Erroris of Vestri Mores

By Shadow Ballad

A/N: Once again, thanks to those who reviewed; love ya so much! For those who haven't…please review? This chapter will take full advantage of the rating…thus far nothing really merits the T rating the story has, but that all changes here. It's pretty violent and graphic, so if you don't like bloody, don't read. Hope you like. Anyway, on to chapter 3!

Chapter Three: Blood and Bone

It was indeed Theodore Gershwin holding him at wand point in his own bathroom. Had Severus not been so incredibly furious and startled, he might have found the situation faintly amusing. Given the circumstances, however, it was the last thing on his mind.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in here?" he exclaimed in outrage, attempting to keep a slight tremor out of his voice as he gazed at the image in the mirror. The intruder said nothing, merely gazing back at the Potions Master with an expressionless mask.

Severus turned sharply on his heel to face Gershwin, his wand in hand and ready to curse him if he so much as blinked. That, however, did not seem likely, as the other's eyes seemed oddly dead and void of life. He opened his mouth to hex Gershwin anyway, but was beaten to the task as the mousy-haired man stated emotionlessly, "Expelliarmus." Severus's wand popped out of his hand and went neatly into Gershwin's extended left. Mouth working furiously at having been so easily disarmed, the man in black decided that there was nothing for it but to attack with flying fists.

Just as Gershwin opened his mouth – probably to hex Severus – the professor charged at him, knocking Gershwin over in a perfect rugby tackle and sending both men sprawling into the bedroom. Gershwin clawed savagely at Severus's face, tearing at the pale skin with his fingernails. Severus responded by dousing the man in a vicious storm of punches and kicks, not caring where his attacks landed as long as they caused Gershwin severe pain. A loud CRACK interrupted the hisses and gasps of the fight as a well-aimed fist smashed Gershwin's nose, spattering both opponents in hot, sticky blood.

As though impervious to pain, Severus's opponent launched himself from the floor, ramming his elbow into Snape's ribs. A sharp pain like a thousand knives ripped through the professor's side. In just the one moment it took for Severus to gasp in shock, Gershwin was on top of him, pounding his fists into the dark man's face and kicking and kneeing him in the stomach.

"You bastard!" Severus choked out, noticing with slight trepidation the blood colouring his lips. As though one rib hadn't been bruised and his face wasn't a bloody mass of cut flesh, the Potions Master delivered a sharp uppercut that sent Gershwin into a table. His head struck the edge nastily, leaving a gory wound near his temple and spattering the stone floor with a spray of blood.

Swift as lightning Gershwin returned the favour. Severus managed to feel slightly incredulous before a booted foot forcefully connected with his groin. Gasping as white-hot pain coursed through his body, the Potions Master fell to the ground in time for Gershwin to kick him in the chest.

Coughing and spluttering, Severus landed harshly on his back, his head smashing into the stone, stunning him. He could feel the wet trickle as blood oozed around him, but another bone-grinding pain of several broken ribs kept him from focusing on the wound. Gershwin seemed to have decided that Severus was not hurt enough and took it on himself to kick the downed man's ribs as if he was a football.

Severus desperately tried to ignore the metallic taste of blood on his tongue and focus on beating off Gershwin, but his body could no longer accept the abuse. His knees buckled as he attempted to stand up, sending him sprawling to the floor. His forehead bounced painfully as it met with the stone, but that was the least of his problems. A large hand knotted an excruciating grip in his hair, jerking his head up roughly to meet a bloodied fist. Head and hand collided in a spectacular burst of agony and blood.

The professor, now only half-conscious, reached out with a slender hand to ward of the attacks, but the gesture was returned in the form of a thick black boot crushing down on his hand, breaking the delicate fingers and snapping the thin wrist. Severus howled in agony, writhing in the plentiful blood carpeting the floor stones, his vision blurred by severe and unrelenting pain. So deep was his anguish that he failed to notice Gershwin approach him from the left, wand back in his hand.

Muttering an incomprehensible spell in a voice that resembled bone rubbing against bone, Gershwin aimed his wand at the incapacitated Potions Master. Severus saw a flash of dark gold light through the curtain of blood staining his eyes before pain the like he had never felt before came swiftly upon him. One by one he felt the tendons in his shoulders snap, the muscles strain and the bone grind against its socket. Screams of absolute torture ripped from Severus's throat until it was raw as both shoulders simultaneously dislocated themselves, snapping more tendons throughout the process.

Tears of pain leaked out of the black eyes as the professor was lifted from the ground and hung by his wrists from the ceiling. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to lift his head to catch a glimpse of Gershwin. To Severus's disgust, the man stood calmly a meter or so away from his hanging body, blood coating his face and clothes in a crimson scab. Unable to bear the emotionless face staring down at him and the pain it caused, Severus allowed his chin to fall to his chest.

In one swift movement Gershwin had the professor's chin in his hand, forcing the injured man's head back and conjuring a chain and collar to clasp around Severus's neck. Knives of sharp pain shot down his spine, but nothing the Potions Master did lessened the agony.

Black eyes regarded Gershwin, who rubbed a finger along his chin thoughtfully for a few moments as if deciding his next torturous act. A second later he jerked his wand violently, and on top of the bloody gashes, Severus felt the chill night air assailing his skin. He risked a glance down to see his bare, slender chest, purple where the ribs had been broken. More fear than he cared to admit he possessed erupted from the pit of his stomach, clenching his heart and throwing him into a fit of nausea.

Bile stung the back of Severus's throat, but becoming violently ill all over himself drew a sudden second in pressing quandaries as the word "Diffindo!" reached his ears. He had time only to tense his battered muscles before the spell hit.

Waves upon waves of pure agony engulfed the captive professor. He could feel his flesh ripping asunder, bone splintering as it broke and blood running in boiling torrents down his body. His entire torso was stained red by the time Gershwin ended the curse, casting another so that the blood coagulated on his body and encased him completely in a sticky crimson shell.

"Why…?" Severus choked in a broken voice as he hovered between painful consciousness and the blessed relief of darkness.

His attacker merely gazed down at him, showing no emotion on the bloodstained face. Finally, in a voice colder than winter's heart, he said, "To show you the error of your ways." The dead blue eyes bored into him, as though their very gaze could inflict more pain upon the already wrecked body before them. A moment's pause, and he continued. "The Dark Lord is not pleased with you, Snape. You'll remember nothing of me but this warning: return in full loyalty, or return not at all. Death is too good for traitors."

Severus fought to remain conscious, wondering exactly who Gershwin truly was beneath his guise of Defense teacher. "You…bloody…bastard," he rasped with all the strength remaining within him, filling each syllable with pure venom and utmost loathing.

Gershwin didn't blink or respond, except to raise his wand and mutter, "Obliviate."

All memory of Gershwin's role in his predicament vanished from Severus's mind. Before he could look up and see the man standing in his chambers, the overwhelming agony became too great for him to bear, and he slipped into the blessed darkness, welcoming it with open arms.

A/N: Since the two previous chapters were so long, I decided to write a really short one and see what you guys prefer. I also thought that the material should stand alone in its own chapter, as it is the first real step into the story.

BTW, I love Severus, just so you know. Why did I hurt him so badly, you ask? We seem to hurt the ones we love, I answer…and it makes for some damn good angst!

Please tell me what you thought, and let me know if you like short or long chapters better.

Thanks for reading (and reviewing, please)!

Cheers,

Ballad