Chapter 8 – The Horror in the Cellar
Within temporal seconds, Severus Snape, Sibelius Hammer, and Aloysius Bede found themselves tumbled onto an earthen floor in a darkened room. It took them a few moments to regain their composure and to blink in the darkness until the outlines of nearby shapes became visible.
"What in Seven Hells is this?" Sib panted.
"That pretty rock we were so interested in was obviously a portkey. Where are we, anyway?" Aloysius asked.
Severus looked around at the resolving images and felt a cold thud of dread in his heart. "I know this place," he whispered. "It's the dungeon in Malfoy Manor!"
With that, Sib gasped and grabbed the boy by the sleeve of his red sweater. "HIDE, Sev! Hide NOW!" Almost as if on cue, multiple footsteps echoed as people moved down the stone stairs towards them, just behind the flame of an approaching torch.
Sev looked around frantically. He knew the room fairly well since he had spent several weeks here, brewing potions and teaching the other Slytherin students how to do so. The room looked different then. There was really no place to hide –
Except –
"Sev!" Aloysius hissed. "Try that sarcophagus over there!" He pointed to what looked like a hinged mummy casing.
It's a Black Maria, Sev thought. No, an Iron Maiden, you stupid git! It's an implement of torture –
Sev glanced around frantically. Implements of torture were in fact the newest additions to a room that ordinarily held just laboratory equipment. The rack. The bastinado. The Catherine's wheel.
Without another word, Sev bounded across the room and got inside the Iron Maiden. Without hesitation,he began to close it and soon realized that there were large and sharp iron spikes to his back and front. He did his best to wriggle around the spikes and fit himself inside, and closed the lid just enough to avoid detection.
Sev could not see who was now entering the room, but recognized Avaris Malfoy's voice. He heard several more, one of whom was a woman's voice.
Casting a binding spell on Sib and Aloysius, the lord of the manor said, "And here we are. Two helpless Ministry aurors, never to see the light of day again! They are at your disposal, Widow Dufresne."
Sev heard a woman' voice chuckling. "Welcome, gentlemen. We're going to play a game. The game is called "Spill the Secrets". I will ask you questions after you've enjoyed this lovely goblet of Veritaserum, brewed just this summer by a young man you know quite well. Apparently, he has not accompanied you here today."
Severus now heard the voice of a second man. He did not recognize it. "What a shame that is! He's been wasting all his time, playing games and spending his holidays with Gryffindors like his dunderheaded headmaster."
The woman's voice was cold. "Spare me your insight, Macnair. And now to continue, my two fine gentlemen! If you do not answer me immediately and in full, I shall use the little toys you see around you. Come, Mordecai."
Macnair approached. Severus couldn't see, but he certainly could hear. He heard a low moan from Sibelius, then an exhalation and a cry of rage. It sounded like Sib had spat the potion back at the Dark wizard.
"Naughty boy," chided the Widow Dufresne. "Put him on the rack if you would, dear Mordecai." She chuckled, and then walked around the trapped aurors.
She sounded very close.
Very close indeed.
Before she spoke again, she leaned against the Iron Maiden just a bit – long enough and hard enough for the iron spikes to partly close upon Severus.
He wriggled desperately, trying to get out of their way. He felt a spike scrape the side of his head. He also felt two more spikes puncture his legs. He willed his voice not to cry out.
But they did not drive through. His body – from his neck to right above his knees – was protected by his new red sweater. Eight spikes pushed in further and eight spikes crumpled with an odd grinding sound. They held, and the spikes came no closer. Fortunately, Lady Dufresne had been too busy giving orders to hear.
"Shall I give it a crank, ma'am?" Macnair said. Severus – biting his lip and desperately trying to keep quiet – felt blood trickle down his lower legs and the side of his head.
"Yes indeed," the widow laughed. "He's such a naughty boy, and I really think he needs a good talking-to before I shove this potion down his throat with a stick."
Severus heard his friend's anguished shriek before he threw up and passed out.
-----------
Severus woke to blackness and the smell of his own vomit.
And blood.
He sensed that the coppery smell was greater than the trickles he had generated himself.
What about Sib and Aloysius?
With a groan, Severus began to push the lid open, his muscles and joints protesting mightily.
And then he saw two eyes, as large as eggs and as green as the grapes he picked and ate in the summertime. Sev screamed, forgetting that he was in mortal peril himself.
"It's all righty, they'se gone!" the House Elf whispered.
"Who – who are you?" Severus returned, trying to become accustomed to the darkness surrounding them both.
