The Forbidden Forest echoed with Greyback's ominous roar, and three werewolves, compelled by his presence, lunged from the thickets, closing in on Snape once more. Among them, Viktor, the traitor, led the charge, his yellow fangs gleaming menacingly.
"Duck!" Hagrid's voice boomed from behind Snape.
He instinctively dropped to the ground. The colossal crossbow hummed as its string vibrated, and a thick oak arrow whistled over his head, embedding itself deep into Viktor's abdomen.
Viktor whimpered, attempting to dodge, but Greyback's spell held him rooted in place.
"Good job, Hagrid!" Snape yelled, simultaneously rolling to the side to evade Greyback's second green curse. Standing still and foolishly spinning, hoping to Apparate away, was certainly not a wise choice in such a moment.
The Killing Curse slammed into a beech tree behind him, the trunk exploding instantly, scattering splinters everywhere.
"Run, little mouse!" Greyback cackled, his voice grating. "The more you run, the tastier you'll be later! Let's see how fast a Hogwarts student can run!"
Just then, a dark shadow erupted from the pile of fallen leaves; Nagini's venomous fangs precisely struck the nearest werewolf's calf.
Amidst the screams, Snape seized the opportunity to unleash three Killing Curses, their green light cutting dangerous paths through the darkness.
Two enemies fell instantly, but the third—Viktor, the traitor—managed to dodge the curse with a swift slide.
"A snake?" Greyback exclaimed, raising his wand in surprise. "Avada—"
Nagini slithered swiftly across the damp ground, coiling around Greyback's arm before he could react.
"Get off!" Greyback roared, shaking his arm violently. Nagini was flung aside, crashing into a tree trunk, letting out a pained hiss.
Distracted, Greyback's curse went wide, and he then ferociously pointed his wand at Nagini.
Snape's heart tightened, and a curse burst from his wand: "Sectumsempra!"
An invisible blade sliced across Greyback's chest. The werewolf cried out in pain, but then, to Snape's astonishment, the wound forcibly mended itself, stopping the bleeding.
"Aren't you a Hogwarts student?" Greyback gasped. "Why don't you consider joining us? The Dark Lord can give you everything you desire—power, status, knowledge—"
Snape merely narrowed his eyes, the tip of his wand emitting blinding green light. He didn't need anything from Tom. Why would he become Tom's dog when he could remain a perfectly good human?
Greyback dodged continuously with astonishing speed, all the while emitting a piercing laugh. "Look at you, so skilled with the Unforgivable Curses. Does Dumbledore know his students are like this?"
Snape simply anticipated Greyback's landing spots, continuing to fire curses.
Suddenly, a faint pop echoed in the air. Dobby had returned with Dumbledore, and also that formidable young witch, Lyra Luper, who had left not long ago.
The green light illuminated Dumbledore's face. He looked at Snape in surprise, a complex emotion flickering in his crescent moon-shaped glasses.
"Professor!" Snape called out.
Greyback dodged another Killing Curse. Seeing Dumbledore, his face instantly changed, and he turned and vanished behind a tree. Viktor, sensing danger, tried to follow him.
"Avada—" Snape quickly fired a curse at them, but then realized Dumbledore was there and changed his wand movement. "Wingardium Leviosa—and Colloportus!"
Viktor floated lightly into the air, then was violently slammed to the ground, leaving a crater in the mud.
With a soft pop, Greyback still managed to escape, vanishing without a trace.
Snape let out a long breath. He looked at Nagini, the small snake slowly crawling towards him, seemingly injured.
He crouched down, letting Nagini climb onto his arm, carefully examining her wounds.
"That snake—" Hagrid had also noticed Nagini's performance in the battle and looked at Snape with curiosity.
"She's my friend," Snape quickly said, stroking the snake's head and softly incanting a healing spell. Nagini let out a comfortable hiss and disappeared back into his robes.
