Chapter 07 - Revelations

Carefully, Albus put the artefact he was holding on the shelf behind his desk. He barred his hands from shaking so he would not spill one drop of the liquid in it, while at the same time he would have liked nothing better than to dash it to pieces. When he turned round to again sit down in his chair, he heard a knocking on the door.

"Yes, please, come in."

The headmaster sighed at the sight he was presented with when his visitor entered the room. It was Remus, as he should have foreseen, and he was looking terrible.

"Please, sit down," Albus invited, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. Remus did as he was told without speaking a word, and he did not look at the headmaster but cast his eyes downward on his hands, which were lying limply in his lap. The old wizard settled down in his own chair, waiting patiently until the other man would speak, although he had no doubt concerning the content of the words he would hear.

"I can't do this any longer." Finally Remus spoke, in a low and tired voice, not averting his eyes from his hands.

"What is it that you cannot do?" the headmaster asked, although he perfectly knew what the younger man meant.

Remus looked up to face him, and while it was no surprise to him, yet Albus was struck by the obvious pain that was flickering in his eyes.

"Snape. Please look for someone else. I… won't meet him again."

For a short moment Albus closed his eyes. The question why things could never work out fine was a futile one. He could not blame Remus, considering the previous events, and yet… he did not want this to end in such a way. Over the last weeks he had watched the developments between the two men with ascending hope. He was sure the two of them could be beneficial to one another, and he knew they both badly needed someone to confide in. Someone they could talk to, someone who would understand. At first thought, it seemed to be rather absurd to believe that Severus, of all people, should match these requirements, but Albus knew his Potions Master better than that. Sometimes he seemed to know him better than Severus knew himself.

'So, what can I do?'

He knew for sure that there was no way to convince Severus to do anything that would bear the slightest danger of tearing down the walls which he had built up around himself so long ago. The events of this evening had only confirmed this knowledge. But Remus… it was different with him. Maybe he should… An idea occurred to him which he at first rejected instantly. He could not betray Severus's trust. And beside that… observing the exhausted, depressed-looking Remus, who now had sunk his head into his hands, he had the feeling it would be unfair to ask from him anything that would burden him even more. But on the other hand…

Albus made a decision. He got up and went to the shelf, then took what he had placed there before and carefully carried it back, putting it down on the desk in front of his chair.

"Remus?" he asked softly.

The other man looked up.

"Remus, I have been informed of what has happened tonight, and I perfectly understand your decision."

Remus sighed with relief, brushing aside the question of how Albus could know. He somehow always knew. Although Remus was firm in his decision, he had been afraid to disappoint the old wizard's confidence. He really would have liked to help him and, even more, Snape in this matter, but he could not face the things that came along with it. He knew it was cowardly and weak of him, and even before himself he was ashamed of it, but he simply was not ready to face the truth. He wanted to forget about tonight as soon as possible.

'Do you know his answer?' No. He did not want to know. And having to deal with Snape would never let him forget.

"As I said," the headmaster repeated, "I understand. But before you go, I would like to ask a last favour of you." He could see the younger man's eyes darken slightly before he answered, and he could not blame him for it.

"What is it?"

"I… would like to show you something. I always hoped I would never have to do this… but now it seems there is no other way out." At these words he could see puzzlement spread across Remus's face. "Please, come here," he beckoned his colleague to sit down in his own chair, and when the younger wizard had done so, pointed at the artefact in front of him.

"A Pensieve?"

"It is mine. But tonight I had lent it to Severus, as I do from time to time. He left about half an hour before you came. He was very… agitated."

'Agitated' was a downright understatement for the Potion Master's condition when he had rushed into his office. Albus had asked no questions, for he knew he would get no answer, and he also knew he would see everything he needed to know. It was their agreement: Severus did not have to talk, but he would let him see everything. It was not enough, but it was the biggest concession the younger man was capable of.

"By the way, this is how I learned about your argument tonight," Albus went on.

