A/N: I am very sorry for the lateness of this new chapter - I hope it is satisfactory, but please keep in mind that I wrote it in a hurry...I'll take more time for the story soon! Thank-you to all the people who reviewed/faved or added this story to their alerts...you shall be rewarded XD
NOISE.
Noise that irritated him, and chafed at his ear-drums.
The whining hum of Albus and Hermione's hushed voices.
Noise that permeated all his senses, until his already-raw nerves buzzed painfully.
He positioned his trembling fingers at his temples in a feeble attempt to ward off the serpentine coils of a sickening migraine, and the dark and tormenting memories of what had just happened.
NO. He would not face it, face what he had tried to do to himself, free himself of the groping, festering paws that bound him – struggling – to life.
He stifled a moan at the shrill whistling of the tea-kettle that Albus had oh-so-thoughtfully set at the fire-
-tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-
-what new torment was this? His nails bit at the skin of his temples, clawed their way through his hair, leaving livid stripes in their wake-
-tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-
-he winced at the incessant tapping noise as Hermione distractedly struck the tip of her wand against her thigh.
Hermione…oh, gods, Hermione, what had she done, what had he let her do??
He stuffed his knuckles into his mouth, muffling the sob that threatened to escape…
…oh gods what had she seen?
The shrieking of the kettle gouged at his mind, flaying open the part of himself that he would not – could not – see, without horror rising, sending icy needles down his spine, clenching his gut till he tasted bile at the back of his throat.
The part of himself that lay whimpering, pitiful, naked, and raw against the onslaught of his own, personal, hell.
The part of himself that could not recover from the shock of the grievous harm, done to his body, mind and soul. Worst of all, the knowledge that he had done this to himself.
He keened, mentally, as the screeching kettle reached a climax…the high-pitched scream that never, ever seemed to STOP-
-screaming, screaming,
Blood boiled in his head, a dull thud, thud, thud, thud, as everything was muted – except for THAT scream…
"ENOUGH!" he roared hoarsely, realising at the horrified expressions on the faces of Hermione and Albus that the kettle had stopped boiling long ago – and he was the one screaming.
"ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH!"
He reached the fireplace within two inhuman strides, snatching up the kettle, and dashing it against the wall of empty vials, potion bottles and jars, the almighty SMASH masking Professor Dumbledore's murmured "stupefy."
Severus sank to the floor and knew no more.
"My poor boy, oh gods, what have I done to you?" Professor Dumbledore whispered in anguish.