“Invented by Damocles Belby,” Harry read, pointing at the words as he stared intently at the book, “the Wolfsbane Potion relieves the symptoms of lycanthropy in the werewolf, allowing one to hold on to their mental faculties after transformation and thus retain their human consciousness while in animalistic form, rendering the otherwise dangerous beast into an ordinary wolf.”

            Harry frowned at the page, looking over at a picture of the potion boiling in a cauldron. Under the picture was a list of the ingredients required to brew the potion, and Harry studied the list, glancing back and forth between the list and the text which explained how to brew the potion. He had never excelled in Potions class, but this was his answer to staying sane and keeping his friends safe from himself. He had to find a way to brew the potion within the next week as after that, it would be the week leading up to the full moon. He would have to come up with a Plan B if he couldn’t figure out the potion. Which, with his skills, was highly likely to happen.

            However, he would do his best. He reread the ingredients once more, then looked at how they were used in the potion. Boil the juice of two mandrake leaves. Add in exactly seventeen wolfsbane leaves and allow them to steep in a simmer for two hours at exactly ninety-six degrees Celsius. The temperature cannot rise or fall in those two hours. Okay, that might be a bit of a challenge.

            Harry bit his lip as he read on. After adding three drops of dragon’s blood, return the cauldron to a boil and wait three minutes before adding—

            “There you are!” Minerva McGonagall’s voice snapped from above him.

            Harry’s head snapped up to see his head of house’s furious look. She was standing in front of the table he was sitting at with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

            “Did you not receive my message at breakfast this morning?” McGonagall asked.

            Harry winced. He had received her note about reporting to his office after his morning classes and before lunch, he had simply ignored. He was sure he knew what she wanted to discuss.

            “I received it, Professor,” Harry said.

            “Then why, pray tell, are you here in the library and not in my office long after you should have been?”

            “I . . .” Harry fought for a reasonable explanation, “I forgot you said before lunch.”

            “Where are your glasses?” McGonagall asked suddenly.

            “They were hurting my eyes. I took them off.”

            In truth, he had not worn his glasses in days. He found he really didn’t need them anymore, which honestly wasn’t the worst change he was experiencing.

            “All the more reason to see Madam Pomfrey,” McGonagall said.

            “Well, I don’t mind, really.”

            McGonagall rolled her eyes and motioned for Harry to follow her. Harry abandoned the books at the table and swung his bag over his shoulder before following his teacher out of the library.

He tried to put on a neutral face as if this trek didn’t bother him in the least, but his bravado was falling the closer they walked toward the infirmary. She wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that that was where she was leading him. What if they locked him up somewhere far away from Hogwarts when they saw the bites? What if he was expelled from Hogwarts for being out after curfew and nearly exposing Remus’s secret? There were so many what ifs that Harry managed to consider a hundred nerve wracking scenarios in the time it took to ascend one floor, and his heart was racing in his chest while his breathing came heavy. They were just one flight of stairs away from the infirmary, and Harry froze.

“Professor McGonagall,” Harry said, “I really need to use the loo.”

“I’m sure it can wait until we are at the infirmary,” McGonagall said.

“No, it’s urgent. I didn’t want to waste any study time before classes and didn’t get a chance to go after lunch and I really need to go now.”

McGonagall turned annoyed eyes on Harry and stared him down. Harry did his best to look desperate by crossing his legs and giving the professor a pleading look. It seemed to work as McGonagall sighed and pointed at the nearby boys’ restroom.

“Very well,” she said, “but be quick. I do not want to keep Madam Pomfrey waiting any more than she already has for your health check-up.”

“Thank you,” Harry muttered before rushing to the restroom.

Inside, Harry raced to a sink and leaned against it heavily, taking several slow deep breaths to calm his heart and ease his mind. He was visibly shaking as he gripped the countertop, and he looked up in the mirror to see his unruly hair a bit wet from his sweat. He was sure McGonagall thought all of this was due to his need for the loo, and he was okay with her thinking that. It didn’t seem like she knew anything else.

 Which made Harry wonder who did know. This whole health check thing was surely in search of a bitten student, wasn’t it? At least Madam Pomfrey had to know so she wasn’t surprised when she found the marks. The headmaster would have to know as well. Remus was either sacked or he left of his own accord, and the reason behind either would have been disclosed to the headmaster. Was that all who knew?

“Mr. Potter, no dillydallying,” McGonagall called into the loo. “We are on a tight schedule, and you have classes starting up.”

Harry winced and looked around the loo, as if hoping an escape might pop up in front of him. He could not be exposed. Not yet. If he could brew the potion, he wouldn’t be a threat to anyone. His plan just had to work. He had to stay in the school as long as possible. He would not be sent away.