"Just a minute!" Remus interrupted. "To get you right: You want me to look into Snape's pensieve? What for? Do you think this will change my decision? And besides that - I don't want to intrude in his personal affairs." How would he feel if someone made a sight-seeing tour in his head? Snape had not become such a good Occlumens for no reason. He would be furious if he ever found out.

"I do not ask you to change your mind," Albus replied calmly. "The only thing I ask you is to watch. I do understand your concern considering Severus's privacy, but I would like you to trust me, this once. After that, I will never mention the subject again."

The younger man shot him a suspicious glance, but then he nodded, very much to Albus's relief. He did not exactly know what would come of this, and, moreover, he felt fairly guilty in revealing things of so personal a nature. Severus would most likely never forgive him if he ever found out. But he had to risk it. He felt things had reached a point where extreme measures were the last resort. And if it had the desired effect, if it would help Severus in the end, he, Albus, would accept any consequences for himself.

'It is for your own good, Severus, I wish you could understand,' he thought sadly before he nodded Remus to begin. Slowly the younger man lowered his head until this face touched the surface of the silvery liquid.

Remus had no idea why Albus wanted him to do this, and he felt more than slightly uneasy to be snooping around in another person's memories without their knowledge, but in the end, he trusted Albus to know what he was doing. There must be a grave reason for him to do this - he was not the type to betray the trust that was bestowed him.

When he plunged his face in Snape's thoughts, the world instantly began spinning, making him feel slightly sick before it came back to focus. Wondering what the old wizard could think to be so important for him to see, Remus stared at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes.

A small black-haired boy, aged about four, was cowering in the corner of a large living room. In the middle of the room Remus saw two figures, the smaller one with the long raven-black hair struggling to break free from the bigger one's grasp. As they turned round he noticed that the small one was a woman. Although her face was screwed with fear and she had a black eye, Remus immediately recognised the similarity with Severus Snape. This woman was his mother, then! And the boy in the corner must be Snape!

"Get out of my way!" Snape's father yelled, as his wife was obviously trying to keep him away from the child. Being beside himself with rage he pushed her away, and she fell, fainting when her head hit the ground.

"Mummy!"

Remus's head snapped back to the boy who was staring at his motionless mother in horror. The man rushed towards his son and grabbed him.

"Don't you ever dare to contradict me again," he roared, violently shaking the frail body.

"I… I'm sorry, D-daddy," the boy whimpered, his eyes blank with fear. "I love you, Daddy!"

The man grunted ungraciously and let go of his son, who fell down to the ground, giving a cry of pain and beginning to sob. Within a second his father was beside him, punching him into the ribs.

"Don't you cry as a baby, you worthless little mutt!" he snarled, eyes flickering with spite, then he turned on his heel and rushed out of the room.

For some endless minutes the boy lay in the corner, obviously not daring to move, trying in vain to stifle his sobs. It made Remus sick to just stand there and watch, but this was the past, and there was nothing he could do as he had to tell himself when the desire to go and comfort the child became almost unbearable.

Mercifully the scene faded, and Remus now found himself standing on a graveyard, watching a coffin being carried towards an empty grave. It was a foggy day, and waft of mist were floating everywhere between the trees and gravestones. When the coffin was let down into the hole, Remus noticed the two figures who were standing beside the grave. He approached them to be able to listen if they spoke and stopped beside Snape, who must be about seven or eight by now. His face was ghastly pale, the eyes red and swollen. Remus could see the muscles twitch under the skin as the boy was struggling for composure. However, when the first scoopful of earth thudded on the coffin, he lost the fight.

"Mum!" he cried out flatly and burst into tears.

Almost faster than Remus could watch it, Snape's father had slapped the boy.

"Do you remember what I told you about crying?" he hissed in a dangerous voice, glaring at Snape from the corners of his eyes.

His son did not look up to him but kept his eyes locked on the grave. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

"Tell me!"

