III.
Around three in the morning, Severus began to wonder if one could become immune to Pepperup Potions. Because he highly suspected that his body was beginning to reject the formula. He yawned and took another swallow. No effect. Just great.
He considered attempting another batch, but opted instead for an energy charm, even though he knew it would leave him more drained later than he was now. But he could afford to sleep later, not now.
After another hour of work, he was fairly sure that he had found the right mixture. There was only one way to be sure, of course. He Apparated to the next room, then back. Grasping the vial in his hand, he took two small sips of the trial potion. "Apparo," he said aloud, with no specific destination. If it worked, it would correctly trace where he had Apparated to and he would end up in the next room. If not, nothing would happen and he planned on jumping out the window.
He held his breath and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar tug in his stomach. Please Merlin, please... Slowly, he cracked open an eye and almost crumpled to the floor. Instead of the clutter of his office, he saw the spotless, empty room next door. "Thank you," he breathed, "Oh thank you..."
He Apparated back to his office on wobbly knees and collapsed into his chair, just wanting to *sleep.* Unfortunately, he had only just recently used another energy charm. His body was exhausted, but his mind was completely alert. He cursed aloud as he stumbled out of the room on stiff limbs.
His aimless wander brought him to the dungeons. He hesitated outside the door before pushing on it to enter. Strange as it was, he wanted to see this woman who he had doomed. He had never seen one of his victims, at least, not since his last raid in his first year of service. Since then he had worked exclusively on potions for Voldemort.
He brushed past the young guard, who started. "No one is allowed in there, sir. She is scheduled to be executed this afternoon."
He turned, glaring. "Do you dare to tell *me* where I am or am not allowed?" He was, after all, one of Voldemort's most distinguished- if you could call them that- servants and was allowed special privileges.
The guard shrunk back. "I'm sorry, sir, I did not recognize you. Forgive me."
"Do not interrupt me," he ordered, pretending that he wanted to use the woman for sexual reasons. He knew for a fact that she had already been used by several before Voldemort began to interrogate her.
"Sir... she is half dead..."
"Well then," he snarled, turning on his heel, "she will not put up much of a fight, will she?"
"N...no sir," he replied, but Severus was already halfway down the hall. He disappeared in a swish of black robes into the occupied room.
The woman lay, as the guard had said, half dead. Magic and physical scars littered her body where it was not shamelessly covered by a tattered blanket, and her once full lips were chapped and bleeding. He could still see traces of her beauty, despite the abuse she had recently suffered.
There was a sudden twinge in his gut that did not stem from anything sexual. This was... disgusting. Voldemort had tortured this woman horribly... and for what? To find a defenseless, innocent child? Should not their time be better spent furthering the Cause, rather than deriving sick pleasures?
The woman stirred and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the stranger before her. The fear in her eyes startled him. It was not a blind panic like he had been used to seeing on raids, but was instead a fear that came from knowledge of former suffering. Merlin, what had they done to her?
"I am not going to hurt you," he said softly, in a tone that surprised even himself with its gentleness.
"Please..." she whispered, "don't let them hurt her."
"Who?"
"...Cecil..."
The child. "Your daughter." She nodded slowly, painfully, as if words were too hard to form. He stared at her, the twisting in his stomach growing tighter. He wished it would go away. It was not a pleasant feeling.
"Don't hurt her." Begging, pleading... caring nothing for herself now, only her child. A mother's love... it was something he didn't think he could ever understand.
Still, he took a step forward. "I won't." The words spilled unbidden from his lips, leaving him wondering what made him thing that he could make such promises. Why would he want to even? Was he not soulless? He had been.
The Mark on his arm seemed to burn lightly in reproach of his thoughts. His right hand clutched at the stinking brand through his sleeve.
A soul... maybe his soul had merely been imprisoned, not lost. Maybe the Brand had buried it beneath the pain and darkness.
And maybe this pathetic woman had let in the light... had opened his eyes to what he had always known had gone on... how trite. He snarled at the thought. It was almost sickening. Who was he to become suddenly philosophical? He was a Death Eater, not some mere sinner to be redeemed. He didn't deserve redemption.
But perhaps... perhaps he could earn it.
His dark gaze fell on the woman. "You must trust me."
She stared blankly at him. Trust him... one of them? "Why should I?"
"I..." he realized then that there were no reasons for her trust. None at all. He was a sick, twisted, depraved shell of a man. What reasons could he give? "I do not know."
The woman studied him, her green eyes taking his dark robes, sallow skin, sullen eyes... everything in him reflecting what she had come to fear and loathe. And yet, there was something else. There was a glimmer of hope, some lingering sense of dignity that clung desperately to his lean, too thin frame, like hope in the eyes of a drowning man. There was still a part of him that had not been lost completely.