"I am Dobby," the creature said gravely. "And whose you, pray tell?" The elf snapped his fingers together. His index fingertip held a shimmering blue flame that generated light but not heat. "Oh my goodnesses! You is Young Master's friend Silvery Snake! You remember Dobby, then!"
Sev exhaled loudly. "Yes. It's me -- Silvery – Snake." House Elves generally had trouble with diction and Dobby was no exception.
"Want me to go wake Young Master?"
"NO!" Sev hissed. "Don't do that, Dobby!"
"Want me to go wake Young Miss?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Severus gasped.
Dobby's odd features distorted themselves into a wry little smile. "Dobby and Teeny both know Little Miss try to do naughty things to Silvery Snake. But hims not want bad girl!" He chuckled knowingly.
Severus wanted to strangle him on the spot. "Dobby. Stop talking nonsense. What about my friends? Are they still here? I can't see them!"
Dobby's face crumpled into lines of grief. "Oh poor boy. Poor boy Silvery Snake don't know about aurors Master caught."
Sev was already crying. "Oh, please don't tell me that they're – "
Dobby saw Severus' tears. "Oh, poor Silvery Snake. Hims all alone now. Aurors – dead and taken away. Dead and taken away. Dobby had to help. Very sad."
The House Elf began to wail loudly. Sev shot out of the Iron Maiden and clapped his hand over Dobby's mouth. It felt like his heart was breaking. He knew it would be fatal to give in to his grief here. "Hush now," Sev breathed through his tears. "Dobby, can you get me out of here without breaking the wards?"
Happy to be wanted and useful, the House Elf nodded vigorously. Sev unclasped the little creature's face. "Young Master and Young Miss sleeping now. Master and Lady out at big party. Dobby can help Silvery Snake leave!"
Sev moaned as the puncture wounds on his lower legs reopened.
"Young school friend hurt," Dobby clucked, transfiguring a nearby piece of parchment into a bandage. Without hesitation, he halved it, and then wound the pieces around Sev's thin legs. "There. They is better. Just for now. Other friends must help Silvery Snake later on. Must walk with Dobby now!"
Holding onto Dobby's spidery little hand, Severus picked his way around some obstacles in his path – it was too dark to see exactly what they were, and for that Severus was grateful – and tiptoed up the steps until they reached the kitchens. Fortunately, it was very nearly as dark here as it had been in the dungeon.
Darkness and silence were in Severus' favor.
"Dobby," Sev whispered, "I'm going to need a broom. Is there one you could give me?"
The boy was surprised to see fear, anger, and relief wash across the House Elf's face. "Oh yessum," Dobby pronounced. "I can give young Silvery Snake the bad broom."
Sev's breath caught in his throat. "And – why is it called a bad broom, Dobby?"
"Oh, Young Miss hit Dobby and Teeny and Twixum with it! It's a bad old broom! Dobby stole and hid bad old broom from Young Miss! I will fetch it for you!"
With a pop, Dobby disapparated and reappeared almost as quickly, holding what appeared to be a completely serviceable broom. He presented it to the shivering dark-haired boy with a half bow.
"Now, commins this way," Dobby whispered, pointing toward another door. "Dobby help Young Silvery. Wards not break if Dobby does for him. Come now!"
--------------
Within a very few minutes, Severus found himself standing in the wet grass of the Manor's front lawn. The stars blazed overhead in the clear sky. His head began to pulse at the location of his injury, and he groaned and placed his hand over it.
Seeing this, Dobby threw a charm over the boy and Sev's headache soon subsided.
"How can I thank you for your help, Dobby?"
The House Elf shook his head. "No way. Poor, poor Dobby is trapped here. No escape for poor Dobby. I is glad to help Young Silvery. Go now! Godspeed!"
Dobby disapparated with a pop, leaving Severus alone with his broom. Within seconds, he had run, kicked off, and flew toward the Moon's shining white disk.
-------------
"What the deuce is this, then?" howled Argus Filch, responding to the pounding at the front door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Please, Mr. Filch! It's Severus Snape! Please let me in!"
With an exhalation of disgust, the large barred door swung open. In front of him stood the thin youth, blood caked on the side of his head and two makeshift bandages stained with more of it around his legs. Gasping, Filch reached out and pulled the boy inside, slamming the door shut. It locked itself immediately.
"I need to see the Headmaster, please, Mr. Filch," Severus begged, beginning to cry. "It's urgent. Someone has been killed."
"Wish I could levitate you, boy," the caretaker said. "Hold onto my arm and I'll get you there right proper."
"Hello, Mrs. Norris," Sev whispered, looking down at the Maine Coon cat that was careful not to rub against his wounds.