"A Snape…" he had to pause for a moment to repress a sob, "a Snape does not cry, under no circumstances. Neither in… in public, nor in private. Never. It's… weakness, and a Snape does not have weaknesses. Nothing in the world is worth crying over."

"Exactly. Nothing in the world is worth showing weakness. And this," he nodded towards the grave, "is by no means an exception. So, act accordingly! I do not expect you to ever make me proud of you, but at least you could try not to be a complete disgrace to my name!"

There was a short silence during which the deeply pacific Remus would have wished to thump some human feelings in the man with his bare fists if this had been possible.

"Yes, sir," the boy finally replied. He wiped his tears off, and with growing horror Remus could watch a kind of desperate determination spread across his face as he fought back any hint of emotion, his features slowly becoming a childlike resemblance of his father's cold mien. Only the deep, black eyes were not able to lie yet, pain flickering inside them.

Again the scene changed. Remus was standing in what seemed to be a compartment of a train, which soon re recognised as the Hogwarts Express. Looking around, he noticed a boy sitting on a seat by the window, almost hidden in the shadows. Long, black hair was veiling his face, but Remus knew it must be Snape.

Before he could take a closer look at him, the door opened slowly, and the head of another boy appeared, carefully peering into the room. Tentatively, he entered the compartment, a worried expression spreading across his face as he became aware of its occupant. He was scrawny, with light brown hair, his face decorated with several nasty scratches. It was Remus's younger self, as the older man realised in surprise, and he must be eleven years old, according to his appearance and the fact that he was not with his friends, whom from second year on he had always met at the station before the train's departure.

Remus remembered exactly how he had felt at that day, all of a sudden deprived of the security he had obtained from his family as long as he could remember, exposed to the presence of dozens of strangers who he knew would hate him if they should become aware of what he really was. After the train's departure, he had not dared to enter any of the compartments, had merely thrown uncertain glances into them and, noticing their occupants, had quickly backed off every time. Finally, he had reached the last compartment, knowing he had to sit somewhere. And he had ended up sitting with Severus Snape. Strange - Remus had not remembered this fact until now.

"Hi… er… do you mind me sitting here?" young Remus asked in an uncertain voice.

The other boy examined him for some seconds, then shook his head and directed his gaze back to the window. Remus's younger self dragged in his trunk and closed the door behind him. As the trunk was cramming almost the whole space between the seats, he tried to lift it into the luggage rack, but of course it was far too heavy.

After some vain attempts, Snape suddenly spoke. "Wingardium leviosa!" he said, pointing a wand at the trunk, which instantly began hovering. Under the surprised glance of its owner he directed it into the luggage rack and then shoved his wand back into his robes.

"Um… thanks," Remus's younger self murmured.

The other boy merely looked at him, his glance revealing neither hostility nor friendliness. Eventually, young Remus seemed to take heart, and, putting on a smile, he approached the other boy.

"I'm Remus Lupin," he said. "What's your name?"

For a second the other one hesitated, but then he took the offer. "Severus," he answered, returning a very small, very shy smile. "Severus Snape."

The next minutes Remus spent watching the two boys, who by now were sitting on opposed seats by the window, holding a somewhat hesitant conversation. How could he have forgotten, he asked himself? The first other student he had ever talked to had been Snape! The first friendly gesture he had received in this new and frightening world, a smile which had meant so much to him, had come from no one else than Severus Snape! As small a gesture as it had been, it had given him hope that he might be accepted by the other children; it had had a reassuring effect on him, making him almost forget about his nervousness.

He took a closer look on the young Snape, who was just telling the other boy that he had learned the levitating charm from their charms book, as well as a couple of other charms.

"I know it's not allowed," he admitted. "But our house has magical wards, so I knew I wouldn't be detected. And…" he hesitated for a moment before he went on, "I didn't want to be the worst in class."

