Both of these are short so I decided to stick them together please read and REVIEW (constructive criticism is much appreciated),Crucio really is a stand alone, its about the man that, aside from Lupin, fascinates me the most in these books.... Sejanus is important too, but that will come later, for now enjoy. In the toast you meet Gabriel, who becomes very important... anyway for all you legal gurus...
DISCLAIMER- Severus and Crouch and Harry and Ron and Lupin and Sirius and Dumbledore... you get the idea, they're all JK's and Gabriel, Livia and Sejanus are their own
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER IV-- CRUCIO
Sitting in his squashy armchair, Severus stared out at the growing assembly of aurors-- young and old alike, the untried moving among the scarred. For no one, himself included, had escaped this war unscathed. Smiling cynically to himself, he knew that fifteen years ago, he would have never been caught dead in the company he was holding tonight, he would never in his wildest dreams pay court to a man like Albus Dumbledore...
April 28, 1979
...Severus Snape had never known his father, and yet... he treasured his memory more than any man dead or alive.
The elder Snape was a noble man, noble in the legacy of Salzar Slytherin-- he devoted his life to his work as an "anti-auror), searching out those who dared challenge the doctrine laid down by the most farseeing of the four founders of Hogwarts. After lobbying the Ministry of Magic for a bill limiting Muggle rights (and through them, Muggle borns) he was identified by the so called "Tolerance Movement" of wizards as a threat to their precious stability, a stability built wholly on their contaminated blood.
There were orders to simply question Snape-- make sure he was still loyal to the all-knowing ministry, but Barty Crouch found him first. Crouch tortured him, with the Cruciatus curse, over and over... with the agonizing pain, trying to get him to confess his involvement in a coup on the Ministry. Snape had died that night, a martyr for his beliefs. There was a mock inquiry, but Crouch got off with a small fine... it almost seemed like the ministry had wanted him dead...
Severus had never forgotten his father. It was for his father that he had eaten up every bit of dark knowledge he could find, for his father that he had done everything in his power to honor Slytherin, for his father that he had received the brand, entered into the brotherhood... joined the Death Eaters.
Severus had never found it in his heart to like the second Barty Crouch, death eater though he was-- even more zealous the Severus himself, but as they traipsed through the tiny town of Wycham, he couldn't help but admire the man. Masked behind the seemingly innocent exterior of a naive eighteen-year-old boy was a feral animal, unable to hold back against the call of his bloodlust. Severus had seen the way Crouch's eyes gleamed whenever he killed someone, he had seen the look of absolute power he had when standing over a weeping victim. In all terms of the word, Crouch was a sadist-- and he channeled that desire for one man alone... Lord Voldemort.
The brisk spring air quailed as Crouch stopped abruptly, sniffing the air like a beast of prey, "This is it, Severus," He smiled, a mad glint in his eye. The tiny home they had stopped in front of seemed hardly suited to be the sight of a murder, and murder it would become if Livia didn't give them what they needed. The bright little windows winked genially at them, the white picket fence-- geraniums, bright red even in the dark of night, seemed to perfect, to serene. Walking up to the doorstep, Crouch stepped into the dim light of the porch, Severus in his wake... he rang the doorbell... ding dong...
...a clicking of high heels... the sound of an opening door... a woman's bright smile...
"Barty, Severus, come in!" Feeling a wave of adrenaline and supreme power, Snape stepped through the doorjam, Livia had walked right into their trap. He heard crouch lock the deadbolt, a scrape of steel upon steel... Livia stared at their black robes, their pale faces, the maniac grin spread across Crouch's face, and slowly, slowly, comprehension began to grow. "Get away from me..."
Crouch spoke in a low voice, threatening, the voice of a predator speaking to its prey, "Who killed Sejanus, Livia?"
Her face showed confusion, "What? He's in Azkaban..."
"He is also dead, Livia," he rolled her name off his tongue like an expletive.
"With a knife through his back," Severus said, drawing closer to the frightened woman.
"Who killed Sejanus?" Crouch sneered, "Answer me! Crucio!"
A look of raw terror passed through Livia's eyes as she began to scream, "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!"
"CRUCIO!" Crouch roared again, and this time Livia fell to the floor, twitching, moaning, writing in a sadistic dance of pure untapped agony. Her mouth opened, and out of it came an unearthly shriek expressing pain never meant to have been felt by a human being...
And then, Severus saw it. He saw his father in Livia, in the shaking screaming form, he saw the last moments of the man he devoted his life too, the man who had sent him onto this road of hate. He felt the pain, felt the agony, felt the guilt...
"Stop!" he cried, his voice forming the words as his mind wrenched with pain...
