"Hey, Severus, there's some girl outside who says she really needs to talk to you." Tonks stretched as she walked into the kitchen, as though such an announcement was an everyday occurrence at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. As she lifted her hands above her head, the hem of her shirt came up, revealing a tiny ring in her belly button.
"Hey, cool! When did you get that?" Ginny asked, moving over to get a better look. Tonks grinned, raising her shirt halfway to her small breasts to show off the jewel.
"Yesterday. Pretty nifty, isn't it?"
"What kind of girl?" Severus asked, ignoring the belly button ring, and the belly, and Ginny. He'd only barely arrived himself, and was still trying to wake from the precious thirty minutes of sleep he'd found in his office after his last class had been dismissed.
"I dunno. Some girl with red hair and green eyes. Said it's about autumn."
"A witch?" Moody asked, and Tonks shook her head.
"Don't think so."
"You mean you let a Muggle see you coming in here?!"
"No, Mad-Eye. I told her to wait on the other side of Number Eleven. She seemed pretty affable after I promised I'd tell Severus she was out there."
A red-headed Muggle who wanted to talk about Autumn. Severus felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach and he pushed away from the table quickly, even as Moody turned his criticism on him. "You told a Muggle where we are?" he asked incredulously.
"That's right, Moody, I took out an ad in the Times, too. I hope that was acceptable?" Severus rolled his eyes as he headed into the hall.
"Tonks, Shacklebolt, you two should go with him. Keep an eye on him."
I'm not going to put any of us in danger, you imbecile. Not that I wouldn't mind being rid of you, but that would necessitate putting myself in danger as well, and I have too much regard for my own skin. "Whatever," Severus replied over his shoulder. "But I'm not waiting for anyone."
"Severus, what's going on?"
That voice was Remus' and Severus did slow half a step to fill him in. "A Muggle with red hair and green eyes and a message about Autumn," he replied, exchanging a meaningful look with the werewolf. Remus was the only one to whom any of that would be relevant.
"I'll come with you."
Severus burst out of the front door, Lupin close on his heels, then Tonks and Shacklbolt right behind them. "Willow!" Severus exclaimed as he came to a halt on the sidewalk, the others filling in behind him.
"Cool!" she exclaimed, ducking to peer at the space between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. "How did you do that?"
"It's like breathing," Severus replied impatiently, using her own words from lunch on Saturday. She grinned, and he knew she understood that particular line of conversation was over with. "What are you doing here?"
"More importantly, how did you find here?" Shacklebolt obviously had different priorities than Severus.
"No, more importantly, what are you doing here? What about Autumn?"
"Oh." Willow looked at Severus for a long moment, her eyes locking onto his and instinctively he closed his mind, once more not knowing why he bothered. She was, after all, just a Muggle. "Autumn needs you, Severus."
He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, relief flushing over him. "I wish I could spend a quiet evening with her too, but…"
"Is this about a girl?" Tonks asked. Severus pointedly ignored her.
"No, she needs you, Severus. Urgently. I think…" she cast a look at his companions, frowning slightly. "I can't explain it. But you must go to her. It's critical."
"Willow, do you know something?" She was quiet, and he barely resisted the urge to shake her. "Do you think you know something?"
"Do you have any idea what this is about, Remus?" Shacklebolt again.
"Some vague idea that doesn't need explaining here and now," Remus replied smoothly.
"I never know…"
"Damnit, Willow, I need to know what you're doing here, and I need you to give me a straight answer!" He did clutch her shoulders this time, and he shook her slightly.
"I think…" Willow looked over his shoulder, and then back into his eyes. "I think she's in danger. But it's so hard to say… Earlier I thought you were just going to…"
"Severus, we'll be inside," Tonks was saying.
"What kind of danger?"
"I don't know," Willow insisted. "Men. A lot of them. And there's something with a snake and… I just don't know."
Severus let go of her abruptly and caught Remus' eye. "I have to go," he said simply.