Harry set his bag down and unzipped it. He dug through it and found his invisibility cloak. Pulling out the silky fabric, he threw his bag on and covered himself with it, disappearing under the garment. Slowly, he walked out of the loo, tiptoeing past McGonagall, who was tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. Carefully, Harry slowly walked down the closest set of stairs before running away as fast as he could, headed for his next class.

Sure, the professors could find him again and pull him out of class at any time, but he had at least delayed the visit for now.

            Severus was not surprised to hear that Harry was evading his professors. He scoffed at McGonagall’s story of how Harry disappeared on her when she had been delivering him to the infirmary. The headmaster had informed all the professors now that Harry had missed his health check and was required to go to the infirmary. Everyone was to try to catch the little brat and take him there if they felt they had a chance to do so. However, Harry made sure to sit as far back in the classroom as possible, and he rushed out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, ignoring anything the professors said, his friends running after him every time with confused looks.

            Even Severus’s class that Thursday, Harry was far back in the classroom, his friends reluctantly sitting next to him, though Granger looked very put out at sitting in the back.

            “Potter,” Severus said at the start of his class, “stay after class.”

            Harry didn’t acknowledge that he heard anything.

            Severus really didn’t expect to have any luck where the other professors had failed. As soon as the bell rang, Harry was out of his classroom before any other student, ignoring Severus shouting his name. Severus rolled his eyes but did not pursuit the little brat. He would be caught in due time. If the headmaster did not take active measures the week of the full moon, he would. He of all people knew how dangerous werewolves were.

            At the next staff meeting, the professors discussed Harry’s evasive behavior. McGonagall even confessed to trying to pull Harry from his dorm, but he had managed to disappear on her again before she could even announce why she was in the common room. Madam Pince explained how often Harry was in the library scanning through book after book, and even she tried to alert a few professors to his presence in an attempt to catch him, but he was always long gone before a professor could arrive. Severus frowned at that piece of information.

            When Albus arrived, he explained that the Ministry had a timeline set for when all the health exams had to be completed, and that they were nearing the end of that deadline. Harry needed to report to the infirmary, and if force had to be used, then the professors were to do so the next time they saw Harry. The professors agreed, and at the end of their meeting, everyone bid each other goodnight, leaving one by one until only Severus and Albus remained.

            “Where is the wolf?” Severus asked. Lupin had disappeared earlier that day.

            “He left for the next week. Tomorrow starts the seven days leading up to the full moon.”

            Severus let out a deep sigh. Playing nice with Harry had allowed this to go on too far. They needed to contain that child now.

            “I fear,” Albus added, “that Harry may be using his invisibility cloak to hide from us.”

            “He has an invisibility cloak?” Severus growled. His eyes glinted in remembrance. “James Potter’s invisibility cloak?”

            “I gave it to Harry in his first year. After all, it is rightfully his heirloom.”

            “He was eleven years old, Albus! What did you think he would use it for?”

            “Perhaps I was hasty in wanting to return something of his parents to him.”

            “Perhaps!? The last thing we need right now is an invisible werewolf.”

            “I know. We need to bring Harry to the infirmary before the night of the full moon. He has avoided all of us and refuses to answer any of our letters. I believe he is afraid of what we may do to him. He needs reassurances that we mean no harm and only wish to help him through this traumatic change in his life. I will try to find him myself. Maybe he will listen to me in person, where I can talk him through his fears.”

            Severus closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to force the image of an invisible werewolf rampaging through the halls of Hogwarts out of his mind. Once he occluded that thought away, he opened his eyes.  

            “I am missing a few ingredients from my private storeroom.”

            Albus’s brows shot up.

            “Is that so? Which ones?”  

            “An occamy egg, premade mandrake juice, a moonstone, and most recently, wolfsbane leaves. I wasn’t sure if it was Potter at first, but the last bit of ingredients taken last night changed my mind. And he’s been in the library a lot. He is researching his condition.”

            “And hoping to make the potion, it would seem.” Albus tapped his chin thoughtfully.

            “He will fail,” Severus said. “Wolfsbane is beyond finicky and volatile. He won’t make it past the first two steps. It took me three attempts to get the process down correctly.”

            “Does he need something else?” Albus asked.

            “He’s probably grabbed a few other ingredients from the classroom supply closet. The only thing I do not keep there is the Syrup of Hellebore as it is extremely poisonous. It’s the only thing he has not taken yet, probably due to the fact that I keep it locked up in the back of the closet.”

            “What do you suggest we do, Severus?”

            “We know what Potter is after. I suggest we give him exactly what he wants.”

