As if Fate itself had been eavesdropping on the briefly optimistic thoughts making their way through the mind of one Severus Snape, Voldemort quickly recovered from his shock and sent a renewed barrage of spells toward James at an ever-increasing speed. As before, the man was able to mount an effective defense, his wand a blur as spells were intercepted with counters and transfigured shields. This time, though, James was also forced to sidestep and contort his body around the spells his wand wasn't able to catch, so thick was the onslaught of harmful magic being sent his way.
However, before Severus could decide on the best way to assist, he watched in shock as James took a spear of ice that had slipped through his defenses to the shoulder; Voldemort clenched his fist with a shout of satisfaction and the ice seemed to explode. James was sent flying backward with a great spray of blood and chunks of flesh, skidded a great distance across the ground, bounced off of the fencing, and then lay unmoving, face-down, as a cloud of dust rose around him.
Lord Voldemort let out a self-satisfied sigh and began to stalk toward the still-prone form of James Potter, and Severus knew he had to act quickly before the man could deliver the coup de grace. Luckily, he had just the spell for the situation, for what was Voldemort now if not an enemy?
Severus angled his wand just so, gauging the speed at which Voldemort was moving compared to the speed his spell would take, aimed for what he believed that intersection point would be, concentrated fiercely on his desire to see the man torn to shreds, and silently cast Sectumsempra. As much as he would have preferred to use the killing curse, there was no doubt in his mind that Voldemort would detect that particular magical signature with enough time to avoid the attack. His spell, on the other hand, was almost invisible in comparison.
Some dark sense must have warned Lord Voldemort, however, as a translucent purplish oval shield sprang into life above the man's back. It managed to absorb the majority of the Sectumsempra before shattering with a discordant metallic crash; there was a spray of blood as Voldemort staggered slightly.
As he let out a roar of pain and rage and spun on the spot to begin searching for this latest assailant, James seemingly forgotten, Severus realized that this was the first time he'd ever seen the man bleed.
Voldemort called out into the night, "Face me, coward!" and held one clawed hand up high before raking it violently down. There was a sound like the tearing of silk, what felt like a blow to the back of Severus' head which caused him to stumble forward, and then he felt the disillusionment and other concealment spells dissipate, leaving him face to face with the Dark Lord.
Lord Voldemort seemed to be at a loss for words and Severus watched as his expression moved from rare shock to a much more familiar dark rage. Behind the man, Severus could see James stir slightly, with one hand clutching faintly at the dirt. He'd have to buy time for him to recover, somehow.
While his mind raced through different ways he could prevent himself from being ground into dust, Voldemort spoke, his voice carrying with it a darkly dangerous undertone, "You dare. You dare impersonate one of my most loyal servants, even down to the spell that he himself created?" The wand came up; not pointed at him, but up in the air as it began to go through a complicated series of motions. "Make no mistake; I will kill you for this insult, and it will not be a pleasant experience. First, however, I would know who you are!"
The Dark Lord's wand emitted a pulse of turquoise light; to his shock, Severus realized that this was something that he had read about in a recent journal. A theoretical means of detecting the presence and reversing the effects of Polyjuice and similar potions. For the man to cast it with such confidence, though, it would seem to be a bit more than that.
Naturally, it did nothing, and the shock was back on the Dark Lord's face. A sudden wave of fire was called up by a negligent gesture of the man's hand and Severus frantically put out the flames before they completely consumed his robes. The Dark Mark, however, was now on full display, and from the suddenly thunderous look on Voldemort's face it seemed he had come to the logical conclusion.
The Dark Lord's voice rose in a terrible yell, surely amplified by his latent magic, as the sheer volume seemed to cause the windows of nearby houses to rattle their frames. "Snape! I'll see you dead for this!" The wand whipped toward him and Severus skillfully deflected several brightly colored curses in rapid succession but he noticed too late the telltale red glow of a fully-powered Cruciatus Curse - not the paltry castings that Voldemort used for discipline, but one with the full weight of a Dark Lord's incandescent rage behind it - as it passed cleanly through his wand-based shield charm despite timing the parry perfectly.
Severus only had a fraction of a second to try and prepare himself for the agony; it wasn't ever going to be enough time.
A dull, splintering stake was being slowly driven through his chest with great hammer blows, each one causing him to shake convulsively as it steadily began to break through his ribcage; a burning cold seized his arms and legs, and he felt bits of himself begin to crumble and fall away, and were it not for the fact that his head was submerged in boiling oil he would have begged for mercy.
