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Growling, intense and deep. Dark eyes shine in the moonlight from the cracks in the shack as he- it, that’s not a person anymore, creeps closer. His heart hammered against his ribcage, a thunderous beat that reverberated through his body, matching the rhythm of his escalating terror. His back hits a hard surface as the body of that thing shifts and moves as if on a string. He grew unnaturally still, the color draining from his complexion before he turned and began to scratch at the walls until his nails tore and his fingers bled and the thing stalked ever closer. He pushed himself away from the wall, his fingers dripping crimson blood, and turned, his eyes darted around maniacally, looking for an escape, and finding none. Backed into a corner a hard knot constricted his throat, making it hard to draw breath.

His knees trembled and quaked, threatening to give out and black spots danced in his vision as though he was about to faint. He pressed his trembling hands against his temples, bloody prints leaving his hair turning slightly red, trying to still the frantic thoughts that raced through his mind, each one a taunting reminder of his mounting panic. He was going to die, this thing was going to kill him. He allowed his legs to give out, dropping him to the floor. A cloud of dust and grime erupted into the air as his pulse throbbed in his ears, a relentless drumbeat that drowned out all other sounds. Why did he listen to Black? Why did he allow his curiosity to get the better of him, it wasn't any of his business and now he was going to die. An overwhelming sense of calm and acceptance flooded his body as his head dropped, allowing his dark, blood-filled hair to curtain his face. The taps of claws crept closer before it pounced, its claws ready to dig into his skin and tear it to shreds.

“Petrificus Totalus” echoes throughout the space, causing Severus to look up, gleaming black claws inches away from his face.

“Well, what’re you waiting for? Come on, Snivellus. I can't hold him for long.” James Potter’s voice claims, his arm looping around Severus’, pulling him to his feet and dragging him out of the shack and into the tunnel, allowing the door to slam behind him as the sound of claws attacks the hardened wood.

“What were you thinking, you could've ruined Moony’s life if he killed you,” Potter screamed, his voice echoing off the tight space. Severus lowered his head, a snarky remark dying on his tongue. He knows this, he was stupid and almost got himself killed, if it wasn't for Potter he would be.

“Thank you,” Severus whispers, his hair still curtaining his face.

A sudden stop caused Severus to look up. Potter blinked rapidly at him, trying to process the unbelievable sight before him, his mind struggling to reconcile reality with the shock before falling into uncontrollable laughter. Severus tilted his head, doing a good impression of a confused puppy, watching as Potter doubled over, clutching his stomach as if this was the funniest thing in the world. Wiping the stray tears from his eyes, Potter's gaze lifts. “No problem, Snivellus. Now let's get out of here.” He said, smiling brilliantly.

Potter leads Severus out into the open air, the full moon shone brightly down on them as the wind shakes the leaves and their hair. They watch the lit-up castle, taking it in as they made their way towards it.

“Why did you save me anyways, I thought you hate me,” Severus questioned, his eyes studying the back of Potter’s head.

“Just because I hate you, doesn't mean Moony deserves to be expelled or worse, killed if he killed you,” Potter responded.

Of course, he didn't care about Severus, he was only worried about his little werewolf friend. He couldn't care less if Severus lived or died, as long it didn't affect him or his friends. They fall into silence for a few moments before Potter turns suddenly, his dark eyes staring into obsidian ones, anger gleaming his vision behind his glasses.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about Moony, are you?” his voice quaked, a slight fear behind his words.

What would be the point of doing that, no one would believe or even care what he's got to say. Not when the accusation is against the esteemed Potter and Black friend. People might even start to hate him more. So, he slowly shook his head not trusting his mouth not to stutter out his response. The thought of the claws ready and willing to tear his flesh from his bones sent a shiver down his spine. He wrapped his bloody fingers into his robes, welcoming the accompanying sting with it. Potter smiled at that, before turning and continuing toward the castle, paying no mind to Severus’ inner turmoil. Severus had to jog slightly to keep up, not wanting to be left behind outside the castle and risk getting caught by that filthy old squib and his ugly cat.

Severus' paranoid mind shuddered as they passed through the dark and peaceful castle. Phantom clicks of claws echoed in his ears. His stomach turned even at the thought of sleeping, being in a place where his mind could replay this night as many times as it wanted felt like his worst nightmare. When he reached the entrance of the Slytherin common room and closed the door behind him, his legs finally gave out from under him, not so gracefully lowering him to the cold stone floor. His breathing was hollow and ragged, his lungs not allowing enough air to fill them. With trembling hands, he reached up and pulled himself to his feet, stumbling a bit before reaching his dorm room and collapsing into his bed. As he closed the curtain and cast as many protection spells as he could, he finally felt safe enough to allow his breathing to slow and his heart rate to drop, enough to close his eyes and allow sleep to take him away, hoping it wouldn't betray him.

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Growling, claws, spell, running, lit up castle.

Growling, claws, spell, running, lit up castle

Growling, claws, spell, running, lit up castle

As Severus' hand trembles, he hears a crashing sound and looks around. Glass and dripping oil splash down the wall. Severus' wand tip is trembling slightly as a drop of oil drips down the wall. It happened again, he zones out, and his magic goes crazy. He sets his wand on the table and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes welcoming the pressure as whispers and snickers sound around him. His eyes meet the Marauders for the briefest moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes watching his every move. His eyes settle on Lupin, amber eyes full of fear, recalling the creature who nearly struck him down, causing his heart to race against his ribs. Severus felt the panic bubble to the surface of his skin. He didn’t want to do it in public, especially not in front of his classmates. They would never understand. He knew he had to get out of there fast or everyone will just make fun of him. At least more than they do already. He drops his gaze as he stands, taking no mind to the eyes that follow him out the door of the classroom. He has to get away, he can't stay in the same room as that... monster a second longer.

