2. Twice in a Row
Snape held the junk of rock awkwardly in his stiff hands and beat it against the stonewall. After a few minutes of strenuous work, he let go of the rock, panting, and brushed the dust away. With his fingers he counted the ridges, then let his hand fall to the side as he collapsed onto the dirty ground.
"Six days," he sighed tiredly, closing his eyes against a non-existent sting.
Six days had he been in here; six days of almost non-stop torture sessions; six days of wondering why nobody was coming for his rescue – not that he kept dwelling much on the latter point. Even if they never found him, even ... even if they didn't look for him, well, he would die the death of a martyr, and wasn't that worth dying for?
Snape snorted softly. Hadn't he accused Potter of being exactly that way? Were was his fire, his will to survive? It couldn't have crumbled to ashes just because Draco had tricked him – so openly no less.
Or could it?
Snape smirked lopsidedly, listening to his shallow breathing and the gentle tip-tap of the rats that scuttled around in his new dungeon chamber. Blood tasted bitter on his tongue but he swallowed nonetheless, because he wasn't sure when – and if for that matter – he would get something to drink again.
He was on the verge of drifting off to some restless slumber when he heard the door to his cell creak open. Even if he'd had the strength to open his eyes again, he wouldn't have done it. He felt, even through his closed lids, how rays of bright light flittered in – and in his condition, everything more intense than pitch dark was considered bright.
Light foot steps were drawing closer to him, and Snape braced himself mentally for the next bout of torture. He didn't even try to work out who his tormentor was because, honestly, it didn't really matter to him when he was finally left alone, bruised and battered after another couple of hours. The dark always welcomed him, and somehow, Snape returned that favour.
However, the expected torture never came.
"Hey," a voice whispered very lowly, and there were soft fingers touching his forehead while the other hand held a cup of something that smelled precariously like water to his parched lips. "Drink. Quickly."
Maybe it was poison, Snape didn't care. He opened his eyes a fraction, gazing intently into Draco's grey orbs. Then he opened his mouth, feeling the cool trickle of refreshing liquid run down his sore throat, and even if it were poison, it couldn't lead to a death more painful than six days worth of torture.
Mere seconds after Snape had swallowed the last drop of the drink, his insides began to burn like there was a fire raging through him. The burning sensation spread throughout his whole body, and Snape gasped in pain, nearly choking on another few drops of blood leaking from his split lip.
"Shh," Draco said, grabbing Snape's chin and neck, and guiding his head back into a position that left his throat arched and defenceless. "Easy, Professor. Just breathe slowly. The burning will soon be over." He shot a quick glance towards the entrance, sighing softly.
And indeed, slowly the burning dissipated, and Snape remembered that not only Veritaserum looked and tasted just like water, but a very efficient healing potion, as well. He gasped again, his mind unable to process the incoming data, and he felt how Draco's soft fingers wiped away the sweat – or was it blood? – from his face.
"Listen," Draco said urgently, turning so that Snape could see his face, "I don't have much time; neither do you, by the way." He smirked again but this time, Snape registered with some relief that there was nothing sinister in his eyes. "Harry's going to get you soon. I must not be here when he arrives otherwise my position would be-" He stopped abruptly, eyes flashing.
"Doesn't matter," he growled, helping Snape into a sitting position. "All that matters is that you're fit enough to Apparate with Harry, all right?"
"Not even Potter is foolish enough to try a stunt like that," Snape said, keeping his eyes guarded. Even if Draco had administered a healing potion to him, that didn't mean he didn't have an ulterior motive – bringing Snape's hopes up before he squished them, for example. "And I don't believe I'm capable of Apparating on my own – considering there are anti-Disapparation wards all around. Nice try, Draco," there was a bitter note in his voice, "but it's not going to work twice."
Draco glanced to the side, clenching his fists. "You don't understand," he muttered. "I- I had to-" he made an angry noise and whispered furiously, "I'm not supposed to tell you any of this! I'm not even supposed to-"
"You aren't supposed to what?"
"We don't have much time," Draco said, ignoring the question and bestowing his sincerest look upon his former Potions master. "I can't tell you more. And it isn't a trick or anything. I'm-" he swallowed, "I'm sorry. It was the only way and I didn't know-"
Snape frowned. He had never before seen his charge so distressed. What was going on here?
"I swear I didn't know!" Draco said, choking on a few words. "I thought you knew ..."
"Draco?" asked Snape, concern now showing clearly on his face as he reached out with one hand to touch the boy's shoulder. "What are you talking about?"
