Broken, Chapter Eleven

Dedicated to all the readers of Broken. Thank you.


"I want to see." Albus murmured, listening to Severus cry and watching him writhe underneath the blankets. "I want to see what torments him so."

Poppy, on the other side of the bed, glanced at him. "I don't recommend it. We do not know what state his mind is in."

Albus leaned forward, "I need to understand what has been done to him. Will it hurt him?"

"No." Poppy answered, "Not if you are careful. But...Albus, you don't know what you might see. It might be...unpleasant, for you. He has been tortured—you do not know to what extent."

"Don't do this!" Severus interrupted their conversation, his voice an anguished shriek.

"I have to, Poppy. I have to know."

"Very well." Poppy smiled, just slightly, "I knew you would not take no for an answer. Be careful."

Albus nodded. He brushed one hand across Severus' forehead, and murmured the incantation beneath his breath. "Legilimens."


They threw Severus onto the ground, where he landed in a crumpled heap. Albus looked at him—he saw the signs of torture. Hands, twisted and bent beyond recognition. His hair was unkempt and Albus could see scalp where chunks of the black had been torn away. His robes—teaching robes, Albus thought with a stab of pain—tattered, stained with dried blood and more that was fresh. He watched as Severus bravely raised his head—saw the bruises that coloured the ghostly skin and the brown blood that had collected after a lip had been cut too many times. He was so thin and weary and weak in appearance that Albus thought his heart would break all over again. His brave Severus...

They were in a living room. There were dark red carpets and curtains, fine furniture and ornate walls. Severus ignored all this—and instead looked at Voldemort.

Albus followed his gaze, seeing Tom Riddle stood a few metres away, wand in one hand and a cruelly mocking expression plastered on his face. Albus felt a rush of hatred quite unlike anything he had felt before.

"Severus. Good morning. I trust you slept well?" The tone was sarcastic—it was clear that Severus had not slept in days. "Or perhaps not. I have heard a terrible rumour that someone is lacing your water with many different potions, keeping you awake." Voldemort shook his head, as if horrified. Severus simply stared at him.

Voldemort smiled, "So good of you to join us."

Albus watched as Severus glanced into the shadows—yes, there were others present. Bellatrix, Malfoy...Albus recognised a few. The rest he could name from Severus' information. The presence of the other Death Eaters had clearly made Severus a little uneasy—Albus wondered why.

"I hear you had a message for me, Severus. Would you like to repeat it to me?" Voldemort took a step towards his prisoner, who watched him for a moment longer with narrowed eyes.

"I am so longing to hear it." Voldemort folded his arms into his cloak.

"Go to hell." Severus responded.

There were jeers from the circle surrounding the incapacitated Severus. Albus felt a thrill of pride.

Voldemort simply laughed, "You do not seem to realise what a predicament you are in, Severus. This amuses me. Lucius told me that you suggested that you would "not betray Albus Dumbledore" while you had breath in your body. Did anyone ever tell you, Severus, that the line between bravery and foolishness is so very thin?"

Severus continued to stare at Voldemort.

"Now. You must have noticed that we have company, Severus. I feel that it is rather...selfish...of me, to make your torment such an exclusive activity. I know that dear Bella has been longing to...speak to you..."

More laughs from the circle. This time, Severus smiled faintly too, "If you cannot succeed in taking information from me, my Lord," The title was sarcastic, "Then I doubt any of your other followers can." He paused for breath. "And you have failed once."

Everyone turned to look at Voldemort. The Dark Wizard straightened his back, every muscle seeming to stiffen. "Dear Severus." He said softly, "Dear, dear Severus." He swept toward the younger man, kneeling in front of him. "What has he done to you? Why do you cause yourself more pain just to defend him? He doesn't even know you are alive. He thinks you are dead!"

Guilt flooded Albus' chest. This was after the body had been discovered. He should not have stopped looking.

"I will always be loyal to him." Severus' response was quiet.

Voldemort gripped Severus' chin between two fingers, staring straight into his eyes, "You're a fool, Severus Snape. A stupid fool." His grip was tight—but Severus did not flinch.

"Albus Dumbledore will defeat you." Severus leaned close, "He is the greatest wizard of all time, and what is more, you know it to be true. You are afraid of him."

"Tell me, Severus. When is Albus Dumbledore's birthday?"

Albus looked at Voldemort—in a very close proximity to his younger friend. Why was that important? It would make no difference to the war!