Remus nodded. "I'll take care of things here."
"Where are you going?" Tonks asked, wide-eyed. Shacklebolt was already disappearing back into headquarters.
"She's a friend of mine and… I can't explain it, Tonks, not now, but I have to go. I can't leave it to chance."
Tonks nodded. "Right. Then I'm going with you."
"So am I," Bill had appeared suddenly. "And Moody's coming too. Where are we going?"
"Westminster," Severus answered promptly. "There's an abandoned tube station called Aldwych." Without another word, he Disapparated, and Apparated again in the station in question.
"Lumos," he murmured, holding out his wand, and a light appeared on the end of it. He didn't wait for his companions, but did hear a trio of popping sounds as they appeared.
"Are you sure this is an abandoned station?" came Tonks' nervous-sounding voice.
"Quite," Severus replied. "Come on." He led them up the stairs, and through the station which was littered with graffiti and dirt. He hopped soundlessly over the grill that served to block the station from most law-abiding citizens, though the litter of broken bottles and fast food wrappers and cigarette butts showed that not everyone in London was so law-abiding as all that.
They emerged onto Strand, and Severus led the way past Kings College and half a dozen streets before pointing to the building where Autumn lived. "She's on the second floor," he said softly, his wand in his pocket again, but within easy reach. Tonks and Bill both looked as though they belonged here, so close to the college, with their modern, Muggle looks. Severus, over the last week, had learned not to be conspicuous in London, but that was when he was wearing Muggle street clothes instead of robes, as he was now. Even so, he did not look so out of place as Moody, who stuck out like a sore thumb.
Severus rang the bell, and after a moment, the door to the building opened, admitting the four of them. Up the stairs, three doors down on the right, Severus paused. "What can you see?" he asked Moody. Moody shook his head.
"Nothing," he replied. "There's a woman in there dancing with a spoon."
Tonks snickered. "Well, Willow said she needed you; she didn't say for what. Maybe you're a better dance partner than… hey!"
Someone had obviously elbowed her, but Severus didn't pause to see why. He lifted his hand and knocked firmly on the door, and, after a moment, Autumn opened it, grinning. Her smile faded somewhat when she saw his companions, and Severus could almost see her disappointment that he wasn't alone.
"Severus!" she flung her arms around him. "Willow said you'd be he—"
"I hate to be rude, Autumn, but may we come in?"
"Of course," she replied, stepping aside, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Moody, her smile broadening at Bill.
When the door was firmly shut, Severus looked around. "Are you all right, Autumn?" he asked, concern still edging his voice.
"Of course," she repeated lightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
His eyes scanned the room, and he could tell that Moody was doing the same, which was something of a relief. For once, Severus was quite glad to have the ex-Auror with his magical eye.
"Willow said something that—"
"I'm sorry I'm not really ready and… I was so busy… you aren't really dressed for dinner either, are you?"
The sinking feeling in the pit of Severus' stomach had returned, but now it had little to do with concern for Autumn's safety. "Dinner?" he asked weakly.
"Yes. She said you'd be here around eight, and…" the clock began chiming, and Severus wasn't the only wizard who looked at it. He was, however, the only one who grimaced at seeing it read eight o'clock. He lifted his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, suddenly in possession of a headache.
"Snape, is this your idea of a joke?" Moody folded his arms across his chest and was glaring pointedly at Severus. Tonks, damn the woman, looked amused.
"No, it isn't," Severus replied evenly, then looked at Autumn. "Is it? Because if it is, I'm not laughing."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Willow said you'd be here to pick me up for dinner, but it was just after noon when she told me that, and I didn't think you were coming so I didn't come in and get dressed like I should have and... What's going on?"
"I don't know," he replied. "But I think I have more than a few choice words for Willow." He looked around the flat once more. "You're sure everything is fine?" he asked.
"Positive."
He sighed again and leaned forward, kissing her cheek. "I have to go," he said softly. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Autumn. I'll… we'll have dinner some time next week, maybe, all right?" She looked a bit deflated, but nodded.