That tiny part was where her last hope lay. "I trust you."
Those three words were some of the most unexpected in his life. He returned her stare, wondering why any sensible person would put their trust in him. He wanted to swallow the words that lay on the tip of his tongue, to turn and walk coldly back to his office and forget that he had ever laid eyes on the pathetic creature.
But, for some reason, he couldn't.
"Then you must tell me where the child is. There is still time, though very little."
The woman reached for her neck and unclasped the chain she wore from around her neck and held it out to him. "I want you to give this to Cecil..." A locket swung lazily from the chain and he reached for it. As his fist closed on it, her other hand grasped his with a strength he hadn't though she possessed. "Swear to me... on your very soul, that no harm will come to my daughter."
"I have no soul, woman," he growled.
"Yes, you do. We all do... no matter how black they have become. Now swear it."
"I will try my best."
Her grip tightened. "Your best is not good enough for her. Swear."
Still, he hesitated. He was about to throw his life away here. "Give me one reason why I should risk my life for hers."
"Because," her voice trembled. "Because she hasn't even had a chance to sin.... and her purity can save what is left of what you once were."
"And what makes you believe that I was ever sinless?" Her words affected him deeply, but he didn't let it show. He never did.
"Were we not all children, innocent as babes?"
He exhaled slowly, letting go with that breath all ties to Voldemort. "I swear it."
She released his hand, her arm falling to her side in exhaustion from her effort. "Then leave me." Before she could regret it, she revealed her cousin's address, then turned her face away from him.
He turned without further hesitation, tucking the chain deep into one of his pockets. At the door he paused. "What is your name?"
"Why must you know?"
"So that the child will know her mother's name."
She almost smiled. He had passed the test. By asking for her name, he had proven his determination to keep his promise. "Felicity. My name is Felicity. What... what is yours?" She had not known any of their names, only horrid faces and leers and those torturing green eyes of the Dark Lord.
"Severus." He quickly left the room, his heart suddenly hammering with the thought of what he was about to do. He would die if he were caught, and not a painless death either.
But there was no turning back now.
* * *
He went through his scarce belongings as quickly as he could, gathering several scrolls of notes, magically shrinking them, and stuffing them in his pocket before sliding his wand up the sleeve of his robe.
After scribbling a short list of instructions for use of the potion, he called for a messenger. He sat back in his desk, outwardly calmly studying a roll of parchment. Inwardly, he was falling to pieces.
The door opened and yet another new Death Eater stepped in. "You called?"
He waved towards the vial and instructions. "Take that to Lord Voldemort." Waiting only until the door close, he pulled out his wand and Apparated.
* * *
A twisted leer spread over Voldemort's face as he read the instructions that Severus had sent. Now they would have the child and his revenge would be complete. There was only one small thing that bothered him- Snape had not brought the potion himself, as he usually did. Snape knew that Voldemort chose to reward him in various ways for his successes. But, the man *had* been quite busy as of late.
"Fetch Severus to the dungeons," he said on the way out the door. Even Severus deserved to see the fruits of his labor. "Is she still alive?" he asked the dungeon guard with a sneer.
"She was when Master Snape paid her a visit just before."
"Severus...?" He had been to see the woman? The Potions Master usually chose not to make use of the tortured victims. He had never been as twisted as the other Death Eaters were. It was a shame that he had lived such a dull life.
He swept toward the cell where Felicity was contained. He could not wait to kill her only child in front of her, right before ending her own miserable life. It would be a pleasure. She smiled up at him as he entered, something she had never done, and for good reason. "You're too late... she is safe now," she breathed, closing her eyes.
At that moment, the messenger returned. "Master Snape is gone," he gasped, "Nowhere on the premises!"
It took only seconds for the information to register. Severus had betrayed him. His face flushed and he let loose a horrible scream, a sound that echoed off the walls. He sprung at Felicity, grabbing and shaking her violently. "Where? WHERE?!"
But she was already dead, the hauntingly peaceful smile frozen forever on her face.
He let her body crumple to the hard ground and whirled to the Death Eaters huddled at the door. "Find him! Now!!" He continued screaming at them long after they had Apparated with the woman's corpse to guide them, per Snape's instructions. Voldemort ravaged the room, throwing the cot and tearing at the walls with his fingernails. "Traitor! Kill him! KILL HIM!"
But he was indeed too late. Severus and the child were gone.
END CHAPTER TWO
Author's Note: Yes, Severus has left the Death Eaters. Drama at it's best... or, something like that. Voldemort's insane... but we all knew that. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing *wink wink nudge nudge*. I am, as Kate says, a review hog. I can't help it- they do wonders for my self esteem.
I'm pathetic.