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Seeing him leave the classroom, he rises from the table to follow him when someone grabs his arm, forcing him to glance down.

“What are you doing?” Sirius growls, his dark eyes looking into his soul. Remus glances back at the door, his mind stuck between chasing after Snape or sitting back down.

“Didn’t you see the look in his eyes when he looked at me, he's afraid of me. I just want to make sure he's ok.” Remus answered, his eyes trailing back towards the door.

“What does it matter if he's afraid of you, honestly it serves him right,” James said, a smug glint in his eyes as Peter shrinks away from the commotion. Remus looks at his friends, astonishment fixed on his features. How could they say that, he doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him including Snape as weird and creepy as he may be. He wrenches his arm out of Sirius’ grip, anger burning in his eyes making them glow as he stalks out after Snape.

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Severus collapses in the library, the smell of old books, parchment, and ink fills his sinuses. He tries to breathe around the lump in his throat. Memories of that night, no matter how many weeks ago, still haunt every waking moment of his day and dreams. He can't escape, perhaps if he allowed that creature to take his life he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

The door at the front of the library slams shut, causing Severus to flinch. He tucks further into himself, his still-healing fingers buried into his robes. The sound of quiet footsteps makes their way closer to where he's hiding, but all he hears is the clacking of claws of the marble floors as they echo off the books.

Black claws stalk closer as bright amber eyes fill his vision. It finally came for him, the one that got away, maybe it will finish the job. His lips fall open, a silent scream echoes off the olden books. He scrambled away from the claw, hoping to give himself more time. As he hit the shelf with his back, books from the shelves tipped off the shelves and fell onto the floor with a loud crash, showering the floor with dust. A pair of calm steady hands clamp down on his shoulders, the presence sends a shiver down his spine as he flinches away. He peers up at the creature wanting to look it in its eyes when he dies, but is met with the scarred face of Lupin, his brows furrowed with concern etched into his features.

But that sight is worst to Severus, the concerned look in his eyes. An embarrassed blush floods his face, darkening it a deep red. He pushes the arm off his shoulders as he stands, almost knocking Lupin in the face, dusts off his robes, and bolts out of the library, leaving a stunned Lupin behind.

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Weeks turn into months and his nightmares of that night don't seem to go away. His skin becomes more gaunt and pale showing the darkness that formed underneath his eyes as his hair becomes increasingly greasy and brittle. He becomes less outspoken and shies away from anyone who raises a hand too quickly. At the sight of the Marauders, he turns away and practically bolts from their presence, his heart beating out of his chest as he sees them.

It's not fair. How could they move on like nothing happened while Severus is stuck in this endless loop of terror? His nightmares become more vivid, and every time he awakes in a cold sweat. It's just not fair.

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The Gryffindor table is as bright and noisy as ever. The children yelling and throwing food and utensils above the Marauders’ heads, they not paying any attention to their surroundings, eyes watching the Slytherin table, at one particular boy with obsidian eyes and night-black hair.

Sirius Black sighs bringing the attention of his three friends. “It's not any fun if he runs away at the sight of us. I mean the chase at first was thrilling but now it's just boring,” he says, his eyes lingering at the table of the green and silver snakes.

James nods, a finger pushing up his drooping glasses, “I know what you mean, Siri’. The thrill isn't there anymore.” his hand running through his dark wild hair. Suddenly Snape stands, the clattering of plates echo through the hall as he runs out of the room, many eyes following after him. The Marauders look at each other, confusion written on their faces before standing and following after him, Sirius taking the lead.

Through the winding passageways, following the sound of quickly retreating footsteps, they come to the door of an abandoned classroom, thick dust is scattered throughout the old wood and light fingerprints encase the door knob. Sirius looks back at his approaching friends before opening the door, careful not to allow the old hinges to squeak against the pressure. Peering inside, at the back corner of the room is a black bundle of worn clothing, slightly shaking as Sirius takes a closer look. A pang of guilt spangs in his chest as Snape’s bandaged and tiny fingers dig into his too-light robe, squeezing tightly.

‘That should hurt’ Sirius thinks as he stalks closer, the tiny fingers tightening even more as the others follow behind him. He crouches down, finally making his presence known to Snape, causing his head to snap up fast and hard, almost banging it into the back wall. The small half-blood makes eye contact with the Black heir and a shock of fear encases his red and tear-stricken eyes as he shoves himself closer to the corner of the room. Taking the hint Sirius takes a step back, giving Snape a little more room to breathe, but it seems that didn't work well as a shaking wand tip is pointed in his direction, fear-stricken eyes never leaving his.

“W-what do you want?” asked Snape, his voice quivering around the word. His big black eyes shine brightly against his too-pale skin. How come Sirius never noticed how innocent Snape’s face looked for a sixth year? The look reminded him of a puppy, shaking from fear.

“I found it weird to see you leave the great hall so abruptly, I had to see what was wrong,” Sirius said, giving his best and reassuring smile, his hands raised in surrender. The fear morphs into confusion then into anger as Snape stands, wand still level with Sirius causing Sirius to take another step back.

“Had to see what was wrong? What so you could make my life even harder? Do you even realize what you did to me? I have nightmares of that night playing on repeat all night. Every time I'm in a quiet room the sound of clicking claws echoes in my ears, I can't even look him in the face without wanting to hex him.” he practically screams, gulping down air as tears spring to his eyes. “Just stay away from me,” he screams, casting a silent Everte Statum fling Sirius into a pile of unused desks before bolting out of the left open door, slamming it shut behind him.