Severus opened his mouth to respond.

Then he frowned.

Albus looked at him, this was peculiar. Severus had always celebrated the older wizard's birthday since he had begun teaching at Hogwarts again.

"You're forgetting him, Severus." Voldemort whispered harshly, "My magic is working."

"No." Severus shook his head, but Albus detected the slither of fear in his worn voice.

"What happens to you when he is lost? What happens when you forget him completely? Will you be so strong? How could you be? He is your last defence. When that fails you...then you will be mine for the taking, Severus Snape." He pulled away from Severus, holding up a hand. "But! More on that later. I have something...special planned for you, Severus...which will tear any remaining resistance away. However." He resumed his position at the head of the circle. "I always find that, as a torturer, it is much more entertaining to torment someone when they are able to resist. Don't we agree?" He looked around the circle, seeing the nods.

Albus felt the hate and fear and anxiety drive into his chest. That was why Severus was concerned. This was becoming a group torture session. He wanted to withdraw from the memory—but something made him need to stay. This was the day everything had changed—he could guess that simply from the triumph that was evident in Voldemort's voice. What ever he had planned was going to destroy Severus—and make him the terrified and broken wreck that lay in Dumbledore's office.

It would hurt him, but he would stay.

"And you do put on a fine show when being tortured, Severus. It is one of your...more endearing characteristics. I wonder if anyone here will be able to make you scream—the way I have?"

Albus had never hated a human being more than Tom Riddle in his life. He was constantly laughing at Severus—and he knew that he was close to being victorious. He would defeat Voldemort, just for what he was doing here.

"Bella. Considering you are always so enthusiastic, would you like to begin? I want the name of an Order member, before this session is finished." He folded his arms, "Succeed, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and you will be punished." He turned and seated himself in an armchair, where he had a very good view of Severus. He watched his prisoner for a long moment, as Bellatrix stepped forward, toying with her wand.

Severus' eyes lingered on the Dark Lord—yet Albus did not know what emotion he could see in his friend's face. Was it fear? It was more than that—it was hatred. He wondered what Severus wanted—it was more than just a release. He wanted revenge for what the Dark Lord was doing to him.

Albus couldn't help but compare the Severus in this memory to the Severus that lay in the bed in his office—here, Severus was trying to fight. What had changed? What had made this Severus, who was willing to resist, change into the boy who just wanted to die?

"I always knew you were not to be trusted." Bellatrix spat in Severus' direction—the younger man raised his head. "I said, right from the start, that you were not who you said you were."

Severus smiled. "Are you accusing the Dark Lord of being blind, Bellatrix?" He asked, his tone carefully ironic.

Bella did not look happy with this statement; but it was Voldemort who chose to react. He raised his wand and lazily waved it downward—Severus gasped and blood splattered the floor. "Be careful, Severus. I do not think insulting my...loyal...followers is a particularly good idea, considering your company for the next hour is with them. Bella was indeed right about you; I should have listened to her earlier."

Albus stared in fascination—cruel fascination—at the blood and gash on Severus' chest. He could see it clearly through the ripped material—he could see muscle and bone, revealed through Tom's cruel spell. He watched as Severus recovered—lifting his head to look at Bellatrix—and he saw the pain on his spy's face. This was difficult.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix shouted—her signature spell, her speciality. Albus watched as Severus flinched, waiting to hear him cry out.

But, unbelievably, Severus did not move again. Albus frowned in incredulity—was this numbness to the Cruciatus? Severus remained sitting up, eyes cast down to the floor—but he did not react to the curse.

His initial pride turned to shock when he realised that there was only one way that Severus could block out the pain of that curse—he had been submitted to it so often that he understood how it worked. How many times? How long for? He felt ill, just at the thought.

Bellatrix broke the curse when Voldemort stood, "Enough." He glided toward Severus, "I am disappointed, Bellatrix. I would have thought that you, of all people..." He waved his hand dismissively at her. She backed away, looking distraught.

Voldemort looked around his circle. "Avery."

Severus had never spoken highly of Avery. He was sadistic and cruel; clever enough to create his own spells and potions (although he did not rival Severus as a wizard, the younger man had been quick to point out), yet stupid enough to use them only for torture. He followed every order that the Dark Lord made.

He walked behind Severus—and the younger wizard did not have the strength to turn his head. Albus watched Severus for a moment—he was frowning, as if trying to remember something, but it kept slipping away from him.