Around three in the morning, Severus began to wonder if one could become immune to Pepperup Potions. Because he highly suspected that his body was beginning to reject the formula. He yawned and took another swallow. No effect. Just great.
He considered attempting another batch, but opted instead for an energy charm, even though he knew it would leave him more drained later than he was now. But he could afford to sleep later, not now.
After another hour of work, he was fairly sure that he had found the right mixture. There was only one way to be sure, of course. He Apparated to the next room, then back. Grasping the vial in his hand, he took two small sips of the trial potion. "Apparo," he said aloud, with no specific destination. If it worked, it would correctly trace where he had Apparated to and he would end up in the next room. If not, nothing would happen and he planned on jumping out the window.
He held his breath and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar tug in his stomach. Please Merlin, please... Slowly, he cracked open an eye and almost crumpled to the floor. Instead of the clutter of his office, he saw the spotless, empty room next door. "Thank you," he breathed, "Oh thank you..."
He Apparated back to his office on wobbly knees and collapsed into his chair, just wanting to *sleep.* Unfortunately, he had only just recently used another energy charm. His body was exhausted, but his mind was completely alert. He cursed aloud as he stumbled out of the room on stiff limbs.
His aimless wander brought him to the dungeons. He hesitated outside the door before pushing on it to enter. Strange as it was, he wanted to see this woman who he had doomed. He had never seen one of his victims, at least, not since his last raid in his first year of service. Since then he had worked exclusively on potions for Voldemort.
He brushed past the young guard, who started. "No one is allowed in there, sir. She is scheduled to be executed this afternoon."
He turned, glaring. "Do you dare to tell *me* where I am or am not allowed?" He was, after all, one of Voldemort's most distinguished- if you could call them that- servants and was allowed special privileges.
The guard shrunk back. "I'm sorry, sir, I did not recognize you. Forgive me."
"Do not interrupt me," he ordered, pretending that he wanted to use the woman for sexual reasons. He knew for a fact that she had already been used by several before Voldemort began to interrogate her.
"Sir... she is half dead..."
"Well then," he snarled, turning on his heel, "she will not put up much of a fight, will she?"
"N...no sir," he replied, but Severus was already halfway down the hall. He disappeared in a swish of black robes into the occupied room.
The woman lay, as the guard had said, half dead. Magic and physical scars littered her body where it was not shamelessly covered by a tattered blanket, and her once full lips were chapped and bleeding. He could still see traces of her beauty, despite the abuse she had recently suffered.
There was a sudden twinge in his gut that did not stem from anything sexual. This was... disgusting. Voldemort had tortured this woman horribly... and for what? To find a defenseless, innocent child? Should not their time be better spent furthering the Cause, rather than deriving sick pleasures?
The woman stirred and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the stranger before her. The fear in her eyes startled him. It was not a blind panic like he had been used to seeing on raids, but was instead a fear that came from knowledge of former suffering. Merlin, what had they done to her?
"I am not going to hurt you," he said softly, in a tone that surprised even himself with its gentleness.
"Please..." she whispered, "don't let them hurt her."
"Who?"
"...Cecil..."
The child. "Your daughter." She nodded slowly, painfully, as if words were too hard to form. He stared at her, the twisting in his stomach growing tighter. He wished it would go away. It was not a pleasant feeling.
"Don't hurt her." Begging, pleading... caring nothing for herself now, only her child. A mother's love... it was something he didn't think he could ever understand.
Still, he took a step forward. "I won't." The words spilled unbidden from his lips, leaving him wondering what made him thing that he could make such promises. Why would he want to even? Was he not soulless? He had been.
The Mark on his arm seemed to burn lightly in reproach of his thoughts. His right hand clutched at the stinking brand through his sleeve.
A soul... maybe his soul had merely been imprisoned, not lost. Maybe the Brand had buried it beneath the pain and darkness.
And maybe this pathetic woman had let in the light... had opened his eyes to what he had always known had gone on... how trite. He snarled at the thought. It was almost sickening. Who was he to become suddenly philosophical? He was a Death Eater, not some mere sinner to be redeemed. He didn't deserve redemption.
But perhaps... perhaps he could earn it.
His dark gaze fell on the woman. "You must trust me."
She stared blankly at him. Trust him... one of them? "Why should I?"
"I..." he realized then that there were no reasons for her trust. None at all. He was a sick, twisted, depraved shell of a man. What reasons could he give? "I do not know."
The woman studied him, her green eyes taking his dark robes, sallow skin, sullen eyes... everything in him reflecting what she had come to fear and loathe. And yet, there was something else. There was a glimmer of hope, some lingering sense of dignity that clung desperately to his lean, too thin frame, like hope in the eyes of a drowning man. There was still a part of him that had not been lost completely.