Within minutes Severus was on the Gryphon staircase, heading up to the Headmaster's office. Both Dumbledore and Asphora LaChance ran to him.
"Oh, Sev, where have you been --?" The healer cried out when she saw his wounds. Albus grabbed the boy and held him close.
"Dead, they're dead, they're dead!" Severus shrieked. "Tortured and given Veritaserum at Malfoy Manor – oh heavenly gods, they're both dead!"
Quickly, Dumbledore cast a silencing spell around the boy and the two adults. Both of them soon joined the sixteen-year-old in his grief-filled weeping.
-------------
After a short while – after the initial shock of Severus' words had passed -- Albus picked up the boy and began to carry him towards the the stairway. "We must get you to the Hospital Wing, child," he intoned. "Please say no more about this matter to anyone."
"What?" Sev gasped.
"Don't say anything about the deaths or your captivity, honey," Asphora finished. "We will do what is necessary, believe me."
"I guess it really doesn't matter anyway. I don't suppose that my word would count much against Lord Malfoy's," Severus sighed, resting his head on the Headmaster's shoulder and weaving his fingers gently through his beard. "Why would anybody believe a suicidal kid who just spent the last few months in a mental hospital?" He began to cry again. "I can't believe they're gone! And they helped me so much!"
"Don't worry, son," Albus told him. "As Healer LaChance has said, we will take care of the matter. Later – when you're feeling better – we will talk more about it. For right now, all we need to concentrate on is dressing those wounds. Where did they come from?"
"I hid in an Iron Maiden," Severus answered through his tears. "The woman there – a Widow Dufresne – "
Both adults exchanged solemn glances.
"What about her, sweetheart?"
"Well, she closed it partway, not knowing I was in there. Mrs. Potter's sweater saved my life! Even the iron spikes couldn't puncture through it."
"A good thing it was oversized, honey," Asphora LaChance whispered.
"You had no part in this tragedy, Severus. I am so grateful you survived, my precious Dark child!"
Severus began to cry even harder. "But, Headmaster," the Slytherin boy sobbed. "I was the one who brewed that Veritaserum! I'm as guilty as the rest of them!"
"I understand that, Severus. You're still mine. You always will be, no matter what."
Nearly faint with relief, Sev closed his eyes.
The three made their way down the corridor as torches snapped into full blaze before them.
Within temporal seconds, Severus Snape, Sibelius Hammer, and Aloysius Bede found themselves tumbled onto an earthen floor in a darkened room. It took them a few moments to regain their composure and to blink in the darkness until the outlines of nearby shapes became visible.
"What in Seven Hells is this?" Sib panted.
"That pretty rock we were so interested in was obviously a portkey. Where are we, anyway?" Aloysius asked.
Severus looked around at the resolving images and felt a cold thud of dread in his heart. "I know this place," he whispered. "It's the dungeon in Malfoy Manor!"
With that, Sib gasped and grabbed the boy by the sleeve of his red sweater. "HIDE, Sev! Hide NOW!" Almost as if on cue, multiple footsteps echoed as people moved down the stone stairs towards them, just behind the flame of an approaching torch.
Sev looked around frantically. He knew the room fairly well since he had spent several weeks here, brewing potions and teaching the other Slytherin students how to do so. The room looked different then. There was really no place to hide –
Except –
"Sev!" Aloysius hissed. "Try that sarcophagus over there!" He pointed to what looked like a hinged mummy casing.
It's a Black Maria, Sev thought. No, an Iron Maiden, you stupid git! It's an implement of torture –
Sev glanced around frantically. Implements of torture were in fact the newest additions to a room that ordinarily held just laboratory equipment. The rack. The bastinado. The Catherine's wheel.
Without another word, Sev bounded across the room and got inside the Iron Maiden. Without hesitation,he began to close it and soon realized that there were large and sharp iron spikes to his back and front. He did his best to wriggle around the spikes and fit himself inside, and closed the lid just enough to avoid detection.
Sev could not see who was now entering the room, but recognized Avaris Malfoy's voice. He heard several more, one of whom was a woman's voice.
Casting a binding spell on Sib and Aloysius, the lord of the manor said, "And here we are. Two helpless Ministry aurors, never to see the light of day again! They are at your disposal, Widow Dufresne."
Sev heard a woman' voice chuckling. "Welcome, gentlemen. We're going to play a game. The game is called "Spill the Secrets". I will ask you questions after you've enjoyed this lovely goblet of Veritaserum, brewed just this summer by a young man you know quite well. Apparently, he has not accompanied you here today."