Voldemort was staring at Severus, a small grin playing on his bloodless lips. He lowered himself slightly so he could look into Severus' eyes. A wordless conversation was exchanged, during which Severus looked away. Voldemort smirked, laughed to himself, and then turned away, seating himself once again.

Avery was holding something in his hand—it looked much like a syringe, that Albus had seen Severus use while he had been making potions. On explaining the device to Albus, Severus had said that it was a Muggle invention, yet allowed him to distribute small amounts of ingredients slowly.

Avery stalked forward—he was larger than most, but there was little strength in his muscles. He gripped one of Severus' arms, ignoring the small cry from the other, and pressed the point of the syringe to Severus' wrist.

To his credit, Severus did not pull away—he observed the needle driving into his vein as he would a new potion or ingredient. Avery pulled away, sneered at Severus, and resumed his position just behind Severus, wand drawn, simply waiting.

The change was subtle—but Albus still noticed it. He saw Severus' shoulder slump just a little, his eyes drooping closed. Colour drained from his face, and he seemed to sway just slightly where he was sat. His breathing became quick and raspy.

A crease appeared across his forehead.

Avery slashed his wand as if it were a whip—and an invisible blade seemed to tear through Severus' back. The younger man jerked forward, crying out. The sound was a blade stabbing into Albus' heart.

Severus moved one hand to his mouth, careful not to hurt his hand any further. Albus saw his throat muscles move—he looked like he was going to be sick.

Avery cast his spell again—Severus gasped for breath—and lost the battle with his stomach. His spine curved and his body convulsed violently—there was nothing to expel from his mouth, but the image was still distressing.

"We are looking for a name." Avery said softly—Severus reacted to the voice, but his expression was so distant and vacant. Albus wanted to know exactly what the injection had been—it was making Severus clearly so disorientated.

"Tell me a member of the Order of the Phoenix." Avery continued.

Severus was silent for a long moment.

Avery struck out with the spell again—the younger man recoiled in agony, shaking his head, "I can't."

His tormented admission brought him another whiplash—but still Severus did not give in. "I won't!"

Long seconds dragged by—Severus shook his head violently, "I won't..." His voice was soft—too soft—his whole body was caving in on itself, and he slumped forward, catching himself on his hands—that gave way beneath him.

He collapsed to the floor, fighting some kind of inner battle—it was exhausting him, yet he could not sleep, for Albus knew that Voldemort would not let him.

Voldemort stood up, coming closer to Severus, investigating the state that the younger wizard had got himself into. "One name, Severus, that is all I ask." He murmured.

Severus raised his head and spat at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort stiffened. "Get out of my sight." He snarled at the other Death Eaters—his voice trembled with rage and danger. Albus did not concentrate on them disappearing—his eyes had detected other movement. He turned his head, just slightly. Lucius Malfoy was stood a few feet away. He had taken a few steps forward, looking at Severus—but his expression was almost unreadable. Albus narrowed his eyes, contemplating Lucius—was the Malfoy worried for his friend?

His attention diverted quickly when he heard a gasp of pain from Severus—Voldemort had grabbed him by his hair and was staring into his face. His voice had dropped to a deadly whisper, "I will destroy you."

Severus did not respond—he started to cough, violently. Voldemort threw him down onto the floor and turned away.

Still Severus coughed, a noise that told Albus his throat was dry. He needed a drink.

Unfortunately, Voldemort had also noticed Severus' predicament. He conjured a glass of water from thin air. "That is a nasty cough, Severus." He announced, "I couldn't go through such torment without a drink of pure, cold water."

Albus saw Severus' eyes settle on the goblet. He saw the desire and need in the black eyes. He couldn't stand this.

Voldemort smiled—a predatory smile—"Are you thirsty, Severus?" He drank from the glass—all the while staring at the younger man. He offered him the goblet.

Severus turned his head away.

"Very well." Voldemort took one step forward, so he was close to Severus—but not too close. He turned the goblet upside down, and the water splashed onto the carpet. He threw the goblet to one side and grabbed Severus' head, forcing it down to the now damp carpet, "If you want it, you will have to lick it from the floor." He pushed Severus' face against the carpet with force—and then let go. "Lucius, pick him up."

Lucius was there in a flash—yet Albus saw the gentleness in the way he helped his friend into his arms. Blood was dribbling from Severus' nose—and while the Dark Lord's back was turned, he quickly dabbed the blood away with the sleeve of his robe. Severus' eyes settled on his, and there was a moment exchanged between the two—which ended with Severus batting his hand away.

