Misfortune, thy name is Severus

Chapter 5

Snape was fed up. After collecting what they could find of the supplies – which wasn't much – he and McGonagall, at her insistence of course, had spend a number of hours wandering about, poking into every nook and cranny of the forest that they could find, calling for Potter and Malfoy. Needless to say there had been no answer. Snape was all for giving up two hours ago but the deputy headmistress was adamant.

"We will not leave this forest until we find those boys!"

"And what if we don't find them? Do we take to the wild and become savages? We can't live here, McGonagall, we have to return to the school and report this unfortunate…accident." She sighed in frustration.

"Only when we are absolutely certain that Harry and Draco are not to be found."

"What about when our week is up? Dumbledore will wonder where we are. We can't search every inch of the forest by ourselves. We should go back and fetch help." Let someone else do the bloody searching he thought bitterly. This was the most dignified and restrained argument the two had had for a long time, but it continued through the day and well into their second night in the forest. Eventually Snape threw himself down on a patch of grass, slumped against a tree, and refused to go any further.

"What are you doing?" McGonagall demanded. Snape peered up at her through his greasy hair.

"I am sitting here. I am staying here. You carry on if you want to."

"But the boys…"

"It's pitch black, freezing cold, we have very little in the way of food or water, no torches, no tents or blankets. This area seems safe and hidden. There is plenty of cover from the trees above. It would be more comfortable to spend the night here than going further into the forest. And besides which…" Snape paused significantly as a vague rustling could be heard from somewhere beyond the trees, following by a growling noise, "there are…things."

"Things again!" McGonagall muttered, throwing herself down beside Snape in irritation. "What are these things you keep going on about?"

"I don't keep going on about them. But you realise that there are monsters in this forest, many of them unknown and few of them friendly. And most particularly…"

"What, for heaven’s sake?"

"…"

"What? I didn't hear you."

"WEREWOLVES!" roared Snape. "Werewolves, all right? There are werewolves in this forest and I do not wish to come across one of them." McGonagall groaned.

"Not werewolves again! You and your werewolf problem."

"It is not a problem. I simply dislike them, which I think is quite a reasonable approach. Nasty, hairy, fangy…things." McGonagall sighed.

"Very well, very well. We'll stop here for the night."

"And look for a way out of the forest in the morning," he held up a hand as she began to protest. "It's the best thing for the boys, you must know that. A proper search party would be far more efficient. The two of us stumbling through underbrush and getting lost is hardly likely to help them. You surely see the logic of my arguments? It's only your compassion for Potter and Malfoy that makes you stay here." He had spoken the word 'compassion' with a decided sneer, feeling he was insulting her, but McGonagall was staring at him oddly. After a moment she dropped her gaze and murmured,

"Thank you." Snape frowned, shrugged and decided to let it pass. He settled back against the tree, preparing for a long, grim, cold night, filled only with the prospect of werewolves…and then, a rare happy thought struck him.