He nervously brushed a strand of black hair behind his ear. When he did not wear his mask of cold indifference, Remus noticed, he was looking rather self-conscious. And no wonder he was nervous, Remus thought, considering how his father had for years talked him into believing that he was worth nothing. The boy must have felt as unsure as he himself had in meeting other children. Snape's remark about not wanting to be the worst in class, however, made Remus smirk. The boy had been well advanced even in Dark Curses at the beginning of his first year. But then, of what use should it have been, had Snape told young Remus? He must have known how most people thought about the Dark Arts, and, wishing for acceptance, it was certainly wiser not to reveal something like this.

During his musing, the scene on the train had faded away, and now Remus found himself following a flock of first-years, who had just climbed out of the boats in which they had crossed the lake. The big gate of the castle opened and the children were led into the small room in which Minerva McGonagall explained to them the sorting ceremony. When they had moved into the great Hall – Remus had smiled amusedly at the children's astonished and admiring glances and remarks at the tonight stormy grey ceiling - he looked around, searching for Snape.

After he had watched "Black, Sirius" being sorted into Gryffindor - the hat had barely touched his head before shouting the name of his house - he noticed Snape and his younger self between the other students, standing close together and both looking rather nervously at the chair with the sorting hat.

"What do you reckon, where will you be?" he heard his younger self ask.

"I don't know," Snape replied, his face deadpan. "My father was in Slytherin, and he expects me to be sorted there, too." Barely audible, so that only the older Remus could hear it, he muttered "But I'm sure I'll not. I'll disappoint him again."

Meanwhile, the sorting had proceeded to "Giles, Timothy", and young Remus was becoming more nervous with every name.

'What if the hat knows what I am? What if it tells everyone in here and says there is no house for beasts like me?' Those and other discouraging thoughts had whirled in his mind, Remus remembered, making his heart hammer in his throat wildly.

And then, in the midst of nervousness and uncertainty, two small hands found each other, unnoticed by the surrounding children, providing reassurance and courage to one another. Remus could watch a small smile curl his younger self's lips, and Snape's mien became a little more relaxed. Not looking at each other but keeping their gaze locked at the sorting, the two boys waited, hands intertwined, silently thankful for the other one's presence.

'How could I just forget about all this?' Remus wondered. All he had remembered of his Sorting was the overwhelming excitement and anxiety. But before he had time to think about it more deeply, the Great Hall had was replaced by an empty corridor, in which Remus could hear the sound of approaching steps before he saw a student turn the corner on the right. When the boy came closer, he noticed that it was Snape, who was wearing his right arm in a cast.

'Do you remember third year, when I broke my arm and ribs?' he heard his colleague's voice ask in his head.

'No, not this please,' Remus inwardly begged, knowing it must have something to do with Sirius. Still there was a part of his mind that refused to believe the Potions Master had told the truth about what had happened. He was so absorbed in thought that he only noticed the second boy's presence when he spoke.

"Now, Snivellus, nice accessory that you are wearing," Sirius drawled, smirking at his fellow student. "Or wait… no, no I was wrong. It doesn't become you at all. Makes you look even more like a freak."

Remus could watch the young Slytherin struggle for self-control, but after some moments hate and, moreover, pain spread across his face.

"Why, Black?" he demanded, his voice trembling with repressed emotion. "Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you? There must be a reason!"

"Come on, Snivellus. Can you really be that thick?"

"Do not call me… that!"

"Oh, but isn't it true?" Sirius flouted. "Two weeks ago, when you were playing with your little Slytherin friends, the name seemed to fit you so very well. I can't think of a better one. By the way, I really enjoyed the show. Will there be an encore someday? You can bet I don't want to miss it."

"Drop it, Black," Snape ground out between gritted teeth. "Just answer my question!"

"Fine, if it's that important to you," the Gryffindor replied, shrugging. "I don't hate you. That would do you too much undeserved honour. And there's no reason - beside the fact that you're existing. Isn't that enough?" And with these words he stalked away, leaving behind a dumbfounded Snape and an at least equally struck Remus.

