A/N: I know it took a while to update… a horrible thing called Real Life has been rearing its ugly head and throwing things like papers and presentations at me. But for those of you who have been waiting patiently, here's a bonus: Not only is this the longest chapter in the story, but there's another one posted right after it. Two for one! Have fun reading!
Up From the Dust
Chapter 7: The Inside of the Trap
Harry didn't know how long they had sat in silence, but it had to have been hours.
The cells he and Professor Snape currently occupied were roughly seven feet square, with ceilings about six feet high. Harry sat with his back against the bars, staring through the adjoining cell wall at Snape. From the other cell, Professor Snape stared back at him. No words were exchanged between the two, but the animosity in the dark room was tangible. Snape's forehead was no longer bleeding, but his shirt was bloodstained from its use as a towel. His hair was a mess; Harry thought his own probably looked the same.
Well, at least Malfoy hadn't been entirely right; the cut on Snape's head was on the wrong side and looked more like a tree than a lightning bolt. Not to mention it covered a much larger area. There was definitely only one Harry Potter in the room.
The thought wasn't really very comforting, considering the situation.
This really sucks, thought Harry. Not only was he most likely doomed, but he was stuck in a dungeon with Professor Snape a few paces away. It's your fault that he's here, whispered a traitorous voice at the back of his head. Harry pushed it away.
Harry didn't want to die. He had heard Malfoy, and despite what Snape might think, Harry was not stupid. He had put the pieces together: new moon, life-draining spell, Voldemort, Julia, and the dead American named Monica. He had no desire to be the next victim of what was obviously a very powerful piece of Dark magic.
Of course, escaping would mean he had to cooperate with the man who was just then shooting a look at him that would wilt everything in Greenhouse Five.
Hell, thought Harry, it's better than dying.
"Professor Snape," he said tentatively.
Snape ignored him; he simply placed his right hand on his left and began to spin the ring there.
Harry sighed inwardly, then continued.
"I – um… I'm sorry. For thinking you were on the wrong side." Snape's silence continued, and Harry gritted his teeth. There was no easy way of doing anything with Snape.
"Malfoy was right. We've been acting like children. We should be working together to get out of here, not sitting around doing nothing. We have two days until the new moon…." Harry trailed off, looking toward the shadowed far end of the room where the doorway was hidden. This was getting nowhere. The silence stretched on, and just when Harry was about to try again, Snape's voice cut across the room.
"Aren't you afraid that I'll turn you in to the Death Eaters the second we get out? Go running to my Master and lick his boots? Laugh with Lucius over this little joke? Oh yes, I am so very entertained by this situation. I'm such a masochist, being poisoned and locked in a dungeon are things that I ask for daily. After all, I'm merely here to play mind games with the Boy Who Lived. Once we've killed you and assured certain victory for the Dark side, I'll be off to share a bottle of Old Ogden's with Lucius and rape some Muggles." Snape's voice was as sarcastic and biting as ever, but not nearly as strong-willed, and Harry realized with an unpleasant feeling of shame that he had managed not only to anger and annoy, but to actually insult Professor Snape. He should have known after all of this time, after all of Dumbledore's assurances, the information Snape gave the Order of the Phoenix, Snape's failed attempt to teach Harry Occlumency, and, as few people knew, his frequent trips to the Hospital Wing, that Snape was on their side.
"I – I didn't think, Professor."
"You never think, Potter. What have six years of Hogwarts and more than two years of war taught you? What have I taught you? Nothing."
"That isn't true! I've learned everything I know at Hogwarts. I'd be dead if it wasn't for Hogwarts. Look, Professor, I'm sorry! But we have to get out of here! We can't keep arguing!"
Snape opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. Harry looked over into the patch of light to see the Dark witch who had attacked him enter the room, followed by Malfoy and two hulking, masked Death Eaters.
"It's too dark in here. How am I supposed to see anything? LUMOS!" The basement was filled with gray, sourceless light as the witch spoke.
"Dark Lady," came Lucius's voice, "Am I allowed to do anything I please with them?" His eyes glittered as he swept his gaze over Harry and Snape, and his face was flushed with anticipation. It was a close call, but Lucius Malfoy enjoyed torturing people even more than he enjoyed bragging.
"No. The boy is to be untouched. You can do as you wish with the other; I have no use for him."
"Can I kill him?"
"No. The Dark Lord will kill him. Otherwise, you may do whatever you'd like. But for the gods' sake, try something besides the Cruciatus for once!" She stepped forward to Snape's cell.
