When the Strong Break

Chapter six: Denial

"Do not blame God for having created the tiger, but instead thank him for having not given it wings."

-Indian Proverb


No matter how much he was trying to pretend otherwise, Sirius Black felt guilty.

He kept trying to remind himself that Snape was dirt. A filthy, slimy snake. One that had probably tricked him for pay back. He was pure evil.

But…

There was still that niggling, nagging sensation of guilt, clinging stubbornly to his stomach, burning through his flesh, melting him from the inside out, without mercy. And there was the picture of Snape with his arms completely gored, tendons exposed, cut, layers of muscle and fat virtually sawed through. Revulsion lit fire to his throat and spilled out from between his lips into the toilet. He sighed and sat back against the cool porcelain, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth for what felt like the millionth time that day.

It was now the fourth day since he'd found Snape, and his third missing classes. He'd never thought that he would actually miss his classes, but he did. Isolation did not suit him in the least.

Sirius grasped a cup of water from the counter and sipped it absently, reveling in the cool liquid as it relieved his anguish.

Snape was supposed to be released later today, much to his chagrin.

Snape getting out meant one thing.

They would have to strike.

James had never been patient, and when it came to a plot against Snape his fuse was particularly short. Sirius had done what he could to talk the other boy out of it, but to no avail. He knew James, had this recklessness and impatience in common, and he'd known all along that the chances of even delaying the Marauders' attack against Snivellous were next to none.

And, tempted as he was to tell the others he was sick in an attempt to get out of this, Sirius was no coward. Besides, it almost felt like he had to prove himself now. If he didn't attack Snape, that meant that Snivellous had won. Sirius was not about to let the damn snake have that amount of leverage over him. His reluctance, he told himself firmly, was only because he was a good person, and attacking Snape four on one in general was one thing, but attacking Snape four on one as he was just leaving the hospital wing…well, it sounded a lot worse. Meaner. And, almost…Slytherin.

Sirius shook his head to dispel that train of thought.

They were Gryffs. They were the good guys here. Snape was an evil death-eater in training. He'd pushed a girl. He deserved what he got. The Slytherins wouldn't do shit about it, because they were evil too, and they'd probably be pleased to see some guy shoving a girl around, as opposed to wanting to protect her.

Sirius moaned quietly, letting his pounding head fall into his palms for a moment, then jerked himself to his feet.

He swayed a moment, then made his way back into the dormitory, crossing to his trunk and grabbing a book James had leant him on Quidditch teams and strategies, then leaned back in bed, shooting a vague look at the clock. It was almost five, which meant classes were pretty much all wrapped up. James, Remus, and Peter had told him to meet them outside at half past, after Remus had finished making James do a bit of homework.

At about five-fifteen Sirius got up from the bed, pocketed his wand, and made his way to their usual spot on the grounds. James and Peter were playing poker with a deck of self-shuffling cards and an assortment of chocolate frog cards. Remus was perched reading in the large beech tree above them, one leg tucked in, whilst the other dangled lackadaisically into the air. Sirius threw himself onto the dew-damp grass between Pete and James, forming a sort of triangle.

"Deal me in?" he asked. James shrugged.

" Sure. We were just about to start anyways." He tapped the deck twice with his wand and a series of random cards separated themselves, sliding out. Sirius smirked and took them, pulling his own share of starting chocolate frog cards towards him.

"High card wins," James informed him, examining Peter's face, his hazel eyes glinting mischievously.


They played for the next hour or so until dinner, Peter winning two out of three games, with Sirius winning just the second game they'd played. James was grumpy with his loss, though Remus told him fondly that he really should've expected it when he'd brought out the cards and suggested poker. James liked to think he had a better stone-face than he did.

Following a dinner full of watching James flirt with a strangely-receptive Evans and Remus making a pig out of himself with the steak, the boys retreated upstairs. James glanced around the lively common room as they entered, then jerked his head questioningly in the direction of their dorm. After exchanging several greetings, they made it upstairs and collapsed on their individual beds. Oddly, Peter was the first to speak.

"Are you sure Snape's leaving the hospital wing at ten?" Pete asked James, a nervous expression on his face.

James rolled his eyes.

"Eleven," he corrected easily. "I was in there before classes started today, under the invisibility cloak, and Pomfrey and Snape were discussing it. Snape wanted to leave as late as she'd let him, that way the corridor's would be emptier. Pomfrey agreed with him and said she'd let him leave at a quarter past eleven."