Voldemort turned back, "We need to talk, Severus."

"I...have...nothing...to...say." Severus answered.

Lucius had the younger wizard trapped in his arms—as Voldemort advanced on him. "No. You have plenty to say." He knelt on the floor beside Severus, "You are going to offer your allegiance to me, once more. You are going to renounce your loyalty to Dumbledore. You are going to give me the information that rightfully belongs to me."

Severus shook his head. "No."

"Severus." The voice was almost affectionate. A white finger stroked Severus' cheek and along his hairline. "Fighting will not get you anywhere."

"...You will have to...drag...the information from me..." His voice was harder now—Albus felt his heart bleed.

"I would take great pleasure in that activity, Severus, as you well know. Unfortunately, you do not have the strength to entertain me any longer. Here is your final chance. Give in. Tell me what I want to hear."

Severus stared at him for a long moment. The finally, "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard who ever lived."

Voldemort drew back. "Very well. You leave me no choice." He stood, and drew his wand. "Tell me, Severus, are you aware of the Mentis Rumpere spell?"

Albus stiffened. No. No. It couldn't be...

Severus stiffened to. "My Lord..."

"I thought you might know." Voldemort continued, "Do you know what it might do to you?"

"Please!"

"No need to beg me, Severus. I shall enlighten you." He started to pace, backward and forward.

"A funny thing, the mind. One can have the weakest body—but if they have the strongest mind, then they can surpass anything physical. Achieving total control of the mind is a difficult feat; few manage it successfully." Voldemort stopped and looked at Severus for a moment, "But clearly, you have worked to keep your mind under your control. This is admirable. But to break the mind...that requires skill...determination..." He smiled. "It will also be painful. Agonising, in fact."

"My Lord. I beg of you, don't do this, I cannot..."

"You need to be in control, Severus. This we know. You need to be able to think. I will take that ability from you. You have fought admirably—and Lord Voldemort recognises that. However, Lord Voldemort is also aware of the many number of betrayals that you have committed. I believe that this is...suitable punishment."

Severus shook his head—and real fear was showing in his black gaze. "I need my thoughts..."

"To keep you sane?" The Dark Lord smirked. He came closer, "Do you feel it, now? The slight twinge of fear. Can you feel the sweat trickling down your back? The cruel stab of hopelessness?"

Albus felt tears burn his eyes. He could see the fear in Severus' eyes.

The arms holding his young friend captive tightened—and Lucius would not let go. Severus struggled, just a little, but he could not get away.

"You can tell us, soon, Severus, how it feels to be...broken."

He pointed his wand, and Severus met his gaze, "Have mercy, my Lord!"

"Mercy?" Voldemort paused. He looked at Severus for a long moment. "Why should I have mercy? I want you on my side Severus—but you have proved that you are uncooperative when you are in control of yourself and your thoughts. However. When you have nothing—I will be able to...tempt you...all the more easily."

Severus shook his head—but this was not defiance. It was terror, "Please..."

Instead of answering, Voldemort simply waved his wand.


Severus' screams of pain and anguish filled his head as he was viciously repelled from the memory. His last sight was of Severus convulsing violently in Lucius Malfoy's unyielding arms. He was returned to his own mind, his own office.

He was shaking, trembling.

"Albus?" Poppy's voice, concerned at his state.

His stomach churned. Foul bile rose in the back of his throat. He staggered toward the bathroom, collapsing by the toilet bowl. The images of Severus, screaming, sobbing, totally defenceless would not leave his head and he retched the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

He realised that he was crying. He was crying for the injustice of everything that had been done to Severus. He was crying because he realised just what his follower had been through. He was crying because he knew just how much damage had been done.

He was devastated because all the pain had been his fault—Severus had tried to stay loyal.

He rose, shakily to his feet, tears still streaking his cheeks.

He sank into the chair beside Severus' bed, and gathered the body into his arms. He pressed a kiss to Severus' sweat-drenched forehead, feeling a sob choke his throat.

"I'm sorry, Severus." He wept. "I'm so sorry."


Oooh. Long. Poor Severus. Enough of the flashbacks; next chapter we will be back to the present—and we'll see what state Severus is when he awakens from his fever—and we find out just what Mentis Rumpere actually does...

I hope you will be back; I look forward to your comments!