"Come on," Severus muttered, avoiding the others' eyes. "I was wrong."
He opened the door, but had no sooner touched the knob when a searing pain wrenched through him, starting on his arm. He clutched his arm suddenly, and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Severus?" Tonks asked, and he caught her eye, then looked at Moody, whom he knew understood what was happening.
"Get Autumn out of here," he hissed, and then, defying all laws, Disapparated from the spot and into the closet at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, where he snatched his cloak and mask, donning them quickly and Disapparated again.
The seconds he lost retrieving cloak and mask were enough to mark him as the third to last of the Death Eaters to arrive at the Dark Lord's side, and, as he crawled across the ground, a sense of dread crept over him. He had not been successful in convincing the Dark Lord that his predicament of location was worthy of leniency when it came to being late, and the last meeting had begun with anger over stragglers. Of which Severus was now one. There were five of them still on the ground, and suddenly the Dark Lord stepped away, denying the two in front of Severus the privilege of kissing the hem of his robes.
"I believe that the last time we gathered, I promised that the five who showed up latest would receive a special reward," he hissed. "And that would be you five. Stand, all of you, and be thankful that we haven't the time for this fun to be drawn out. Malfoy! Crabbe! Goyle! Avery! Nott! Show these men what it means to be late."
It was Crabbe who hauled Snape up with a beefy hand on his arm, then stepped back, radiating a pleasure that even cloak and mask could not conceal. "Crucio!" he yelled, and Snape was only vaguely aware of the same curse being applied to the others. It was as though his veins had been filled with molten lightning, and his head wrenched back, a scream issuing from his throat as pain ripped through every pore of his body. He was left panting, collapsed on ground, barely able to support himself with his hands for a moment, his head spinning and ears ringing. After a moment, he struggled to his feet and took his place in the circle, still panting.
"Thank you, my Lord," he forced out between ragged gasps.
One by one, the other four found their places in the circle, and they, too, thanked the Dark Lord. For teaching them a very effective lesson.
"This evening, my Death Eaters," came the dry hiss of Voldemort's voice, "we gather for an impromptu celebration. This woman," he lifted his wand, and slowly a figure squeezed from the end of it, like a blob of gelatin coming to a wavering rest on the ground. Snape couldn't hear another word the Dark Lord was saying, though. He was too busy being horrified at the image before him. It was not, as he had been half afraid, Autumn. It was Willow, her silken red hair seeming to wave in the wind. Snape felt ill.
"Go, now, to Westminster, where she was last seen entering a flat. And, any you find besides her, you may keep for your own pleasure. Go!"
The popping around him of Wizards Disapparating made Snape gather his nerves. He hadn't heard where they were directed, but he knew, without a doubt, where they were going. He Disapparated as well, and when he reappeared, it was in front of Autumn's flat, along with half a dozen other Death Eaters.
The effects of the Cruciatus Curse were still hampering his senses, or perhaps he would have realized that something was different. Something was very different.
"Alohamora," murmured a voice that could have only belonged to Lucius Malfoy, and the door swung open gently. To Severus' great relief, there was no sign of Autumn. Lucius used his wand to direct Crabbe and Goyle to stand watch outside the door, then the rest of them inside. Avery and Nott peeled off to the left, the Lestranges to the right. Snape and Macnair headed straight ahead, and Snape had to make a point not to be too sure of his step in what was supposed to be a strange flat.
"Impedimenta!" A flash of sparks rained down on them suddenly, and Severus aimed his wand at the direction of the attack.
"Protego!" he yelled, ducking out of the way, and suddenly chaos broke out all over the small flat. Cries of 'Impedimenta' and 'Crucio' were interspersed with crashes as vases were knocked over and bookshelves collapsed. 'Reducto' and 'Diffindo' were punctuated with muttered curses as people ran into furniture and walls, and slowly, the battle began to take form.