James and Remus jog over to a fallen Sirius helping him out of the pile, while Peter watches them. “Well, I think that went somewhat well. Do you?” Sirius said, holding his bruised arm and chuckling to himself masking the guilt that ran through his chest like a burning fire. James and Remus look at him like he's insane before walking out of the classroom, leaving him behind.

“Hey, wait for me,” Sirius yelled after them, leaving the somewhat destroyed classroom but none of his guilt behind.

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James observed the subtle air of guilt emanating from his friends. Well, maybe not Peter, as he hadn't done anything. None of them had, really. It was just a harmless prank. Yes, James had been furious during that first week, and so was Remus for what he did. Who wouldn't be, after nearly getting their best friend killed? What James couldn't understand was why they felt so guilty. After all, it was Snivellus who was the target of the prank, and he hadn't been seriously hurt. So why did they care so much? James understood why Remus felt remorse; he was used to hurt someone else, and even if it was Snivellus, it still troubled him. But why was Sirius feeling guilty now, when the whole prank had been his idea and his doing? As James sighed and threw himself onto his mattress, his glasses crooked on his face.

“What’s wrong, Prongs?” Remus asked, his voice muffled from where he was sitting.

"I don't understand what's wrong with you guys. I get why Moony is upset, but you, Pads, it was your idea. How can you be mad about a successful, harmless prank?" James said, frustration evident in his voice as the others lapsed into silence. Suddenly, the room was filled with the buzzing of magic, causing the windows to shake and the lanterns to swing. The walls and floors began to tremble as James looked around the dorm room, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene. Sirius, sitting across from him, stared with carefully concealed rage. Despite his efforts to hide his emotions, his magic revealed the intensity of his fury. It was clear that Sirius was seething with anger.

"What I did wasn't a 'harmless prank'; it was attempted murder, that's what it was. I may not have felt anything for him these last few weeks, but after what I saw in him, the true fear I saw when he looked at me, I've never been more guilty for allowing the Black Madness, because that's what it was, to take control. I shouldn't have done that to him; that shouldn't have been done to anyone." Sirius turned his head towards Remus, "And I'm so glad you forgave me for what I did, but honestly, I don't think you should have. You could have killed him, and that would be my fault if you did. I'm the one who put you in that position; I'm the one who told him where to go and what to do, so it would have been my fault if he died. So, don’t you dare tell me what I did was some harmless prank, like I put a color-changing potion in his food turning him blue, and not attempting to kill him," Sirius breathed heavily. The room stopped shaking by the end of his rant, before getting up and going to his bed, closing the curtains behind him.

James groans, what did he do?

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The Great Hall is as noisy as ever, with laughter and food being thrown, coming from both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, well the food comes more from the Gryffindors than the Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins are quiet, one table with their heads stuck in a book or working early on assignments while the other is watching the chaos around them. But one part of the Gryffindor table is quiet, and picking at their food instead of joining in the fight, The Marauders, minus James, have their heads down, guilt radiating from them, eyes continuing to try and glance through two rows of students to the Slytherin table. This continues until an angry redhead storms into the Great Hall, her face almost as red as her hair, her friends quickly following her as she marches toward the Marauders.

“What did you do to Severus, huh? The confidence I worked so hard to instill in him is gone and he won’t talk to me or even look at me, so what did you do?” she screamed, her voice carrying over the noise and the hall fell quiet, watching.

“Lily, maybe we should go talk somewhere more private,” James said, trying to soothe the fiery redhead. James stands and goes to grab her hand to pull her out of the Great Hall only for his hand to be smacked away.

“No, I want answers and I want them now. So, you will have to suffer the embarrassment of this being in public. Now, talk.” Lily said as she folded her arms over her chest and stared. She may have been shorter than James but in that moment James never felt more intimidated. He sighed, dropping his head before mumbling,

“I can’t tell you everything but a prank may have gotten out of hand and he could have gotten hurt, but didn’t.” he added quickly as her face grew redder before continuing “And now he’s afraid of us.” James glanced at her through his bangs, the fury marking every inch of her face started to cool as she breathed. James began to relax.

“Hurt him, that prank could have killed him.” Damnit, Sirius. Jame tensed again as a new wave of fury washed over her face.

“Kill him, KILL HIM.” She screamed fury and fear lacing her voice as James scrunched lower into himself. “What do you mean it could have killed him? Did you lock him in Myrtle's bathroom after being mean to her or throw him into the Forbidden Forest at night? What. Did. You. Do?” she enunciated each word with a hard jab to James’s chest.  

“I can’t tell you everything, at least not here, so could you drop it? Please,” James begged as he finally grabbed her hands and began dragging her out of the Great Hall the rest of the students watching silently.”

She shook her hands out of his grasp, “Not until you fix it,” she whispered, her voice harsh, and stormed out of the Hall, multiple eyes and her friends following her.

James collapsed back onto the bench allowing his head to fall into his hands as he groaned before glancing between his fingers and giving Sirius a death glare.

“What? I was only giving her the truth, unlike you.” The last part was mumbled and James only groaned, replacing his fingers over his face.

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Severus sits on one of the stands in the quidditch field, his legs pressed against his chest as he watches the grounds of Hogwarts, eyes glazed over. He’s shivering slightly as the winter coat he’s wearing isn’t warm enough to combat the chill, he knows that he could cast a warming charm, but his wand stays on the ground next to him, not out of reach but far enough to slightly forget that it’s there. He doesn’t need the charm anyway, he dealt with the cold back in Corksworth when they didn’t have enough money to pay the heating bill, so this cold is nothing. Severus sighs as his eyes come back into focus, why do they always do that, why can’t he float in the emptiness for more than a few minutes, why does he have to come back to the pains of reality? He allows his head to fall against his knees hiding the bags underneath his eyes, so dark that they look like bruises, from the same nightmare he’s had ever since being locked in that room with that monster.

