Chapter Five
Author's Note: Well, I'm liking this story more and more as I get back into writing stuff in the wizarding world. Writing Muggle Snape was a bit... odd... to say the least. Like several others had mentioned, I'd never thought of Snape as being a Muggle either. But I digress. On with the story! I like this chapter, dark though it is.
* * *
The tabby huddled in the corner of the dirty, dank cage, licking at an oozing cut on her lick. Her once-bright eyes, now dulled by pain, stared out from behind the bars with a vacant look. It had been a week that she had remained in the cage, a week that she had been tortured by all means possible. A week... Merlin, it had seemed like months. She didn't know how much longer she could go on, or would even want to go on.
A beady-eyed rat snuffled towards her, smelling the blood that clung to her fur like a deadly perfume. She tensed, watching the rodent carefully, kneading her ragged claws into the concrete.
It came brazenly closer. She subconsciously licked her lips, becoming acutely aware of the gnawing hunger that tore at her empty stomach. The rat padded a few steps closer, and she pounced, ignoring the screaming in her limbs. Her sharp, broken claws dug into sinewy flesh and she stepped down hard on the creature's neck, breaking it instantly.
Weakly, she drug her prey back into the corner, where she gingerly began to eat, forcing herself to swallow the chokingly raw meat.
Before she had gotten far, the door outside her small cage swung open. Her eyes widened, the hairs along her spine standing straight up. Him.
A hooded figure slunk into the room flanked by Death Eaters, his red eyes glowing from within the confines of the robe. "Having a little snack, my dear?" he sneered. "Looks delicious." He bent and slid a bony hand inside the cage to grab the dead rat. She hissed and swiped her paw at him, cutting four slashes across the back of his hand.
He hissed angrily, though his was more serpentine than feline, as thick black blood oozed from the injuries. With the hiss came a curse. "Crucio!"
The cat yeowled and spasmed in pain, clawing at the ground until her nails splintered further and bled. Blood ran from her nose and mouth where she had gnashed her teeth. The hooded figure chuckled at the display and tossed the dead rat into the far corner of the room. Once the spell ran its course, the creature collapsed weakly to the ground, her fur soaked in blood and her limbs splayed almost bonelessly out.
"Learned your lesson, my pet?" he said in a soft, dangerous voice. "What is it that those ridiculous Muggles say... 'don't bite the hand that feeds you.' You should really know better, Minerva. Your antics are nothing better than pathetic attempts at bravado. You should know as well as any other that bravery never got anyone anywhere, including that fool Dumbledore."
The cat, none other than Minerva McGonagall, stirred slightly at the words, a light flickering in her dull eyes.
"He died for that Potter boy, which is, I'm told, considered to be very brave. But what did his bravery accomplish? He couldn't kill me. I'm more powerful than he could have ever dreamed to be. All he did was delay the inevitable, sate the minds of the pathetic fools who believed that I was finally defeated. They were wrong, weren't they, my pet?"
The sickly pale corners of his mouth turned up, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth. "Nothing to say?" he asked, smirking. "Well, then, I'll leave you with your thoughts. Perhaps when I come back you'll have a little visitor." He bent down again, reaching inside to grasp her by the scruff of her neck, raising her to eye-level. Too weak to do anything but hang from his painful grip, she stared back at him, into his crazed red-and-green eyes. "Wouldn't that be nice?"
With a laugh, he flung her against the bars of her cage and left the room in a whirlwind of darkness.
* * *
Severus knocked on Lupin's door once before entering, the steaming goblet of wolfsbane clutched in his hand. The werewolf sat on a dilapidated chair in front of his fireplace, simply staring into the flames. He seemed hardly to notice that Snape had come in. He cleared his throat. "Any news?"
Remus stirred, as if just brought out of a reverie, and glanced at Snape with a sad shake of his head. "None. And that is precisely what worries me. We have no idea why he took her... what he's... done to her... nothing. And now I just don't know what to do." He buried his face in his hands, his fingers tangling in his gray-peppered hair.