Severus now heard the voice of a second man. He did not recognize it. "What a shame that is! He's been wasting all his time, playing games and spending his holidays with Gryffindors like his dunderheaded headmaster."
The woman's voice was cold. "Spare me your insight, Macnair. And now to continue, my two fine gentlemen! If you do not answer me immediately and in full, I shall use the little toys you see around you. Come, Mordecai."
Macnair approached. Severus couldn't see, but he certainly could hear. He heard a low moan from Sibelius, then an exhalation and a cry of rage. It sounded like Sib had spat the potion back at the Dark wizard.
"Naughty boy," chided the Widow Dufresne. "Put him on the rack if you would, dear Mordecai." She chuckled, and then walked around the trapped aurors.
She sounded very close.
Very close indeed.
Before she spoke again, she leaned against the Iron Maiden just a bit – long enough and hard enough for the iron spikes to partly close upon Severus.
He wriggled desperately, trying to get out of their way. He felt a spike scrape the side of his head. He also felt two more spikes puncture his legs. He willed his voice not to cry out.
But they did not drive through. His body – from his neck to right above his knees – was protected by his new red sweater. Eight spikes pushed in further and eight spikes crumpled with an odd grinding sound. They held, and the spikes came no closer. Fortunately, Lady Dufresne had been too busy giving orders to hear.
"Shall I give it a crank, ma'am?" Macnair said. Severus – biting his lip and desperately trying to keep quiet – felt blood trickle down his lower legs and the side of his head.
"Yes indeed," the widow laughed. "He's such a naughty boy, and I really think he needs a good talking-to before I shove this potion down his throat with a stick."
Severus heard his friend's anguished shriek before he threw up and passed out.
-----------
Severus woke to blackness and the smell of his own vomit.
And blood.
He sensed that the coppery smell was greater than the trickles he had generated himself.
What about Sib and Aloysius?
With a groan, Severus began to push the lid open, his muscles and joints protesting mightily.
And then he saw two eyes, as large as eggs and as green as the grapes he picked and ate in the summertime. Sev screamed, forgetting that he was in mortal peril himself.
"It's all righty, they'se gone!" the House Elf whispered.
"Who – who are you?" Severus returned, trying to become accustomed to the darkness surrounding them both.
"I am Dobby," the creature said gravely. "And whose you, pray tell?" The elf snapped his fingers together. His index fingertip held a shimmering blue flame that generated light but not heat. "Oh my goodnesses! You is Young Master's friend Silvery Snake! You remember Dobby, then!"
Sev exhaled loudly. "Yes. It's me -- Silvery – Snake." House Elves generally had trouble with diction and Dobby was no exception.
"Want me to go wake Young Master?"
"NO!" Sev hissed. "Don't do that, Dobby!"
"Want me to go wake Young Miss?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Severus gasped.
Dobby's odd features distorted themselves into a wry little smile. "Dobby and Teeny both know Little Miss try to do naughty things to Silvery Snake. But hims not want bad girl!" He chuckled knowingly.
Severus wanted to strangle him on the spot. "Dobby. Stop talking nonsense. What about my friends? Are they still here? I can't see them!"
Dobby's face crumpled into lines of grief. "Oh poor boy. Poor boy Silvery Snake don't know about aurors Master caught."
Sev was already crying. "Oh, please don't tell me that they're – "
Dobby saw Severus' tears. "Oh, poor Silvery Snake. Hims all alone now. Aurors – dead and taken away. Dead and taken away. Dobby had to help. Very sad."
The House Elf began to wail loudly. Sev shot out of the Iron Maiden and clapped his hand over Dobby's mouth. It felt like his heart was breaking. He knew it would be fatal to give in to his grief here. "Hush now," Sev breathed through his tears. "Dobby, can you get me out of here without breaking the wards?"
Happy to be wanted and useful, the House Elf nodded vigorously. Sev unclasped the little creature's face. "Young Master and Young Miss sleeping now. Master and Lady out at big party. Dobby can help Silvery Snake leave!"
Sev moaned as the puncture wounds on his lower legs reopened.
"Young school friend hurt," Dobby clucked, transfiguring a nearby piece of parchment into a bandage. Without hesitation, he halved it, and then wound the pieces around Sev's thin legs. "There. They is better. Just for now. Other friends must help Silvery Snake later on. Must walk with Dobby now!"
Holding onto Dobby's spidery little hand, Severus picked his way around some obstacles in his path – it was too dark to see exactly what they were, and for that Severus was grateful – and tiptoed up the steps until they reached the kitchens. Fortunately, it was very nearly as dark here as it had been in the dungeon.