"Professor, you're finally here!" Snape then greeted Dumbledore warmly, as if the person who had been wildly firing Killing Curses moments ago wasn't him. "We almost didn't see you again."
As he spoke, he casually cast a Sectumsempra at the unconscious Viktor, but Dumbledore waved his hand, blocking it. A rope shot from Dumbledore's wand tip, firmly binding Viktor.
"If I hadn't come," Dumbledore's gaze settled on Snape, "I fear there wouldn't have been a single person left standing, except for you."
"Oh, how could that be?" Snape said, pointing at Viktor. "He's still alive, isn't he? I merely used a Levitation Charm on him—"
"We must hurry to the camp!" Lyra interrupted their conversation, her face etched with anxiety. "My companions are still there!" Her voice trembled, her amber eyes filled with worry.
"Professor, please take me along to see," Snape said to Dumbledore. He hadn't been to the werewolf camp in the Forbidden Forest before, so he couldn't go alone yet.
"Hagrid, you and Dobby keep an eye on the area." Dumbledore nodded, then extended his arms. "Hold on tight."
Snape and Lyra each took one of Dumbledore's arms. After a suffocating squeeze, they appeared in a hidden clearing deep within the Forbidden Forest.
A gruesome sight greeted them. The werewolf camp—once a settlement of crude tents and wooden huts—was now a ruin. Tents were ripped to shreds, the ground was covered in bloodstains and signs of struggle, and several campfires still smoldered, emitting wisps of smoke.
Several werewolf bodies lay on the ground in twisted postures; the air was thick with the smell of blood and a wild, musky scent.
Lyra let out an inhuman wail, collapsing and scrambling forward, kneeling beside the nearest body. It was an older male werewolf, his chest torn open, his eyes still wide, frozen in their final terror.
"Uncle Norton—" She knelt beside him, her trembling fingers tracing his pale cheek. "No... no..."
She moved to another body, a young female werewolf, her golden hair stained dark with blood. "Mara—"
Snape calmly surveyed the surroundings, counting—at least seven bodies, and several more werewolves still breathing, all with varying degrees of injury.
He walked towards the nearest injured person, an older male werewolf with a dreadful gash across his abdomen.
"Don't move," Snape said curtly, drawing his wand and beginning to cast healing spells.
"I'm so sorry, my dear," Dumbledore said, walking over to Lyra and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is a pain no one should have to bear."
"Why did they do this?" Lyra looked up, her eyes burning with pure hatred. "We just wanted to live in peace! We never harmed anyone—"
"Mara is dead, Norton is dead, Karl is dead—" Her voice choked, her hands clenching into fists, her nails digging deeply into her palms.
"What good is crying?" Snape continued his healing work without looking up. "You'd be better off eliminating a few more enemies."
"What am I supposed to do?" Lyra whirled on him, screaming. "We don't have wands, and as werewolves, we can't control ourselves after transformation! We can't even get revenge—" Her voice trailed off.
Dumbledore sighed. "Violence only breeds more violence, Lyra. Revenge isn't the solution. You still have living people to care for."
Snape merely snorted but didn't argue. He finished the basic treatment for the last injured werewolf, then stood up, dusting off his robes.
Today's experience reminded him of something from Albania. From that old hag who experimented on werewolves, he had acquired a yellowed parchment and a necklace with a blood-red canine tooth.
Snape pulled out a small pouch from his robes and took out the parchment and necklace.
As soon as he produced them, Dumbledore's keen gaze fell on his hand. "Severus, what is that? It carries the scent of dark magic."
"I know it's dark magic," Snape nodded, answering calmly. "Last summer, in the Albanian forest, I met an old witch. She used this to control werewolves. I saw her make a werewolf transform into a wolf outside of the full moon."
He briefly explained how he had obtained the items.
"I also saw her control werewolves with a strange song," Snape said, holding up the parchment. "Unfortunately, that song isn't recorded on the parchment. But from the notes here, it describes a method that allows werewolves to transform outside of the full moon."
