26. Broken Open, part 1

Broken pieces, break into me.

So imperfectly what you should be.

Lay here, it's safe here, I'll let you be broken open.

Hide you, confide to you so we can be broken open.*

~o~

Voldemort spoke in a soft hiss as he read the document written in Parseltongue.

The fragile parchment from which he read, was one of several literary artifacts he'd found decades ago, tucked away in a small warded room in a dark corner of the Chamber of Secrets.

He treasured these old scribed relics from Salazar Slytherin and had pulled three from their safekeeping in response to the recent threat posed by the Order.

Voldemort knew it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore, or someone else in his band of do gooders, managed to decipher the wards that surrounded his manor and he had no intention to wait around for the showdown.

No, he would have to abandon his home and move his operations — but to where?

Tom recalled having read of an ancient fortress when he'd originally scanned through the then recently discovered artifacts. It was a fastness and at the time, its existence had been a mere fact of interest, something he might someday investigate. But recent developments had spurred his renewed interest, for now it was imperative that he find this place.

His slit like eyelids widened around his intense red gaze when he finally found the correct passage of Parseltongue. He then set aside the document and, using the coordinates given, he examined the large map he'd spread out across his mahogany desk.

It took some time, but he finally found what appeared to be the correct location, and he released a stifled sigh of satisfaction through his narrow nares, but knew there was no time to gloat on his success; he would have to leave immediately to investigate his findings, despite the fact that operations were underway on that forsaken rock in the North Sea.

"My Lord," Pettigrew called timidly from his bowed position in the doorway.

"You may speak."

"My Lord, we have received communication from Malfoy."

"Continue."

"He reports that all the captives have survived and that they are making their way southward along the chain of safe holds."

"How far have they progressed?"

"To the third shack, per his report."

"Very good," he said as he rolled up the map, "and what is their condition?"

"Malfoy reports that the majority of survivors are experiencing assorted affects from their imprisonment; he is asking for Snape."

Voldemort considered the news. "Send word for them to hold their position. They will not continue here as previously planned, but will instead use the three southern most stations to house the survivors until I send for them."

"Yes, my Lord."

"When you have completed that task, you will then proceed to shrink and pack all of my furnishings and belongings."

Pettigrew barely hid his shock at this pronouncement, "Of course My Lord, as you wish." He managed to dip his bow even lower and then backed out of the room.

Voldemort stood slowly and rolled up the left sleeve of his robe. He was thrilled by the intensity of all that was occurring simultaneously: the apparent successful attack on Azkaban, the escape of his captured Death Eaters, the Order's looming threat upon his manor and his very own delicious thwart against their endeavors in discovering the whereabouts of the Fastness.

His cock grew hard with self satisfaction as he pulled out his wand and pressed its tip to his Dark Mark, after which he took the piece of hard wood and rubbed it up and down that of his own. "Perhaps a bit of indulgence before I depart might be in order," he said and smiled with anticipation at the thought of Severus' alabaster ass.

~SH~

Severus stared at the lifting darkness in his bedroom as he stroked himself to a truly dismal completion. The satisfaction from his orgasm was minimal at best, but it was either jack off alone … again, or walk into seventh year potions with a hard on.

He'd lain awake for hours, thinking about the other night when he and Harry stood alone on the spiral staircase; the way Harry's soft lips felt upon his cheek, how his slight sculptured torso fit perfectly in Severus' arms and how he had swum in a heady sensation when that young length had wedged up tightly against his own.

Severus sighed as he recalled Harry's tempting voice echo in his mind, How are we going to make it all semester?

"I don't know Harry," he whispered softly, "I don't know."

Giving up on any further sleep, Severus threw back the covers, banished away the mess and made to prepare for this day's classes. He decided to skip breakfast in the Great Hall that morning, skip the noise and the temptation to watch Harry and his physical response that would no doubt ensue.

A long hot shower, a strong cup of Ceylon tea and a half hour or so in his lab for some peaceful, private brewing sounded infinitely more appealing.

Severus stepped towards the loo, but before he could even cast a Lumos, the Mark on his arm burned so fiercely that he nearly doubled over in pain.

This was unusual to say the least, to be summoned on a school day morning. And from the severity of the summons, he knew he'd best respond immediately. There wouldn't be time for a shower or proper attire; the best he could manage would be to throw a robe over his naked body and depart.

~SH~

The Dark Lord's intense summons brought Severus to an unexpected destination. Not the foyer as was customary, but directly to the Dark Lord's study.

"Ah Severus, you're promptness delights me."

He dropped to his knees, "My Lord, how may I be of service."

Voldemort smiled at the choice of words. "I'm afraid your students will have to do without you for a day or two," he spoke coyly as he strode slowly toward his potions master.

"My Lord?"

