Death Wish

Chapter 3

It was good to know that all those years spent mentally preparing himself for the torture he would endure if his spy cover was blown had not been wasted. All in all he thought it could have been much worse. Evidently anyone stupid enough to be caught lurking around the Dark Lord's stronghold couldn't possibly hold any information that was all that useful. Snape recognized a session of light torture when he saw it, even if Macnair was one of the few wizards he knew who liked to combine physical beatings with spells during torture sessions.

But light torture was still torture, and by the time Snape was thrown unceremoniously into a dank dungeon cell, he was weak and weary from the pain. As the metal gate locked magically behind him and his captor's footsteps faded down the hallway, Snape crawled into a corner of the cell, eager for a chance at peace and quiet. He had been tossed from place to place for the last day and needed time to collect his thoughts. Why had he been thrown into this universe? How would he return to a world where everything was back to normal? And most of all, why did everyone in this bloody universe seem to forget who he was?

It was clear to him that this was more than just some convoluted dream. But what had triggered the shift in reality? He pressed himself to remember the last time when things had been normal. He had been drinking far too much firewhiskey, he knew that for sure, and he had been pondering the less pleasant parts of his life. There had been something strange... a blinding flash of white light. What had caused it?

The talisman, Snape realized suddenly. That strange trinket that the Dark Lord had given him must have brought him here. How else could he explain its mysterious disappearance and reappearance in the possession of Weasley? Had this been a part of his master's plan?

No, it was impossible that the Dark Lord-- so carefully calculating-- could have counted on Snape to accidentally activate the talisman in his drunkenness. Something else had thrown him into this strange place where no one seemed to know who he was. Something of his own doing...

I wish I had never existed.

The thought appeared unbidden in his mind, and suddenly he understood. He had thought that the world would be a better place if he had never set foot in it, and the blasted talisman must have granted his wish by throwing him into some alternate reality in which he had never existed.

If he never existed, then he never betrayed the Potters' location to Voldemort, so the entire family was still alive and well.

If he never existed, then Dumbledore should still be alive, running the resistance somewhere, pushing back the Dark Lord's forces.

That was two huge points in favor of this universe. If the world was trying to convince him that he had been helpful after all, it was doing a rather poor job of it.

He gave a hollow, humorless laugh. What good was it to show him this universe?

"Going mad on your first day, mate?" said an irritatingly familiar voice from the other side of the cell, "That's not a good sign."

Oh bloody hell, Snape thought to himself. Could this day get any worse? He squinted carefully through the darkness across the cell and to his absolute disgust, saw that the owner of the voice was indeed who he dreaded.

Well, that was point number three for this universe, Snape thought to himself, Sirius Black was rotting away in a dungeon. The world was indeed a happier place.

He didn't have the energy to pick a fight with Black, so out loud he simply said, "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"Just trying to hold it together," Black admitted. "I'm not doing too well myself. It doesn't get any easier, only more difficult."

Well thanks, he would never have suspected that getting tortured every day made life more difficult. What wonderful powers of observation Black had.

A few moments of silence passed before Black broke them by shuffling over to Snape's corner.

"I'm Sirius," he said unnecessarily, offering his hand expectantly.

Perhaps it was something about being introduced on first name terms or the idiot's sheer persistence that struck Snape. In any case he took the proffered hand and shook it briefly, grunting "Severus," in reply.

"So Severus, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" asked Black, casually leaning against the wall as though they were not mortal enemies or, at the very least, not two random people doomed to rot away in the Dark Lord's prison.

Snape heaved a heavy sigh. He knew from experience that pissing Black off could only lead to a more annoying cell mate. Better to make conversation now, even if it physically pained him to do so.

"I was caught lurking outside the grounds," Snape answered shortly.

"Smooth move," Black said. "What on earth possessed you to do that?"

"I was recently thrown into this universe from an alternate one in which Hogwarts was still a stronghold of the Order of the Phoenix. In fact, your entire universe here is hinged on the fact that I, as a spy for the Order, never existed."

It was worth telling the truth just to see the confused look on Black's face as he blinked stupidly in the dark, trying to digest all this information.

"You really won't last long if the first day addles your brains this badly," Black finally replied.

Snape shrugged, what did he care if Black thought he was crazy?

