Author's Note: Edited after taking into account a very helpful guest review! Indeed, Snape never let his students come to much harm but I remembered that Hermione had to go see Madam Pomfrey because her front teeth were growing after Malfoy jinxed her. So I adjusted the severity of Cora's injuries accordingly. I try my best to portray Snape in character, I also argue that shortly after Lily's death, he might have been even meaner.

Chapter 2: Healing

When he came to again, he was lying on an uncomfortably hard bed, wrapped in sheets that smelled of moisture and dust, staring at a white ceiling. Hot pain had spread through him, into the very last cell of his body. His head was spinning.

"Good, you're awake." Cordelia Thorne stood not five feet away from him, in a jarring fuchsia robe, her hat sitting on her hair at a jaunty angle. She reminded him of Lockhart.

"You shouldn't have brought me back," he said and tried to sit up but she pointed her wand at him and bandages started tying him to the bed. He was too weak to resist. All he wanted was to close his eyes and see her eyes again, green and friendly. Instead, cold grey eyes sized him up.

"Nothing's so hard as man's ingratitude," Thorne sighed dramatically. "I saved your life."

Even with his senses dulled, he knew he had to get out of here.

"Where's my wand?" he asked.

"Safe." She smiled cruelly. "As you are safe here. Say, do you feel protected?"

She walked over to him, towering over him for once. "Yes. I thought so. If you're a good boy, I might give you your wand back when you're well. But if you misbehave...I wonder, do you know how many house points you cost me? Because I kept track."

Severus closed his eyes. Was this her petty revenge fantasy? It seemed so. And yet, he couldn't do anything against it.

"Enlighten me," he sneered in reply but it sounded much too tame.

"6375." That did sound as if it could be true.

"You ruined seven years of my life," she said and again, she was smiling, "But don't worry, I don't have the time to pay you back in kind."

"I saved your life," he crooked. His throat was dry.

"Why do you think I saved yours? Goodness of heart?" She laughed but it was joyless. "I didn't like being in your debt. I'm free now. A life for a life."

He coughed.

"Oh, are you thirsty?" she asked, as if bewildered. He clenched his jaw.

"Wait," she came over with a jug and a goblet. "Here –" she held it out to him, then giggled because his arms were still pinned to his side. "No. Sorry. Well I'll nurse you then." She held the goblet to his lips and, desperate, he drank.

Her grey eyes were hard as rock as she looked at him. She was enjoying herself immensely, he thought, the power she had over him. With growing disquiet did he notice that none of the anger had gone out from her. He had to get out of here. He had to get his wand back. The woman was no match for him, usually, but he was weakened by Nagini's poison and whatever she had done to him. Briefly, Severus closed his eyes and wished he was dead. But there was no use in that now. She wouldn't let him.

"Where have you brought me?" The room he was in was windowless and empty but for his bed, with peeling wallpapers and other unmistakable signs of neglect.

"My home. Well, it was, before my mother was murdered here. My aunt never sold it but she could never set a foot in here anymore. I, however, must say I think it is perfectly practical. Don't worry. You won't have to leave just yet. Your blood is still much too thin. Say what you want about your lord, but he knew how to kill spectacularly."

The Dark Lord. He had been too preoccupied with the here and now. He felt his mind protesting when he tried to remember his death in detail. He had been dead, of that he was certain. And judging by the pain in his chest, she had revived him with a compression charm, and she hadn't been too gentle about it either. Yet, his heart had started beating again, evidently. Though she had not found an antidote for the snake's poison yet, or he wouldn't be feeling like this. His own health wasn't all that important right now, however. Had he succeeded? Had he been able to protect her son? Had Potter succeeded where even Dumbledore had failed?

"Who won the war?" he asked.

"The boy." She searched his face for something though Severus didn't know whether she'd found it. "Thanks to you, he says. Half the ministry is out to bring you in but with the protection of the Boy Who Lived, you'll never see Azkaban from inside, I fear. And the Minister, too, has vouched for you. A double spy. Very clever. Now I understand why you saved my life, of course, I had wondered."

"You were in that pub on Shaklebolt's orders?" he asked, ignoring the information she had given him, perhaps unwittingly. If he had no reason to fear persecution in the world outside this room, he had every reason to flee sooner rather than later.

"Assigned to charm these dimwits you worked with so that they'd give away all their sinister plans."

"I assume it was fruitful." She was passably attractive, he conceded, though of course utterly average, and she had a certain way about her that would certainly seduce lesser men. It had been that insincere charm that had bought her good grades at school. Only him she couldn't charm, so she had reverted to annoying him out of spite.

"Rather. Though I admit, murdering these men was never part of the deal. The Order didn't appreciate that kind of cowardly slaughter." She seemed almost disappointed that her methods had been met with so little acceptance.

"Hardly cowardly," he said, though he never meant for the words to leave his mind. What had she given him to drink?