"You must know how highly I value your skills with potions; rarely do I send you into the field, but that is exactly what I am requiring of you this morning."

Severus waited patiently for his master to get to the point.

"You will be pleased know that your fellow Death Eaters who were captured the summer before last, have now been freed from Azkaban and are currently taking refuge at a number of safe keepings …" he paused, "I suppose shacks would be a better choice of word. None the less, your services have been requested."

Severus Occluded his shock at this news, "No doubt, there were injuries …"

"Something of that order," Voldemort began to prepare himself as he walked up behind Severus.

"Of course My Lord, I shall leave at once."

"Not so fast, dear Severus."

Voldemort reached out with one of his boney white fingers and pulled away the lace that had held Severus' long thick hair, allowing the strands to splay across his back in a sheet of shining black.

"Before you leave, I wish to spend a private moment with you."

The words caused Severus' heart to skip a beat at what was obviously about to take place. It wouldn't be the first time the Dark Lord had claimed this service from him, but it had been years, and during that time Severus had managed to safely bury the horrible rawness from the earlier rapes, into that locked box deep inside his soul.

The pristine wanting he shared with Harry blew away as a vapor in the wind. He closed his mind and closed his heart when his master lifted his robe and whispered in his ear, "Put your hands on the floor."

~SH~

"Does Snape think we don't have anything better to do then sit here and wait for him to show up?" spouted off Ron indignantly.

It was twenty minutes past the hour and the students in seventh year potions were growing restless, all except for three.

As he had been the entire first week of school, Draco was oddly quiet and withdrawn. He'd known about the planned attack on Azkaban, knew that his father was in charge of its operation and that he would be gone for days if not weeks.

They'd argued about it, and since his summons nearly a week ago, Draco had worried nonstop about his father's well being.

Snape's absence this morning merely confirmed to the teen, the fact that it had happened — or that it was happening. Perhaps the later was the case since there had been no mention of it in that morning's Daily Prophet.

On the other side of the room sat two other quiet students.

During breakfast that morning, halfway through his meal, Harry was overtaken by — something. He couldn't put a name to it. He wasn't sick per say, but he definitely didn't feel good.

On top of that now was the fact that Sev hadn't turned up to class. He hadn't been at breakfast either, but at the time Harry wasn't worried, as Severus quite of skived off breakfast in the Great Hall.

Harry knew in his heart that something had happened to Severus, and his worry added to this awful feeling was now starting to make him feel positively ill.

"Maybe he overslept?" called out one of the students.

"Did anyone check his office?" asked Zabini.

Don't ya think, if he were in there, he'd a come out here by now, ya dolt?" countered Ron.

"Listen Weazlebeak, if you want a fight we'll be happy to oblige."

"Oh yeah? You and who else?" leveled the redhead. "Malfoy over there?" he said jokingly, "or maybe you were thinking of Parkinson."

Pansy was about ready to walk over and let Ron have it when Argus Filch marched into the room.

"Quiet down, quiet down," he ordered as he advanced to the front of the class.

"Professor Snape is sick, so the Headmaster wants you all to use this class as a study period."

The students responded with a resounding moan of disapproval.

"And I'm tah stay here n' keep an eye on all of ya." He pressed his thin lips together and peered around the room, relishing in this snippet of authority.

"Now open yer books and shut yer mouths. I don't want tah hear a peep outta ya."

The moans settled down as the students unwillingly pulled out their books and began to read — or at least they pretended to.

Ron decided to take this opportunity to work on his Quidditch playbook, while several students simply began passing notes back and forth.

Hermione looked to Harry's pallid face. "Perhaps you should go see Madame Pomfrey," she whispered.

"For the tenth time Mione … I'm not sick!" he whispered back adamantly. "It's probably just that banger I had," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah right," she huffed as she pulled out her book and tried to read. Although they hadn't talked, she had noticed the way Harry was always looking at Snape and vice versa, and though Snape was better at wearing a mask of indifference than was Harry, the expression in his eyes had occasionally given him away.

She knew damn well something going on between the two of them, just as she knew damn well that Snape would never not turn up to class just for being 'under the weather'.

Something was wrong, and Harry's unease was confirmation of both her suspicions.

~SH~

It was late on Friday, Severus was still missing and the awful feeling that had hit Harry so suddenly the previous morning had plagued him incessantly now for two days. He could barely concentrate enough to do his schoolwork, he'd laid awake most of the night worrying and had barely eaten a thing.

He finally broke down and went to see Madame Pomfrey late that afternoon. She ran her tests but couldn't find a physical cause for his condition.

"Perhaps you should stay here over the weekend Harry," She had suggested. "I could monitor you and give you something to help you sleep."

He'd been sitting on the edge of a bed, but stood up immediately. "Oh please no, Madame Pomfrey," he pleaded. "Can't you just give me a vial of something? I promise I'll go back to the tower and rest."