"You're not a spy for the Order," Black said, with the unmistakable air of trying to convince a small child of something obvious.

"How would you know?"

"I'm in the Order and I've never seen you before."

Snape sighed. Some people just never give up.

"Someone will come get us out of here soon," Black promised reassuringly. "I have friends and a daughter out there looking for a way to get me out, and I'm sure people are looking for you too."

Not likely in a universe where he didn't exist, and what was this about a daughter? Black had reproduced in this world? Well, that was certainly a point against this universe. Maybe the world was better off with him after all. He had delivered them from the terror of Sirius Black, Part II.

"That's nice. I'm tired," Snape said shortly.

Black nodded and scooted away a bit to give Snape room to spread out. The last thought to cross Snape's mind before he fell asleep was that sharing a cell with Black was definitely going to be more torturous than anything Macnair could cook up.

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It was like holding a normal job, Snape mused. He was woken up by some Death Eater in the morning, put through his paces throughout the day with healthy doses of the Cruciatus curse as well as the more traditional beating and slicing methods for flair, then dispensed back in his cell by the end of the day. He suspected that there may have simply been too many prisoners for the Dark Lord to have the manpower to be constantly interrogating all of them.

Luckily, it didn't appear that he would be executed any time soon because he was unlikely to give up the information that the Dark Lord assumed he had. It was much easier to keep secrets when he didn't have any to divulge. Where was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix? Well, he had no clue. Who had sent him? No one. He had figured out how to wander into this hell-hole of a former school all by himself.

He was thrown back into his cell late into the next evening. Black was already there, huddled in the same corner he had been the previous night. This time, Snape was more than just a little shaky. He struggle to pull himself into a vaguely upright position and lean against the wall for support.

"I saved you some food," Black said. He held out his hand, where he was clutching a slice of stale bread, half of the standard meal that Snape had eaten earlier, but vomited up in the closing minutes of his torture session.

For a brief moment, Snape considered refusing the offer. He didn't need Black's hospitality. He could manage just fine on his own. He didn't need anyone's pity, least of all someone who had tormented him all through school.

But this Black had no signs of ill-intent in his eyes. There wasn't even the pity that Snape had expected to see. Something about the earnestness of Black's demeanor struck Snape, and he reluctantly held out a hand to take the bread from Black.

"Thanks," he grunted shortly.

It was only after he had shoved the slice hungrily into his mouth and swallowed without chewing that he paused to really look at Black by the dim light that leaked into the cell.

Black, it appeared, was of more interest to the Dark Lord than Snape was. Black's arms and legs were laced with deep cuts that looked as though someone had cast Sectumsempra on him multiple times but repeatedly healed him just enough to keep him from bleeding to death. The loss of blood led to a paleness that accented the half-formed bruises scattered across his bare skin. Snape could detect remnants of a violent twitching motion that Black was trying to hide, a sure sign of extended exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

Black had been taken in before Snape was awoken in the morning, and it was clear from the battered shape of his body that every minute of Black's torture had been excruciatingly painful, probably worse than Snape's own.

Black gave Snape a wan smile. "You should sleep. Rest is important to holding out."

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Snape had the pleasure of being escorted back to his cell the next evening by none other than Ron Weasley. Apparently Voldemort had given the boy a taste for macabre.

As Ron used his wand to drag Snape carelessly down the hall, Snape noticed again something around the young man's neck: the amulet. It was the key to this universe; he understood that now, and if he wanted to go back, he would have to force himself out of this prison wandless and face down one of the Dark Lord's staunchest supporters to retrieve it.

Could you be any more selfish Snape? He chastised himself as the thought of escape crossed his mind. He may be worse off in this universe, but Lily and Dumbledore were still alive. He didn't fancy facing down the legions of the Dark Lord alone on some fool's errand to return to a universe where things were probably worse anyway.

Suffer and hold your peace, Snape, he told himself. It's the least that you owe the world.

His thoughts were interrupted harshly as Weasley tossed him roughly into the cell. To his surprise, an evil smile wrought its way across Weasley's face as he gazed through the bars into the depths of the room. Before turning to leave, Weasley leaned casually on the bars of the cell and leered at Black, who was already curled up in his corner the cell.

"Well, well, look who's still alive," sneered Weasley. He paused a second to smirk dramatically before he spoke his next words. "Once we break you, I reckon I'll find that daughter of yours and have a go or two with her. She looks like a screamer."