"Come here, Severus!"
Snape spat at her feet. "Go to hell, Juliette. I'm not your slave."
In response, Juliette cast the Corpus Imperius curse on Snape and forced him to walk to her. He stood rigidly at the threshold of the cell as she waved the bars apart. Juliette turned her attention to Lucius, speaking in a cold, informatory manner. Snape might as well have been a demonstration dummy in an advanced Transfiguration class. "As you see, Malfoy, there are many ways to torture a human being other than the Cruciatus. A Petrifying or Controlling spell keeps the subject from moving about too much, after which you may do whatever you wish."
Lucius pursed his lips, looking put out. He was quite familiar with more than enough forms of physical torture.
"I see you've tried your hand with a Cutting charm – rather childish. Psychological torture works better. Doesn't it, my dearest." Snape looked like he very much wanted to say something. "Severus hates being controlled – it's one reason why he was always so good at the Imperius curse… and why I prefer to use this version of the spell instead – it's nearly impossible to fight. And I know you prefer females, Malfoy, but if his refusal to do so in the past is any indication, he fears being raped as well."
At this point, Harry closed his eyes. Being talked over like a piece of meat, having torture methods discussed right on front of him… it was like a surreal nightmare. Professor Snape, raped? It was too much. Harry heard Snape's cell close again and opened his eyes with a start as his professor slammed into the wall. Juliette was leaving, but Lucius and his Death Eaters had stayed behind as the door shut again.
To his surprise, it was Snape who talked first, and his words at first seemed to have little meaning.
"On your own son, Lucius? He's probably going to be expelled for stabbing Potter."
Malfoy shrugged. "He was getting soft. As you seem to have gotten. Really, Severus, now that it's finally out, what were you thinking?"
Snape gave Malfoy a somewhat confused look, then began to laugh, softly at first and then louder. It was disconcerting to see the normally stoic, proud, upright man sitting on the floor in barely any clothes, hair disheveled, face bloody, laughing like a lunatic. His laughs grew in volume and echoed off of the walls, making it seem like a great crowd of Severus Snapes was laughing at Malfoy. Finally, his hysterics tapered off and he looked squarely at Malfoy, the out-of-place smile still on his face.
"You think I just turned? You fool! I've been a spy since I was nineteen years old! I've sabotaged every plan I could get my plans on – I even gave your victims the Draught of Living Death and had them put in hiding! And now I find out that you never suspected… Oh, gods, Lucius, you're an idiot." And Snape began to laugh again, until Harry, sitting silently in his own cell, could not tell if his Potions Professor was really laughing or beginning to cry.
He's finally snapped, thought Harry incredulously. He's gone completely mental.
"Silence!" roared Lucius. Snape calmed a bit, and Harry could see that no trace of mirth was to be found on Malfoy's face.
"Think that's funny, do you?!!" he roared, his face turning red. "Think it's funny to betray us?!" Malfoy seemed to catch himself, and his voice dropped to a lower tone.
"You'll pay for your treachery, Snape. With your sanity first, and then your life."
- - - -
"Merlin! I hadn't recognized her."
Professor McGonagall stared into the Pensieve with a mixture of horror and amazement. Her expression was reflected in the faces of the other assembled faculty who had met in Dumbledore's office to deal with the latest disaster: namely, the disappearance of a student and faculty member.
On Dumbledore's desk lay a wizarding photograph nearly twenty years old. It held two subjects: a young bride and groom. The beautiful bride wore long white dress robes and a dazzling smile. Every now and then she waved at the onlookers; sometimes she took a mirror out of a hidden pocket and checked her appearance. The groom, none other than an eighteen-year-old Severus Snape, looked sourly at McGonagall, then crossed his arms and directed his gaze away from his wife and onlookers.
Next to the photograph sat a Pensieve. Within it was an image of the woman who had attacked the school. She was undoubtedly the same woman as the one in the photograph.
"You'd hardly be expected to, Minerva, considering the fact that she's been presumed dead for the last sixteen years," said Professor Dumbledore wisely. "Filius?"
"Yes, Albus?" squeaked Professor Flitwick.
"Have you had any luck using a Locating Charm on Harry, Severus, or this woman?"
"I'm sorry, Albus. Heavy wards can easily block a Locating Charm. They could be anywhere." The tiny professor seemed even smaller than usual as he said the words.
"Has anyone else found anything?" A murmur of negative comments filled the room. For once, even Professor Trelawney wasn't making a prediction.
