When the Strong Break
Chapter Seven: Something's Gotta Give
"Change will never happen while people lack the ability and courage to see themselves for who they are."
-Bryant H. McGill
Hands were on him in an instant, punching, slapping, pinching, and scratching. Trainers slammed into his stomach and sides, slammed down on his legs and flailing arms, one jarring a finger backwards, causing Severus to shriek in pain. His scream was cut off abruptly with a well-placed silencio, and then, to his horror, he felt his cloak and shirt being torn away as if by an invisible hand. NoNoNo….And then his pants were being cut away from his jerking hips by a spell he didn't hear and wasn't in the mood to decipher, and fuck, but Severus just couldn't breathe anymore. His chest was burning, body throbbing. His whole mouth had gone desert dry and even his tongue was choking him by now, making him wonder at the presence of a possible langlock, and then hands were on him again and his head was tossing furiously back and forth, desperate, while a part of him was very vaguely aware of the tears slipping down his face and the urine slipping down his leg, his terror making itself known to his laughing attackers. He hated himself so much…
As the Marauders began to back up, Potter raising his wand, Severus made a last attempt to lash out, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and managed to throw his fist into Potter's abdomen, making the other boy drop his wand.
Yes!
Severus lunged for the wand, but just as his fingers began to close around it, he was torn back by a furious looking Potter and a grim looking Black. Potter's fist slammed brutally into his nose and he released a silent whimper as his nose broke, the sharp crack resonating through the empty classroom. Severus collapsed to the floor, his hands flying up in a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding, another broken, unheard yowl tearing from his bruised throat as the movement jarred his very much broken finger. Severus looked to Lupin desperately, hoping the werewolf's supposed sensitivity would win over for once, but Lupin simply backed up a bit and turned around, shifting his weight in discomfort and leaving Severus to the mercy of the merciless once again.
"Please," Severus mouthed into the stale air, unable to suppress the word any longer, even despite his inability to actually say it aloud.
Potter snorted derisively above him, while Black remained silent, almost impassive. Pettigrew was off slightly to the side, face twisted in bitter glee. Severus's jaw clenched around the word as it threatened to escape again.
Gathering the last shards of himself, Severus forced his gaze to meet first Potter's, then Black's.
"Cowards," he mouthed as deliberately as he could. He wished they could hear the taunt of the word, the sneer he folded like a beautiful piece of origami around it.
"Shut it, you filthy Snake," Potter scowled, his eyes rolling.
"Why?" Severus asked silently, rage and agony screaming from his ebony eyes.
Potter licked his lips, one hand jumping up to smooth out the top of his hair. Talk about a narcissistic prick…He knelt beside Snape's crumpled form and took his hand. Severus felt an inadvertent tremble slither through his limbs.
"This," Potter spoke deliberately, "is for what you did to Evans."
And Potter twisted his arm, quick as a flash, and slammed it down against the floor. Severus's head jerked back, a silent bellow escaping his lips as excruciating pain dripped white hot between every single metacarpal. His wrist was burning, his forearm searing, but it was his hand that had sustained the most damage, and Severus thought he actually saw the shiny white of bone poking out at his thumb's base. Black spots crowded his vision, which was rapidly tunneling.
"James," Black hissed from somewhere to his right. "Get a hold of yourself! This wasn't part of the plan!"
Severus heard Potter's scoff just barely over the buzzing in his ears. He felt as if he were going deaf, though a small, logical part of him recognized the sign that he was about to slip into unconsciousness. That was fine with him. If anything, Severus would welcome it.
Darkness spiraled in on Severus and he greeted it with open arms.
Sirius was going to be sick. He could actually see a bit of what looked like bone poking out of Snape's hand …this was too much. He should have never come….
Snape's eyes had finally fluttered closed, a twisted imitation of a smile contorting his thin lips. Sirius looked away, bile brushing his teeth.
To his left, James was panting slightly, dragging himself up.
"Sorry about that," James muttered after a moment. "I dunno what came over me, Siri. Reme," he paused, then: "Merlin. I didn't realize I'd slammed it so hard…"
"Just…let's just put him in the closet, okay?" Sirius asked weakly. "I really want to get out of here."
Remus turned around, caught sight of Snape's hand, and promptly threw up. Sirius wished he could join him.