That tiny part was where her last hope lay. "I trust you."
Those three words were some of the most unexpected in his life. He returned her stare, wondering why any sensible person would put their trust in him. He wanted to swallow the words that lay on the tip of his tongue, to turn and walk coldly back to his office and forget that he had ever laid eyes on the pathetic creature.
But, for some reason, he couldn't.
"Then you must tell me where the child is. There is still time, though very little."
The woman reached for her neck and unclasped the chain she wore from around her neck and held it out to him. "I want you to give this to Cecil..." A locket swung lazily from the chain and he reached for it. As his fist closed on it, her other hand grasped his with a strength he hadn't though she possessed. "Swear to me... on your very soul, that no harm will come to my daughter."
"I have no soul, woman," he growled.
"Yes, you do. We all do... no matter how black they have become. Now swear it."
"I will try my best."
Her grip tightened. "Your best is not good enough for her. Swear."
Still, he hesitated. He was about to throw his life away here. "Give me one reason why I should risk my life for hers."
"Because," her voice trembled. "Because she hasn't even had a chance to sin.... and her purity can save what is left of what you once were."
"And what makes you believe that I was ever sinless?" Her words affected him deeply, but he didn't let it show. He never did.
"Were we not all children, innocent as babes?"
He exhaled slowly, letting go with that breath all ties to Voldemort. "I swear it."
She released his hand, her arm falling to her side in exhaustion from her effort. "Then leave me." Before she could regret it, she revealed her cousin's address, then turned her face away from him.
He turned without further hesitation, tucking the chain deep into one of his pockets. At the door he paused. "What is your name?"
"Why must you know?"
"So that the child will know her mother's name."
She almost smiled. He had passed the test. By asking for her name, he had proven his determination to keep his promise. "Felicity. My name is Felicity. What... what is yours?" She had not known any of their names, only horrid faces and leers and those torturing green eyes of the Dark Lord.
"Severus." He quickly left the room, his heart suddenly hammering with the thought of what he was about to do. He would die if he were caught, and not a painless death either.
But there was no turning back now.
* * *
He went through his scarce belongings as quickly as he could, gathering several scrolls of notes, magically shrinking them, and stuffing them in his pocket before sliding his wand up the sleeve of his robe.
After scribbling a short list of instructions for use of the potion, he called for a messenger. He sat back in his desk, outwardly calmly studying a roll of parchment. Inwardly, he was falling to pieces.
The door opened and yet another new Death Eater stepped in. "You called?"
He waved towards the vial and instructions. "Take that to Lord Voldemort." Waiting only until the door close, he pulled out his wand and Apparated.
* * *
A twisted leer spread over Voldemort's face as he read the instructions that Severus had sent. Now they would have the child and his revenge would be complete. There was only one small thing that bothered him- Snape had not brought the potion himself, as he usually did. Snape knew that Voldemort chose to reward him in various ways for his successes. But, the man *had* been quite busy as of late.
"Fetch Severus to the dungeons," he said on the way out the door. Even Severus deserved to see the fruits of his labor. "Is she still alive?" he asked the dungeon guard with a sneer.
"She was when Master Snape paid her a visit just before."
"Severus...?" He had been to see the woman? The Potions Master usually chose not to make use of the tortured victims. He had never been as twisted as the other Death Eaters were. It was a shame that he had lived such a dull life.
He swept toward the cell where Felicity was contained. He could not wait to kill her only child in front of her, right before ending her own miserable life. It would be a pleasure. She smiled up at him as he entered, something she had never done, and for good reason. "You're too late... she is safe now," she breathed, closing her eyes.
At that moment, the messenger returned. "Master Snape is gone," he gasped, "Nowhere on the premises!"
It took only seconds for the information to register. Severus had betrayed him. His face flushed and he let loose a horrible scream, a sound that echoed off the walls. He sprung at Felicity, grabbing and shaking her violently. "Where? WHERE?!"
But she was already dead, the hauntingly peaceful smile frozen forever on her face.
He let her body crumple to the hard ground and whirled to the Death Eaters huddled at the door. "Find him! Now!!" He continued screaming at them long after they had Apparated with the woman's corpse to guide them, per Snape's instructions. Voldemort ravaged the room, throwing the cot and tearing at the walls with his fingernails. "Traitor! Kill him! KILL HIM!"
But he was indeed too late. Severus and the child were gone.
END CHAPTER TWO
Author's Note: Yes, Severus has left the Death Eaters. Drama at it's best... or, something like that. Voldemort's insane... but we all knew that. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing *wink wink nudge nudge*. I am, as Kate says, a review hog. I can't help it- they do wonders for my self esteem.
I'm pathetic.