The rustling of clothes coming towards him causes Severus to look up, his wand already back in his hand. Messy dark hair and crooked glasses fill his view, breath hitching in his chest Severus stands and begins to back away, wand raised and spell already on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t get far as one of Potter’s hands, quick with Seeker training, has Severus’s wand while the other has his wrist. What does he want, is he going to bring him back to the werewolf to finish him off? Fear courses through him as Severus glances at the sky, the crescent moon shining down at him. The sight relaxes him slightly as he glances back at Potter.

Potter let out a heavy sigh as he released Severus. "I want to apologize for Sirius. He should have never done that to you and put you in danger, and for that, I'm sorry," Potter said, his head slightly bowed. Severus observed the words flowing from Potter's mouth, but the sincerity didn't shine in his eyes, and his body language didn't convey true remorse. The words sounded rehearsed, as if Potter had practiced in front of a mirror before coming here. Severus didn't buy it; Potter didn't truly feel sorry. This wasn't a genuine apology, and anger overrode the fear within Severus.

"That was the worst apology I've ever heard. It's like you're not sorry at all. It seems as if someone forced you to come out here and apologize to me, but you don't feel remorse. So, who was it? Lupin? Or maybe Black? Wait, I know – it was Lily. She got mad at you for what happened to me and made you come here to fix it, didn’t she?" Severus spoke calmly, but the anger welled up inside of him and his magic buzzed underneath his skin ready to be used.

“Well, yeah, I don’t want her to be upset with me and she wouldn’t be upset if you got over yourself. I saved you before you could get hurt, so why are you still upset? Why are you still scared of Moony, of Pads, of me? I stopped Moony before he hurt you so you shouldn’t still fear him, Pads feels sorry for what he’s done to you, so you should forgive him already, and I haven’t done anything to you, I saved you, protected you like a true Gryffindor should even though I hate your guts, so you shouldn’t be upset with me.” Potter breathed heavily after his rant, his eyes slightly unhinged as Severus stepped further away from him, the fear slowly creeping back over the anger.

“I should stop fearing it, I should forgive him. Are you out of your mind!? They tried to kill me, they’re lucky I didn’t immediately go to Dumbledore after what they did and after your little rant maybe I should, so they could get the consequences they deserve.” Severus crossed his arms over his chest as Potter’s face turned a bright shade of red before fear slammed into him as Severus realized what he said, who he said it to, and that he currently had no weapon to protect himself with as his wand is still in Potter’s hand.

Severus gulped as Potter stilled, his magic crackling like ice, “You will do no such thing because if you do, I’m going to make you wish that Moony killed you.” Potter said, his voice icy as he threw Severus’s wand onto the stands and walked away leaving Severus to collapse onto the stands after he’s gone, fear coursing through him.

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Severus sat paralyzed in the snow long after Potter had departed, feeling the bite of the cold on his already numb limbs. His mind was consumed with questions. Why had he said those words? Why had he made everything so much more difficult for himself? Severus pondered whether Potter would follow through and end his life if he sought help from Dumbledore. But he knew he was just deceiving himself. Dumbledore probably already knew about the attack; after all, he seemed to know everything. And yet, he had done nothing about it. Was it because he chose to remain willfully ignorant of what his precious Gryffindors were capable of, or was he simply callous and indifferent to anyone not aligned with the light? In his wise and noble perspective, Slytherin was not on the light side. They were seen as the epitome of pure evil.

Severus let out a sigh, feeling the cold air against his skin snap him out of the daze he was trapped in. As he made his way back to the castle, his pace was measured and deliberate, the chill of the night causing his lips to gradually turn a tinge of blue. He fixed his gaze straight ahead, resisting the urge to look up at the Astronomy Tower. The castle was enveloped in tranquil silence, with the prefects completing their rounds and the younger students soundly asleep in their beds. Meanwhile, the older students were likely buried in their studies, preparing for their O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts. The peaceful atmosphere allowed Severus to feel a sense of relief as if he could finally breathe. His footsteps echoed lightly on the stone floor as he descended the stairs, marking his return to the dungeons that he called home. After silently closing the door behind him, he entered his shared dorm room, where the soft sounds of his roommates' snores filled the air. Climbing into his bed, Severus drew the curtains shut and let his mind drift.

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Black claws clacked against the wooden floor of the shack, deep growls echoing from the depths of the beast’s body as it staggered ever closer. Severus flinched as he pressed further into the corner he was trapped in. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to as he watched its amber eyes stalk closer. Severus had been here before, been through this, but this time Severus somehow knew that Potter wouldn’t come bursting through the door and save him. Finally, the creature pounced, its claws gleaming in the moonlight that filled the room from the cracks in the old wood, and dug deeply into his skin and muscle, cutting through them as if they were butter. Severus screamed as he felt the claws tear his skin off his bones, leaving behind deep gouges of missing flesh. Blood sprayed from the wound, covering the ground and the beast in a dark crimson hue. Severus struggled to take another breath as the claws came down upon him again, tearing and ribbing meat from the bone. Severus looked up into the eyes of the monster instead of finding the emptiness of an animal looking back as he did before, he saw calculated intelligence that no animal magically or not should have. This beast was enjoying itself, torturing him for entertainment before it killed him. Each mark left by its claws was precise and calculated to cause the most pain without killing him. Severus took another breath into his damaged body, vision blurring around the edges and fear still pumping through his veins, his clothes in tatters on the ground and his blood leaving no area untouched as the creature seemed to grow bored with playing with him because from one moment to the next the monster’s jaw snapped around Severus’s neck, its razor-sharp teeth slicing through the skin of his jugular, Severus’s vision whited out with pain before coming back to himself, the blurring of his vision had turned into black spots and he swears to himself that the creature smiled before the darkness took over.