After a pause, Severus stepped closer and set the goblet on the armrest of his chair. "You can start by drinking this."
Remus stared up, his amber eyes boring into Snape's black ones. "Do you still hate me, Severus?"
He had not been expecting the question. "...excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"That is correct, Lupin, but I don't see why..."
Remus sighed. "Does everything have to have a reason? I just want to know... do you still hate me?"
Snape averted his eyes. "I can't hate you. We're supposed to be on the same side."
Slowly, he nodded. "I thought as much. I suppose no amount of time away from me can change that grudge, can it?" He took the wolfsbane and quickly drank it, grimacing only slightly. "Not bad. A definite change from what I've been attempting to grow used to. Thank you, Severus."
"You're welcome." He turned to go out, then paused. "I could go."
The words were so soft that Remus almost didn't hear. He turned, his brow furrowed. "What did you say?"
"I said, I could go."
"To..."
"Voldemort. He called me once... he'll do it again. And then I can go... find where they are."
"No."
Severus whirled. "It's our only chance, Lupin."
"If by that you mean our only chance to lose you as well as Minerva, then yes, you are correct."
"Lupin, you underestimate my abilities..." He had turned away from Voldemort's luring powers once, how dare he presume to say that he could not do it again...
Remus shrugged. "Perhaps I do. Or perhaps you underestimate *his* power. He came back from the dead, Severus. Do you understand that? He was dead. Dead!"
Snape stalked forward, his black hair falling across his eyes. "I understand perfectly, you fool. I saw him die. I saw them *both* die, dammit. Do you truly think that I would go back to the person... to the *thing* that killed Albus?"
"No, I don't. But we don't know what he is capable of. And until we do, I am not sending you into his clutches. I don't care whether you hate me or not, I do not wish for your imminent death."
Snape's mouth quirked slightly. "Thank God for small miracles." He sighed. "Very well, Lupin."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Severus?"
He paused at the door, taking with him the empty goblet and resigning himself to waiting. Always the endless, wretched waiting. "As usual."
END CHAPTER FIVE
Author's Note: Well, I'm liking this story more and more as I get back into writing stuff in the wizarding world. Writing Muggle Snape was a bit... odd... to say the least. Like several others had mentioned, I'd never thought of Snape as being a Muggle either. But I digress. On with the story! I like this chapter, dark though it is.
* * *
The tabby huddled in the corner of the dirty, dank cage, licking at an oozing cut on her lick. Her once-bright eyes, now dulled by pain, stared out from behind the bars with a vacant look. It had been a week that she had remained in the cage, a week that she had been tortured by all means possible. A week... Merlin, it had seemed like months. She didn't know how much longer she could go on, or would even want to go on.
A beady-eyed rat snuffled towards her, smelling the blood that clung to her fur like a deadly perfume. She tensed, watching the rodent carefully, kneading her ragged claws into the concrete.
It came brazenly closer. She subconsciously licked her lips, becoming acutely aware of the gnawing hunger that tore at her empty stomach. The rat padded a few steps closer, and she pounced, ignoring the screaming in her limbs. Her sharp, broken claws dug into sinewy flesh and she stepped down hard on the creature's neck, breaking it instantly.
Weakly, she drug her prey back into the corner, where she gingerly began to eat, forcing herself to swallow the chokingly raw meat.
Before she had gotten far, the door outside her small cage swung open. Her eyes widened, the hairs along her spine standing straight up. Him.
A hooded figure slunk into the room flanked by Death Eaters, his red eyes glowing from within the confines of the robe. "Having a little snack, my dear?" he sneered. "Looks delicious." He bent and slid a bony hand inside the cage to grab the dead rat. She hissed and swiped her paw at him, cutting four slashes across the back of his hand.
He hissed angrily, though his was more serpentine than feline, as thick black blood oozed from the injuries. With the hiss came a curse. "Crucio!"