Crouch lowered his wand, looking at Severus with a scornful expression, "Stop?" he said, making the word a blow, an insult...
"She doesn't know..." Severus murmured, fishing desperately, his mind impeded by the blistering shouts of agony that had just been carved into his psyche forever, "We'll get nothing here."
Crouch looked at him and nodded, "Avada Kedavra," there was a flash of green light, and a whistling of wind, and Livia was lying there, on the floor... her panicked eyes sightless and blank, her screams still echoing in the cozy living room.
The next day, Severus had gone to Dumbledore.
----
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER V-- AURORS MEETING
Fred and George's room seemed extra-small as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins tried to find some way to coexist in the cramped space. Strictly forbidden from coming downstairs by Mrs. Weasley, the five of them were trying to listen to the Aurors meeting downstairs through the air vent, so far the only distinguishable thing was chatter.
"Ow Fred, that was my foot!"
"Come on Ginny... scoot!"
"I don't have any room!"
"This isn't going to work," said Harry grinning as the five of them all tried to stick their ears into a six inch vent.
"You just figured that out..." Fred sat up, rubbing his head.
"Shhh!" George hissed, "Come on, they're starting!"
Kneeling down again, Harry could hear the ring of a voice-- unmistakably Dumbledore. "My friends-- thank you for coming on such short notice. In times like these, when it seems the world is falling apart from inside, the only chance of survival is banded together as a community, rather than individuals. That is why I called this meeting. I want to introduce-- er-- re-introduce an old friend, Sirius?"
There was a collective gasp from around the room and the distinctive clink of breaking china, in which Harry supposed Sirius revealed himself from wherever he had been hiding. A low growl sounded from below them, "What game are you playing at, Dumbledore?"
"I am not playing any games," the old man's tone was level, "we cannot afford to loose them."
"I would rather have died than hurt Lily or James, you all know that," Sirius said.
"We did know that Black," a voice said, "But you betrayed our trust in you. No offense meant to you sir-- but Dumbledore never wanted to believe that you were guilty. He could never see you for the scum that you are." With a start, Harry realized the man speaking was Mad-Eye Moody.
"It was Pettigrew..." Sirius began, but his voice was toneless and dead, the voice of the prisoner from Azkaban.
Moody just laughed.
"It's true," Snape's cold snarl cut Moody's scorn short. "All of you know how... fond... Mr. Black and I are of each other. and you know undoubtedly realize how I jump at the opportunity to lie on his behalf. Sirius is innocent." Harry felt a wave of shock pass over him... Snape of all people, backing up Sirius?
There was a sudden silence in the room, a silence where the tension was strung so tightly it was palpable. "Thank you," said Sirius suddenly, his words stepping over an eternity of enmity and hate, and towards a man he had never paused to know.
No one seemed to want to break the moment, Harry could feel Dumbledore's smile radiating upwards through the vent... but finally necessity came to light, and a hoarse voice Harry hadn't heard for more than a year broke the hush, :It was Peter Pettigrew, Lily and James changed secret keepers at the last moment..." and so Professor Lupin began the story that had changed Harry's life, the story that proved to him that he wasn't alone in the world, that he had Sirius, his godfather, his guardian, his friend.
Silence reigned once again when Lupin finished, silence broken suddenly by the voice of Professor McGonagall, "Fudge must be told."
"Fudge was told," Lupin said, "He didn't listen."
A new voice spoke up, "Publish it in the Daily Prophet, along with the events at the Triwizard Cup. If Fudge bends to anything, its public opinion."
"What d'you want t'do?" a musical Scottish accent exclaimed indignantly, "Cause wide scale panic?"
"And what about the Diggorys?" Mrs. Weasley of course, "They'd have to relive the whole tragedy."
"A Prophet story would... revolutionize the entire situation!" the voice exclaimed, "There wouldn't be three different camps anymore, us, Voldemort, and the Ministry... there'd only be two... us and Voldemort--"
Moody cut in cynically, "And how would your story do this?"
"People would question authority," the voice was excited, the tone of one who had just undergone epiphany, "They would begin to think for themselves and not allow Fudge to tell them what to believe, and then, if the rest of the country knew the truth... he'd have to face up to it!"
"Or pass it off as tabloid journalism," said Snape, with the trace of a sneer in his voice.
"Perhaps," the voice assented, "But the truth would still be known, and what harm could it do?"
"Harm to a grieving family, Gabriel," Lupin said softly.
The voice-- Gabriel-- fell silent.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Aurors, friends, thank you. In all my years against Voldemort, I could not have asked for a better crew to man this vessel we are about to sail into the eye of a storm. Is it strong enough? Is it big enough? All these questions are irrelevant now, all we can do is hope, and fight, to reach the other side alive." He paused slightly, "Well, enough of stuffy old metaphors... a toast-- to Sirius!"