Snape found himself facing off with Remus Lupin, and for a moment, he hoped that the other Wizard would not push him too hard. Snape knew he could defend himself, but he wasn't sure he could keep the other man from harm at the same time.
"Well," Lupin said softly, "looks as though we were right all along, doesn't it? Always knew you were more interested in the Dark Arts than in the Defense Against…" Lupin threw a Stinging Hex at him, and Snape deflected it.
"How I've waited for this day," Snape replied, his eyes narrowing into beads of obsidian. Do not forget who he is, he reminded himself. "Stupefy!"
"Protego! Stupefy!"
Severus sidestepped the worst of the sparks, but felt the curse hit him, and for a moment, he was immobilized. Lupin started to back away, though, and Snape forced his wand to cooperate. "Incendio!" he hissed, and a fire started at Lupin's robes. While the werewolf was busy with his robes, Severus sent a Conjunctivitis Spell towards him, with the desired effect, and Lupin stumbled backwards.
"Stupefy!"
Snape was still once more, caught by a curse he couldn't quite deflect, and with a distant part of his mind, he heard Malfoy crying "Fall back! Retreat, damn it! Get the fuck out of here!"
"Don't worry," Lupin was whispering as he made the pretense of trying to disarm Severus. "Autumn is safe. She's back at Headquarters."
"Get the hell out of here," Snape hissed through clenched teeth, and suddenly lurched forward, putting all his energy into defeating the stunning spell. He was scrambling to his feet when he suddenly heard a voice behind him.
"Snape! Move! Avada—"
Lupin dove aside, and, with a glance over his shoulder at Avery, Snape made up his mind quickly. He raised his wand directly to the other wizard and hissed, "Crucio!" then turned away, trying to block out the scream that wrenched from Lupin's mouth. It's better than the killing curse, he thought desperately towards Lupin by way of apology. As he Disapparated, though, he could still hear Lupin's scream ringing through his ears.
Apparating at the Dark Lord's side was not a thought that Snape relished, but he didn't have long to dread it. And, at least he wasn't the first one there. Somehow, being one of the last made it seem that he was more loyal, that he'd held out longer. The Dark Lord was fuming.
"What happened?" he hissed, pointing his wand at Nott, who collapsed in a screaming fit.
"They knew, my lord. They were waiting for us," Lucius replied, his voice calm enough to fool most, but Severus could hear the edge of fear in it. And little wonder. After all, the Dark Lord was far from pleased.
"And how did they know?" he asked, stepping towards Malfoy. "How indeed. It would seem that we have a leak among us. It isn't you, is it Malfoy? Crucio!"
This time it was Malfoy's screams that pierced the night, and he collapsed into a sobbing heap on the ground. "N-no, my Lord," he gasped.
"Was it you, Crabbe? Crucio!" A great roar ripped from Crabbe's throat, until he, too, was on the ground, shaking.
"N-n-no, my Lord," he whispered.
"Was it you, Goyle? Crucio!"
One by one, the Dark Lord asked each of the assembled Death Eaters if it had been he who revealed the plan, and one by one, they were subjected to the Cruciatus curse, and collapsed, quivering, onto the ground. No one admitted to the charge, and Severus found himself staring at the wand of the feared Dark Lord.
"Was it you, Snape?" he asked softly, and Snape shook his head, but to no avail. "Crucio!" For a second time that evening, Snape felt his blood turn to liquid fire, and he cried out sharply as the pain coursed through his body, as though it was ripping out his entrails.
He collapsed to the ground, his fingers burying in the soft, cool grass, struggling valiantly to stand again, struggling to keep control of his mind while his body was subjected to such torture. "N-no, my Lord," he wheezed, and the Dark Lord moved on.
"No one, it seems, wishes to admit to it. Perhaps we should try again. Was it you, Malfoy?"