Darkness and silence were in Severus' favor.
"Dobby," Sev whispered, "I'm going to need a broom. Is there one you could give me?"
The boy was surprised to see fear, anger, and relief wash across the House Elf's face. "Oh yessum," Dobby pronounced. "I can give young Silvery Snake the bad broom."
Sev's breath caught in his throat. "And – why is it called a bad broom, Dobby?"
"Oh, Young Miss hit Dobby and Teeny and Twixum with it! It's a bad old broom! Dobby stole and hid bad old broom from Young Miss! I will fetch it for you!"
With a pop, Dobby disapparated and reappeared almost as quickly, holding what appeared to be a completely serviceable broom. He presented it to the shivering dark-haired boy with a half bow.
"Now, commins this way," Dobby whispered, pointing toward another door. "Dobby help Young Silvery. Wards not break if Dobby does for him. Come now!"
--------------
Within a very few minutes, Severus found himself standing in the wet grass of the Manor's front lawn. The stars blazed overhead in the clear sky. His head began to pulse at the location of his injury, and he groaned and placed his hand over it.
Seeing this, Dobby threw a charm over the boy and Sev's headache soon subsided.
"How can I thank you for your help, Dobby?"
The House Elf shook his head. "No way. Poor, poor Dobby is trapped here. No escape for poor Dobby. I is glad to help Young Silvery. Go now! Godspeed!"
Dobby disapparated with a pop, leaving Severus alone with his broom. Within seconds, he had run, kicked off, and flew toward the Moon's shining white disk.
-------------
"What the deuce is this, then?" howled Argus Filch, responding to the pounding at the front door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Please, Mr. Filch! It's Severus Snape! Please let me in!"
With an exhalation of disgust, the large barred door swung open. In front of him stood the thin youth, blood caked on the side of his head and two makeshift bandages stained with more of it around his legs. Gasping, Filch reached out and pulled the boy inside, slamming the door shut. It locked itself immediately.
"I need to see the Headmaster, please, Mr. Filch," Severus begged, beginning to cry. "It's urgent. Someone has been killed."
"Wish I could levitate you, boy," the caretaker said. "Hold onto my arm and I'll get you there right proper."
"Hello, Mrs. Norris," Sev whispered, looking down at the Maine Coon cat that was careful not to rub against his wounds.
Within minutes Severus was on the Gryphon staircase, heading up to the Headmaster's office. Both Dumbledore and Asphora LaChance ran to him.
"Oh, Sev, where have you been --?" The healer cried out when she saw his wounds. Albus grabbed the boy and held him close.
"Dead, they're dead, they're dead!" Severus shrieked. "Tortured and given Veritaserum at Malfoy Manor – oh heavenly gods, they're both dead!"
Quickly, Dumbledore cast a silencing spell around the boy and the two adults. Both of them soon joined the sixteen-year-old in his grief-filled weeping.
-------------
After a short while – after the initial shock of Severus' words had passed -- Albus picked up the boy and began to carry him towards the the stairway. "We must get you to the Hospital Wing, child," he intoned. "Please say no more about this matter to anyone."
"What?" Sev gasped.
"Don't say anything about the deaths or your captivity, honey," Asphora finished. "We will do what is necessary, believe me."
"I guess it really doesn't matter anyway. I don't suppose that my word would count much against Lord Malfoy's," Severus sighed, resting his head on the Headmaster's shoulder and weaving his fingers gently through his beard. "Why would anybody believe a suicidal kid who just spent the last few months in a mental hospital?" He began to cry again. "I can't believe they're gone! And they helped me so much!"
"Don't worry, son," Albus told him. "As Healer LaChance has said, we will take care of the matter. Later – when you're feeling better – we will talk more about it. For right now, all we need to concentrate on is dressing those wounds. Where did they come from?"
"I hid in an Iron Maiden," Severus answered through his tears. "The woman there – a Widow Dufresne – "
Both adults exchanged solemn glances.
"What about her, sweetheart?"
"Well, she closed it partway, not knowing I was in there. Mrs. Potter's sweater saved my life! Even the iron spikes couldn't puncture through it."
"A good thing it was oversized, honey," Asphora LaChance whispered.
"You had no part in this tragedy, Severus. I am so grateful you survived, my precious Dark child!"
Severus began to cry even harder. "But, Headmaster," the Slytherin boy sobbed. "I was the one who brewed that Veritaserum! I'm as guilty as the rest of them!"
"I understand that, Severus. You're still mine. You always will be, no matter what."
Nearly faint with relief, Sev closed his eyes.
The three made their way down the corridor as torches snapped into full blaze before them.