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Severus collapsed onto the cold stone floor, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to his thoughts. Gasping for air, he struggled to fill his lungs as moonlight danced through the waters of the Black Lake, casting an ethereal glow into his dimly lit room. With a forceful reminder that it was just a dream, he willed himself to focus on the present and the fact that he was still alive. Desperate for some indication of the time, Severus performed a quick wandless Tempus spell, watching as the numbers floated into view. His breaths gradually steadied, and his heart rate slowed as he realized he had only managed an hour of troubled sleep before being abruptly woken once more.

He winced as the weight of his own memories threatened to crush him. The dreams that had once been a mere replay of past events had mutated into grotesque, distorted visions of reality. Severus felt unable to continue, to endure the relentless assault of these haunting recollections every time he closed his eyes. Standing up, he peeled off his worn, sweat-soaked sleep shirt, a garment weathered by years of use, and replaced it with a fresh one before silently slipping out of his dormitory. With no particular destination in mind, he allowed himself to wander, his body moving almost of its own accord. After an indeterminate passage of time, he found himself standing before Madam Pomfrey's office. Severus gazed at the wooden door for a moment before casting a wordless unlocking spell and cautiously easing the door open, ensuring it made no sound.

Severus moved stealthily through the dimly lit room, his footsteps silent against the cold stone floor. As he reached the cabinets housing the premade potions, he extended his wand and murmured the unlocking spell under his breath. The heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing row upon row of glass bottles containing various potions.

He carefully sifted through the collection until he located the small, diamond-shaped vials of Dreamless Sleep. With swift and practiced movements, he filled his pockets with as many bottles as they could hold, the soft clinking of glass echoing in the silence of the room. The once well-stocked cabinet now appeared nearly depleted as Severus made his hasty exit, his mind focused on the important task at hand. He snuck his way up to the Astronomy Tower, prizes safely tucked within the soft pockets.

One way or another these dreams will end tonight.

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The stars twinkled brilliantly in the vast expanse of the night sky, casting a gentle light over Severus as he sat against the sturdy wooden balcony railing, overlooking the castle's dark depth. He breathed in the crisp night air, tinged with the earthy scent of moss and stone, as he leaned into the cool wood, his fingers tracing the grain. Below him, the rough texture of the old stone wall felt comforting against his legs, which swung playfully back and forth, the soles of his shoes occasionally scraping against the surface.

He cradled a few delicate glass vials in his hand, each filled with an iridescent purple potion that glimmered like amethyst under starlight. He focused intently on the bottles, his empty, glazed-over, dark eyes reflected their enchanting colors as he rotated them. The liquid inside danced and twisted, caught in a mesmerizing whirl, creating a kaleidoscope of shades that seemed to mirror the cosmic wonders above and casting tiny, fleeting bursts of color against his pale skin. The reflections from the glass glimmered like miniature stars, emphasizing the deeply absorbed expression on his face as he lost himself in the interplay of light and shadow.

Perhaps this time, with these carefully crafted potions, he would finally find the peace he desperately sought. Maybe for once, he could drift into a deep, uninterrupted slumber, free from the haunting memory of those dark amber eyes that seemed to watch him, filling him with an unsettling dread. Severus lingered for a moment, casting one last, contemplative glance at the shimmering vials in hand, each containing a promise of respite. With a determined breath, he swiftly removed the corks from the glass bottles and, without hesitation, downed three rapidly, feeling the cool liquid flow down his throat as a flicker of hope ignited within him.

He understood, on some level, that he had pushed himself beyond the brink, but the desperation for a deep, restful sleep that wouldn’t mangle his thoughts was insatiable. With great effort, he struggled to his feet, his body swaying like a marionette, as the effects of the potions began to envelop him in a warm haze. Each droplet coursing through his veins brought a sense of heaviness, so inviting and treacherous.

He turned and focused on moving toward the familiar spiral staircase, and away from the precarious edge, but his dulled senses betrayed him. He miscalculated his steps and felt the unmistakable jolt of surprise when his back collided with the aging wooden rail. The gnarled timber, worn by years of neglect, protested under his weight, creaking ominously as if foretelling doom before it splintered beneath him.

In that fleeting instant, a sharp stab of fear pierced through the hazy fog of his mind, heightening his senses just enough to recognize the inevitable. As he felt himself tipping backward, time seemed to stretch, and acceptance washed over him like a cold wave. He fell from safety, the ground dropping into an abyss of shadow and uncertainty.

Amidst the tumbling chaos, he could have sworn he glimpsed two shimmering amber eyes fixed upon him—a haunting gaze that pierced through the darkness. Instead of the anger or hatred he had grown accustomed to, those eyes carried an unsettling expression of fear, reflecting something deeper than mere contempt.

Then, just as quickly as the thought formed, everything around him dissolved into inky blackness, swallowing him whole, and the world fell into a silent void.

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Remus lay silently beneath the heavy, dark curtains of his four-poster bed, his gaze fixed on the fabric overhead, as shadows danced in the soft, flickering light of the candle on his nightstand. Guilt and anger gnawed at him relentlessly, a constant reminder of the events that had transpired not long ago. Though he had begun speaking to Sirius again, the sting of betrayal lingered like a raw wound, pulsating with every thought of their fractured friendship.

With a heavy sigh, Remus finally pushed himself upright, the weight of the covers sliding down to gather around his waist. The old bed creaked softly under his movement, a familiar sound in the stillness of the room. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself before quietly parting the thick curtains that cloaked his sanctuary. The muffled snores from his friends in the other beds echoed around him.

