Hogwarts i am snape

As the Unbreakable Vow sealed itself, a burning sensation flared on Lyra's inner wrist. She let go of Snape's hand and quickly rolled up her tattered sleeve, revealing a fresh scar. Lyra gently ran her fingers over the mark, her amber eyes a mix of hope and hatred.

"Now, can I have it?" she eagerly looked at Snape.

Snape didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes scrutinized the young werewolf girl – her chestnut hair was matted with blood and dirt, her face bore several fresh cuts, yet her gaze was terrifyingly resolute. He suddenly realized that before him wasn't just any werewolf, but a warrior pushed to the brink.

"Remember our agreement." Snape reached inside his robes, pulling out a piece of parchment and a necklace, placing them in her trembling hands. The moment her fingertips brushed against the fanged necklace, she flinched, as if pricked by something.

"There's powerful dark magic on this," Dumbledore, who had been standing by, suddenly spoke. "You must use it with extreme caution, Lyra."

"I will, Professor," Lyra took a deep breath and fastened the necklace around her neck. The blood-red fang hung precisely at the center of her collarbone, a stark contrast against her pale skin, looking much like a fresh wound.

Dumbledore seemed about to say more but ultimately only sighed. "It's getting late. We should head back to Hogwarts. Lyra, do you need any more help?"

"We're used to taking care of ourselves," Lyra shook her head, her fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the parchment. "Now that we have this..." She looked at Snape, a complex glint in her eyes. "I think we'll manage."

Snape nodded slightly, then surveyed their surroundings. "Reparo—" He drew his wand, attempting to mend the chaotic camp.

"Don't!" Lyra cried out, stopping Snape just as he mended a fallen tent. "I want to keep it as it is." Lyra took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over every bit of destruction, every pool of blood. "I don't want to pretend nothing happened. Everything cannot simply be 'repaired.'"

"Besides," she licked her parched lips, "I want to do something for them myself."

Snape said nothing, merely putting away his wand. He and Dumbledore stood by, watching Lyra busy herself among the ruins. Her movements were surprisingly gentle, as if afraid to disturb anything. She walked to the bodies, knelt, and softly closed the eyes of the deceased, then carried them one by one to a clear space in the center of the camp. The other few survivors, barely able to move, also crawled up and silently joined her.

No one spoke; only heavy breathing and occasional sobs broke the night's silence. Lyra finally came to Mara's side. She knelt there for a long time, only using her trembling fingers to gently comb Mara's hair. In the moonlight, Snape saw glistening tears on Lyra's face.

Once all the bodies were neatly arranged, the survivors began gathering scattered wood, piling it atop the bodies.

"Need any help?" Snape quietly asked.

Lyra shook her head, continuing her work. Eventually, Lyra found a flint in the ruins of a crooked shack. The flame gradually grew, crackling. The blazing fire illuminated the face of every survivor. Snape watched Lyra's profile in the firelight – her tense jawline, her bitten lip, and the flickering fire in her amber eyes.

"There are still over a dozen people missing," Lyra said, her voice calm again as the flames began to recede. "They must have gone with Greyback." She paused, her voice growing even deeper. "Including my younger brother."

It wasn't clear how much time passed, but as the fire gradually dwindled, Lyra turned back. Snape glanced at Lyra, then reached into a small pouch inside his robes, pulling out several tents enchanted with an undetectable extension charm, some food, and homemade potions, handing them to her.

"These should help you get through the toughest few days," he said. "The potions can treat wounds and ease pain; I've written the instructions on the labels."

Lyra looked at the items, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes.

Snape then produced a crooked wand – it was the wand of the parchment and necklace's previous owner, the old witch. "Professor," Snape turned to the Headmaster, "can we give this to them? I've always wondered why most werewolves don't have wands."

"Werewolves who were once wizards are not stripped of their right to own a wand," Dumbledore sighed. "It's simply that they transform once a month, and in their nomadic lives, they easily lose or destroy their wands."

"If they are on the werewolf registry, they can no longer purchase another wand," he said. "Furthermore, some werewolves may lose their connection to their wands; the wand no longer chooses them."

Snape nodded. "And for these werewolves living in the Forbidden Forest—"

"One of the conditions under which I allowed them to stay here was that they would no longer possess wands, to prevent danger to the school," Dumbledore candidly admitted.

Silence settled between the three. Finally, Dumbledore nodded. "But I suppose – these are special times. Lyra can have the wand."

Lyra's fingers trembled slightly as she took the wand. She held it up to her eyes, examining every curve and abrasion.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she suddenly turned to Snape, bowing deeply, her chestnut hair falling to obscure her face. "For all of this."

"If your experiments make any progress, you can find Hagrid at the edge of the Forbidden Forest," Snape told her, then pulled up a sleeve, revealing the small snake coiled around his arm. "Also, if you encounter this snake in the Forbidden Forest in the future, do not harm her. Of course, by then she might be much larger."

Lyra looked up at Nagini in surprise, but quickly nodded.

"Come, Severus," Dumbledore said.

As they turned to leave, Snape took one last look at Lyra; the girl had already turned to tend to the other injured werewolves. Snape was about to draw his wand to Apparate away when Dumbledore stopped him.

"Walk with me for a bit," the Headmaster said.

They left the werewolf camp, slowly walking along a barely visible path deep in the Forbidden Forest. The night wind brought the rustling of leaves and the incessant chirping of insects.

"An Unbreakable Vow—" Dumbledore finally spoke. "Severus, you asked Lyra to pledge a degree of loyalty to you. What do you intend to do?"