"No, my Lord, pl-please, I sw-swear i—" the pleading was interrupted by Lucius' screams as the Cruciatus Curse was applied again. And again on each of them, including Snape, who was barely able to hold onto his consciousness after three rounds of it. And then the Dark Lord made the circuit again. This time, half the Death Eaters were whimpering, begging to be believed. Snape could no longer stand, but he refused to beg and whimper, and kept his silence when the curse was not actively applied to him.
After four rounds, the Dark Lord stepped into the middle of the circle again. "Dolohov!" he cried, "and Avery. You two may go." The two of them disappeared. "Nott! Macnair! You two may go." Two at a time, the circle was reduced, and finally, when there were only six of them left, Snape's name was called, and he was released as well. He heard the Dark Lord's words just drifting on the soft breeze: "It would make sense that the one who leaked the information is one who knew about it. That leaves you four. Either through stupidity or treachery, but think carefully, my slippery Malfoy. What do you know about tonight's failure?"
Severus Disapparated before he had to hear the screams again. He'd had quite enough of Crucio for one night.
The bedroom on the third floor, abandoned to all but spiders and dust bunnies, was as dark and quiet as he'd expected it would be when he Apparated into it. Hands shaking, heart pounding, head spinning, knees weak, Severus doffed his mask and cloak, and let them fall onto the unmade bed. He'd do something with them later. After he had faced the horde downstairs.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the after-effects of Cruciatus raked through him as he thought of going into that crowd. He could hear them, the noises that were inherent when so many were gathered in a house—footsteps, doors opening and closing, murmurs of voices and the occasional bang he couldn't account for. A quick mental head-count of who all had been in Autumn's flat and who all had been here before he'd departed and who all was expected to be there at some point, and Severus very nearly collapsed from the sheer horror attached to the thought of going downstairs and facing them all.
They were not likely to be happy with him. His mind—or at least the part of it that wasn't numb with pain—was whirling ever-faster around his excuse. Had he not cast the cruciatus, Avery would have cast a curse instead. Only Avery would not have been so kind.
Kind. He nearly snorted at the thought, holding his hands in front of him and watching as they shook uncontrollably, giving him the appearance of a very old, frail man suddenly. The cruciatus was a curse that enraged every nerve in one's body, making them all simultaneously spasm, and Severus knew that he would likely be shaking for days to come. He would be shaking, because his body had grown somewhat accustomed to the curse, being that the body is a highly adaptable creation. Remus, of course, would not think he had been kind.
A wave of nausea passed over him, and a wave of dizziness, he stood very still, waiting until it passed before he dared to move and shift his center of gravity. When the urge to vomit had passed, he took a tentative step forward, reeling slightly and catching himself on the wall before he fell, and then stood there for another long moment as another wave of nausea and dizziness crashed over his senses. Wave upon cresting wave, he endured the bumpy ride until finally, after several long minutes, he trusted himself to stand again. His senses and body were slowly returning to his command, and he waited patiently for domination of himself, feeling it return by degrees.
When he could control his body to the point that he could reach for the door knob and not miss, Severus steeled himself and opened the door. The voices from downstairs were clearer now, and he stepped quietly into his room, crouching at the base of the wardrobe and pulling out a small case filled with various bottles of potions he didn't dare leave Hogwarts without. There were two tucked into the back that were a pale, shimmering green. He uncapped one of them and tilted his head back, drinking it greedily despite the sickeningly sweet taste that made his tongue curl far more than the most bitter concoction he could produce. As the liquid seared down his throat, he began to feel less detached from his body, less like death walking, and he stared at the second bottle for a long moment. If he were to drink it, the effects of the curse would be eradicated from him almost entirely. As it was now, he knew that he was in for a long night of jolting awake from cramps and spasms, and probably a week before the shaking subsided completely. It was a powerful potion, but it had to be taken within an hour of the curse, or it was all but useless, and after enduring four of the curses in such a short span of time, Severus knew that he needed the second vial if he was to heal fully from them. At least, if he was to heal fully before the next scheduled meeting.
