okay, so that explains why Venator hasn't been up there in his cage the last couple of nights." Aurellia shivered. No wonder Snape very often did not feel like having visitors in his dungeons after dark! A question occurred to her then, but she decided not to ask it. Was the Potions master one of the reasons for the strict rules forbidding Hogwarts students to wander the halls at night? Or was the curfew merely a means for keeping the students out of mischief? More likely the latter, she decided. Dumbledore had said that he would not have allowed Snape to stay if he did not trust him.

Aurellia decided to ask a different question instead. "So... you were not in the Great Hall at dinner tonight because you were afraid to be around the others?"

"You might say that I...prefer to be left alone when I am like this. But I was also not there tonight because I needed to start early in order to have Madam Pomfrey's Recurare potion and the sangui fictosa done by the time you came down here."

"You knew that I was coming tonight?" Aurellia asked incredulously.

"No, I did not know. I...guessed correctly."

"So, are you safe to be around until that shot wears off?"

"Yes, and no. Sangui fictosa is not as useful as I wish it were for...deadening the urge. It is a poor substitute for the real thing. You will be safe enough if you stay where you are and do not come any closer. Do you understand me? I will let you know when it is time for you to leave, and for me to go outside. And you must promise me that you will listen to me this time and go when I tell you to."

"Yes," Aurellia said nodding. "Of course. I promise. I'm sorry, Snape. You were right last night. I didn't understand. I didn't mean to torment you."

"I know," he said quietly. "And I should have told you all of this sooner. Last night was a close call. I almost waited too long. It is a hard thing to tell people that you are half-monster. I suppose if you ask Lupin he will agree with me, at least on some level. Although he has always been a little more open with the people he trusts about the fact that he's a werewolf.

"And Aurellia, you must understand. If you want to be friends, then you must accept my rules. When I want to be alone, you must leave me alone. No stalling and no questions. And do not touch me unless I give you permission. I know that this is hard for you to accept, but you must understand that there are limits to my restraint."

"Yes," Aurellia replied, "I understand. You or Dumbledore should have told me about this sooner, but now that you have, I will abide by your wishes. Oh, and there's something else I wanted to tell you. That day when I wanted to call off the grudge match and you got all offended and wouldn't shake hands ... I understand now what I said wrong. Sorry about that."

Snape waved it off. "Ancient history. I did not know at the time whether or not you knew my secret, and I thought that you might be underhandedly insulting me. I know better now. You are more blunt and forthright than that."

"Gee, thanks. I think," Aurellia said sardonically. "So tell me something. Do you always go out and hunt every night? Even when you're having more success than you've had the last couple of nights?"

"Not always. Sometimes I get lucky and I catch something that can be...er...made to last several days. And occasionally Filch or Hagrid bring me a little surprise now and then. But believe me, there are many nights like tonight when I must go out, and I would rather not."

"May I watch tonight? If I keep my distance?"

Snape glared at her. "No! Absolutely not! No watching when I am hunting! Ever. I mean it. Consider that one of the rules. Break it, and I will not speak to you again."

Aurellia recoiled a bit at the intensity of his response. "All right, Snape, you don't have to turn into a fire-breathing Hungarian Horntail on me! Although I can't understand why you're so testy about it. Remus didn't care a fig whether or not I looked in on him while he was sleeping in his room in wolf form."

"Let me just say that I am not Remus, and I mind very much, and leave it at that."

"Why do you...." Aurellia stopped at the look on Snape's face and decided to ask a different question. "Why do you dislike Remus so much?" she asked instead.

"Ah, it is a very long story," Snape replied a little more calmly this time, now that Aurellia had decided to back off from what was obviously a very touchy subject. "But I will try to summarize it quickly. When I was a student here, there used to be a group of students my age who called themselves the Marauders. Remus Lupin was one of them. Another member, Padfoot, the intended recipient of my letter, which you ... ahem ... figured out how to read without breaking the seal, was Sirius Black, the famous fugitive, who is now working for us in the struggle against Voldemort. The other two members were James Potter, Harry's father, and Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, whom you already know about. I was mortal enemies with the 'Marauders' and I was always spying on them, looking for ways to get them into trouble. They, like Potter, Granger, Weasley, and you had this extremely irritating habit of continually breaking school rules and doing whatever they pleased. And I did not like it one bit.

"Most of their adventures were completely harmless, as it turned out, but there was one night when they played a nasty little prank on me that very nearly cost me my life. They told me how to get past the Whomping Willow, but they did not bother to tell me that the tunnel the willow was guarding led straight to a werewolf's den. Remus' den."

Aurellia gasped, outraged. "Oh that turkey! That scoundrel! He never told me that! He said he couldn't imagine why you would have any sort of grudge against him. Oh, he is going to hear about this, that jerk!"

Snape grinned nastily at the thought of Aurellia lecturing Lupin the way she delighted in lecturing him, and then continued. "And they picked a fine time to pull this prank too. There was a full moon that night, and if James Potter had not changed his mind and shown up and pulled me out of there, I would almost certainly have been a nice little werewolf snack. This was in the days before wolfsbane, you see, and before I had the power to fend off a fully transformed and ravenous werewolf."

Aurellia shuddered. "That's horrible! I don't care how much you kids hated each other; there was no excuse for that!"

"Well, in all fairness to Remus, I do not think that he knew about the others' plans for me," Snape admitted. "But I doubt that he could say with a clear conscience that he would have tried to put a stop to it if he had known."

"So if James Potter saved your life that night, then why are you so hateful toward Harry?" Aurellia asked.

Snape clammed up and looked away. "Another story for another time, perhaps. It is time for you to leave, and for me to quit stalling."

Aurellia gave the Potions master a suspicious look, thinking that his timing was suspiciously convenient. But she had promised to leave when he said so, and besides, the questions about Harry and James Potter could wait for another night. "All right, Snape, have it your way. Goodnight."

End of Chapter 27

The Great Snape-Deveroux Grudge Match - Part II: Watcher and Hunter by Pigwidgeon [Reviews - 2]

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