As his bare feet met the chill of the wooden floor, he winced slightly, determined to keep his motion silent. He tiptoed across the room, glancing back to ensure he hadn’t awakened anyone, and approached James' trunk, which loomed in the corner like a trusty guardian of their shared secrets. With meticulous care, he discreetly unfastened the latch, bypassing the protective spells that James had carelessly cast around it.

Inside, the trunk was a jumble of clothes and forgotten treasures, but resting atop the disarray was a familiar sight—the Marauders’ Map. Its worn edges and faded, hidden ink told stories of countless adventures, laughter, and mischief. Remus's heart quickened as he reached for it, fingers brushing against the parchment with a mix of nostalgia and longing. He hastily closed the trunk, retracing his steps back to the safety of his bed, drawing the curtains closed once more to block out the rest of the world.

Settling back against his pillows, Remus took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he murmured, the words a familiar incantation as he tapped his wand against the old parchment. The ink shimmered to life, revealing the hidden secrets of Hogwarts. However, as his eyes scanned the lines of names and moving dots, searching for a specific one, confusion took root in his chest—the name he sought was not where he anticipated, and his heart sank in uncertainty.

Severus Snape- Astronomy Tower.

What in the world was he doing there? Remus's mind whirled with confusion as he pondered the unwelcome sight. The hour was late, and he should have been blissfully nestled in the warm cocoon of his bed, surrendering to sleep. With a furrowed brow, he reluctantly exited from the comforting embrace of his blankets, feeling the cool air as it nipped at his skin. He shuffled quietly out of his dormitory, the soft tap of his slippers echoing softly against the stone floor, a faint sound in the stillness of the night.

As he ventured down the dimly lit staircase, the glow of the common room beckoned him closer. The fireplace crackled pleasantly, its flames dancing warmly and casting flickering shadows across the walls. Remus shook his head, an internal struggle brewing as he fought the temptation to linger by the fire’s inviting light. Instead, he pressed on, stepping out of the Fat Lady’s portrait and into the shadowed corridors of Hogwarts.

The castle felt alive in the silence of the night, the walls whispering secrets as he slipped through alcoves, expertly maneuvering through hidden passages he had come to know so well. Every creak of the floorboards underfoot sent a rush of adrenaline through him as he discreetly made his way toward the Astronomy Tower. With each step up the spiral staircase, the cold winter air flowed against his sleepwear, sending shivers along his spine. He could feel the chill growing more pronounced with every upward movement, a stark contrast to the warmth he had just left behind.

Finally, he reached the top and cautiously pushed open the trapdoor. The sight that greeted him was startling—Snape, his normally composed figure now swaying slightly, surrounded by a collection of glass vials littered on the stone floor. Remus’s heart raced as he watched Snape, his pale features illuminated by the moonlight streaming in, hastily downing potion after potion as if they were water. One by one, the empty bottles slipped from his fingers, clattering ominously against the surface.

Just as Remus processed the scene, Snape stood upright, blinking in confusion as he turned toward the staircase. Panic surged through Remus; he barely had time to react as he ducked down, heart pounding in his chest. A deafening crash echoed through the tower, and his instincts kicked into overdrive. He glanced up just in time to see Snape, in a precarious state, teetering dangerously over the edge.

“Incarcerous!” Remus shouted, his voice breaking the quiet of the night as he pointed his wand with determination. As if on command, thick ropes erupted from the tip of his wand, spiraling through the air to ensnare Snape’s body and halt his perilous fall. In that heartbeat, Remus felt a surge of fear swell within him, his eyes likely shimmering with an amber glow. Their gazes locked for a fleeting moment, and in that instant, panic flickered across Snape’s features, eyes widening in shock before they rolled back, and his body went slack.

With a desperate tug, Remus pulled on the enchanted ropes, keenly aware of the weight of the situation. He yanked Snape back onto the solid stone ledge, his heart racing faster than his thoughts could process. Quickly, Remus dragged Snape away from the edge, a mixture of relief and concern flooded him as he retrieved one of the nearby empty potion bottles, bringing it close to his face. He inhaled deeply, hoping to discern what Snape had been consuming in such haste, each breath tinged with the metallic scent of alchemy and danger lingering in the air.

Sleeping Draught…

Snape took three full bottles of Sleeping Draught.

Remus sprang into action, in a heartbeat, hoisting Severus Snape’s light and unconscious form over his shoulder with a surge of adrenaline. His heart raced as he darted down the winding staircase of Hogwarts, each step echoing in the stillness of the night. The cold stone beneath his feet felt sharp against the fabric of his slippers, and he paid no mind to the possibility of being caught out of bed at such an hour.

Pushing onward, he maneuvered through the dimly lit halls, the flickering torches casting elongated shadows on the ancient walls. He passed by portraits that stirred but didn’t fully awaken, their painted eyes following him with vague curiosity. Remus felt the weight of the world pressing against him, each floor traversed fueling his urgency as he slid to a halt in front of Madam Pomfrey’s office, his breath coming in quick gasps.

With a sudden burst of frustration, he slammed his palm against the sturdy wooden door. Over and over again, the sound resonated loudly in the silence, bouncing off the stone walls, a plea for immediate attention. The door creaked open, after a heartbeat that stretched like an eternity, revealing Madam Pomfrey. Her weary eyes, framed by tousled hair, were narrowed in concern, and her wand was gripped tightly in her hand, ready for whatever emergency might lurk in the shadows before her wand lowered slightly at the sight of Remus.

“Mr. Lupin? What’s wrong?” she inquired, her brow furrowing as she studied his disheveled appearance and the anxious look on his face. She could see the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, evidence of his hurried journey. “The next full moon isn’t for a few weeks,” she added, trying to piece together the situation.