He stood slowly, pocketing the small bottle, then, almost as an afterthought, donned his outer robes and slipped out of the bedroom and into the corridor. As he made his way downstairs, he clutched the banister for support, and didn't even try to avoid the squeaky step. When he reached the landing between the second and first floor, he was already greeted with a dozen or more people staring up at him. There was no word of conversation, and he made it a point not to notice too fully the distrust and doubt in eyes that had, only a day ago, looked at him with respect and confidence. He barely paused before pressing his way to the ground floor.
"Where is Lupin?" he asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and prayed that they didn't say the werewolf was upstairs; Severus didn't know if he had the strength to go back upstairs just yet.
"He's resting in the lounge," Molly replied after a long silence made it clear that no one else was going to.
Severus only nodded, and pushed his way through the gathered people, ignoring their offended looks and ignoring protests from Molly and Tonks that he 'wasn't going to disturb Remus!' "Lumos," he breathed into the darkened room, and the end of his wand glowed softly, casting a faint light in the gloom.
Lupin lay on a couch, soft sounds escaping his lips as he shook, his eyes closed, face wrenched into a painful grimace. Severus walked swiftly towards him and crouched at his side. "Remus," he said softly, pressing a hand under the other man's head and lifting it. "Look at me. Open your eyes, Remus, and look at me." Lupin opened his eyes and looked at Severus, but it made the Death Eater's heart clench to see the fear on that face. There was no decision to be made. He reached into his robe and withdrew the bottle of potion, uncapping it with his thumb and catching the lid deftly in his palm.
"Drink this," he whispered, pressing the bottle to Lupin's lip. Lupin stared at him, obviously not sure if it was a good idea or not, and Severus sighed softly. "Trust me, Remus. It will help. Trust me."
"I'm fine," Lupin choked out, and Severus scowled.
"Like hell you are," he muttered, shifting his hand behind Remus' head and tilting the other wizard's head back. He tipped the bottle slightly, giving Lupin the choice of drinking or drowning, and then clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from spitting it out. "Swallow it, you pig-headed Gryffindor," he hissed, and, after a moment of fighting, Remus swallowed it, making a face. Only a few seconds later, most of the gloss had left his eyes, and Severus lowered his head to the cushion again. "I know you don't believe me now," he murmured, his head close to Lupin's, "but it was merciful. The others would have…"
Lupin wrapped his fingers around Severus' hand and shook his head. "I know," he whispered hoarsely. "I heard the words being spoken."
It was as though a weight were lifted from Severus' heart and he very nearly smiled. "Rest," he advised. "Tonight and all day tomorrow, and let Molly stuff you with food." Having thus dispensed his compassion for the evening, Severus stood slowly, regaining his footing, and turned to scowl at the small crowd at the door.
"Really," Severus muttered as he pushed past them, "If I'd wanted to kill him, I would have done it earlier. He's slow enough on the defense that I had plenty of opportunities." To his chagrin, he heard Remus chuckling softly, but ignored it. "Where's Willow?" he asked, looking at Moody. "I need explanations."
Moody was watching him carefully, and for a minute, Severus thought that the old bastard was going to be contrary, but after a pause, he jerked his head towards the drawing room. "In there," he replied, still watching Severus. "Hope you have better luck with her than we did."
Severus snorted. "I will," he replied, words that might have sounded haughty had they not been so resolute.
A/N:
Tall Oaks: Thank you! I'm glad you're impressed! I keep fearing that I'm getting too far from their characters, so I'm pleased to hear you find it realistic.
Cecelle: thanks for pointing that out about the brandy snifTers. Is it painfully obvious that I don't drink brandy (or cognac) yet? I was also told I'd misspelled Courvoisier; can't remember if I've corrected that here or not.
Silverthreads: Severus thought about dumping the letters in McG's lap. Or rather, I thought about it, but he rolled his eyes at me. I think he found the idea something akin to 'tattling' and his pride wouldn't let him.