The pain was gone just as suddenly as it come over him. He stumbled backward in shock and barely managed to get his wand up to deflect the next two spells. In his shaken state, he didn't even notice the third until it struck him, lifted him from his feet, and slammed him against the outer walls of the Potter home hard enough to make the world flash once white with pain, and again as he fell forward and landed face down on the paved walkway. A distant, analytical part of his mind noted that Lily's shields must already have been up and running, otherwise he was sure he would have crashed through the walls.
He scrambled back onto his feet, breathing heavily through his mouth as blood fountained down his face from his ruined nose. The taste of blood was strong in his mouth as he raised his wand - how he kept ahold of it during that, he did not know - defensively as Voldemort approached him once more.
They exchanged spells again, and as before Severus was able to deflect the majority of the curses and other spells being sent his way, but defending was all he was able to manage in his current state… and he wouldn't be able to keep this up indefinitely.
Just before the rage at being so outmatched could take him, yet another Cruciatus made its mocking progress directly toward him. He desperately started the motions to summon a nearby rock to intercept the spell but Voldemort wordlessly cast the counter with a chilling laugh.
The curse hit him directly in the center of his chest.
A thousand needles dripping with acid were being jammed into his eyes, ears, and nose over and over again, his tongue was being eaten by ravenous ants, rusted barbed wire was sliding under all of his finger and toenails, his bones were shattering into thousands of tiny splinters as his skin sloughed off while what was left of him was burnt to ash. Unlike before, the cycle repeated over and over as the pain just went on, and on, and on…
Severus took several pained gasps for air as he was able to stop screaming, though the memories of the prolonged suffering made his hands tremble violently as he pushed himself painfully to his knees, as somewhere in the process of receiving this latest torture he had apparently fallen to the ground.
Voldemort took another step forward to seize the opening, raised his wand high, and gave him a look of utter contempt before roaring, "Avada Kedavra!"
Time seemed to slow for Severus as the bright green glow grew larger, larger, and larger still until it completely filled his vision. It was all he could do to remain kneeling as his death approached, still shaking madly from the pain of the latest torture curse, when at the last second a lion formed of mud and gravel leaped in front of him to swallow the spell before bursting into clods of dirt and stone that peppered the front of Severus's robes.
From the other side of the cratered and smoking front yard a cocky voice called out, "Oi, Voldemort! Did you forget about me?" Several more dirt and gravel lions were formed with a wave of James Potter's wand and they pounced as one, forcing Voldemort into some quick spell-work to dispose of them. Severus could see that the man had apparently cauterized the horrifically mangled mess of meat that was once his right shoulder and was now casting with his off hand. As were two other James Potters. Severus blinked several times but the vision remained just as sharp as it was improbable; there were currently three forms of James Potter, each sporting that same grievous injury, and all attacking the Dark Lord.
As the James trio continued to pepper the Dark Lord with various constructs, Lily ran up to Severus, shoved her shoulder under his armpit, and quickly dragged him behind a hedgerow before uncorking a vial she seemingly produced from thin air and placing it in his hand while simultaneously conjuring a domed shield around them, which moments later flared a deep crimson as it deflected several of the Dark Lord's spells.
He gave it a quick sniff - a partial remedy for the Cruciatus, clever woman - and downed it in one, feeling its soothing effects begin to help calm the tremors in his wand hand.
"The boy?"
"Hidden. Can you fight?" She was looking at him intently, beautiful green eyes wide as they flickered over his form to catalogue the state of him; he could see the underlying tension there, and her voice was tight with fear, "Dumbledore has been alerted - we just need to hold on; without the Fidelius there's nowhere we can hide anyway. Not from him."
From across the yard, James called out with a hint of desperation, "Guys, could use some help here!" Severus could see that he was now down to two of himself; the third was lying headless on the front lawn, limbs sprawled awkwardly and head nowhere to be seen. The wound looked almost as though a large creature had taken it off in a single bite, and Severus felt a hint of bile in the back of his throat. Did the man really need to make his golems so convincingly lifelike?
Without waiting for an answer, Lily waded into the fray, her wand alight with battle magic and Voldemort had to pull back from the assault that had just been about to overwhelm another James to defend from this new attack.
Could he fight? He pondered the question as the potion did its work, and he was able to calm his breathing as he forced himself unsteadily to his feet, wand back in hand.
There was only one way to find out.