James nodded, looking unsure for once, and gathered his wand off the floor, pointing it at Snape and throwing out a "mobilicorpus". Snape's body rose into the air and James began to direct it towards the supply room off to the side of the Defense classroom. Sirius went in front of him, opening the door. Snape tumbled to the floor with a jerk of James's wand once inside and Sirius couldn't help a wince.
"Sirius?" Remus's voice sounded behind them, hoarse with sick. "Can't you do a few healing spells? Like just on Snape's nose or something. If he looks too bad in the morning we'll all be in trouble."
"They can't pin this on us," James frowned, looking offended at the mere insinuation.
"I know…" Remus started slowly. "But just in case…I mean, he did only just get out of the infirmary. And he could tell them. Even if there's no real proof, there's a possibility we'll get a detention or two after what went down last week."
James looked put-off, but nodded his acquiescence, as did Sirius. He was actually glad. Healing Snape's nose would hopefully be enough to put the searing in his gut to rest.
Sirius turned back to the unconscious Slytherin and raised his wand, concentrating on the gentle sloping movement and direct intention behind the spell as he murmured an 'episkey'. Snape's nose seemed to almost crackle as it fixed itself, and the Slytherin's breathing relaxed minutely as one of his many injuries was alleviated, that particular pain melting away. Sirius sighed, casting a quick evanesco at the blood staining Snape's face and clothes, then an even quicker glamour to disguise the extent of Snape's bruising and other injuries. Blood continued to creep sluggishly from a few of his remaining, though fortunately just about invisible, wounds, but Sirius figured it was better than nothing.
"Alright. Good, let's go," James said, his voice almost businesslike, but for the giddy euphoria that colored his face with his words.
The boys left the supply closet, James shutting and locking the door behind them, and then adding a few wards on top of the lock for good measure, before they all retreated from the classroom as one and headed back to their dormitory.
Sirius couldn't sleep. He tossed. He turned. He buried his head in his pillow. He counted garden gnomes, and when that didn't work he counted his friends' snores, yet still, Sirius could not sleep.
He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with Snape, because Sirius was rapidly growing tired with how lately everything seemed to be about Snape, but apparently something nobody ever told you was that- denial? It was exhausting. And not in the good, Sirius finally gets to fall aleep way, either. It was exhausting in a manner that hit bone deep and made his shoulders sink down, and made his thoughts grow sluggish, and made sweat cool on his palms, and while it did all that tired crap, it also managed to make his heart speed and his nerves fray and his blinks slow down, then speed up, then slowdownspeed all over again. It's a miserable sensation, denial, because after a while, you just can't pretend you're not denying something and then you're just thatmuchcloser to what exists, no matter how much you want it not to. You're just that much closer to the one thing your subconscious recognizes could change everything, every piece of who you are, and it's downright terrifying. Sirius doesn't want that, so Sirius denies and denies, while exhaustion becomes the marrow in his bones.
Sirius can't sleep, but Sirius is so damn tired...
He was fighting a losing battle and starting to know it.
Finally, after hours worth of tossing and turning and counting and mulling and wishing viciously that everything would just go away, Sirius groaned softly and found himself sliding from his bed, unable to resist the siren call of his conscience any longer. He padded over to James' trunk, grabbed his best friend's invisibility cloak, and went to wake up the Fat Lady one more time. She would be so pissed...
A/N-
Okay, this one's pretty short, but the next will be up pretty soon and it will be a lot longer. I just wanted to get a few chapters ahead. And, don't worry. Sirius is going to start stepping up a bit more soon. He just has to work through all that damn immaturity. Lol. On a final note, I now have this entire story basically planned out, or at least I know where I'm heading, and because of that, I want to warn you that this story will be quite dark. It will deal with lots of adult themes, and I am probably going to be bumping the rating up to M, as I don't want to do a disservice to the material or anything like that. I hope this doesn't lose me any readers, because I love every one of you, but I'm here to serve the story. FYI, I changed a bit about Pomfrey's monitoring spells. Now it basically will just inform her and Dumbledore if Severus tries to severely injure himself again. What I had before was simply too complicated, unfortunately. Lots of love! ~Ashley.
P.S. I hope you guys had a way better Valentines Day than I did. :) lol