'When you were playing with your little Slytherin friends… I really enjoyed the show…'

"So it's true… it's really true," Remus whispered desperately. Sudden anger at Albus stirred inside him. Had he not come to him because he did not want to have to deal with this, because he was longing for oblivion? Albus had known, and yet he had made him face this! For a moment he was tempted to just pull his head out of the Pensieve and leave the headmaster's office, but the sight his eyes now were presented with made him forget about his own distress immediately.

He was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, looking at a scene he had thought of not too long ago this very evening: Sixteen-year-old Severus Snape, appearing naked under his transparent clothes, obviously frozen with shock and embarrassment. When Remus turned to the right, he could watch Sirius, who had come out of hiding, his face an unbearable mask of smugness. And down the Gryffindor table he saw James and his younger self, the former just now bursting out into broad laughter, the latter seeming horrified at the events.

Snape had regained the ability of moving and stormed out of the door, and, different from his younger self, who had – as Remus now had to admit – not had the courage to do what his conscience had told him and follow his humiliated fellow student, Remus hurried through the corridors to keep up with the Slytherin.

Having arrived at his dorm, Snape collapsed on his bed, but immediately he started up again, hectically fiddling around with his clothes to get them off as quickly as possible. When finally he had managed to undress and had put on a pyjama, he sat down on his bed, his knees risen to his chest, arms clasped tightly around his legs. Remus could see that he was frantically trying to blink the tears away which had risen into his eyes.

"A Snape… does… not… cry," the teen murmured hoarsely, beginning to softly rock himself back and forth. "Nothing… in the world… is worth… crying for."

Remus could feel a hot lump of sympathy and fury form in his chest, burning like molten metal. It arouse in him the desire to gather the boy in his arms and tell him that he was allowed to cry, that the humiliation he had had to suffer indeed was worth crying, that he himself was worth it – and that Sirius was an egomaniacal, smug imbecile who was not able to look beyond his own nose. At this moment he did not know what shocked him more – the sight of Snape, who was still rocking back and forth, repeating "A Snape does not cry" again and again in the rhythm of his movement like some kind of invocation, talking himself into ignoring his feelings and needs like his father had taught him, or the way he, Remus, was thinking of his beloved Sirius right now.

For what seemed to be hours he kept watching the raven-haired teen, who was staring fixedly into space from jaded eyes, his face more and more turning into a mask of callousness as he seemed to gradually withdraw from his own emotions. When finally weariness overcame him, Snape sank down on his bed and fell asleep, still hugging himself tightly.

Some moments later Remus found himself watching several quickly changing episodes at different large houses, all of them having in common the presence of a tall, young man with long, shimmering, white-blond hair and cold silver eyes.

"Lucius Malfoy!"

What could he have to do with this? Remus wondered, observing the interaction between the two young men, who sometimes were alone and sometimes accompanied by several others. It was quite obvious that Snape seemed to admire the older blond, judging from the glances he regularly shot him, and the longer Remus watched, the more he wondered if it was not more than just admiration. In Malfoy's presence Snape's mask of languidness visibly crumbled - although, as Remus noticed, the teen tried to hide it - and he looked self-conscious and eager to please the blond.

"Join us, Severus," Malfoy's voice startled him from his pondering. "The Dark Lord rewards his servants with great power. The power to retaliate upon those who have wronged them."

Remus could watch a spark flare up in Snape's eyes at these words.

"You will see, it pays well," Malfoy went on. "I'll return tomorrow to receive your answer. Think about it."

When the blond had left, Snape flopped into a chair. "They want me to join them," he murmured incredulously. "They actually want me. He wants me."