Black jumped to his feet instantly at these words and clutched Weasley's robes through the bars. "Never talk about my daughter that way again, you bastard," he whispered venomously.

"And how do you plan on stopping me from there?" Weasley asked, unfazed. He whipped his wand carelessly, and a flash of light threw Black against the wall.

There was a sickening crunch as Black made impact and a soft groan as he slid to the floor. Weasley's maniacal laughter echoed off the stone walls as he swaggered away.

Snape knew there was a reason he had never liked that boy.

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One thing about spending your existence in a dungeon, it's difficult to keep track of how many days had gone by. Snape could count the sleep cycles, but he could never be sure if they coincided with the actual rising and setting of the sun.

"You're not crazy are you?" Black asked one night.

"Not any crazier than you are," Snape replied curtly.

"Well, some would argue that thinking you've created an alternate dimension is a sure sign that one is a bit unhinged."

Some would argue that allowing people like you to reproduce is also a sure sign of insanity, Snape thought.

"But you've done this before, this torture thing," Black continued. "You're not imbalanced or unaware. You don't mumble nonsensical things in your sleep or waste your energy impractically while you're here." Black paused and tilted his head to one side, surveying Snape thoughtfully, "You're a completely sane person who thinks he came from an alternate dimension."

"I like to think so," Snape said.

"So it's true..."

"That would be the logical conclusion, yes."

"How is it then, in your world?"

"No better than this," said Snape bitterly.

Black paused at this, evidently taken aback. But as usually happened with him, the silence didn't last long.

"I don't believe that," Black said. "The world couldn't be much worse off than it is right now."

"Not everything is about you, Black," Snape snapped. "Just because you're stuck in prison doesn't mean that the world in general is worse off."

There was another pause, this time filled with tension.

"I never told you my last name," Black finally said.

"So?"

"So you just called me 'Black', you knew me in your other world didn't you?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose."

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that we didn't really get along."

"You're not wrong."

"But I haven't done anything to you."

"Not in this world, no."

Black seemed to consider carefully what he was going to say next. "If you're really a spy for the Order, then you must have known Dumbledore pretty well."

"Yeah, so what?"

"So you should know the value of giving second chances. Dumbledore always said that everyone deserves one."

The statement hit too close to home for Snape to ignore. Black had been nothing but kind, albeit annoying, to him in this universe. If Dumbledore could give a Death Eater like him a second chance, who was he to deny Black one?

"I think you might be right," Snape said. It had never occurred to him that he would be saying those words to Sirius Black of all people.

"Anyway, this world isn't terrible just because I'm stuck in a dungeon," Black said. "We have been living under the rule of Voldemort for over twenty-five years now, and our last hope was murdered just a few months ago. The future has never looked bleaker."

"Harry Potter? I wouldn't believe all that Chosen One nonsense if I were you," Snape said sardonically.

"Harry? I was talking about Dumbledore," Black said.

"Dumbledore was murdered?" Snape asked incredulously. A horrible gut-wrenching feeling had seized his body. Was it possible that even without him, someone could have murdered Dumbledore?

"By whom?" Snape demanded.

"No one knows," Black replied sadly. "He was just found dead in his study one day. It had to have been an inside job, one of our own. There was no sign of a struggle or a forced entry."

He sighed heavily, "From there, everything fell apart. Hogwarts fell to Voldemort and his forces within a matter of days. The Order was forced into hiding. Many of us were captured trying to defend the school—"

Abruptly, Black stopped. His head snapped toward the far wall and he stared intensely at a large crack that ran down it. Snape thought he could hear a slight scratching noise from the other side of the wall in that area. Probably nothing more than a rat.

But Black seemed to think otherwise.

"Mya?" he whispered, crawling towards the wall.

"Who's Mya?" Snape asked, unnerved by Black's strange behavior.

"My daughter," Black replied absently as he reached the wall.

With a soft pop, a shaggy black dog stood where the man had once been. It placed its paws up against the wall and sniffed eagerly into the crack. Snape waited uncertainly as the dog ran its nose up and down the crevice, sniffing furiously.

Finally, Black the man reappeared. A great dog-like grin broke out over his face.

"They're coming," he said. "We're going to be free soon."