"Ah, truth," she smiled. "I had wondered how long it would take. Now, Severus Snape, you will tell me whether you were really true to our side."

She had played him. His fists clenched in anger but there was nothing he could do. He had to clear his head. This fog clouded his judgement.

"I was," he admitted briskly.

She waited.

"For seventeen years, I was always loyal to Albus Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix, and their cause."

He dreaded her next question, the why, but it never came.

"That is enough for me. Congratulations. I'm not alerting the authorities." She rose from the bed and set down the goblet next to him, then she used her wand to fill the empty jug with clear water.

"They will wonder where I've been," he said. It was the truth and it was a threat. Hiding him was illegal, keeping him captive was worse.

"Yes. You'll make up another story, no doubt." She was already by the door. "Now, don't exert yourself. Your sick room is very well protected." And with a last, cruel smile, she closed the door.

She was right. Weak and shaking, he had risen from the bed, looking for a way to escape, trying to call his wand, but he was isolated in here. He barely made it back to the iron bedstead.

He would only have to overpower her physically. Yes, how hard can that be? he asked sarcastically. She was perhaps much shorter than him but he was weak and the wounds on his throat hadn't healed yet. If I can get a hold of her wand… He would have to try. Though not right away. Now, he would only be a laughing stock.

"Now, please," she said, as she entered the room what felt like a few hours later, "Don't try anything stupid. I promise that I will let you go as soon as you are healthy again. It would hurt me to prolong your stay here, but if you insist on attacking me, you leave me no choice."

Snape had served Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. He had endured cruelty, torture, interrogation. No one had ever gone out of his way to heal him. She hated him, he knew that much. Why would she do this?

"Drink this," she said. "Your skin looks even paler than usual. Which reminds me," she set down a jug, then conjured a mirror and turned it towards him. His reflection stared back at him, uglier than ever. "I had to reset your teeth. The venom made them fall out. You almost suffocated. Twice." Her voice was cheerful. As far as he could see, his teeth were perfectly in line, though he doubted she'd been that kind.

"Why?" he asked, never minding his teeth.

Cordelia Thorne looked at him thoughtfully for a long time and Severus wondered whether she had to come up with the answer for herself.

"Because I hate you," she replied slowly. "And I want to go back to hating you with a clear conscience. So I will nurse you back to health. The Hospital is crowded and there are quite a few people who hate you almost as fiercely as I do. So St Mungo's not really the safest place for you. I haven't gone through this just to allow you to get killed like an idiot."

Unfortunately, through his seething rage, the faintest hint of understanding for her welled up inside him. But it didn't matter. He had done what he had promised Dumbledore all those years ago. She shouldn't have saved his life, she shouldn't have forced him to cling to this pathetic existence.

"And, of course," she said, "I still have to get even for those seven years. So, I'll see you later, Snape."

Before she could close the door completely, he darted over to the door as quickly as he could but it fell shut and her laughter rang hollow on the other side of the doorway.

"Pathetic," she said, mimicking his tone exactly. Severus shook with rage. He tore at the sleeves of the nightgown she had put him in. After a while, he calmed down, sniffed the jug and drank. If he wanted to take his revenge, he would need his strength. She wouldn't laugh at him again.

"Here," she came in, carrying a large measuring jug that contained a light green liquid. "I finally managed to brew an antidote for that vicious snake's venom. Or, I think so, at least. We'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

"Why bring me here only to kill me anyway?" he asked.

"Oh, but have a little more faith in my abilities. I had the very best Potions teacher, after all, didn't I? Or so he thinks, at least." She stopped eight feet away from him, jug in hand, eyes on him at all times. It was a little unsettling.

"Do not presume to know what I'm thinking," he gave back. This girl had no idea what he had been through, what he had risked...Self-righteous brat.

"The thing is, Snape, you are not at all in the position to tell me what to presume. And right now, it isn't especially difficult to read your mind." For a second, she looked downright disgusted. "Well, save your torture fantasies for later if you please. I am sure you have noticed that you are in no fit condition to fight me."

"No," he said disdainfully, "you keep me here, poisoned, wounded, drugged, bereft of my wand. Otherwise, you wouldn't dare to do so much as jinx me. You're a coward." He spat out the last word but she didn't even flinch.

"Call me what you want, if it eases your conscience. But, pray tell me, how much courage does it take to abuse your power as a teacher and bully young children? How much courage does it take to humiliate those that have been entrusted to your care? How much courage does it take to vent your anger on those that cannot fight back?"

Once again, she seemed to be afire with rage.

"Don't –" he started but she cut him off.

"No answer? How unfortunate." Her imitation of him was painfully spot-on. "10 points from you, I would say. Blimey, that leaves you in the negatives."