Remus heaved a sigh.

"I really wish you'd put this off a bit more," he mumbled. Then, louder: "Do you even know why he's in there Prongs?"

James shrugged again.

"I know the rumors."

"What have you heard?" Sirius asked quietly. Because he hadn't been in classes since the incident, he'd been out of touch with the gossip mill.

"I heard he was doing some extra potions work and his cauldron exploded all over him. And someone else said that he was working on some new spell and he blew up a bunch of glasses and shit all over himself."

"I heard the potions thing," Peter volunteered. "Except they said that it got into his blood or something and gave him an infection. And that's why he's been in there so long."

James snickered.

"Snape giving himself AIDS…I could see that happening."

James, Sirius, and Peter all lapsed into a fit of laughter at that.

"I heard it had something to do with you," Remus's quiet voice spoke up, his caramel eyes fixed on Sirius.

Their giggles abruptly cut off. Sirius leveled a narrow look at Remus, while James and Peter looked between the two. James seemed confused and intrigued, Peter excited and nervous.

"Where'd you get that?" Sirius asked harshly.

Remus shrugged.

"Just some friends. Word is that's why Dumbledore wanted to see you the next day. And that that's why you're missing class for a week."

"Is that true?" James asked, staring at Sirius.

Sirius ignored him.

"What exactly did they say I had to do with it?" he asked Remus, voice soft in sound, yet hard in tone.

Remus clasped his hands in his lap and wrung them against each other a bit, forehead wrinkling.

"There's two different way it's been spun," he said slowly.

"And those are?"

"Sirius, please," Remus muttered plaintively. "Remember, I'm just the messenger here."

Sirius forced himself to relax slightly and attempted a comforting smile in his friend's direction.

"I know. I'm just curious."

"Some people are saying that you turned Snape's cutting spell on him."

"What?" Sirius asked, gaping furiously.

"Not that many people are saying that though," Remus told him, looking a bit frightened at Sirius's reaction.

"Well then?"

"Others are saying he was testing out that cutting spell…sectumsepra I think…..and it got botched and ended up hitting him really badly. And that you found him after he fainted and you got him to Pomfrey's."

Sirius took a moment to contemplate this. That made him sound really heroic, didn't it? He hadn't felt like much of a hero at the time, but now that he thought about it…even if Snape had wanted to prank him, Sirius's saving him was incredibly brave. Like Dumbledore had said. And it made Snape look pretty dumb didn't it? …and it was probably the closest to the truth he'd be able to tell his friends. After all, Dumbledore had asked him to not tell others what had happened. So, really, he might as well get some credit out of these rumors, right?

He nodded.

"That last one's true. Who'd you hear it from?"

"Bloody hell, Sirius. That's true?" James asked, looking astonished. Peter, too, was staring at Sirius, his jaw slack and eyes wide.

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, laying back.

"Yeah, didn't think it was that big of a deal."

"Well," Remus started, but James cut him off.

"You're kidding me! Padfoot, do you understand what this means?"

Sirius shifted to stare at James, perplexity wrinkling the smooth plane of his forehead.

"That I'm an incredibly better person than that git?" he asked.

James shook his head, grinning.

"It means that Snape owes you a life debt now, like me," he exclaimed.

Remus groaned and Pete gasped. Sirius felt his own eyes widen. That hadn't even occurred to him!

"Bloody hell," he whispered, voice hoarse.

"Merlin," James laughed. "That just makes tonight all the better."

Sirius swallowed convulsively.

"About that…are you really sure you want to do it right as he's getting out?" Remus asked timidly.

James snorted.

"Of course I am. Remus, you're friends with Lily aren't you?"

Remus nodded hesitantly.

"Then, don't you want to get back at Snivelly for pushing her? You saw how upset Snivellous made her!"

Remus nodded, rolling out of his bed.

"You're right," he replied. Then: "It's almost dinner. I'm going to use the loo really fast. Should I meet you down there?"

"Yeah, sure," James retorted offhandedly, standing as well.

Sirius sighed and heaved himself up, stretching out a hand to Peter and pulling the smaller boy to his own feet. The three trooped down the stairs and to the great hall, discussing ideas for pranks they could pull on the entire school, as opposed to just Snape, all the while.


Severus watched disinterestedly as Madame Pomfrey unraveled the think cotton material wound about his arms. The bandages had been soaked at different levels with various potions meant to prevent infection, promote sinew, and repair tissue and muscle damage respectively. She'd done this thrice daily since his first day in the hospital, in addition to force feeding him nutrition potions. Now, though, was the final time.