But the boy had everything back under control again. "We don't have much time left," he said quickly as if he were under a great pressure. "I'm supposed to accompany the Dark Lord," (Snape flinched at the name,) "which is really very fortunate because it means an unquestionable alibi. Harry's going to arrive in the next hour, he's got the coordinates and some Weasley taught him how to break wards. So don't worry about not being able to Apparate out of here, Professor."
Snape's hand held Draco back, though his grip was still relatively weak. Draco sighed. "Harry will tell you everything," he said, not meeting the man's eyes. "He will bring you to a remote town in the east of Ireland and then he'll-"
"You're making no sense, Draco," Snape interjected confusedly. "What am I to do in Ireland? And why should I not-"
"I cannot tell you more," Draco whispered, freeing himself of Snape's hold and getting to his feet.
"Don't act like a bloody house-elf!" Snape snapped. "Your master – or supposed master - I've momentarily lost my overall view – is nowhere in sight! And he can't hear you, otherwise you wouldn't try to help me escape!"
Draco started trembling, though he tried hard to hide it. "I can't- I already said too much- You have no idea!" he stuttered, quickly stumbling to the door. "Harry will tell you everything you need to know! I'm already in too deep!"
Then he was gone, leaving a puzzled Snape behind.
---
"Professor?" a whisper ripped him out of his doze. Snape hadn't known how tired he was, but now, after his formerly constant pains had almost entirely dissipated, he had not been able to resist as sleep beckoned him.
Snape opened one bleary eye and frowned. What or who had woken him up? There was nothing-
There was something in the air, a movement, slick like water, and then Potter was kneeling beside him, holding his blasted Invisibility Cloak in one hand. He looked like always: way too reckless to be comforting. He hadn't even changed his school robes.
"Are you alright, Professor?" Potter asked, and Snape shot him an annoyed glare to shut him up – which he didn't, as always. "I've got some potions if you ..." he trailed off, rummaging in one of his pockets. Then he pulled out a vial – one which was faintly familiar to Snape but he didn't comment on it – unstoppered it and held it to the man's lips.
Snape drank the potion quietly, feeling better instantly. His home-made potions were far better than anything Draco could get his hands on, after all. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat up, repressing a groan; his muscles were still stiff from too little usage in the last week, but apart from that, he didn't feel like he had been tortured at all.
"Are you ready?" Potter asked, moving as if to help him stand up, though in the last moment he thought better of it. "We've got to hurry."
Snape rolled his eyes at this. Was it a new theme? 'We've got to hurry!' Nevertheless, he scrambled to his feet, less gracefully than he would have liked but Potter didn't seem to mind - or expect anything else for that matter.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Snape asked, because he hadn't been absolutely convinced that the brat would come for real. But this was Potter, beyond doubt, for the boy had been sheltered in Hogwarts for the last months, and Polyjuice Potion had to be made with fresh body parts. Moreover, Voldemort had been no different in his last torture session, nothing that could lead Snape to the assumption that the Dark Lord had captured Potter.
The brat flinched, clearly not having anticipated the question. He shot Snape a short look, frowning, before he answered, "I'm here to get you. W-we can't leave you here to die, can we?"
"Don't expect any points for this action."
Potter averted his gaze, causing Snape to frown.
"Potter," said Snape slowly, but the brat only shook his head and set to create a temporal hole in the wards so they could Apparate out. The Potions master watched quietly, not wanting to interrupt his concentration, or they might end up being trapped.
"That's it," Potter gasped after a few minutes, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He shot a grin at the dungeon's other occupant. "You didn't believe I could do it, right?"
"If there had been anti-Apparition wards as well, I would have been worried," Snape said dryly. He doubted that Potter would have been able to come near enough the castle to break through the wards to come in.
Potter's grin faltered. "Shall we now? I have to be back at- I don't have much time."
"What is it about people not being able to talk in full sentences?" Snape snapped. "And don't you dare start about not being able to tell for I refuse to stay oblivious to the on-goings around me!"
"I'll tell you as soon as we're-"
"-in Ireland?" Snape asked. "Why?"
"I'll tell you as soon as we're there, I swear, but now we don't have the time!" Potter begged urgently, and Snape closed his eyes in annoyance.
"Very well."
Potter sighed in relief, grabbing Snape's arm, and then they Disapparated out of sight.
---
Snape found himself in front of a small cottage, which was located amidst a forest. Remote was definitely not an exaggeration.
"Let's get inside," Potter said, his eyes darting nervous glances around as if expecting to be attacked any second. He opened the wooden door to the cottage with a whispered spell, pushing it open and entering quickly.
Snape followed after a moment. That was it. If the brat wasn't going to kill him now, he could be fairly certain that he was rescued. He stepped over the threshold, closing the door firmly behind him. He turned around, finding himself in the centre of a living room full of plebeian furnishings, desk, couch, armchairs, shelves with rows of books. Snape frowned. He didn't intend on staying long.