"You cannot keep me in here forever. Once I've recovered, you'll wish you had let me die." His insides were burning with pain. Whatever she had done to him so far, she had only accomplished that he died more slowly and in even more agony.

"Oh, that's not so far-fetched. Until last autumn, I was completely that way inclined."

She moved towards him slowly, cautiously, he noticed with a grim satisfaction. She was scared of him. She had every reason to be.

"I am not drinking that," he said. Her antidote was thick and lumpy. If he had to choose between taking death at the Dark Lord's hands or hers, he knew whom he'd pick. He'd be united with her after all.

"I had hoped you'd say that," she grinned. "It gives me the opportunity to force this down your throat."

And she whipped her wand out. A second later, Severus was pressed against the uncomfortably hard bed, felt invisible fingers force his jaw open and pinch his nose. Then, she poured the foul-tasting liquid into his mouth. It burned. He could choose: choke or swallow. He swallowed.

"Now, who's a good patient?" she asked. Severus still had no control over his body. Slowly, deliberately, she ran a long finger down his cheek, proof of his utter powerlessness.

He could only dream of his revenge...and if it landed him in Azkaban, he'd – but no. Her potion would surely kill him. Or otherwise, Nagini's venom. Death was certain.

Much to his chagrin, however, he did not die. Instead, he noticed he was getting better. The fever subsided, he finally had full control over his body again. Even the pain lessened immensely. Now he chided himself. He should have kept quiet. He shouldn't have revealed so much. Now, she would be on her guard. Still, all her curses and poisons wouldn't help her when he would take his revenge. The thought kept him strong.

"Are we behaving now?" she asked him as she entered again, this time in an extravagant emerald robe. So, a new day had begun.

He sat on the hard bed, his back against the wall. He felt his strength return steadily. Did she?

Snape slumped on purpose. If she underestimated him, soon enough, he would gain the upper hand. And that incident at the pub would be like a summer rain compared to his storm. She would pay, he thought, and imagined the things he would do to her in return.

"Happy thoughts, huh?" She stood tall. "Venom does that to your mind, I heard. I'm happy to finally be able to test the theory."

And the next second, images flashed past his inner eye: The Dark Lord in the Shrieking Shack, the Potter boy, his eyes, drowning out everything else, the Carrows in Hogwarts, torturing Neville Longbottom, Severus watching, concealed in the shadows, Severus on the floor of Black's house, her photo in hand, tearstained and torn.

Then it stopped. Her expression was unreadable. The anger that he had subdued as well as he could boiled inside him. She had no right to take all this, no right to look at him like this –

"You will regret this."

"I doubt it. This, Professor, is a lesson for you. I pay you back in kind. You might not remember. It was my third year. Someone had stolen unicorn hair from your supply closet. You suspected me. Then you forced your way into my mind."

"You had taken the unicorn hair." He remembered faintly. The girl had been rather accomplished at occlumency then, for a third year, but no match for him. He couldn't remember what he had seen in her mind that would cause her to be so angry now.

"Of course. I had asked you to provide me with some earlier for a potion I'd been making and you had refused."

Of course he had. He had been her teacher, not her servant.

"I had every right –"

A hot whip slapped him across the face and silenced him.

"I was a girl of thirteen. You had no right. I never told Dumbledore, though you did it again, didn't you? To Tybalt Jones. And he did tell the headmaster."

Yes, that had been an uncomfortable conversation. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Your endeavours to make me a better person will be fruitless," he said instead. He even managed a sneer. Better people than her had tried and failed.

"A better person?" she laughed. "I don't care what becomes of you, Snape. But I will make you see your faults. According to my calculations you have five days until you're sufficiently recovered to attack me." Three, he thought, with satisfaction, then he remembered and kept his mind blank.

"And I will use my time wisely."

"The minor inconveniences you might have encountered in your life don't interest me." He had been a double spy half his life. This was a pathetic attempt to make him uncomfortable.

"I don't care what interests you. I will tell you because I want to. You are nothing but an extra in my play. You will sit there and listen to what I say and I will humiliate you and mistreat you and there is no way for you to escape. I don't give a shrunken head what you think." Her face lit up in rage. Her wand was raised. Slowly, careful not to think about it at all, he straightened in his seat. But she smiled and he knew it had been futile.

"You want this, huh?" she waved her wand. "No, I don't think so."

Invisible shackles chained him to the bed.

"Are you comfortable?" she smiled again. "Good.. Because I don't know yet when I'll be back. Do you remember what this is referring to? I'll tell you what, when I come back and you can tell me, I'll award you five points. Earn fifty and, who knows, I might set you free early."

The door fell shut behind her but the shackles stayed. It took him an embarrassingly long time to shake them off.