'They want me. He wants me.' Remus remembered himself thinking the very same when he had become friends with James, Sirius and Peter. And when he and Sirius had become more…

Snape had found acceptance at last. But with whom… it was an evidence of incapacity on the light side that the ones who had given him the feeling of being wanted and accepted were no one but Death Eaters. Of course, everyone should have realised that not all of those who had joined Voldemort's forces had simply done it out of hunger for power, or because they were "evil" persons, like the largest part of the public seemed to believe. But it was so much easier to not think about it, so convenient.

Still musing about these revelations, Remus noticed Snape's room change into a smaller one, and now he saw Snape, who must be about twenty by now, standing in front of the fire place while Malfoy was looking out of the window.

"Nice day," the blond said in a conversational tone. "Perfect weather for a little hunting trip. Are you in?"

Remus winced. He perfectly could imagine what prey Malfoy and his companions would be after. Muggles and Muggle-born wizards. 'Inferior creatures'. The mere thought of it made him feel sick.

"Lucius," he heard Snape answer, "I… can we talk?" Snape's vocal tone made Remus take a sharp look at the raven-haired young man. He seemed to be extremely insecure, wringing his hands nervously, his gaze oscillating between the sight of Malfoy's back and the stone floor at his feet.

"About what?" came the rather disinterested reply.

"Well, I… I'm not sure how to put it, but… it's really important to me, you see," Snape stuttered, struggling to find the right words. "We… we have known each other for so long now and… and I have… I just want you to know that I always, for the last years... wanted it to be more…" he trailed off and cast his eyes downward, waiting for the other man to speak. When after some minutes the blonde had not answered yet, Snape raised his head. "Lucius," he whispered, his voice trembling ever so slightly, "I… love you."

Thick silence spread across the room. It lasted for some seconds, and then Remus could hear a small sound, which was becoming louder with every instant. At first he could not really sort it, but when the blond finally turned round, revealing a sneering expression on his face that took Remus's breath away, he realised what it was: Malfoy was laughing.

Snape seemed paralysed. Malfoy went on laughing. Remus doubted the sanity of the universe.

Finally, the blond had calmed down enough to speak. "Oh, isn't that cute," he scoffed. "You love me! Oh, you have no idea how flattered I'm feeling! Or… no, I don't. In fact, I'm rather disgusted."

Snape gaped at the man in front of him, obviously having trouble to realise what he had heard. "But… I mean," he stuttered, "I didn't expect you to… to love me in return, being married with Narcissa, but… you are my friend… I thought you would understand…"

"Friend?" Malfoy cut him off, visibly amused by the younger man's dismay. "Who ever said we were friends?"

Unable to speak, Snape merely stared at him.

"And even love!" Malfoy sneered. "You really overreach yourself. What makes you think you were worthy of anyone's love?"

Pure, unadulterated horror spread across Snape's face. This was enough to make even his usual mask of indifference completely fall apart.

"Moreover, friendship and love are for the weak. Are you weak, Severus? Not that it takes me by surprise -I always knew that some day you would come up with something pathetic like this." Malfoy slowly walked towards the door, and, having reached it, shot Snape a last sneering glance. "Friendship and love, those are things you never had and never will have. You have been useful, Severus. Nothing more." And with this he was gone.

For some moments Snape stood petrified with horror, then he stumbled over to his bed with shaky steps and sat down on it. Remus, who had followed him, noticed that his breath was coming in heavy, ragged gasps which he in vain tried to steady. Again Remus could watch the young man wrap his arms around himself, and again he began rocking, whispering "A Snape does not cry" over and over again. But this time he could not stop the tears from falling, no matter how hard he tried, and finally he sank down, crying frantically, still sobbing "A Snape does not cry" like a last desperate and vain attempt to meet the demands life had made on him.

Having to witness all this made Remus's heart clutching with sympathy. "Severus… I'm so sorry…" he breathed, desperately wishing to be able to soothe the young wizard's anguish. But of course, this was impossible, and the hand with which he unconsciously had reached out to gently touch the crying man slid through his shoulder unopposedly. He had to watch helplessly as Severus curled up to a tight ball and went on crying, until after far too long a time the heartbreaking sobs slowly subsided and Remus realised that the young man had finally wept himself to sleep.

