I don't own it.

Warning, this chapter's a li'l graphic.

Only one chapter to go after this.

Defeating the Dark Lord

10) Saving Severus Part II

Harry's eyes widened, a thrill of horror shooting through him at the implication. "No."

"I'm afraid so."

"No - Severus... There - there has to be another way - "

"I never said it would be easy, Harry."

"This isn't a matter of difficulty, it's a matter of you being in so much pain that you literally scream! And if it was easy, why wouldn't everyone just get rid of it, eh? I know it's not easy! There has to be something else!"

"There isn't."

"But - you said pain, right? All you need is pain, and then you can do your focusing thing, and pull it out. So just pick another potion - one that'll give you a nosebleed, or stomach cramps, or - or make you vomit, or something - "

Severus shook his head. "They're very specific potions; very volatile, and they use very rare and expensive ingredients. Only a Master would have the knowledge to even understand the theory behind brewing them, and only a particularly brilliant Master would actually have the skill to complete them without blowing their lab up. And as I'm the only Potions Master who is also a Death Eater - " he gestured with one hand in a sort of shrug.

Harry exhaled in one long breath.

"I said earlier that it was a more mild form of the Cruciatus... that isn't strictly accurate."

Snape paused, and as Harry focused on him with weary eyes, he continued, "It starts slowly, at a very low level of pain, and then gradually builds higher and higher, finally plateauing at an exceptionally high level. It holds that level for some time... and then it vanishes, leaving no trace in the system and no after-effects at all."

Harry stared at him in horror. "And you know this how?"

"Let's just say it's a very effective interrogation technique."

His gaze turned inward, and he murmured softly, "My pain threshold might be high, but it is not that high."

"That's - " Harry shook his head in disbelief, fumbling for the right word, "barbaric."

Severus snorted. "Welcome to the Middle Ages." He drained his coffee. "Still with me?"

Harry nodded. "To the end."

"Very well." He stood and approached the end wall. A flick of his wand, and manacles appeared, embedded into the stone. "Hold this for me, will you?" He tossed his wand toward Harry , who caught it by reflex.

Severus then placed his back to the wall, and with a softly spoken word, the manacles were clamped around his wrists and ankles. He wrapped his hands around the chains and pulled, making sure that they were sound.

Harry stowed Snape's wand in his back pocket, keeping his own in his right hand, and picked up the potion with his left.

"I'll need a cushioning charm. Behind my head and down to the knees should do it."

Harry complied, watching as Severus knocked his head back toward the wall and was met by a wall of air, creating a similar effect to a soft mattress.

"That's fine. Thank you. Harry - " Snape's voice was low and urgent, "I must warn you - I'm likely to have flashbacks. The amount of stress my body will be under - I won't be able to control how my mind reacts. But whatever I say, whatever I do - keep me on task for as long as you can, and if it gets to be too much..." he grimaced, "you can't interrupt me. Don't touch me, don't try and ease the pain, under no circumstances are you to free me - turn your back if you must, but leave me be until it's over. Until it's all over. Understood?"

His voice held all the solemnity of a pre-battle rouse; Harry nodded unhappily, and confirmed, "Understood."

"Good. Now give me the potion."

That task was soon dispensed with: Severus grimaced at the taste.

"Tastes bad?"

"Tastes worse, knowing exactly what went into it."

"I suppose it would. Shouldn't you be trying to get rid of the traces now?"

Snape shrugged as much as he was able, with hands and feet shackled. "There's no rush. It works best if I'm fully under the influence of the potion. It's just a question of finishing while I can still concentrate, before the effects of the potion escalate too much."

"Ah." Harry paced the length of the room, back and forth, back and forth, and then asked, "Has it started yet?"

"Oh yes," came the calm reply, "it started as soon as I drank the potion. Currently, the pain is maybe a level 3 out of 10 - " but even as Severus spoke, his body shuddered, and he amended in a half-gasp, "make that a 4."

Harry paced anxiously, up and down, up and down, as the shuddering increased, and Severus' breathing deepened, and the sweat stood out on his brow. At the first groan, Harry spun to face him, half sick with nerves and worry - Severus was pale, eyes shut tight, lip drawn back in a silent grimace as his magic flared and he - finally - began to attack the remnants in his arm. Harry watched in silent torment, determined not to distract him, but finding it hard - so hard, so hard - to not step in and help.

Time slowed to a crawl as Severus worked, caught up in his pain. The silence was punctuated with murmurs and half-pleas, now: claims of ignorance and innocence, appeals to an unknown someone to save them, save her, please; long drawn-out groans of agony and anger, softer moans of grief; and, once, a fierce denial that rose to a shout:

"No... please, I don't... I don't - I... I'm telling you, I don't know where they are! The old man's their Secret Keeper, not I! Please..."

And his voice fell back to the fretful mutterings of before.

Harry paced.

Back.

And forth.

And back.

And forth.

And back.

And forth -

There was a great, shuddering gasp - Severus' eyes were open, unseeing, glazed with pain, mouth gaping in a silent scream as his body arched away from the wall. And then his head twisted around, tortuously, painfully, and he tore at his forearm with his bare teeth, a horrible keening wail emerging from his throat. With each bite and scrape of his teeth, a tiny sliver of grey-green light came away too, mixed in with the blood. And then Harry realised that he was tearing chunks of flesh off his arm, spitting them onto the floor in a desperate effort to rid himself of the Mark, and that the light was coming away in greater amounts too, dissipating as soon as Severus tore it from the arm.

And finally there was no light left to dispel - just Severus, hanging shaking and incoherent on the wall, forearm reduced to a bloody pulp, that same blood smeared across his lips and teeth and tongue.

And then his whole body gave a single, massive convulsion - and the trickle of blood flowing from his mouth increased, and Harry knew he'd bitten clean through his tongue - and then he screamed.

It was a terrible sound of pure physical agony, sheer animalistic pain, as the body was overloaded and couldn't cope and finally had to release the pain through any outlet it could find. His body was convulsing, thrashing wildly against the wall and the chains as it fought for release from this endless agony, eyes wild with pain, blood dripping from his mouth to stain the cold stone floor.

Harry stared, body shaking in horror, tears running freely down his cheeks as Severus screamed and screamed and screamed - and then he whirled, still shaking, and curled into a protective ball in the corner, hands crammed over his ears to try and block out the excruciating sound, and he wept, staring into darkness, listening to the sound of Severus in torment, and he knew that nothing - nothing - could wipe away the memory of this day.

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