Dumbledore sighed, then straightened up. "Continue trying. Professor Vector – how is Slytherin House holding up?"
Vector, the acting head of Slytherin House, spoke up. "The students are all considerably shaken – It's not every day that one's Head of House simply vanishes into thin air – especially at the hands of another student."
"How is Mister Malfoy, anyway?"
"He's still in the hospital wing," said Madam Pomfrey. "He won't say a word to me or anyone else."
"I have a feeling that he knows no more than we do," said the Headmaster. "Leave him alone for now. Continue searching, and report to me if you find anything."
- - - -
"Ow! Ron, watch out!" hissed Hermione as her much larger best friend stepped on her foot for what seemed to be the fiftieth time.
"Sorry, Hermione. I can't see my feet under this bloody cloak, you know!" came the whispered reply. It was close to midnight and two seemingly disembodied voices traveled slowly through the darkened passages of Hogwarts.
"We should just be lucky that Harry didn't lock his trunk. This would be even more difficult if we had to duck behind a suit of armor every time Peeves went by!"
"You have a point there."
Quietly, the two friends opened the door to the library and crept in. Inside, a pair of floating heads appeared, followed closely by their bodies and a pair of lanterns. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley hadn't considered donning their pajamas that night; even the thought of sleeping seemed sinful in light of their best friend's disappearance.
Hermione made a beeline for the Restricted Section, trailing Ron. Inside, she set her lantern down and turned to face him.
"We'll both look in different sections of the Restricted Section and then meet back here," she said. "There has to be something the professors have missed."
Ron looked doubtful. "Are you sure books are our best bet, Hermione? Wouldn't the professors know anything we find already? They've been researching spells all day!"
Classes had been cancelled since the incident at lunchtime in order for the faculty to concentrate their efforts on finding Harry and Professor Snape. In a way it was ironic: Professor Snape would have been furious if he had known that the school was altering its schedule for the sake of the Boy Who Lived.
Hermione gave Ron one of her unnerving "I can't believe you just said something that stupid" looks. "Ron," she said slowly.
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Hogwarts is home to a collection of some of the most talented witches and wizards in the country."
"Yeah?"
"I'm sure there isn't an answer to be found that one of the professors here hasn't discovered or won't find without our help."
Ron gave her a blank look.
"However, a particular magical field is currently a bit underrepresented at Hogwarts."
Ron continued to give her a blank look. Hermione's face began to turn red.
"For God's sake, Ron! Professor SNAPE's missing! There's nobody researching an answer for this in potions!" The stress was getting to Hermione. Her best friend and a professor were missing, she hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep in the last week, and Ron refused to make the tiniest jumps of logic without being talked through step-by-step. Eyes flashing, Hermione threw her hands into the air, her bushier-than-usual hair flying with the sudden movement. She glared at her red-haired friend.
You know, she looks a lot like Professor Snape, thought Ron.
He voiced the thought.
Hermione burst into tears.
Ron wasted only a few seconds looking shocked before wrapping his distraught friend into a tight hug. "I didn't mean it like that, Hermione, you know it," he said softly, patting her fluffy head. "Hey, you know I'm slow… I'm sorry you have to spell everything out for me." Hermione sniffled into the front of Ron's now slightly damp robes. "Come on, your hair's far too unruly for you to be Professor Snape." Hermione snorted. "And you're too short. And your teeth are too white." A muffled giggle arose from the vicinity of his chest, followed by another sniffle. Hermione raised her head and looked up at Ron.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
"It's OK, Hermione."
"We can do this, Ron." Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Picking up her lantern, she straightened up. "You go find Moste Potente Potions. I'll look for something else. There has to be something the professors have missed."
- - - -
The morning of Friday, October 17th saw Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger fast asleep on the floor of the library's restricted section.
- - - -
If the night had been at all productive for Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, it certainly hadn't been for Harry Potter and Severus Snape. After receiving another round of scathing remarks at his second and third attempts to reason with Snape, Harry had given up. The professor was too tall to stand in his cell and for that reason gave up pacing relatively quickly; after that, the two had simply sat in silence. After what had to be hours, Harry lay down on the cold floor and fell asleep.
Harry woke to the same near-darkness he had become accustomed to the previous night. Briefly, he wondered where they could possibly be: he doubted Lucius Malfoy was stupid enough to keep them in his own manor, or that he would own a washing machine.