"Furthermore," Snape paused, adding, "Professor, I'm sure you've also noticed the Wolfsbane Potion mentioned in the Daily Prophet. It allows werewolves to retain their minds during transformation. Perhaps we could try to improve upon it."
"Are you saying—" Lyra's eyes lit up, and she practically lunged at Snape. "If this is true—controlling transformation—staying conscious during transformation—"
"Not so fast," Snape stepped back, looking at her meaningfully. "Theoretically, yes. This could give you the ability for revenge. However, this method isn't perfected yet. To advance it, more experiments might be needed, which means more werewolf volunteers."
"Severus, this is not advisable," Dumbledore frowned. "These survivors have endured too much; they need healing and sanctuary, not more pain."
"I volunteer!" Lyra said eagerly before Snape could speak. "Please give us the parchment."
"Professor, it seems Lyra has made her choice," Snape said, looking at Dumbledore. "Even if I don't give it to her now, I believe she'll come looking for me later."
Dumbledore removed his glasses, wearily rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"However, I cannot give this to you so easily, because it's far too dangerous," Snape turned to Lyra, continuing. "If it were to fall into the Dark Lord's hands, it would be enough for him to create a werewolf army."
"If it means revenge, I'll do anything!" Lyra declared.
"If you'll do anything," Snape said, "then I require you to make an Unbreakable Vow. If Professor Dumbledore is willing, he can be the Bonder."
"Professor, please," Lyra's tears welled up again. She pointed to Mara's body, sobbing to Dumbledore, "She—she was once a Healer at St. Mungo's, but she became a werewolf after being deliberately bitten by a patient. Before coming here, she would always lock herself in the basement during the full moon, afraid of harming anyone. Greyback just killed her like that—I have no other choice—"
Dumbledore's gaze swept across the camp, Lyra, Snape, and finally settled on the rolled parchment. He remained silent for a long time, so long that Snape thought he would refuse.
Finally, he nodded heavily. "If this is your mutual choice—though I do not endorse it, I can bear witness."
Lyra let out a sigh of relief, then walked resolutely towards Snape, looking into his eyes. "As long as I can have revenge, I'll make any vow."
Snape extended his hand, and Lyra gripped his right hand. He could feel a slight tremor in her palm, yet her grip was firm.
Dumbledore drew his wand, stepped forward, and stood beside them, placing the tip of his wand on their clasped hands.
Snape spoke.
"Lyra Luper, upon receiving the parchment and necklace regarding werewolf transformation, do you swear to keep this knowledge strictly confidential and to keep it solely in your possession?"
"I do," Lyra answered without hesitation.
A thin, brilliant jet of fire shot from the wand, like a hot, red wire, wrapping around their clasped hands.
"Do you swear that you will, at no time, stand against Severus Snape—that is, myself—and that you will not be his enemy?"
Dumbledore's wand trembled slightly. Lyra looked at him, then nodded gently.
"I do," Lyra said.
A second jet of fire erupted from the wand, intertwining with the first, forming a thin, glowing red chain. Dumbledore's brow furrowed even deeper, but he did not remove his wand.
"And," Snape murmured, his dark eyes fixed on Lyra's amber ones, carefully choosing his words, "unless it involves clear and intentional malice directed at you, do you swear to do your utmost to obey Severus Snape's commands and complete any legitimate tasks he assigns you?"
Lyra's hand trembled in his, but she did not pull away. Dumbledore's gaze was sharp, watching them, especially Snape, his wand suspended over their clasped hands, as if considering whether the ceremony should end there.
"I do," Lyra finally said, taking a deep breath.
Their faces were flushed red by the light of the third jet of fire. It shot from the wand, intertwining with the previous two, tightly coiling around their clasped hands like a rope, like a fiery serpent.
The light gradually faded, and the vow was complete.