During this time it was that he first noticed how very thin Severus was. He seemed so fragile and young, almost like a child… It was a mystery to Remus how he already could have suffered that much without breaking down completely.

'I only hope that's all now,' Remus thought, not believing there could be anything worse to discover. The idea there should be even more things Severus needed to forget about did not appeal to him at all. But this hope was dashed when he noticed that the light that was coming from the window had changed. It must have been about noon before, now it was late afternoon, and Remus knew he would see more.

'What next?' he asked himself, when suddenly the door was flung open and several figures entered the room, all of whom were dressed in black robes and masks which covered their faces so they would not be identified. But why were they all capped and gowned? Snape was one of them, wasn't he? He knew them anyway. Remus was confused.

His puzzlement even increased when he watched two of them approach the bed and roughly catch hold of the still sleeping young man.

"Wake up, Severus," one of them sneered. "It's show time!"

"What…" the addressed murmured, still drowsy and visibly confused at the sight he was presented with. But before he could say anything more a third figure had stepped in front of him and now brutally slapped him in the face. The mere force of the blow made Severus's head tilt sideways, and when he looked up again, black eyes met cold grey ones.

"Malfoy!" Remus whispered, who had recognised the young aristocrat from his long, blond hair that was tied up to a braid.

"Our hunting trip was not crowned with success," the blond hissed in a portentous voice. "But here we have someone who will serve as booties as well."

"Lucius," Severus stuttered, "what… what do you mean?"

"Well, Severus," Malfoy said, "we'll play a very nice little game. Regard it as your comeuppance for your hubris some hours ago." With these words he beckoned the others, who were still holding the raven-haired man, to come with him, and stalked out of the room.

Remus watched Severus being dragged through the room and out of the door, followed by the remaining masked figures. He followed them through corridors and down several stairs until at last, they arrived at a large windowless dungeon where Severus was rudely thrown to the ground. He immediately tried to jump up again, but two hooded figures - much stronger than the slender young man - quickly lunged at him and held him down. Another of their companions grabbed some iron chains which were lying on the ground and tied him up with them.

"Lucius!" Severus's eyes were blank with fear as looked around hysterically for the blond. "Stop it!" He got no answer. "You… you can't really… I mean… damn, I trusted you," he whispered desperately.

"Now, that's your problem, isn't it?" came the cold reply. "The potion!" Malfoy ordered, and one of the others knelt down beside Severus, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and forcing him to swallow a liquid from a vial he suddenly had produced from somewhere.

"Since I'm the one who had to bear the insult, it's only fair that I should be the one who is first," Malfoy now went on. "Crucio!" he said icily, pointing his wand at the chained man on the ground.

Remus gaped as Severus was writhing with pain, his head again and again violently thudding on the stone floor.

"It's your turn," the blond then addressed his companions, a smirk playing on his lips. "Anything goes."

After some time Remus closed his eyes, unable to stand to the sight of Severus being hexed again and again, his limbs jerking uncontrollably, his face a grimace of mere agony. But however hard he tried, he could not blind out the screams and the laughter the dungeon was resounding with. Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the screams gave way to a weak whimper, and when Remus opened his eyes he was presented with the sight of Severus, who was trembling all over, eyes closed, the floor beneath his head daubed with blood.

"My, my, Severus, that's pathetic," Malfoy drawled. "The fun hasn't even really begun, and yet you are whining like a thrashed mutt. I'm rather disappointed with you."

'Not even begun?' Remus thought incredulously. Wasn't this terrible enough? What else could they have planned? He did not want to imagine.

"Leave us alone!" Malfoy now ordered.

