As they bid farewell to the headmaster and left the office, the oak door closed softly behind them.
Silence fell once more.
When they reached the entrance hall, Remus suddenly spoke. "Why did you help me?"
"Because I like furry things." Snape's steps faltered slightly, and he flashed a smile at Remus.
Remus stared at him in shock, his gray-green eyes widening.
"Not you, obviously!" Snape quickly added, seeing Remus's expression freeze. "Get those thoughts out of your head. My preferences are straighter than a beam of light!"
Remus's shock morphed into confusion, then dissolved into a soft chuckle.
"Alright, Severus. Either way… thank you for the potion." He hesitated, as if considering whether to extend a hand, but ultimately decided against it. "See you later."
"Show me your transformation, Remus," Snape said, turning and striding toward the castle doors. "Don't expect me to keep being this generous."
Stepping out of the castle, a summer breeze greeted him, carrying the earthy scent of the grounds and the fresh aroma of grass.
As Snape walked toward the Forbidden Forest, he slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his robe. Two vials of Wolfsbane Potion still rested quietly there.
"Severus."
A high-pitched voice interrupted his steps from behind. He turned to see Peter Pettigrew scurrying toward him from the castle.
"What is it?" Snape asked coldly.
Pettigrew flinched, as if Snape had cracked a whip at him.
"I… I just wanted to ask," he panted, his round eyes darting nervously, "can I join your Heartfire Society?"
Snape raised an eyebrow, blinking slowly as he processed the absurd request.
"Why, Wormtail?" he asked mockingly, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Because I'm stronger than your little friends now? Tell me, what could you possibly bring to the table?"
"I…" Pettigrew's Adam's apple bobbed, sweat gleaming on his forehead in the sunlight. "I thought you'd accept anyone…"
"Do your friends know?" Snape abruptly changed the subject, his eyes fixed on Pettigrew's face.
"No," Pettigrew replied quickly, then, as if realizing he'd said too much, added, "I mean… I haven't told them yet."
Snape took a step forward, looming over the shorter Gryffindor.
"In theory, we accept witches and wizards of any skill level," he said deliberately, watching a spark of hope flicker in Pettigrew's eyes. "But—sorry, Wormtail, you don't make the cut."
"Why?" Pettigrew looked up, his face a mix of confusion and hurt.
"Why?" Snape echoed with a derisive laugh. "How can you even ask that, Wormtail?"
"Let me ask you this: would you share all of Potter's and Black's secrets with me and help me take them down?"
"No," Pettigrew recoiled as if burned, taking two steps back. "I'd never betray them."
"You wouldn't betray your friends?" Snape's voice dropped to a dangerously soft tone. "Oh, of course. You just want my favor, don't you? Even though I'm stronger than your friends now, I haven't threatened you. Nor would I kill you."
"I—I don't know what you're talking about, Severus—" Pettigrew mumbled, his eyes darting away. "If you don't want me to join, fine…" He turned to leave but paused, casting a cautious glance back. "You… you won't tell James and the others, will you?"
"That's your business," Snape said. "Goodbye."
Pettigrew scurried back toward the castle.
Snape stood still, watching the retreating figure. "Peter," he called after him, "remember what you said today. I hope you truly mean it about not betraying your friends."
The evening breeze carried his words to Pettigrew's ears. His steps barely faltered, though his shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly before he quickened his pace toward the castle.
Snape shook his head and continued toward the Forbidden Forest.
The edge of the forest loomed close, its towering trees casting long shadows as if welcoming him. Stepping into the shade, Snape felt a pleasant coolness creep up his spine.
After about ten minutes of walking deeper into the forest, he sensed a release of some invisible restraint—he had left Hogwarts' Anti-Apparition wards.
Without hesitation, he spun on the spot, and with a faint pop, he vanished.
Moments later, he reappeared in a clearing deep within the Forbidden Forest, still some distance from the werewolf encampment. He smoothed his rumpled robes and set off toward the camp. Unlike the ruins he'd last seen, the werewolf encampment now looked revitalized.
