Authors Notes: This Fic is dark- in more ways that one. It involves deep angst, harsh language, suicidal themes, alcohol and drug use, violence, disturbing content and a (non-explicit, non-graphic) incident of non-consensual intercourse (I.e., rape.) It also involves Slash.
I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. It's been almost eleven days, I know, but school's going to end soon, I have to study for finals, and after that's vacation, and I feel I owe you all something. The next may take a while. Again, my apologies.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places or plots from J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.
(separating bar)
The library was, thankfully, not quiet.
Madam Pince, suffering from some strange ailment, had taken to the Hospital Wing, and her replacement, Madam Thornbuckle, was, to some level, deaf.
With the soft rumble of giggling, books slamming against tables, gum smacking, and aimless chatter, everyone was distracted enough to not notice when a Gryffindor and a Slytherin snuck around to the study tables in the corner- and that they were carrying several books from the Restricted Section.
Although excited at first, Harry found, after several hours of research, that not only had they found nothing at all connected in any way to Draco's ability, but that books from the Restricted section could be just as dull as any other book in the library. He could tell, by the glazed look, that Draco was feeling the same.
"Nothing," he whispered, closing the last book and setting it on the stack. Draco did the same.
"You wanna take a break?" Draco asked, stretching his arms over his head. "Hungry?"
"A little." he admitted, leaning back and popping his neck. "I'd rather wait until dinner, though."
Draco nodded, leaning forward and resting his head on his hands. He shifted restlessly and opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again, his teeth clicking audibly.
"Hmm?" Harry asked, focusing his attention on him.
"It's… nothing, I guess. I suppose I'm just thankful."
"For your-"
"No." he interrupted. "Not for that. That's a curse." his voice was cold, but his expression faded as he paused. "I'm thankful to have someone who… listens."
Harry nodded, understanding. He knew the feeling.
(separating bar)
"Finally, you've arrived, Severus."
His voice was, if possible, colder than usual. Severus glanced at Lucius Malfoy, keeping his face passive, despite the mask. He turned to the front of the room and waited.
To any ignorant observer, the sight of twelve men in robes and masks, looking toward the wall at a tall oak door, might have seemed strange. The situation was all too familiar for Severus Snape, however.
They had only been called to this place a few times before. Once when a junior death eater had refused to cooperate, again when Voldemort had learned of the prophecy, and the last occasion had been the night after the Triwizard tournament.
Severus caught himself trembling, and couldn't quite place why. Something didn't feel right. There was a tension in the air, a terror- unspoken, but it's presence was no less smothering.
The seconds turned into minutes, which grew slowly into hours. Someone in the back- Wormtail, no doubt- was squirming impatiently, eager for something to happen. Someone in the room was hoping for just the opposite- Severus could feel the thought, but had no idea who it's originator was. Perhaps it's me?
Obviously not the only one lost in thought, Severus felt someone jump when the door was finally opened. An unnamed Death Eater held the door open for their Lord, closing it quietly and fleeing when the Dark Lord dismissed him with the wave of a hand.
He was silent a few moments more, gathering in the crowd with his eyes. As he moved to the tall, velvet chair that sat against the wall, the fell to their knees in unison. His expression was one of ironic amusement.
"Lucius," he said smoothly, his voice high. No one dared laugh; aside from that, the situation was far too nerve-rendering for anyone to think along the lines of humor. "Have there been any developments?"
"No, my Lord; everything is proceeding as you said it should." Lucius was right behind him.
The Dark Lord nodded in acknowledgement, turning to the figure beside Lucius. "Lucifius."
"Yes, my Lord?" Lucifius' tone was one of indifferent obedience.
"You have already proven your loyalty to me, have you not?"
"Yes, my Lord, I have."
So that's what this is about, Severus thought, his pulse quickening. Voldemort's questioning our loyalties…
"Would you be willing to prove it again?"
"Of course, my Lord." he said, his voice remaining tranquil.
"Rise and come forward."
A ripple ran through the group; everyone knew there was more to this than what seemed. But no one seemed to know what. Watching Lucifius stand before the Dark Lord, a sudden feeling of paralyzing fear came over Severus.
No, Severus' mind screamed before he couldn't stop himself. He quickly looped together thoughts of fear- fear for his master's quest- and suspicion… he quickly managed to make it look as though he suspected Lucifius of foul play.
"Prove yourself," Voldemort hissed. "By taking him out."
Immediately, the names Dumbledore or Potter came to mind, but Severus was thoroughly shocked when Lucifius whipped around, brandishing his wand toward the others, the glaze of adrenaline in his eyes.
His wand was pointed, once again, at Severus.
"Corpus Incarcerous!"
At once, chains were flung from the tip of his wand, striking Severus harshly in across the chest and stomach, throwing him against the wall. Feeling his head hit and watching his vision black out, he hoped vaguely that he'd been knocked out.
After a muttered incantation, however, his vision returned to normal. He watched, trying to even his breathing as the others surrounded him, removing their masks and pulling back their hoods. His knew the eager look on Lucius' face, and before he could stop himself, he shuddered.
Derisive laughter filled the room. He tried to close his eyes, but as soon as he had, a fierce kick to the groin reopened them.
Swallowing, he winced as he felt tears run down his face, shrieking their protest at such an event. He wasn't sure who had kicked him.
Voldemort's tall figure was behind the group of Death Eaters, watching, a cold smirk on the creature's face. As the Death Eaters calmed themselves enough and kneeled, he began to speak.
"Severus Snape," Voldemort hissed, his voice one of amusement. "It seems our suspicions about you were correct."
"Traitor!" someone screamed. The others hissed in agreement.
Severus knew by this point that resistance was pointless, but his mind was racing. He had run this scenario through his head before. But he couldn't remember…
A sharp pain in his stomach brought him back to reality. Breathless, he leaned forward, trying and failing to speak. What would he say? Would he beg?
He said nothing and watched. Lucius Malfoy had pulled out his wand, and was nodding feverishly and another Death Eater, who was miming a wand movement. The sound of his pulse throbbed in his ears; aside from that, he could hear nothing.
Lucius touched the tip of his wand to Severus' stomach, gathering his breath. He spoke an incantation; Severus didn't hear it, but he knew exactly what it was.
He screamed as the skin of his abdomen split, peeling itself back and out of the way. The others watched his face, which he had thrown back in pain. He felt the magic from Lucius' wand lifting the organs from his stomach, and he wondered how the hell he could still be alive. It shouldn't be, he shouldn't be, were they going to kill him, God he hoped they were…
Jesus Christ, this isn't possible. He watched as his inner organs- what the hell was that, his small intestine?- was lifted and draped into the air, making a strange, curvy pattern.
They were roaring with laughter. Someone else- he couldn't tell who- stepped forward and waved his wand, and the bloody piece lowered and gathered, balling itself into the shape of some kind of flower.
His vision was red. He was screaming- he could tell by the pain in his throat- and he couldn't breath. The pain was unlike anything he had every experienced, and he had been through the Cruciatus plenty of times in his life.
"What's wrong?" he heard someone taunt. The man's- was it a man?- voice was nothing but a low rumble in Severus' ears.
Unaware of anything, Severus felt his chest strain as he gathered another lungful of air, and, summoning the last bits of his strength, he screamed one name into the slowly enveloping darkness...