The cat yeowled and spasmed in pain, clawing at the ground until her nails splintered further and bled. Blood ran from her nose and mouth where she had gnashed her teeth. The hooded figure chuckled at the display and tossed the dead rat into the far corner of the room. Once the spell ran its course, the creature collapsed weakly to the ground, her fur soaked in blood and her limbs splayed almost bonelessly out.
"Learned your lesson, my pet?" he said in a soft, dangerous voice. "What is it that those ridiculous Muggles say... 'don't bite the hand that feeds you.' You should really know better, Minerva. Your antics are nothing better than pathetic attempts at bravado. You should know as well as any other that bravery never got anyone anywhere, including that fool Dumbledore."
The cat, none other than Minerva McGonagall, stirred slightly at the words, a light flickering in her dull eyes.
"He died for that Potter boy, which is, I'm told, considered to be very brave. But what did his bravery accomplish? He couldn't kill me. I'm more powerful than he could have ever dreamed to be. All he did was delay the inevitable, sate the minds of the pathetic fools who believed that I was finally defeated. They were wrong, weren't they, my pet?"
The sickly pale corners of his mouth turned up, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth. "Nothing to say?" he asked, smirking. "Well, then, I'll leave you with your thoughts. Perhaps when I come back you'll have a little visitor." He bent down again, reaching inside to grasp her by the scruff of her neck, raising her to eye-level. Too weak to do anything but hang from his painful grip, she stared back at him, into his crazed red-and-green eyes. "Wouldn't that be nice?"
With a laugh, he flung her against the bars of her cage and left the room in a whirlwind of darkness.
* * *
Severus knocked on Lupin's door once before entering, the steaming goblet of wolfsbane clutched in his hand. The werewolf sat on a dilapidated chair in front of his fireplace, simply staring into the flames. He seemed hardly to notice that Snape had come in. He cleared his throat. "Any news?"
Remus stirred, as if just brought out of a reverie, and glanced at Snape with a sad shake of his head. "None. And that is precisely what worries me. We have no idea why he took her... what he's... done to her... nothing. And now I just don't know what to do." He buried his face in his hands, his fingers tangling in his gray-peppered hair.
After a pause, Severus stepped closer and set the goblet on the armrest of his chair. "You can start by drinking this."
Remus stared up, his amber eyes boring into Snape's black ones. "Do you still hate me, Severus?"
He had not been expecting the question. "...excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"That is correct, Lupin, but I don't see why..."
Remus sighed. "Does everything have to have a reason? I just want to know... do you still hate me?"
Snape averted his eyes. "I can't hate you. We're supposed to be on the same side."
Slowly, he nodded. "I thought as much. I suppose no amount of time away from me can change that grudge, can it?" He took the wolfsbane and quickly drank it, grimacing only slightly. "Not bad. A definite change from what I've been attempting to grow used to. Thank you, Severus."
"You're welcome." He turned to go out, then paused. "I could go."
The words were so soft that Remus almost didn't hear. He turned, his brow furrowed. "What did you say?"
"I said, I could go."
"To..."
"Voldemort. He called me once... he'll do it again. And then I can go... find where they are."
"No."
Severus whirled. "It's our only chance, Lupin."
"If by that you mean our only chance to lose you as well as Minerva, then yes, you are correct."
"Lupin, you underestimate my abilities..." He had turned away from Voldemort's luring powers once, how dare he presume to say that he could not do it again...
Remus shrugged. "Perhaps I do. Or perhaps you underestimate *his* power. He came back from the dead, Severus. Do you understand that? He was dead. Dead!"
Snape stalked forward, his black hair falling across his eyes. "I understand perfectly, you fool. I saw him die. I saw them *both* die, dammit. Do you truly think that I would go back to the person... to the *thing* that killed Albus?"
"No, I don't. But we don't know what he is capable of. And until we do, I am not sending you into his clutches. I don't care whether you hate me or not, I do not wish for your imminent death."
Snape's mouth quirked slightly. "Thank God for small miracles." He sighed. "Very well, Lupin."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Severus?"
He paused at the door, taking with him the empty goblet and resigning himself to waiting. Always the endless, wretched waiting. "As usual."
END CHAPTER FIVE