Tall wooden fences enclosed a safe perimeter, with several simple watchtowers positioned at key points. The corner of Snape's mouth twitched upward—Lyka had done even better than he'd expected.
Two werewolves were chatting atop one of the watchtowers.
"Why hasn't the sun set yet?" a younger werewolf asked, anxiously scratching his furry arm.
"Yeah," an older one agreed. "It's usually dark by now. Strange."
At the sound of Snape's footsteps, both werewolves snapped to attention. The younger one raised a rough wooden bow, aiming an arrow toward the noise.
"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice sharp with tension.
Before Snape could respond, the older werewolf pushed his companion's weapon down.
"Put that away," he said, squinting at the figure in the shadowed fence. "This is our most honored friend." Then, calling out, "Please wait, Mr. Snape, I'm coming down."
Snape watched as the older werewolf nimbly descended the watchtower.
Soon, he reached the camp's entrance, opened the heavy wooden gate, and bowed respectfully to Snape.
"You're finally here, Mr. Snape," he said, his voice tinged with excitement. "We didn't get a chance to thank you properly last time."
"And you are?" Snape asked, studying the scarred werewolf.
"I'm the one you saved last time." The werewolf gestured to his abdomen. "Here, remember? A long gash. You healed it."
"I remember you now," Snape said with a nod and a slight smile. "You were barely hanging on. What's your name?"
"Kyle Kaufman," the werewolf grinned, revealing sharp teeth. "You must be here to see Lyka."
At that moment, the younger werewolf climbed down from the tower and approached the gate.
"Sorry, Mr. Snape," he said, wringing his hands. "I didn't see you last time."
"No matter," Snape replied. "You did well. Stay vigilant." The young werewolf nodded quickly.
"Elliot," Kyle turned to him, "go fetch the leader—oh, never mind." He changed his mind. "I'll take you straight in, Mr. Snape, and show you our new home."
He gestured enthusiastically for Snape to follow.
Stepping into the camp, Snape's eyes widened slightly at the sight before him. Apart from a collapsed wooden hut and a torn tent left in the center as a memorial, the camp was thriving.
Several new wooden cabins stood in neat rows, and a bonfire burned in the central clearing, where a few young werewolves chased each other playfully.
Most striking was the sturdy stone building beside the central ruins.
Noticing Snape's curious gaze, Kyle explained, "Thanks to your wand, Mr. Snape. We're doing much better now."
"All thanks to you," he added, waving his bow and pointing to the fences. "Lyka built them bit by bit with Transfiguration."
"This stone house," Kyle said, gesturing to the solid structure, his eyes shining with gratitude, "is for us to stay in before the full moon. It's great—no more worrying about wrecking our homes."
"No need to thank me," Snape said with a chuckle. "This time, I've brought you something else."
"Thank you so much!" Kyle's eyes lit up. "This way—Lyka's tending to some volunteers."
He led Snape quickly toward a tent on the other side of the camp.
Along the way, werewolves greeted Snape warmly—men, women, young, and old. Many faces were unfamiliar, though a few sparked faint recognition. He nodded back, returning their enthusiastic greetings.
Despite Kyle's insistence that "Mr. Snape has important business with Leader Lyka," they still wanted to shake his hand. A young girl even handed him a bouquet of wildflowers.
"It's fine, it's fine," Snape said, his face flushed as he greeted and shook hands with them, his voice warmer than it ever was at school. "I'm glad to see you all doing well. Things will only get better."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a stash of supplies—medicine, food, wine, and even a few packets of sweets. These were meant for himself, but he was happy to share them with the werewolves now.
Finally, they reached the tent.
"Lyka," Kyle cleared his throat, pulling back the tent flap and calling inside, "we have a special guest."
"What's all the noise outside, Uncle Kyle?" a clear, feminine voice replied from within.
"Guess who's here," Kyle said mysteriously.
