Harry Potter: I became Snape

Greyback's roar sent an ominous echo rippling through the Forbidden Forest.

Three werewolves, spurred by his command, burst from the underbrush, advancing on Snape once more. Among them, the traitor named Viktor led the charge, his yellow fangs glinting coldly.

"Get down!" Hagrid's voice boomed from behind Snape.

Snape ducked instantly. A crossbow twanged, its string humming as a stout oak arrow whistled over his head, embedding itself deep in Viktor's abdomen.

Viktor let out a whimper, staggering sideways, but a curse from Greyback froze him in place.

"Nice shot, Hagrid!" Snape called, rolling to the side to dodge a second green flash from Greyback. Standing still and twirling like a fool, hoping to Apparate away, was hardly a wise move in such a moment.

The Killing Curse struck a beech tree behind him, splintering the trunk in an explosion of wood chips.

"Run, little rat!" Greyback's shrill laughter pierced the air. "The farther you scurry, the tastier you'll be. Let's see how fast a Hogwarts student can flee!"

A dark shape erupted from a pile of leaves, and Nagini's venomous fangs sank into the nearest werewolf's calf.

Amid the screams, Snape seized the moment, unleashing three Killing Curses. Green light carved dangerous arcs through the darkness.

Two enemies fell instantly, but the third—Viktor, the traitor—dodged with a sliding kneel.

"A snake?" Greyback's voice wavered with uncertainty as he raised his wand. "Avada—"

Nagini slithered swiftly across the damp ground, coiling around Greyback's arm before he could react.

"Get off!" Greyback roared, flinging his arm. Nagini was thrown aside, crashing into a tree trunk with a pained hiss.

Distracted, Greyback's curse veered off target. He snarled, turning his wand toward Nagini.

Snape's heart clenched. A spell flew from his wand: "Sectumsempra!"

An invisible blade slashed across Greyback's chest. The werewolf howled in pain, but the wound forcibly knitted itself shut, staunching the blood.

"Aren't you a Hogwarts student?" Greyback panted. "Ever consider joining us? The Dark Lord can give you everything—power, status, knowledge…"

Snape's eyes narrowed, his wand tip spitting blinding green flashes. He needed nothing from Tom Riddle. Why would he, a proper wizard, grovel like a dog at Riddle's feet?

Greyback dodged with startling speed, his voice grating: "Look at you, wielding Unforgivable Curses so deftly. Does Dumbledore know his student's true colors?"

Snape anticipated Greyback's movements, firing curses relentlessly.

A faint crack split the air. Dobby returned with Dumbledore, accompanied by Lyka Luppa, the werewolf girl who had left moments before.

Green light illuminated Dumbledore's face. His blue eyes, framed by half-moon spectacles, flickered with complex emotions as he gazed at Snape.

"Professor!" Snape shouted.

Greyback evaded another Killing Curse, his face twisting at Dumbledore's arrival. He darted behind a tree. Viktor, sensing the tide turning, tried to follow.

"Avada—" Snape began, but, aware of Dumbledore's presence, he shifted his gesture. "Wingardium Leviosa—followed by a thud!"

Viktor rose lightly into the air before crashing into the ground, carving a pit in the mud.

With a soft pop, Greyback vanished into the shadows.

Snape exhaled deeply. He glanced at Nagini, who was slowly slithering toward him, visibly injured.

Crouching, he let Nagini coil onto his arm, carefully inspecting her wounds.

"That snake…" Hagrid, having noticed Nagini's role in the fight, looked at Snape with confusion.

"She's my friend," Snape said swiftly, stroking her head and murmuring a healing charm.

Nagini hissed contentedly, slipping back into his robes.

"Professor, you're finally here!" Snape greeted Dumbledore warmly, as if he hadn't just been hurling Killing Curses. "We nearly lost you."

Casually, he aimed a Sectumsempra at the unconscious Viktor, but Dumbledore deflected it with a wave.

Ropes shot from Dumbledore's wand, binding Viktor tightly.

"If I hadn't arrived," Dumbledore's gaze settled on Snape, "I suspect no one but you would still be standing."

"Oh, come now," Snape gestured at Viktor. "He's still alive, isn't he? I only used a Levitation Charm—"

"We need to get to the camp!" Lyka interrupted, her voice trembling with urgency. Her amber eyes brimmed with worry. "My companions are still there!"

"Professor, take me with you," Snape said to Dumbledore. He'd never been to the werewolf camp in the Forbidden Forest and couldn't go alone.

"Hagrid, Dobby, keep watch here," Dumbledore nodded, extending his arms. "Hold on."

Snape and Lyka each grasped an arm. After a suffocating squeeze, they appeared in a hidden clearing deep in the forest.

The sight was grim. The werewolf camp—once a cluster of crude tents and wooden huts—was now a ruin.

Tents lay in shreds, the ground stained with blood and scarred by combat. Smoldering firepits sent wisps of smoke curling into the air.

Several werewolf corpses sprawled in twisted poses, the air thick with the stench of blood and a feral, beastly musk.

Lyka let out an inhuman wail, stumbling forward to kneel beside the nearest body—a grizzled male werewolf, his chest torn open, eyes frozen in terror.