"You know what I intend to do, Professor," Snape's steps didn't falter. "I want to do what Tom is doing – build an army of werewolves on our side."

"I won't put my hope in planting one or two spies among the werewolves," he said, "or relying on gifts and kind words to win them over. If we don't do something, I believe almost all werewolves will side with Tom."

"I'm just giving them a choice," Snape continued walking. "I never place my hope solely on the kindness of others. And if we do nothing, the ultimate result will simply be that all werewolves who are friendly to wizards will hide in corners, doing nothing, their fates entirely in the hands of others again."

"That's even worse than the Dark Lord," he stopped and turned to Dumbledore. "After all, for the 'Greybacks' of the world, at least the Dark Lord offers them a chance to strive towards their goals."

Snape noticed that Dumbledore's gaze held an emotion he couldn't decipher – not anger, not disappointment, but something profoundly deep.

"Severus," Dumbledore said softly, his voice almost carried away by the night wind, "I hope you know what you are doing."

"Of course, Professor," Snape replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore. "I am merely helping those who need help, allowing them to control their own destinies and to assist us."

Dumbledore looked at him deeply, then nodded. They both Apparated away, disappearing into the night with a soft crack.

On the other side of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was holding his crossbow, warily aiming at the bound werewolf, Viktor, while Dobby stood nearby, holding up his own finger. With the faint pop of Apparition, Hagrid noticed Dumbledore and Snape's arrival.

"Professor!" He lowered his crossbow, a clear sense of relief in his voice. "Is everything alright over there?"

"Heavy casualties," Dumbledore shook his head. "And over a dozen went with Greyback."

Hagrid angrily kicked Viktor, who let out a whimper and curled up on the ground, trembling.

"Professor," Snape asked, "will he be handed over to the Ministry of Magic?"

"What else?" Dumbledore countered.

"He's getting off easy," Snape scoffed, his eyes sweeping over the three other werewolves lying on the ground. "But – is this proper?"

Dumbledore walked to the three werewolves and bent down to examine them. A moment later, he straightened up. "They're dead." His voice held little emotion, merely stating a fact.

Then, Dumbledore waved his wand. With a snap, a branch above Snape's head suddenly broke and fell onto his shoulder. He stumbled back two steps, rubbing his sore shoulder, and asked bewildered, "What are you doing, Professor?"

"Solving your problems, Severus," Dumbledore retorted, clearly annoyed.

With another flick of his wand, the three werewolf bodies, under the Transfiguration spell, turned into several ordinary rocks. The forest floor automatically churned, swallowing the "rocks" deep underground. More branches and leaves rained down, covering all traces.

Viktor was stunned by the sight, desperately banging his head on the ground, begging for mercy. But Dumbledore's wand was already pointed at him. A flash of white light, and Viktor's eyes immediately took on a peculiar, confused look.

"I need you to keep tonight's events absolutely secret," Dumbledore turned to Hagrid and Dobby. "Nothing else happened besides Greyback and one of his accomplices attacking, and us capturing Viktor. Understood?"

Hagrid nodded heavily; Dobby, in his squeaky voice, promised, "Dobby will keep the secret, sir!"

"Very good," Dumbledore's voice returned to its usual gentle tone. "Hagrid, take Viktor back to the castle first and hand him over to Minerva. I'll contact the Ministry of Magic tomorrow."

Hagrid nodded, roughly pulling the dazed Viktor along, and strode towards the castle. Dumbledore was about to turn away when Snape suddenly spoke, "Wait, Professor. Dobby and I have something else to do."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, stepping aside without objection. Snape let Nagini slither out from his sleeve.

"Engorgio!" he said, pointing at the small snake. Nagini's body quickly swelled, returning to her original twelve-foot length. She raised her head, resting it on Snape's shoulder, her forked tongue lightly brushing his cheek.

"Dobby," Snape beckoned the house-elf, "come here."

Dobby looked at Nagini fearfully, his tennis-ball-sized eyes wide with terror, but he trembled as he approached.

"Your job is to look after Nagini, this snake," Snape said directly. "She is my friend. You need to get food for her from the Hogwarts kitchens—" He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded slightly in agreement.

"—And, you need to talk to her often, about anything, just chat." he said. "Also, if anything seems wrong with Nagini, you must come and tell me immediately, understand?"

"D-Dobby understands, sir," Dobby nodded nervously, his eyes darting between Nagini and Snape. "But—why can't Miss Snake stay in the castle?"

"The forest suits her better," Snape said, gently stroking Nagini's head. He then turned to Nagini, making a series of hissing sounds. Nagini responded, her head bobbing up and down. Dumbledore watched quietly from the side, a thoughtful glint in his blue eyes.

"She agrees; I think she likes it here," Snape told Dobby. "You can get closer, let Nagini get used to your scent. She won't harm you."

Dobby trembled as he extended a thin finger, gently touching Nagini's scales. The house-elf visibly relaxed when he realized the large snake wasn't attacking him.

"Good," Snape nodded, smiling. "Dobby, isn't this Galleon a bit hard-earned?"

"It's nothing," Dobby shook his head, his large ears flapping. "Dobby is happy to serve Professor Snape."

"You don't have to stay with Nagini all day, either," Snape added. "You can have your own time."

Dobby nodded again, looking much more relaxed this time. He cautiously approached Nagini, beginning to introduce himself in his high-pitched voice. Nagini tilted her head curiously, seeming quite interested in this talking little creature.

Snape took one last look at Nagini before walking towards the castle with Dumbledore.