"Well," she wavered then looked to Ron and Hermione who had come to collect their friend when classes had ended. "Only if you two promise to keep an eye on him."

"We will!" assured Ron. Their first Quidditch meeting of the season was scheduled for that evening, and he didn't want Harry to miss it.

"Wait here while I retrieve the potions."

When the Mediwitch returned, she gave Harry something to settle his stomach so that he could at least eat dinner. Then she handed him another vial. "Pay attention now Mr. Potter, this is a combination of Draught of Peace and Dreamless Sleep. Take it ONLY when you've gotten into bed. It's very potent and I don't want you passing out and hurting yourself. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."

~SH~

"Explain to me again that Quaffle Round-About Throw?" asked Jimmy Peakes, one of this year's new Beaters.

"Oh, come on Jimmy; haven't you read the playbook? It's right there on page…" Ron turned to Harry, "Do you remember what page it's on?"

Harry, who had been sitting throughout the meeting staring fixedly at the wall in front of him, merely shook his head.

"Hand me my playbook" Ron ordered Katie then turned in surprise when Hermione stepped up to the group congregated in the far corner of the common room. "What are you doing Mione? This meeting's for team members only."

"You go right ahead with your 'team members only' discussion," she leveled back, "Harry and I need to do our rounds."

"But, he's our Seeker!" Ron retorted. "Besides, he's supposed to take it easy."

"It's okay Ron," Harry interjected, "I think I'm going to call it a night. We're almost finished anyway, right?"

"Well …"

"Come on Harry, it's late and I want to get to bed before midnight."

He pushed himself up out of the chair and the two exited the common room.

They slowly worked their way along the seventh floor. After they checked out the remote short hallway at the east end (a favorite make-out spot), she cast a Muffliato before commenting, "It sure is odd about Professor Snape."

"Yeah."

"I'm actually a little worried about him," she pressed in hopes he'd take the bait and tell her what was going on between him and Snape.

"Me too."

So much for bait. She grabbed hold of his arm and turned him to face her. "Listen Harry, I know this is none of my business … but it's obvious, at least to me, that something is going on between you and Professor Snape."

Her words took him off guard. "Wha … that … you're crazy Mione."

"Oh, come on. Don't you think I know you by now?" You …" Her demeanor shifted suddenly from defiance to one of softness. "You care for him, and he cares for you. It's obvious the way the two of you look at each other."

Harry stared speechlessly at her. Sev would be livid if this got out. "Please don't say anything, Mione ... please."

"Of course I won't," she assured. "But when did all this happen?"

"It's complicated," he sighed, "please don't ask me to explain." Now that Hermione knew and he could let his guard down, his green eyes brightened from his fears. "I'm so worried Mione. Something's happened to him, I just know it."

"Have you spoken to the Headmaster?"

He nodded and made to cast a Muffliato.

"I already cast one," she said.

"Oh." He still gave a quick glance left and right. "This is going to come out in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning."

"What is?"

"There was an attack on Azkaban two nights ago and a bunch of Death Eaters escaped."

"What?"

The Headmaster told me not to say anything, but he thinks that's why Severus was summoned."

"Oh Harry."

"Dumbledore said that Severus sent his Patronus to him, early yesterday morning."

That's just about the time you started feeling ill."

"Yeah, I managed to figure that out already."

"Sorry," she whined … which didn't help. "But listen, I know he'll be okay. I mean, we're talking about Professor Snape."

"He's not invincible!"

"I realize that," she snapped right back, "but you know as well as I, that he's smart and experienced at this sort of thing."

Even though she was right, her words didn't bring him much comfort.

"Harry Potter!"

Both Harry and Hermione startled at the sudden appearance of Dobby. Then Harry quickly and effortlessly, not to mention wandlessly, ended Hermione's Muffliato charm.

"What is it Dobby?"

"Harry Potter is asking Dobby to report when Professor Snape is returning."

"He's back?"

"Yes and Harry Potter must be coming with Dobby quickly!"

"Why? Is he hurt?"

The elf donned a curious expression as he held out Harry's Invisibility Cloak. "Harry Potter must be coming quickly with Dobby," he repeated.

Harry turned to Hermione. "You gotta cover for me Mione. Tell Ron I had to go see the Headmaster, or something."

"Okay, but won't you need help?"

Harry shook his head. "Knowing Sev ..."

She noted his use of the nickname, but didn't interrupt.

"If he's not hurt, then it's something … private." Harry worriedly ran his hand through his hair. "No, I'd better go alone."

He pulled Dobby next to him then swung his cloak to cover them both and they immediately vanished.

~SH~

"He's in there?" Harry whispered with surprise as he pointed to Severus private laboratory.

Dobby nodded.