Twenty voices united into one as wine glasses were raised, "To Sirius!"
DISCLAIMER- Severus and Crouch and Harry and Ron and Lupin and Sirius and Dumbledore... you get the idea, they're all JK's and Gabriel, Livia and Sejanus are their own
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER IV-- CRUCIO
Sitting in his squashy armchair, Severus stared out at the growing assembly of aurors-- young and old alike, the untried moving among the scarred. For no one, himself included, had escaped this war unscathed. Smiling cynically to himself, he knew that fifteen years ago, he would have never been caught dead in the company he was holding tonight, he would never in his wildest dreams pay court to a man like Albus Dumbledore...
April 28, 1979
...Severus Snape had never known his father, and yet... he treasured his memory more than any man dead or alive.
The elder Snape was a noble man, noble in the legacy of Salzar Slytherin-- he devoted his life to his work as an "anti-auror), searching out those who dared challenge the doctrine laid down by the most farseeing of the four founders of Hogwarts. After lobbying the Ministry of Magic for a bill limiting Muggle rights (and through them, Muggle borns) he was identified by the so called "Tolerance Movement" of wizards as a threat to their precious stability, a stability built wholly on their contaminated blood.
There were orders to simply question Snape-- make sure he was still loyal to the all-knowing ministry, but Barty Crouch found him first. Crouch tortured him, with the Cruciatus curse, over and over... with the agonizing pain, trying to get him to confess his involvement in a coup on the Ministry. Snape had died that night, a martyr for his beliefs. There was a mock inquiry, but Crouch got off with a small fine... it almost seemed like the ministry had wanted him dead...
Severus had never forgotten his father. It was for his father that he had eaten up every bit of dark knowledge he could find, for his father that he had done everything in his power to honor Slytherin, for his father that he had received the brand, entered into the brotherhood... joined the Death Eaters.
Severus had never found it in his heart to like the second Barty Crouch, death eater though he was-- even more zealous the Severus himself, but as they traipsed through the tiny town of Wycham, he couldn't help but admire the man. Masked behind the seemingly innocent exterior of a naive eighteen-year-old boy was a feral animal, unable to hold back against the call of his bloodlust. Severus had seen the way Crouch's eyes gleamed whenever he killed someone, he had seen the look of absolute power he had when standing over a weeping victim. In all terms of the word, Crouch was a sadist-- and he channeled that desire for one man alone... Lord Voldemort.
The brisk spring air quailed as Crouch stopped abruptly, sniffing the air like a beast of prey, "This is it, Severus," He smiled, a mad glint in his eye. The tiny home they had stopped in front of seemed hardly suited to be the sight of a murder, and murder it would become if Livia didn't give them what they needed. The bright little windows winked genially at them, the white picket fence-- geraniums, bright red even in the dark of night, seemed to perfect, to serene. Walking up to the doorstep, Crouch stepped into the dim light of the porch, Severus in his wake... he rang the doorbell... ding dong...
...a clicking of high heels... the sound of an opening door... a woman's bright smile...
"Barty, Severus, come in!" Feeling a wave of adrenaline and supreme power, Snape stepped through the doorjam, Livia had walked right into their trap. He heard crouch lock the deadbolt, a scrape of steel upon steel... Livia stared at their black robes, their pale faces, the maniac grin spread across Crouch's face, and slowly, slowly, comprehension began to grow. "Get away from me..."
Crouch spoke in a low voice, threatening, the voice of a predator speaking to its prey, "Who killed Sejanus, Livia?"
Her face showed confusion, "What? He's in Azkaban..."
"He is also dead, Livia," he rolled her name off his tongue like an expletive.
"With a knife through his back," Severus said, drawing closer to the frightened woman.
"Who killed Sejanus?" Crouch sneered, "Answer me! Crucio!"
A look of raw terror passed through Livia's eyes as she began to scream, "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!"
"CRUCIO!" Crouch roared again, and this time Livia fell to the floor, twitching, moaning, writing in a sadistic dance of pure untapped agony. Her mouth opened, and out of it came an unearthly shriek expressing pain never meant to have been felt by a human being...
And then, Severus saw it. He saw his father in Livia, in the shaking screaming form, he saw the last moments of the man he devoted his life too, the man who had sent him onto this road of hate. He felt the pain, felt the agony, felt the guilt...
"Stop!" he cried, his voice forming the words as his mind wrenched with pain...
Crouch lowered his wand, looking at Severus with a scornful expression, "Stop?" he said, making the word a blow, an insult...
"She doesn't know..." Severus murmured, fishing desperately, his mind impeded by the blistering shouts of agony that had just been carved into his psyche forever, "We'll get nothing here."