"Looks to be healing nicely," she commented, examining his arms.

The scars were an angry violet shade, with pink outlining it, thick and bulging, making ugly ridges on his flesh.

"Now, let me just get some scar-fading salve and you'll be good as new," Pomfrey smiled. "You'll have to apply it liberally on both arms for the next three or so days, for it to be really effective, but-"

"I don't want it," Severus murmured.

"What? But, Severus-"

"No," he growled out quietly. "I don't want any salve."

"Mr. Snape…" Pomfrey trailed off uncertainly. She was plainly taken aback. She drew in a deep breath, then said gently, "Surely, Mr. Snape, you realize how…" she paused, obviously rooting around in her head for the proper way to phrase what she wanted to say, "obvious." she said at last, "that would be. At the moment, only Mr. Black, Dumbledore, and myself know the truth of what happened. If other students were to see these-"

"I don't care," Severus told her defiantly.

She grimaced, her hand reflexively closing over the tube of salve she'd been reaching for.

"Severus, please….Be rational…."

"It's my body," Severus replied, though this time his voice was less frigid and annoyed and more…desperate, pleading. "It's mine…My choice…"

She sighed heavily.

"Of course, Mr. Snape. I won't force anything on you." She turned to place the tube on a shelf behind her, missing his slight flinch. She did however note the soft sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," he murmured, his head down.

"The scars will remain quite…obscene…without any salve," she informed him sadly.

An odd look of happiness flitted across his face.

"I know," he replied. Her eyes automatically narrowed a bit at the hopeful tone. It was just so strange.

"Well, that's all then," she told him gently. "It's eleven already, Severus. If you wish to leave now, you may. I sincerely doubt many students will be roaming the halls."

"I-I just have to…get dressed," he said, flushing slightly.

"Of course," her tone slid back to professional automatically.

"I'll just draw the curtains for you. And, Severus, when you're done getting dressed, come to my office first. I have a few last things to do before you leave."

He nodded perfunctorily and she rose, jerking her wand at the curtains as she walked away so that they drew themselves tightly shut, shielding him from sight.

Severus slid from between the sheets, grabbing his robes from the bedside table. He pulled them on quickly, pulling his wand from the drawer and slipping it up his sleeve with a swallow. His mind pulsed with ideas to make it take even longer to get back to his dormitory, but he could feel the futility of such an exercise overwhelming him fast. Merlin, he needed to take a shower. He could practically feel the filth deep inside his every pore, infecting him. His throat convulsed, a dry sob rising in his chest, just barely held back from bursting to the surface, agony pulsing upwards. He waved his wand vaguely at the curtains, letting them loosen, and pushed them to the side.

Madame Pomfrey looked up at the sound of his footsteps and stood.

"Sit," she told him gently, motioning to the chair just inside her office. He obeyed, slumping slightly.

"I'm putting monitoring spells over you, Dumbledore's orders."

"What?" he asked, startled. She'd never made him do that before…Granted, he'd never been quite this severe in his self-injurious behavior before, and all of his previous attempts to end his own life (something like four if you included this latest) had been rather…transparent, in retrospect. But still! It was his body, his life. They had no right.

"It's for your own good, Severus," Madame Pomfrey told him in clipped tones, a revolting expression of mingled frustration and pity twisting her face. She pointed her wand at him, muttering one, two, spells.

Heat rose in Severus's cheeks and he looked away, feeling sick. This wasn't fair.

"This will alert us if you attempt to severely injure yourself."

"Will it stop me?"

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips.

"Not for right now," she retorted, "though that will change if we have a repeat performance like this latest."

He paused, stood, then turned back to face her at the door, leaving heavily against its frame.

"How long?" he asked darkly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"How long," Severus repeated through clenched teeth, "do I have to put up with this?"

She examined him for a moment.

Then, "A minimum of two weeks, after which Headmaster Dumbledore and I will evaluate your mental state and determine how to proceed."

Severus swallowed thickly, then jerked his head at her, and left hurriedly. He closed his eyes as he closed the heavy infirmary door behind him, leaning back against the wall. He drew several shaky breaths, trying to calm himself. He didn't understand how they could do this to him. Severus shuddered quietly, slamming his head back against the wall repeatedly as he worked to steady himself. Eventually, the throb in his skull did its job and his breathing settled to a more normal pace.