Cora had much on her hands these days. She had taken care of Mulciber during the Battle of Hogwarts, and while she wasn't personally responsible for the murders of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, her mother, she felt, had been sufficiently avenged. It did leave her with a grim satisfaction that was only occasionally clouded by guilt. Taking lives had initially felt quite easy, yet sometimes, she still woke up screaming after an especially gruesome dream had featured Jugson's bleeding face or Mulciber's final, curel laugh. She couldn't occupy herself with thoughts like these, however. For although Severus Snape seemed to think she was foolish enough to kidnap him like this without at all concerning herself with her own security, she had made the necessary precautions and it was imperative that she stuck to her schedule. Your endeavours to make me a better person will be fruitless. How proudly he had said this. How could one arm oneself in anger and cruelty? It didn't matter. She had never meant to change him. She only wanted him to pay for the years, the opportunities he had ruined. For the years of fear and helpless rage, for the tears she had cried, the guilt that had overcome her every time he had signed her essays with a mean little D. And then, when she felt they were even, she would let him go and seek refuge in the safest place she knew.

Snape was wracking his brain, meanwhile. What had she been referring to? He couldn't remember. Of course, he wouldn't play her sick little game. Still, he needed to know exactly who he was dealing with. Cordelia Thorne, he thought, trying to jog his memory. But it had been a long time and he had had many students, and many insubordinate Gryffindors. By now, he remembered that she had riled him up even more than the others. It had been a year after her death. He had never been so much out of control as during his first years in Hogwarts. He couldn't quite remember why Thorne had aggravated him so much.

"I see you have not remembered." She entered in the same robe but it felt like it had been a day. He had to be careful. She liked to play with him.

"Well, then let me help you. I was in fifth grade then, and I had felt the necessity to put Benedict Nott in his place because nobody else would."

The eldest Nott boy. Snape began to remember. They had clashed often.

"We got detention. Nott, I, and some of his fine Slytherin chums. And then, you simply locked the door and left me alone with the scum of the year."

"You wanted to become an auror," he recalled, "It was apt practise, wasn't it?"

He enjoyed the thought of her crassly outnumbered in a locked room immensely. Of course, he wouldn't need any accomplices to take his revenge.

"I had to go up to the hospital wing," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Usually, I would say that must have been a character moulding experience, yet, you don't seem to have learned from it," he gave back smoothly. He needed her to lose control and judging by the way she was shaking, she was almost there. But then, she simply inhaled deeply and replied, in a very calm and serene voice: "You see, I did. That is, of course, why you're here."

Had she pretended earlier or was she pretending now?

"While I enjoy this wallowing in reminiscences, I fail to understand what exactly you hope to achieve. Surely you know that I don't care about your self-pity. And you might be intolerably thick but I think you are aware of what I will do to you once I have healed."

She cocked her head in that unnerving way, her wand pointing at him. She was never unattentive, unfortunately.

"I thank you for your kind warning but I assure you, it is quite unnecessary."

Cora stared down at him. He looked even worse than usually. The snake had drained all colour from him, he looked positively yellow and his hair was greasier than ever. Still, despite the still lingering signs of the attack, she felt he was gaining strength. And if he caught her here, her protection was useless. Cora couldn't say all this had made her feel any better. She had hoped this revenge would have eased the pain of her school years, like killing her mother's murderers had, but it hadn't. Although it was definitely satisfying to see him like this, weak, powerless, trembling with rage.

"I'll be back." She closed the door behind her, locked it carefully, then she packed the few belongings she had taken with her to the house and left. Only later, when she had reached her safe haven, did she dare to release him. That was not the famed Gryffindor bravery but it was what had kept her alive.

Snape waited. He felt much better now, definitely good enough to subdue this witch, but she took her time. The house was quiet. Severus walked over to the door. He sniffed the handle, listened intently. There was no sign of a curse. Gingerly, he put his fingers on the handle, nothing happened. Then he pushed it down. The door swung open. He left his prison and stood in an empty hallway that bore the same marks of decay as the room she had kept him in. Right in front of him on the dusty floor lay his robes, torn and crusted with blood, and on top of them, his wand. Pinned to them was a sheet of parchment. The looped, angled handwriting was unfamiliar but it suited her arrogance. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. She had fled, coward that she was. He was well enough now to take her on. Did she truly consider this torture? He would show her what he meant by the term. Severus had perhaps not suffered, he conceded, not truly. Yet, she had done everthing she could to make him feel weak, to make him feel her power over his life. And for that, he would find her. And he would make her pay.

But first, he had to take care of his future. If he was to live, there was something he needed to do.

Author's Note: As Voldemort never found out Snape's true allegiance, I operated under the premise that Voldemort, always relying on his own abilities too much, never had Snape drink Veritaserum or any other potion to test his truthfulness, believing that no one could fool the (in his opinion) greatest Legilimens. It seems that a certain Potions master gave him a run for his money.

This chapter is the reason for my initial trigger warning. I simply wanted to establish a common ground for our two protagonists and give both of them a reason to hate each other.