A small sound caused Harry to look in Professor Snape's direction. The man was asleep on his back next to the wall, his left arm flung out away from his body. The Dark Mark, faded as it was, still stood out against the Potions Master's pale forearm. Snape's dark hair fell in tangles over a stubbly face that was surprisingly calm in sleep, despite its perpetual scowl in wakefulness. In spite of the feelings of animosity he usually had for the man, Harry couldn't help feeling bad for Snape as he lay on the damp, hard floor. Even asleep, he looked as cold as Harry felt, and it was because of Harry that Snape was there.
As Harry watched, Snape muttered something unintelligible and rolled onto his side. A minute later, he rolled back. The process repeated itself for at least ten minutes.
Harry was beginning to wonder if he should wake the restless sleeper when Snape's eyes opened suddenly. The professor sat up abruptly, then noticed Harry. The scowl returned to his face in record time; perhaps its previous absence had simply been a figment of Harry's imagination.
"Um… good morning, professor," Harry said lamely.
"You don't know if it is morning or not, Potter, and it certainly isn't good," replied Snape. He seated himself against the wall with his knees bent and slightly apart, his long arms draped over them and his head against the wall. He turned his head so that he was facing his student and fellow prisoner.
Harry frowned at him. "We have to get out of here."
"By all means, Potter, feel free to use the invisible trapdoor conveniently located in your cell. It would be such a pity to pose an inconvenience to the Boy Who Lived."
"How can you possibly be so sarcastic thirty seconds after waking up? I would have thought even you go through some period of humanity before you warm up for the day." Sleeping on a concrete floor had not made Harry any more careful in his choice of words.
Snape opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. He turned to look out into the darkness of the room. "I'm just as human as you are, despite what you would like to believe." He paused. "You're-" he nearly choked the words out – "right, Potter. We need to get out of here. Malfoy will probably be back soon. He never did have any creativity when it came to torture – I'm sure my sanity will be intact when he's through with me, no matter what he thinks." Snape said these last words with a cold practicality that made Harry shudder.
"What are we going to do?"
"I will try to reason with Malfoy. You will keep your mouth shut."
"Yes, sir," said Harry.
"And ten points from Gryffindor for your insolent remarks."
Harry gave no protest. Disturbingly, the point deduction made him feel a little better.
- - - -
What had to be more than an hour later, the door at the far end of the room opened once again. Severus looked up to see three men enter the room; Lucius Malfoy's voice called out "Lumos!" and the two hulking men flanking him became recognizable as Crabbe and Goyle, senior.
"Awake already, Sev? And here I thought I would get to wake you up with the Cruciatus. I've always found it entertaining, haven't you?"
"Just about as entertaining as listening to your idiotic bragging," muttered Severus under his breath.
"Pardon?"
"I said, 'Fuck you.'"
"Tut, tut, Severus. You really must be losing your touch, resorting to the use of such a blunt verbal weapon." Malfoy now stood just outside of Severus's cell. Potter was silent in his own.
Malfoy pointed his wand at Severus, but did not cast a spell as Severus raised his hand in front of him.
"Lucius, are you daft? You've been reduced to running errands and interrogating prisoners. If you think killing me is going to get you back at the Dark's Lord's side, you're wrong. He's already chosen a new right hand, and she will beat you to the ground." Inwardly, Severus crossed his fingers and prayed for Lucius to display a little gullibility
Lucius turned to his bodyguards as if he hadn't heard Severus at all. "Crabbe! Goyle!" He gestured toward a large, empty plastic garbage can near the cleaning supplies, then returned his attention to Severus. "My old friend, you never cease in your attempts at manipulation. It really is too bad you turned on us… but you won't be manipulating me anytime soon. It should take me just until the new moon rises to kill you, Severus. Well, that is, to almost kill you – the Dark Lord wants that part for himself. The timing is perfect." With a swish of Malfoy's wand, Severus was bound hand and foot, and his cell door slid open. Crabbe and Goyle entered the cell, carrying in the large plastic can.
Lucius spoke the Cruciatus curse almost casually, and Severus stiffened in pain. He felt like he were being boiled alive. I'll die before I scream, he thought, clenching his jaw. His self-imposed paralysis kept him silent.
Malfoy turned to Potter's cell, all the while keeping his wand trained on Severus.