Remus shook his head vigorously, his breath coming in short gasps as he fought to regain his composure. He instinctively shrugged one shoulder, causing Snape—who was slumped against him—to jolt slightly, which finally captured Madam Pomfrey’s full attention. Her expression shifted to one of concern, her normally calm demeanor replaced by urgency as she stepped aside to create a clear path.

“Quickly, bring them in here, and tell me what happened,” she instructed, her voice steady but edged with panic.

Remus nodded, a sense of determination flooding through him despite his fatigue. He carefully maneuvered into the infirmary, mindful of Snape’s precarious condition. Once inside, he gently laid Snape down on a nearby bed, the sound of the mattress creaking under the weight echoing in the semi-quiet room. As he stepped back, he felt a mix of relief and dread, knowing that whatever had transpired outside was only just beginning to unfold.

“Found him…” Remus panted, his breath shallow. “Astronomy Tower… he drank so much of that Sleeping Draught… he almost fell… off the tower…” He collapsed heavily into a nearby chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a physical burden.

Madam Pomfrey was a whirlwind of activity, her practiced hands moving swiftly as she assessed Severus Snape’s motionless form sprawled across the bed. Various colors flickered and danced from her wand as she cast a series of diagnostic spells, each one illuminating the dim room with a different hue and revealing the extent of the potion’s effects on him.

With a worried frown etched across her features, she turned briskly towards her well-stocked cabinets, her sleep robes swirling around her as she snatched up vials of potions with urgency. The clinking glassware echoed in the quiet room as she expertly combined them, then directed her wand to spell the concoctions directly into Snape’s bloodstream.

Each spell was performed with precision, yet beneath her professional demeanor, a deep-seated worry lingered in her eyes. She sighed heavily, her breath a mingling of frustration and concern as she watched the small flickers of magic enter Snape’s system, hoping to counteract the potent draught that had rendered him so lifeless.

“This is all I can do for now,” Madam Pomfrey said, her voice steady but laced with concern. She glanced at the patient, who lay unconscious but stable on the cot. “He’s stable, so we don’t need to transfer him to St. Mungo's just yet. However, I will need to inform the Headmaster about this situation. He'll likely want to question you about what happened, so I suggest you prepare yourself for that.”

Remus nodded, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over him. The weight of the night settled on his shoulders as Madam Pomfrey gently patted him on the shoulder, a gesture of reassurance. “You can stay if you like,” she continued. “But please, make sure you get some sleep. You have classes tomorrow, and you’ll need your strength.”

With a heavy sigh, Remus turned his gaze toward the doorway of her office. He watched as Madam Pomfrey stepped inside, her expression serious as she prepared to firecall Headmaster Dumbledore about the incident. The flickering flames of the fire provided a warm glow, contrasting with the tension in the air.

They had been through so much already, and as the door closed behind her, Remus felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion crash over him. He sank back into the chair, allowing his body to relax for the first time that night. His head tipped back, resting against the cool wood, and he closed his eyes, trying to push away the memories of the evening and finally succumb to the sleep he desperately needed as the rise and fall of Snape’s chest and the quiet sounds of his sleep echoed in the small room.

Chapter Text

Remus sat in the dim light of the hospital ward, his gaze fixed on Snape's chest's steady rise and fall. A faint flicker of hope coursed through him: He’s alive… Snape is alive… If only he could anchor his thoughts to that truth. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he let his head fall into his trembling hands, the weight of guilt pressing down on him like an anchor in deep water. This was his fault—he couldn’t shake that guilt. If only he had been more vigilant, more discerning in whom he entrusted with the secret of his condition, perhaps this would’ve been different. Snape wouldn’t be lying motionless in a coma, the result of an overdose of Sleeping Draught. 

Remus ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, the strands sticking together with sweat and the remnants of an exhausting night. He winced at the greasy texture, yet the discomfort barely registered as he remained glued to his spot. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, and the sterile scent of the ward mixed with potions and uneasily with the bitterness of his regret. The soft beeping of the spell that resembled a heart monitor was a constant reminder of the fragility of life, echoing in the silence and amplifying his sense of despair.

Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office, her keen gaze settling on the still, pale form of Remus Lupin. A deep sigh escaped her lips, heavy with the weight of concern. “Go back to your dorm, Mr. Lupin. There’s nothing you can do for him at the moment, and remaining here won’t help,” she advised softly, yet firmly. 

Remus, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, jolted at the sound of her voice. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her entrance. Once her words registered, a flicker of defiance sparked within him, and he parted his lips to protest vehemently. However, Madam Pomfrey merely raised a steady hand, pointing toward the door with an unyielding authority. 

With a reluctant sigh, heavier than lead, Remus pushed himself up from the chair, his body feeling heavy and tired. He cast one last, longing glance back at Snape’s figure on the hospital bed before shuffling out of the ward, his heart still heavy with worry. The corridor stretched ahead of him, each step feeling like a mile as exhaustion clung to his limbs, dragging him down.

Eventually, he reached the portrait of The Fat Lady, her jovial expression counteracted by the turmoil inside him. He murmured the password, and the portrait swung open with a soft creak, allowing him into the common room. The common room was filled with warmth and light, different from the coldness that enveloped him when he left the hospital ward. As the door closed behind him with a gentle thud, he made his way up the familiar staircase, each step a reminder of his weariness until he finally reached his dormitory. The warmth of his dorm room, usually a source of comfort, felt distant as he pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, seeking quiet. 

Remus flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension in his back release as he sank into the soft embrace of the mattress. He was alive… alive and Remus had saved him. Remus clung to that thought, his heart racing with relief and lingering dread. With a weary mind, he closed his eyes, and the memories washed over him like a relentless tide—just as they had for the past few days, relentless.