            Harry followed the map down to Severus’s private storeroom once again in complete darkness, his eyes giving him an advantage with his newfound night vision. This was the final night he could attempt to make the Wolfsbane Potion. He had mocked practiced the movements while trying to collect all the ingredients he needed throughout the last week. The Syrup of Hellebore was the only thing he was missing, and he could not find the damn thing in the closet anywhere. Surely Remus had been taking the potion throughout most of the year, there had to be a supply of the syrup somewhere, or even the plant itself. He could milk the syrup out of the plant if he needed to. But he had to make the potion now and take a dose before midnight, which was only five hours away.

            Otherwise, Plan B would be escaping into the Forbidden Forest as far away as possible from Hogwarts. He remembered hearing rumors of werewolves living in the forest, though he had never personally seen them in all his misadventures. It was the best he could come up with at the moment. He still had seven days until the dreadful night came, and while he was fighting all levels of panic and anxiety, he had managed to stay clear of all the professors and even the headmaster. He might just get away with hiding what he had become.

            Harry came to the storeroom and pulled out his wand, ready to unlock the door. However, he paused when he noticed the door was already opened the slightest bit. The hair on the back of Harry’s neck rose and he glanced around. He didn’t see or smell anyone, oddly enough that was something he could do now, and when he looked down at the map, he didn’t see any names near the storeroom. Maybe he had left the door open last time. He would have to be more careful.

            He folded the map and shoved it in his robe pocket before he slipped into the storeroom and began scanning the shelves for the Syrup of Hellebore. He had to believe that he was going to find it tonight. Perhaps if he wished it enough, he might finally come across it.

            One by one, ingredient after ingredient, potion after potion, Harry went through every shelf and nearly snarled in frustration when he did not see the ingredient he desperately needed. As he walked past the back end of the shelves, he froze, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening.

            There, in a blue hourglass shaped vial, clearly labeled in Severus’s sharp script, was a Wolfsbane Potion.

            Harry’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest. They were definitely on to him. They were luring him into a trap. But that was exactly the potion he needed. And it was right in front of him. All he had to do was take it.

            With shaky hands, he reached for the potion, slowly picking it up off the shelf. He brought it to his nose, popping off the cork and inhaling the scent.

            Repulsive. Nauseating. Weakening.

            As Wolfsbane should be. There was a strong hint of horseradish scent among the vile magic working its way through his system from the smell alone, and Harry knew that this was Wolfsbane for sure. And he threw back the vial and downed the potion before checking the shelf for more. If he could find six more, he would be set for the week and wouldn’t need to bother attempting to brew something he would probably just fail at.

            But there were no more potions. As he felt around the back of the shelf in case they were hiding behind other vials, arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side and dragging him out of the storeroom.

            “Ahh!” Harry cried out in surprise before thrashing around in his captor’s grip, kicking and writhing. He saw a glimpse of familiar black robes and he struggled harder. “Snape! Let me go!”

            “Enough of that,” Severus hissed in his ear. “I daresay you’ve caused enough trouble for everyone. We are going to the infirmary at once to have you looked over and then locked up like the wolf you are.”

            “No, please,” Harry pleaded as he tried to wrench his arms free. He kept throwing his weight every which way to try to unsteady the potions master as the man tried to drag him down the hall, and he kicked at Severus’s shins as well. He would not go down like this. He couldn’t be expelled for something he couldn’t control. And most importantly, he did not want to be locked up like a monster, even if he knew he was becoming one.

            “Stop it, Potter,” Severus snapped at him. “I am not against hexing you if it means an easier trip to the hospital wing.”

            Afraid Severus might follow through on his threat, Harry did the only thing he could think of.

            He bit down on the arm encircled around him.

            Severus cussed loudly as he yanked his arm away, and Harry was ably to jerk out of Severus’s grip and run down the hall as fast as he could, pulling out his invisibility cloak and disappearing under it.

            Severus did not chase after Harry. His plan had not worked quite as well as he had hoped but at least it did confirm his and the headmaster’s suspicion: Harry was the new werewolf. Severus pulled up his sleeve and looked at his arm. He had felt the pinch of teeth and nearly panicked, but Harry had not even left a mark. Which was good—in the week up to the full moon, a werewolf’s saliva starts producing more of the protein needed for transformation, as well as transferring the disease. With all the research Harry had done, he would have known that. He had not intended to puncture, just startle. However, it was not a comforting thought that Harry had been so willing to bite just to get away.

            Still, Harry had taken the bait. He would need more of the Wolfsbane Potion now that he had lost his chance of finding the last ingredient to attempt brewing his own, which he would fail at anyway. Severus had the upper hand now. If Harry wanted more doses, he would have to come directly to Severus. And Severus knew Harry would want more. If Albus was right about anything, it was that Harry would not endanger his friends intentionally.

            All Severus had to do was wait for Harry to appear for the next dose.