Crouch looked at him and nodded, "Avada Kedavra," there was a flash of green light, and a whistling of wind, and Livia was lying there, on the floor... her panicked eyes sightless and blank, her screams still echoing in the cozy living room.
The next day, Severus had gone to Dumbledore.
----
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER V-- AURORS MEETING
Fred and George's room seemed extra-small as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins tried to find some way to coexist in the cramped space. Strictly forbidden from coming downstairs by Mrs. Weasley, the five of them were trying to listen to the Aurors meeting downstairs through the air vent, so far the only distinguishable thing was chatter.
"Ow Fred, that was my foot!"
"Come on Ginny... scoot!"
"I don't have any room!"
"This isn't going to work," said Harry grinning as the five of them all tried to stick their ears into a six inch vent.
"You just figured that out..." Fred sat up, rubbing his head.
"Shhh!" George hissed, "Come on, they're starting!"
Kneeling down again, Harry could hear the ring of a voice-- unmistakably Dumbledore. "My friends-- thank you for coming on such short notice. In times like these, when it seems the world is falling apart from inside, the only chance of survival is banded together as a community, rather than individuals. That is why I called this meeting. I want to introduce-- er-- re-introduce an old friend, Sirius?"
There was a collective gasp from around the room and the distinctive clink of breaking china, in which Harry supposed Sirius revealed himself from wherever he had been hiding. A low growl sounded from below them, "What game are you playing at, Dumbledore?"
"I am not playing any games," the old man's tone was level, "we cannot afford to loose them."
"I would rather have died than hurt Lily or James, you all know that," Sirius said.
"We did know that Black," a voice said, "But you betrayed our trust in you. No offense meant to you sir-- but Dumbledore never wanted to believe that you were guilty. He could never see you for the scum that you are." With a start, Harry realized the man speaking was Mad-Eye Moody.
"It was Pettigrew..." Sirius began, but his voice was toneless and dead, the voice of the prisoner from Azkaban.
Moody just laughed.
"It's true," Snape's cold snarl cut Moody's scorn short. "All of you know how... fond... Mr. Black and I are of each other. and you know undoubtedly realize how I jump at the opportunity to lie on his behalf. Sirius is innocent." Harry felt a wave of shock pass over him... Snape of all people, backing up Sirius?
There was a sudden silence in the room, a silence where the tension was strung so tightly it was palpable. "Thank you," said Sirius suddenly, his words stepping over an eternity of enmity and hate, and towards a man he had never paused to know.
No one seemed to want to break the moment, Harry could feel Dumbledore's smile radiating upwards through the vent... but finally necessity came to light, and a hoarse voice Harry hadn't heard for more than a year broke the hush, :It was Peter Pettigrew, Lily and James changed secret keepers at the last moment..." and so Professor Lupin began the story that had changed Harry's life, the story that proved to him that he wasn't alone in the world, that he had Sirius, his godfather, his guardian, his friend.
Silence reigned once again when Lupin finished, silence broken suddenly by the voice of Professor McGonagall, "Fudge must be told."
"Fudge was told," Lupin said, "He didn't listen."
A new voice spoke up, "Publish it in the Daily Prophet, along with the events at the Triwizard Cup. If Fudge bends to anything, its public opinion."
"What d'you want t'do?" a musical Scottish accent exclaimed indignantly, "Cause wide scale panic?"
"And what about the Diggorys?" Mrs. Weasley of course, "They'd have to relive the whole tragedy."
"A Prophet story would... revolutionize the entire situation!" the voice exclaimed, "There wouldn't be three different camps anymore, us, Voldemort, and the Ministry... there'd only be two... us and Voldemort--"
Moody cut in cynically, "And how would your story do this?"
"People would question authority," the voice was excited, the tone of one who had just undergone epiphany, "They would begin to think for themselves and not allow Fudge to tell them what to believe, and then, if the rest of the country knew the truth... he'd have to face up to it!"
"Or pass it off as tabloid journalism," said Snape, with the trace of a sneer in his voice.
"Perhaps," the voice assented, "But the truth would still be known, and what harm could it do?"
"Harm to a grieving family, Gabriel," Lupin said softly.
The voice-- Gabriel-- fell silent.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Aurors, friends, thank you. In all my years against Voldemort, I could not have asked for a better crew to man this vessel we are about to sail into the eye of a storm. Is it strong enough? Is it big enough? All these questions are irrelevant now, all we can do is hope, and fight, to reach the other side alive." He paused slightly, "Well, enough of stuffy old metaphors... a toast-- to Sirius!"
Twenty voices united into one as wine glasses were raised, "To Sirius!"