As Snape entered, Kyle tactfully closed the flap and stood guard outside.
Inside, Lyka was checking on two volunteers. Her back was to the entrance, wand in hand, murmuring healing charms over their wounds.
Hearing the movement, Lyka turned, her pointed wolf ears perking up. Her amber eyes lit up the moment she saw Snape.
"Mr. Snape!" she exclaimed, immediately setting aside her work to approach him.
Lyka looked much healthier than the last time they'd met. Her chestnut hair, once dull and matted, now shone with a soft luster. The only constant was the blood-red fang necklace hanging at her chest, swaying gently with her movements.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her joyful expression briefly giving way to guilt. "I'm sorry… about the werewolf transformation experiments. I haven't succeeded yet. Rebuilding the camp took so much time…"
"No rush," Snape said, waving a hand dismissively. "You deserve to live well too." His gaze swept over the injured volunteers, who looked at him with awe. "Besides, it hasn't been that long. I didn't expect success so soon."
"But," he continued, reaching into his robe to retrieve a crystal vial containing the Wolfsbane Potion, "I've brought you some good news this time."
"What is it?" Lyka asked, her nose twitching slightly as if trying to identify the potion's contents.
"Wolfsbane Potion, enough for two," Snape replied, holding the vial out to her. "It keeps werewolves lucid during their transformation."
Her eyes never left the vial. "This is what you mentioned last time—" Lyka's voice dropped, though her excitement was palpable.
"Yes," Snape said, frowning. "What are you waiting for, Lyka? Take it."
"But it's too valuable," Lyka hesitated, her fingers curling and uncurling nervously at her sides. "We…"
"What's wrong?" Snape's tone carried a hint of impatience. "Didn't you swear to follow my orders last time? Can't you even manage a simple instruction?"
Lyka took a deep breath and finally accepted the potion.
"Thank you… for everything, Mr. Snape," she said softly. "I don't know how we can ever repay you."
"Don't dwell on it," Snape's expression softened. "This is the first batch of Wolfsbane Potion we've made. Test its effects. Drink it for seven days straight until the full moon. And no adding sugar." He paused. "Going forward, I'll have Dobby—the house-elf you met before—deliver the potions."
"You won't come back?" Lyka's voice dropped, her ears twitching nervously.
"Not usually," Snape said. "If you need anything, tell Dobby. He'll get word to me."
"Would you like to tour the camp?" Lyka asked eagerly. "We built it with the help of your wand."
"No need," Snape said, waving a hand. "Kyle already gave me the rundown."
"Alright," Lyka said, her pointed ears drooping slightly. "Would you stay for dinner? We just hunted a deer…"
"I've already eaten," Snape said, patting his stomach. "You enjoy it."
"Okay…" Lyka murmured. Suddenly, she seemed to remember something and rushed to a wooden chest by the tent's edge. She carefully retrieved a long, glossy bundle of white hair.
Running back to Snape, she held it out with both hands.
"Mr. Snape," she said, her eyes shining, "this is for you. Unicorn tail hair, pulled from their tails. They sometimes get caught on branches in the forest, and we collect them."
Snape took the shimmering, pearlescent bundle and tucked it into his robe's inner pocket.
"Thank you, Lyka," he said sincerely. "This is worth quite a bit."
"No, we're the ones who should thank you," Lyka said, blushing, her tail wagging slightly behind her.
"Well, I should go," Snape said, checking the time.
"I'll walk you out," Lyka said immediately. She pulled back the tent flap, letting Snape exit first.
The glow of the setting sun bathed the camp in warmth. Werewolves gathered in small groups around the bonfire, preparing dinner.
Lyka followed Snape to the camp's edge, her reluctance to see him go evident.
"This is far enough. Goodbye," Snape said, waving as he stepped into the shadows of the trees.
After a few steps, he glanced back—Lyka still stood at the camp's entrance.
He raised his hand in another wave, then vanished into the tree line.
————
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