He was being so stupid. It really wasn't that big of a deal. Severus shook his head at his own antics, then heaved himself from the wall, muttering, "bloody moron, that's what you are Sev," to himself as he started down the dark corridor. As he walked, he attempted to ignore the sensation that he was being watched, hating himself for his own paranoia. There was a sound like a snicker as he turned down another corridor and he whirled around, his heart's pace quickening.

"Who's there?" he hissed into the darkness, eyes darting about himself.

Severus began to back up towards the wall, chewing on his lip.

"Potter, if that's you, you better come out from under that damned cloak," he scowled, examining the shadows, attempting to push every hint of hysteria beneath a mask of stone. Showing emotion, showing weakness, would only make things so much worse, he knew that well by now. He bumped into the wall in his attempt to retreat, or he thought he did. Until, of course, said wall sprouted arms that snaked about him, one going to clasp itself over his mouth as Severus released a frightened yelp.

Sniggers crowded in on him, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Severus's heart thundered in his chest. Against his will, tears rose to his eyes.

No no no no no no no…..

"Hey, there Snivellous," Potter's voice hissed in his ear.

Severus was overcome by a rush of relief, then the hands tightened around him and the sensation abated, replaced with an upsurge of loathing towards Potter, and the damned, thrice-cursed Marauders, and, above all, himself. He hated them more than ever before, for making him in that instant grateful for the hurt they caused him, so horrible, but not nearly so devastating as the other possibilities of people to come at him from the shadows.

Severus scowled and rapidly sunk his teeth into Potter's hand.

Potter let out a few choice expletives, then spun Severus around and sunk his fist into the Slytherin's abdomen. He did this one more time then gripped Severus's arm and began dragging him down the corridor.

Severus struggled furiously against Potter.

"Let me go," he exclaimed, desperately trying to shake Potter off, but Potter just smirked and rolled his eyes.

And then, abruptly another, larger, hand fell onto his shoulder, clutching tightly, nails digging into Severus's flesh where his cloak had dipped down.

"Shut the hell up, grease-ball," Black's voice sounded in his ear. Severus swallowed, then began to struggle twice as hard, still to no avail.

"I'll scream," he panted out after a moment, hating the dread coiling in his stomach and really wishing that they would just let him go.

"You scream, I'll use that cutting spell of yours against you," Potter told him.

Severus couldn't hold back a derisive snort at that. He highly doubted that Potter would remember the proper word, and, frankly, he didn't actually give a damn if Potter sliced him open. Hell, if Severus couldn't do it himself, then all power to Potter. Except…no. That would also be like letting them win. Every single one of them. If anyone was going to kill Severus, it would be himself.

Severus forced himself to go limp in their arms for a while, then, hoping the element of surprise would be enough to escape, he jerked backwards, his wand falling from his sleeve and clattering to the floor with the force.

They let go, both of them for a second, and Severus began to run, but Potter was faster and tackled him to the floor, slamming his head into the flagstone. Blinding white burst behind Severus's eyelids and he released a choked cry. He lifted one hand to his head and felt the warm stickiness of his blood on his fingers.

Then they were dragging him again, but the trip ended all too soon, and Severus found himself thrust into an empty Defense classroom. Or, at least, he'd thought it was empty. Lupin and Pettigrew, the ever-handy ingrates, emerged from behind him, as Black and Potter came through the door. Potter locked it, then they approached too, coming at him from all sides.

"You pushed Evans and you're going to pay for it," Potter told him darkly as the four of them pressed in on him.

Severus just barely managed to stave off his laughter this time. That was what Potter was using as an excuse? Severus's desperate attempt to get Lily to back off when she'd been virtually on top of him and telling him that he'd "kinda deserved it"? Bloody Hell, Potter was so desperate to reason off his violence. All of them, really. They couldn't just be honest and admit that they truly wanted to hurt him because they enjoyed it, because they got off on his pain and humiliation. For supposed Gryffindors, they were so damn cowardly!

But then, Severus's head went blank as his back slammed into what really was a wall this time, and they were right there, and Potter was sneering at him and reaching forward. They were practically on top of him. No way out.

Severus swallowed hard, terror overwhelming him at his complete and utter helplessness. He pictured his wand, lying still out in the corridor from when he'd tried to escape.

He was cornered. There would be no getting away.


A/N-

I hope you all enjoyed this. Review and I'll make sure Sirius and James get their asses kicked at some point! XD