"You see, Mister Potter," he began, speaking as a lecturer might speak to a new class, "Severus here has developed an annoying ability to contain himself in the face of excruciating pain. I assure you, he's not immune to the curse – right now he probably feels as if I've drenched him in oil and set him on fire. However, I find it much less amusing when the victim is so silent." He flicked his wand to cut off the curse, and Severus fell to his knees. "I've learned over the years, however, that fear causes an intensification of pain. You see, I've managed to make pain into a type of science, complete with rules and principles just as a proper science ought to have. You, my boy, will be lucky enough to witness those principles in action. Before you die, that is." Potter looked like he might be ill.
As Crabbe and Goyle hauled him to his feet, Severus knew he had lost. He shot an almost regretful look at Potter, his "audience," as Malfoy began to fill the garbage can with water.
- - - -
Harry had seen his fair share of sadistic people in his seventeen years, but he'd never come across anything like Malfoy's lecture on the "science of pain."
Harry didn't want this. Oh, no. Certainly, he didn't want to be in this dungeon. And of course he didn't want to be a human sacrifice when the new moon arrived. But right now, more than anything else, he didn't want to be witness to the torture of one of his teachers. Especially Snape, whom he had loathed for more than six years. Somehow that hatred made him feel worse than if it had been someone he liked.
Conflicting emotions swirled with a definite sense of dread in Harry's brain as Crabbe and Goyle hoisted Professor Snape off of the cold floor. Even now Harry felt guilty: guilty for hating Snape, guilty for having to watch, guilty for being safe from this treatment, guilty that he was somehow glad to be safe from it. What would be worse, he wondered. Watching, or closing his eyes?
Pinned between Crabbe and Goyle, Snape grew even paler as Malfoy finished filling the plastic can with water. He clenched his jaw looked with hatred at Malfoy.
"You. Bastard," he spat.
Lucius smiled thinly.
"I was just a child when I told you about – about – that! How could you use it against me!?"
Uncomprehending, Harry watched as Lucius chuckled and stepped forward to look Snape in the eye. "I was already a Death Eater when you were eleven years old, Severus. You were easy to manipulate."
Snape made a desperate lunge, managing to free his right hand for a moment and taking a wild swing at Malfoy. Crabbe instantly seized his arm again and Snape's fist hit nothing but air; Malfoy did not look amused.
"I think I've had enough chatting, Severus." He looked at his minions. "Well, dunk him in." Against his will, Harry's found his gaze locked on Professor Snape and his captors.
Despite his obvious fury at Malfoy, Snape initially kept somewhat calm. As Goyle grabbed Snape by his hair and pushed him toward the water's surface, Snape simply took a deep breath. Goyle pushed down until Snape was submerged nearly to the waist, but Snape did not struggle.
Involuntarily, Harry held his own breath. The seconds went by with aching slowness. After half a minute, Malfoy waved a hand and Goyle pulled Snape out of the water. Snape gasped for air, straggling bits of black hair streaming into his face. Harry had just released the breath he was holding and begun to draw a new one when Goyle pushed Snape underwater again.
"You can't do that!" yelled Harry impulsively. "You'll kill him if you don't let him breathe!"
Malfoy briefly turned away from the three other men. "He'll survive long enough. Look, he hasn't even begun to struggle yet." With a sadistic smile, he motioned for his lackeys to pull Snape out again.
"Having fun yet, Severus?" He chuckled as Snape coughed harshly.
"Go to hell, you -"
Snape's insult was abruptly cut off. Lucius had motioned to Goyle just as Snape reached the end of his exhalation, and started to laugh openly as Snape began to fight against the two men holding him down.
As a child, Harry had once gotten into a fight with Dudley at a public pool. The nine-year-old Dudley had pushed Harry into the deep end, and Harry had made the mistake of yelling as he fell. Hitting the water with empty lungs had been terrifying; the few seconds it had taken to swim back to the surface had seemed like an eternity.
"Stop!" Harry yelled now. His interruption caused Lucius to stop laughing. Turning toward Harry in annoyance, he whipped his wand back out and hissed "Silencio!" Any further protests from Harry were cut off by the Silencing Charm. He turned back to Crabbe and Goyle and made an "up" motion with his hand.
Snape's inhalation was ragged and desperate. He looked wildly at Lucius through a curtain of wet hair as the blonde man stepped closer. Goyle's large fist still held him by the hair, and Crabbe's hands were like vises on his arms.
Lucius placed a hand atop Snape's head in what could have been, in other circumstances, a brotherly gesture. Smiling, he pushed down. Snape inhaled loudly. A few more inches, and Snape whispered "no." He repeated the word as Malfoy pushed him closer to the water. Snape's rather large nose was just touching the water's surface when a strangled "please" escaped his lips.