He could see the distant, almost glassy look in Snape’s eyes as he downed the Sleeping Draughts, each a gamble that felt more dangerous than the last. The memories played out in vivid detail; he recalled as Snape’s legs wobbled unsteadily beneath him, the swaying of his form like a frail tree in a storm. And when Snape attempted to stand, it was as if the very ground was unsure beneath him, causing him to stumble, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to regain balance.

The sound of the ancient wooden banister splintering echoed in his mind, the horrific cracking of wood punctuating the air as it faltered under Snape’s unexpected weight. The sight of Snape teetering precariously off the edge was burned into Remus’s consciousness. He could see the brief flash of fear that danced across Snape’s features, an instinctual response before it morphed into grim acknowledgment as if he had willingly accepted fate.

Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and in that brief exchange, Remus could see the stark terror in Snape’s gaze, the same terror that he had every time he looked at him. Those dark eyes, usually so sharp and guarded, glazed over as he allowed himself to tilt off the edge of the Astronomy Tower. In a split second before the inevitable, it was as though time had slowed, allowing Remus to grasp the gravity of what was happening. Then, just like that, the light in those eyes dimmed as they rolled back, and Snape succumbed to the heavy, artificial sleep that consumed him, leaving Remus with a spiraling mix of horror and determination.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Remus muttered into his sheets, “that I scared you; that I still scare you, that in the Shrieking Shack, I traumatized you enough that you felt like that was the only way. The only way for you to feel a semblance of peace,” tears clung to his eyelashes as his shoulders shook. He buried his face deeper into the mattress. “If you wake up, I’ll make it up to you somehow, please just wake up…”

The heavy door creaked ominously as it swung open, the sound reverberating through the oppressive silence that enveloped the room. Remus looked up, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, tears streaming down his pale cheeks like twin rivers of despair. The sight of Sirius ignited a familiar storm of anger and betrayal within him as if a once-vibrant warmth of friendship had been extinguished, leaving behind only the jagged remnants of their bond. Those fractured pieces, once delicately glued together by years of loyalty, were beginning to unravel, threatening to fall apart completely.

As their eyes locked, the smile his friends wore evaporated, replaced by expressions of deep concern and confusion. They stood on opposite ends of a vast emotional chasm, each feeling the tempest brewing beneath the surface of Remus's composed facade.

“Mooney… what’s wrong?” Sirius asked, his voice trembling slightly as he took a cautious step forward, extending his hand in a gesture meant to offer comfort. But Remus, fueled by a raw and instinctual defensiveness, recoiled abruptly, slapping Sirius’ hand away as though it burned him.

“This is all my fault…” Remus’ voice cracked, the weight of regret pressing down on him like an unbearable burden. He began pacing the room like a caged beast, fingers tangling in his tousled hair, a desperate attempt to regain control. “I shouldn’t have trusted anyone with my lycanthropy. I should have guarded my secrets more fiercely, or maybe… I should’ve never accepted the invitation to come to Hogwarts at all,” he ranted, each word laced with bitter self-recrimination. “If I hadn’t, none of this would have happened! No one would be hurt, and no one would have to look at me with fear! Like I’m a monster…”

“Mooney… Mooney! Slow down, and breathe. What happened?” James interjected, urgency threading his voice as he raised his hands like he was trying to calm a frightened animal, cautiously stepping closer, concern etched across his features.

Remus abruptly halted, his breath hitching in sharp, ragged gasps. “Snape—he’s in the hospital ward, comatose! Because of me! Because of him!” Anguish twisted Remus’ features into a mask of torment, his finger shaking as he pointed accusingly at Sirius, struggling to contain the tempest of emotions that threatened to consume him. The weight of guilt bore down on him like a relentless anchor. “He thought the only escape from this pain was to take three Sleeping Draughts and fall from the Astronomy Tower!”

Silence settled over the room like a suffocating veil. Remus, spent from the outburst, lowered his finger as he collapsed onto his bed, his head hanging low, forehead pressed into trembling palms, elbows digging into his knees. Sirius remained motionless, his mind racing, grappling with the horrifying implications of Remus’ words, vivid and terrifying images swirling in his thoughts—fragments of what could have happened, each more gut-wrenching than the last.

What had he done? The gravity of his actions weighed heavily on him, a suffocating blanket of regret that repulsed him to his core. How could he have inflicted such damage, such unbearable pain on another soul? The thought twisted in his stomach like a knife, sending him stumbling toward the trash can in the corner of their cramped dorm room. He gagged violently as if trying to expel the torment gnawing at him from within, and James quickly knelt beside him, instinctively holding back his hair while rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

Sirius’ breaths came in sharp gasps, each inhale laced with despair. "I—I could’ve killed him… again," he choked out, the words tumbling from his lips like shattered glass. He retched once more, the acrid smell of the trash can intensifying his nausea, but when he finally pulled away, his voice was filled with anguish. "It was my fault that he almost died the first time, and it’s my fault that he almost died again this time."

“Hey, hey,” James murmured, his tone soft yet unsteady. “It’s nobody’s fault, okay? He chose to do this himself. You can’t take the weight of his choices upon yourself.” His attempt at comfort trembled under the weight of his own guilt. The memory of how he had treated Snape echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the unjustified threat he had leveled in a misguided effort to protect Remus. Each thought settled into the crevices of his conscience, mixing with the sharp pangs of remorse he felt for his own actions. Merlin, how could he have said that? What if that was what took him over the edge, what if it was truly his fault that this happened?

James felt like crying, but he couldn’t, not yet, he had to be strong for his friends because he couldn’t leave Peter to handle all three of their breakdowns alone. That wouldn’t be fair, so he had to hold it together and when everyone was asleep, he could have his own in the quiet of his bed. So, James kept comforting Sirius while Peter tried to draw Remus out of his semi-dissociated state because that’s all they could do, for now.