Harry looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one was around, and then took off his cloak. "I'll take it from here."

"Will Harry Potter be needing help?" Dobby looked up with wide eyes full of concern.

Harry knelt down, "Do me a favor."

"Anything Dobby can be doing for Harry Potter, Dobby is happy to be doing!" he said and nearly jumped up and down in his stocking clad feet.

"After everyone's gone to bed, sneak in and line up the pillows on my bed and then pull the blanket over them, so that it looks like me."

Dobby stared questioningly at his favorite wizard, "Dobby is thinking that Harry Potter's friends will not be thinking that the pillows are being Harry Potter."

"Close the drapes around my bed closed, but leave them open a crack. They all know Madame Pomfrey gave me something to sleep, and they won't try to wake me."

Dobby started to pull on his ear, "Well … all right. Dobby will be doing this for Harry Potter."

He patted Dobby on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll be okay," he added softly. "And thanks for helping me."

Not terribly reassured, Dobby vanished and Harry turned to face the door. He cast one more cautious glance down the hallway, then quietly turned the handle and stepped inside.

Severus was at the opposite end of the room standing halfway inside a large storage cupboard.

"Sev?"

Severus didn't respond. He didn't even seem to realize that Harry was there, but instead continued to move around vial after vial — apparently searching for something.

"Are you okay?" Harry tried again as he walked closer until he stood beside Severus. "What are you looking for?"

"It's not here," Severus said in a desperate tone. "It should be here. Right here! I always keep it here." He spoke in a rushed voice as he repeatedly jabbed his pointed finger at one particular spot on the shelf.

Harry gently laid his hand upon Severus' shoulder and felt that he was trembling.

"Let me help. What d'you need?"

Severus staggered back a couple of steps. "There isn't any," he said and dragged his shaking hand down his sweaty cheek. "I remember now; I was going to make more this winter."

"Make what?" Harry asked urgently. He was scared. He'd never seen Severus or anybody for that fact, act like this.

Severus leaned against the wall and slid down to a crouched position. "What am I going to do?" he asked forlornly and began to rock his torso forward and backward. "I must prepare more of the draught."

Harry knelt down and grabbed a hold of him, trying to stop his rocking. "What draught?"

"Peace." He looked desperately to Harry. "I need peace."

Harry's heart raced with fear. "Peace? I don't understand. You need …" Then he gasped with realization. "You're trying to make the Draught of Peace?"

Severus tried to get up, "Hellebore. I need to harvest Hellebore for the syrup."

"Listen to me Sev, you're not going anywhere. Something happened to you, I don't know what; but I'm gonna get help." He started to call for Dobby but stopped when Severus let out a blood curdling scream.

"No!"

Harry fell off kilter, not only from shock but from the fact that Severus had in turn grabbed a hold of him - soundly.

"No one can see me like this!" Severus yelled. "I must be strong! Always … strong!"

He pushed Harry away to the floor, struggled to a stance and then staggered out of the lab.

Harry was shocked. It took him a moment, but he scrambled to his feet and then took off down the hallway after Severus.

He found the distraught man wedged into a corner of his sitting room with his hands over his face. "How could he do that to her?" he sobbed. "Why did he have to do that to her?"

Harry stood aghast and stared helplessly at his friend. Then he remembered the vial from Madame Pomfrey and snatched it from his pocket. "Look Sev! I found some!" He took a sniff, not sure if Severus would be able to smell the second potion. "Here, drink this."

Severus willingly drank the entire contents then sucked in a breath of shock. "It's not pure. It's not ..." The potion hit him like a ton of bricks and he crumpled to the floor before Harry could react.

"Oh God!" Harry dropped down beside him. "Are you okay?"

Severus wrapped his arms around himself and began to mumble to himself.

"Listen Sev, it'll be okay," Harry said in a consoling tone. "I'll take care of you. Don't worry."

Harry stood up and levitated Severus, still mumbling to himself, to his bedroom and then lowered him gently on his bed.

Severus immediately rolled onto his side and curled up into a fetal position. "The stairs."

Harry sat down and laid a blanket over Severus as he continued with his incoherent remarks, but at least now he was relaxed. "She screamed," he said in a thin and feeble tone.

Harry had been brushing Severus' damp hair away from his clammy brow when those last few words struck him with a cold familiarity.

Screaming? Stairs? He grasped Severus' clenched hand, "Are you talking about your nightmare?"

"She died." The tears, rolling down his cheeks, pooled and began to make a wet spot on his pillow.

"Sev, who are you talking about?" Harry asked, and his word shook upon his trembling voice. "Who was she?"

Severus answered in a whisper as he drifted off to sleep, "Her name was Rosa."

~SH~

Author's notes:

*Chapter title and opening lines taken from Adam Lambert's beautiful ballad: Broken Open.