It was a moment of victory for Lucius Malfoy. His smile broadened as he pushed Snape's head underwater again and had Goyle hold the struggling man underwater for what seemed an eternity.
His wand was ready when the time was up. The sound of screaming was not far behind.
- - - -
"D'you reckon classes were cancelled today?" whispered Ron Weasley as he rubbed at his eyes. Opposite him, Hermione rolled her eyes and covered the two of them with Harry's cloak.
Cautiously, they snuck out of the Restricted Section and past the crowd of Ravenclaws that had assembled in the library, hurrying to the Gryffindor common room.
"A Summoning Potion. Of course, Ron, why didn't we think of it before?!" Hermione waved a book in the air as if it didn't weigh close to ten pounds. She was practically giddy with excitement.
"I thought you said last night that we didn't have the ingredients for a Summoning Potion," said Ron, flopping down into a chair. "Don't we need blood for those?"
Hermione sat in another chair and began to page through the book. "Yes, we do. We need blood from one of the people we are being summoned to – namely, Harry or Professor Snape."
Ron gave her a blank look. Hermione smiled.
"Don't you remember Potions last week?" she asked. Ron sprang out of his chair.
"Let's just hope Malfoy didn't clean his tabletop very well," said Hermione as they raced out of the common room.
- - - -
Hermione and Ron entered the darkened Potions classroom on tiptoe, silently closing the door behind them.
"I keep expecting Professor Snape to swoop down on us and give us a year of detention," said Ron as the two made their way to the front of the classroom.
"I just hope they're all right."
"You know Hermione, I'd never admit this to anyone, but I hope so too. Even that slimy git." He arrived at the front right table, then looked down at it with dismay. It had been wiped clean enough to practically sparkle.
"Oh, no."
"Look there," said Hermione, pointing at a crack in the surface. Hermione pulled a Muggle bobby pin from her hair and pried off the plastic bubble at the end. She scraped at the crack with the sharp edge of the pin and rust-colored dust came out.
"That would be dried blood," she said proudly. "And the potion only calls for a drop. Hand me a vial – this should be enough."
- - - -
Harry opened his eyes when the screaming stopped. He didn't know how long it had been going on or exactly when he had squeezed his eyes shut, but it had been a good while ago.
Upon looking into the adjoining cell, Harry found the reason for the newfound silence. Crabbe and Goyle held an unconscious Severus Snape between them, and Lucius Malfoy wore a look of triumph on his face. He motioned to the two men and they dropped Snape on the floor. Upon exiting the cell, Malfoy lowered the ceiling to six feet again.
"Look at you," he said to Harry with a smile. "You look almost as bad as Severus! Wonderful. How does it feel, Potter, to be responsible for this?" When Harry said nothing, Malfoy remembered the silencing charm. Removing it, he repeated his question.
"You're the one responsible," choked Harry.
"You don't really believe that," said Malfoy, smirking. Harry couldn't think of a reply.
"I'll be seeing you again very soon," he laughed. The slam of the outer door left Harry in near-darkness once again.
Harry reluctantly turned toward Snape's cell. Snape lay on the floor, soaking wet to the waist. Harry couldn't see his face through the mop of wet hair.
"Professor?" Harry's question was met with silence.
Harry reached through the bars. Stretching as far as he could, he managed to tap one of Professor Snape's hands. "Professor!"
A groan came from Snape's still form, and the cold hand under Harry's twitched. With painful slowness, Snape raised himself onto his hands and knees and then sat back against the wall. His posture reminded Harry of a rag doll's: legs and arms splayed out, head only held up because of the wall behind it.
"That didn't work out… the way I planned," he whispered hoarsely. Every breath looked like it hurt him; however, the fact that he was conscious at all seemed remarkable to Harry.
"Um… That's OK," said Harry, wondering where his own words had come from.
Snape coughed. "I'm sorry, Potter. We're both going to die here." Harry had never in his life imagined that Snape would utter such a sentence. It was scary, and Harry had no idea how to respond.
"Um… we'll get out of here, Professor. There has to be a way," he said weakly.
Snape let out a short, bitter laugh. "No, Potter," he said, shaking his head. "No, there isn't."
- - - -
A/N: Any Princess Bride fans out there will recognize the "science of pain" as Count Rugen's. It just seemed to fit Malfoy so well.
Thanks to Suzuki-chan, SiddaBJR, and Snape Girl1 for reviewing!