"Uncle Norton…" Her trembling fingers brushed his pale cheek.

She staggered to another body, a young female werewolf, her golden hair matted with dark red blood. "Mara…"

Snape scanned the scene calmly, counting—at least seven dead, with a few survivors bearing various injuries.

He approached the nearest wounded, an older male with a ghastly tear across his abdomen.

"Stay still," Snape said curtly, drawing his wand to cast healing charms.

"I'm so sorry, child," Dumbledore said softly, resting a hand on Lyka's shoulder. "No one should endure such pain."

"Why would they do this?" Lyka looked up, her eyes blazing with raw hatred. "We just wanted to live quietly! We never hurt anyone…"

"Mara's gone, Norton's gone, Carl's gone…" Her voice broke, her fists clenching until her nails drew blood.

"What's the use of crying?" Snape said without looking up, continuing his healing work. "Better to spend that energy killing enemies."

"What can I do?" Lyka whirled on him, her voice a hoarse roar. "We have no wands. As werewolves, we lose control when we transform. We can't even avenge ourselves…" Her voice trailed off.

Dumbledore sighed. "Violence only begets more violence, Lyka. Revenge isn't the answer. You have survivors who need your care."

Snape snorted but didn't argue. Finishing basic treatment on the last wounded, he stood, brushing dirt from his robes.

Today's events reminded him of Albania, where an old hag who experimented on werewolves had given him a yellowed parchment and a necklace adorned with a blood-red canine tooth.

Snape reached into his robes, retrieving the parchment and necklace.

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened instantly. "Severus, what are those? They reek of Dark Magic."

"I know they're Dark Magic," Snape nodded, his tone even. "Last summer, in an Albanian forest, I met an old witch. She used these to control werewolves. I saw her force one to transform outside a full moon."

He briefly recounted how he'd acquired the items.

"She also used a strange song to control them," Snape said, holding up the parchment. "Sadly, it's not recorded here. But this describes a method to make werewolves transform without a full moon."

"Furthermore," he paused, "Professor, you've surely noticed the Wolfsbane Potion mentioned in The Daily Prophet. It lets werewolves retain their minds during transformation. Perhaps we could refine it."

Lyka's eyes lit up, and she nearly lunged at Snape. "If that's true… controlling transformations… staying lucid…"

"Hold on," Snape stepped back, giving her a measured look. "In theory, yes. It could give you the power to seek revenge. But the method's imperfect. Perfecting it would require more experiments—and more werewolf volunteers."

"Severus, that's unacceptable," Dumbledore frowned. "These survivors have suffered enough. They need healing and safety, not more pain."

"I'll do it!" Lyka cut in before Snape could respond. "Please, give us the parchment."

"Professor, it seems Lyka's made her choice," Snape said to Dumbledore. "Even if I don't give it to her now, she'll come looking for me later."

Dumbledore removed his glasses, rubbing his nose wearily.

"But I can't hand it over so easily," Snape said to Lyka. "It's too risky. If it fell into Voldemort's hands, he'd be enough to build a werewolf army."

"For revenge, I'd do anything," Lyka declared.

"If you'd do anything," Snape said, "then I need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow. If Professor Dumbledore agrees, he can witness."

"Professor, please," Lyka's tears spilled again as she pointed at Mara's body, her voice choking. "She… she was a healer at St. Mungo's, bitten by a patient on purpose. Before coming here, she locked herself in a basement every full moon, terrified of hurting anyone. Greyback killed her… I have no other choice…"

Dumbledore's gaze swept the camp, Lyka, Snape, and finally the parchment.

He was silent for so long that Snape thought he'd refuse.

At last, he nodded heavily. "If this is a mutual choice… though I disapprove, I'll witness."

Lyka exhaled, stepping firmly before Snape, meeting his eyes. "For revenge, I'll make any vow."

Snape extended his hand, and Lyka clasped it. He felt the faint tremble in her palm, but her grip was resolute.

"Vow," Dumbledore said, placing his wand tip on their joined hands.

Snape spoke.

"Lyka Luppa, upon receiving the parchment and necklace regarding werewolf transformation, do you swear to keep their knowledge strictly confidential, held only by you?"

"I do," Lyka answered without hesitation.

A thin, blazing flame shot from the wand, coiling around his wrist like a red-hot wire.

"Do you swear never to stand against me, Severus Snape, or act as my enemy?"

Dumbledore nodded, and Lyka nodded faintly.

"I do," she said.

A second flame erupted, intertwining with the first, forming a shimmering red chain.

Dumbledore's brows knitted tighter, but he didn't move his wand.

"And," Snape said softly, his black eyes locked on Lyka's amber ones, choosing his words carefully," "when not faced with clear, deliberate malice against you, do you swear to do your utmost to obey my commands and fulfill any lawful tasks I assign?"

Lyka's hand quivered in his, but she didn't pull away.

Dumbledore's gaze bore into them, especially Snape. His wand hovered over their clasped hands, as if weighing whether to halt the ritual.

"I do," Lyka said at last, taking a deep breath.

Their faces glowed red in the light of a third flame. It surged from the wand, weaving with the others, binding their hands tightly like a rope, like a fiery snake.

The light faded, and the vow was complete.

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