When the others had gone, only the blond and Severus were left, the former looking down at the latter with a cruel smile. With a quick spell Malfoy unchained him, and another spell rid Severus of his clothes. Severus's eyes fluttered open and he groaned weakly. Remus was surprised he was still conscious, having been exposed to the Cruciatus curse for so long a time.

"Now, Severus," Malfoy drawled as he slowly took off his own robes and mask and undid his trousers, leaving no doubt about his intentions. "Let us satisfy your yearning for love!"

"No…" Remus refused to believe his eyes when the blonde reached out for the defenceless young man on the ground and grabbed him rudely.

"I really hope you'll enjoy this, for that's what you were after, isn't it!" Malfoy sneered.

Severus's reply was a weak whimper, his eyes wide with horror. "L-Lucius…" he finally ground out, but the blonde silenced him with a brutal slap in the face.

The following scenes would forever be burned into Remus's memory. Severus, helpless, far too weak to defend himself, being convulsed with pain. Malfoy, visibly pleased with his victim's aguish.

Malfoy's voice snarled at Severus between panting gasps. "This… really… disgusts me… You… disgust… me… Do you… have the… slightest… idea… what… an effort… it costs me… to touch… you? Your mere… existence… makes me… sick!"

Remus prayed for it to be over soon, feeling he could not witness this for another second, but his prayer was not answered. Something inside him yelled at him to close his eyes and cover his ears, but he was unable to move.

Finally Malfoy had done with Severus and got up. Laughing, he towered above him triumphantly.

"Now, Snivellus, it really seems Potter and his friends got the point," he spat, kicking Severus right in the stomach. Still laughing, Malfoy put on his trousers and robes and left the room, leaving behind a whimpering bundle, curled up and shaking with agony.

Several shredded memories now floated by, containing Malfoy, Severus, more Cruciatus curses, a whip, blood, more laughing, more screams and crying and even more scenes like the foregoing one.

At last this madness faded away, and it was only now that Remus felt his legs give in and sank down to the ground. When he had recovered a little, he noticed that he still was in a dungeon, but now it was a smaller one, and there was a trellised window through which faint light was shining into the cell. A droning whimper was coming from the corner furthest from the door, and Remus could make out the cowering silhouette of a body.

He forced himself to get up and approached the figure, and, kneeling down beside it, he recognised Severus, who was rocking back and forth, arms tightly wrapped around his tucked up legs. He was naked, his skeletal body covered in blood, his back a mass of raw flesh. But what shocked Remus even more was the look in the young man's wide eyes. There was no spark of life in the black depths but a void that tried to absorb Remus the more the longer he kept staring into it.

Suddenly the door was flung open, and, his head snapping round, Remus saw a tall shape entering the cell. When it came nearer, he recognised that the wizard who had stepped in was Albus Dumbledore. Behind him Remus could make out a tall, hooded shape which seemed to be a Dementor, and now he realised that this was Azkaban.

Albus slipped across the room silently, and Severus's breath hitched unpleasantly until the old wizard crouched down beside him and pulled a spare robe gently around his shoulders, carefully minding his severely wounded back.

"It is over, child," he whispered gently, pulling the unresisting Severus to his feet as though the latter was a china doll and ready to break at any moment. "I have told them what you were doing for our side. You are leaving this place."

"I have… I have nowhere to go," Severus whispered in the hoarse tones of one who had been wrung dry of life. More than that, he sounded as if he had no refreshing spring or fountain to revitalise himself with - a man made old long before his time.

"You are coming to Hogwarts with me, Severus. I have already arranged for you to teach."

"I… can't."

"You can, child, and you will. You merely need to have faith in yourself. I do."

When after some more minutes, Remus finally pulled his head out of the Pensieve and looked up to face the headmaster, Albus could see horror flicker in his eyes, some unnoticed tears running down his ashen face.

"Why, Albus?" the younger wizard whispered, unable to steady his cracking voice. "Just tell me why… why did you ever let Severus go and face him again?"