"Professor?" Potter said, drawing his attention. Then he threw a small stick in his direction, which turned out to be a wand.
Snape caught it deftly, surveying it. He gave a quick swish; it didn't feel like his own wand – which had been burned to ashes – but it would do for a while, before he could go to Diagon Alley and buy a new one.
Potter drew a deep breath. "Okay," he muttered. "I don't really know where I should begin ..." he trailed off, turning around and sitting down on the couch. He threaded his fingers, looking anywhere but at Snape.
"Just spit it out and get it over with," the Potions master growled. "I'd really like to return to my own chambers," (Potter cringed,) "as I'm sure Dumbledore," (Potter cringed again, more violently this time,) "may not be able to cope with all the responsibility ..." Snape trailed off, sighing softly. Even if he didn't look forward to teaching again after his incarceration, returning to Hogwarts, his one safe haven, still meant to return to reality.
"I don't believe you will ..." Potter clenched his fists, looking up abruptly, and Snape was surprised to see angry tears in the teen's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry- I can't believe- I didn't know-"
"Didn't we all?"
"Can I tell you now what I've been trying to tell?" Potter snapped.
"Please, do go on, and don't hurry!"
"I do try, you know? But this is not easy and neither are you helping any!"
"Very well," Snape barked, turning around and striding back to the door. "I'll just leave-"
"You can't return to Hogwarts!" Potter cried. "It's not safe!"
Snape stilled, one hand still on the doorknob. He half turned around, regarding Potter with a blank face. "What?"
"Hogwarts is not safe," Potter repeated. "Not for you."
Snape's eyes strayed to the brat's robe. "But it is for you, eh?"
"Safer for me than for you." Potter lifted his chin. "Please, Professor, sit down. I'll tell you everything I know."
Snape didn't know what compelled him to comply with the Boy-Who-Lived's request, but he did, heading for the single armchair. He sat down slowly, quirking one brow.
"It was planned, down to the last detail," Potter said in a blank voice. "I had no idea what was going on – like you – only Draco," the boy's cheeks reddened slightly, "he was supposed to act the way he did ... He changed characters from one day to the next, like a sloughing off snake, and I was confused and ..."
Snape frowned faintly but chose not to interrupt Potter. Not that he was that interested in the brat's love life – Merlin forbid! – he feared that he would, once interrupted, take another lifetime to start again.
"He broke it off with me," he went on in a rush, "and I was so angry, well, you were present ... I didn't care for anything then. How could Draco call Voldemort the Dark Lord? I couldn't comprehend it and ... When he killed the griffin I thought he was lost for good, but I tried to talk to him again and again. He didn't even listen to me, he just hexed me on first sight, earning himself one detention after the other and plenty audiences with Dumbledore ..."
"I don't really see how this is of any importance here," Snape said, going against his own resolve.
"I didn't either, believe me." Potter smiled sadly. "But after you were captured and I discovered that it had been Draco who betrayed you ... Suddenly, it all made perfectly sense. I was not supposed to rescue you."
"Of course, you were not supposed to rescue me," Snape snapped. How stupid and conceited could the boy be? "That's Aurors' work, not schoolboys' with egos too big for their narrow shoulders!"
Potter averted his gaze, blinking rapidly. "Draco contacted me the day before yesterday," he said softly. "He told me everything, you know, everything ... I couldn't believe him at first. It turned out he was right, though, as you see."
"I don't see anything," Snape growled. "And I'm starting to regret my decision to stay-"
"Your position as a spy was not secure, was it?" Potter interrupted. "Voldemort was getting suspicious again. You don't need to deny it, I saw what he was doing to you ..." He rubbed at his scar. "Voldemort would never have rebuilt his trust in you completely. That's the reason why you had to be," Potter swallowed, his green eyes glistering strangely as he held Snape's gaze, "replaced – and disposed of."
Snape leapt to his feet in a flash. "What are you babbling about, you idiot? Is this some kind of prank? Are you trying to impress your dead father by following in his footsteps?"
Potter only flinched shortly at the reference to his father but otherwise kept very still. "I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his head.
Snape snorted, angrily making his way over to the door again. "Soon, you'll be even more sorry, rest assured," he snarled.
"You can't return to Hogwarts," Potter said softly. "He will kill you himself. You're a risk now. Draco would have been suspected as a spy immediately if he had tried to help you, so he had to wait till he had a secure alibi."
"You are still talking in riddles. Who is that mysterious 'he' who is going to kill me?" Snape asked dubiously. "Please, do tell me, Potter, I'm dying to know."
"Albus Dumbledore."
-End-
A/N: Livejournal entry 13.12.04
