DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

When Hunting Monsters

Chapter 5: Free me from this Hell

Severus Snape stared in shock and bewilderment at the scene laid before his feet. He had barreled into the dungeon wand out, only for the killing curse to die on his lips as his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

Bellatrix Lestrange lay on the floor, naked, and very dead. Her mouth hung open, tongue against her cheek as her eyes, bulging, stared at the stone ceiling above her, nevermore to close. Her black hair fanned out below her head on the floor like a dark halo and chains loosely encircled her neck, leaving rings of red indentations where they had been tightened against her pale flesh. The chains were attached to the floor at one end, behind Bellatrix, near her robes pooled on the ground, and Severus' eyes followed them past Bellatrix's throat, past her dropped wand, until they met their end at the cuffs enclosed on Potter's wrists. The boy was lying against the wall of the dungeon, also naked, green eyes staring at Severus defiantly as the prisoner awaited his death.

This was not Potter, couldn't be. The potter he knew was diminutive, clean, possessing short messy hair like his Father before him, with a naive arrogance in his eyes as he walked around Hogwarts as if he owned it. This prisoner was large, dirty, scarred, bruised, and bloody, and had shaggy hair that hung down to his shoulders. Strange tattoos covered his form, and his eyes held great anger and ferocity, but also a weariness that welcomed death. No, this could not be Potter, but the same eyes that bespoke a different identity betrayed his real one with their emerald intensity. Severus would always recognize Lily's eyes and they stared at him now with a primal desperation. The gaze of some fierce caged animal as it beholds its captor.

"Well, aren't you going to kill me then?" The voice that spoke was hoarse and lower then Snape was accustomed to, but definitely Potter's.

Severus reached a hand up and pulled off his mask, "Despite the beliefs instilled by your considerable ego, it is not everyone's life mission to see you dead."

Recognition along with surprise momentarily replaced the primality in the green orbs as Severus flicked his wand. The cuffs on Potter's wrists unclasped and fell, clanging, onto the stone floor.

Potter made a sound more wheeze than laugh, "Never thought you'd be one to come rescue me, Professor." He rubbed his wrists as Snape walked closer to him.

"Unfortunately, a certain headmaster would be very upset with me if I were to leave you rotting in this hellhole. I might even lose my job." Snape said drolly, kneeling in front of Harry.

"Ah, well we can't have that. We all know how attached you are to screaming at firsties."

"Be quiet Potter, you'll further damage your voice." Harry just looked at him, too tired to retort. "Here, drink this, you'll soon need your strength." Snape pulled a vial containing a swirling blue potion out of his robes and uncorked it, handing it to Harry who didn't accept it.

"I can't lift my arms." Harry's voice was weak and quiet as if he were about to fall asleep.

Snape clicked his tongue against his teeth in impatience and grabbed Harry's jaw with one hand, tilting the contents of the vial into the boy's mouth with the other. Harry's eyes seemed to light up and he got shakily to his feet with Severus' help.

"What was that?" He asked in wonder.

"Strengthening Solution." Snape answered curtly. "Your killing of Bellatrix saves you the time it would've taken to make her death appear as if by your hands, but we still must not tarry." He picked Bellatrix's robes up and waved his wand over them, transfiguring them slightly so they would fit, and tossed them to Harry. They were followed quickly by the witch's wand that he picked up off the floor. "You're also in luck that the Dark Lord will have left, just minutes ago, but many of his followers remain, and it's fast approaching the time for your torture to change hands." Snape and Harry both looked up as the heavy steps of boots echoed through the ceiling above them. Snape suddenly cursed before patting down his robes and pulling out another vial which he shoved it into Harry's hands.

"I almost forgot; the Dark Lord will have more influence in the ministry after tonight. He'll use the trace to track you. This potion will absolve its hold." Snape could tell the deatheaters were getting closer to the stairway by their footsteps. Harry wasn't quite sure what the Trace was but nodded anyway.

"Beneath the stairway, there is a portrait of a Malfoy ancestor. Speak the words 'Non Serviam. Liberate me ex infernis' and it shall grant you escape."

Harry walked over to the table underneath the bracket that held the torch. He picked up one of the knives they had used to cut him, and slipped it into the belt that fastened his robes. Then he reached up and took the torch from the wall.

"What about you?" he asked Snape, his back to him.

"I cannot help you past here, my role as a spy is more important to this war than ensuring your survival." The footsteps were descending, getting louder.

"Hurry Fool! Quickly!" Harry moved past Snape, running through the doorway and into the hall, Bellatrix's wand in one hand and the torch in the other. It was too late the deatheaters were already there.

"It's Potter, he's gotten out of his cell!" The deatheater on the left shouted, throwing a curse.

"Protego!" Harry shouted. The red curse bounced off the shield, careening back towards the caster that quickly ducked.

Adrenaline and a terrible anger pumped through Harry. He wasn't going to get caught this close to escaping.

"Saggitos horriblis!" Harry's ruined voice hissed out savagely as he jabbed his wand towards the deatheater that had just ducked. Cursed arrows wreathed in shadow flew rapidly across the hallway, leaving a trail of darkness thick in the air behind them. The deatheater let out a scream as they pierced through the holes of his mask, popping his eyes with a squelch, and thudding into his chest, stomach and legs. Already low to the ground from ducking, he fell sideways, curling up into a ball. The deatheater's scream never silenced as the darkness stole his mind with nightmares just as the arrows stole his life with blood.

"You sick fuck!" The other deatheater screamed, horrified and angry at the fate of his companion, he brought his wand up. Harry looked towards him, surprised. So caught up was he in the suffering of the deatheater he had just slain he had forgotten about the other one.

"Avada Ke-"

Harry ran at the man, reaching him just before he finished the curse. As the deatheater brought the wand down, Harry drove the torch he was holding into his face. Smoke filled the hallway as mask and flesh burnt. The deatheater dropped his wand and grabbed at the torch with both hands, desperately trying to pull it away from His face. Harry wouldn't budge; he had one hand gripping the man's shoulder and the other holding the torch firmly still. Cracks sounded as the mask fell apart and the deatheater's hair caught aflame, wreathing his head in fire while his skin bubbled and eyes oozed out of their sockets. Horrible keening noises were rent from the deatheater's mouth as he died.

Harry dropped him and he fell to the floor with a thud, face still smoking and bubbling, hair still burning. He bent down and took the man's wand from the floor, then walked over and took the other deatheater's wand as well, slipping both into his robes.

Harry moved to the portrait, and held the torch up, illuminating the man in the canvas. The Roman bore a great resemblance to Lucius Malfoy, except with shorter cut hair, and wearing a toga. Harry could hear shouts, and the rushed pounding of boots as more deatheaters made their way down the stairs. He had to move quickly.

''Non Serviam. Liberate me ex infernis'' He whispered the words urgently. The Lucius look-alike smirked, and the portrait swung backwards, giving him a small hole to crawl through. Harry bent down, preparing to make his way through before a large hand grabbed him, pulling him backwards by his robes. Bellatrix's wand was sent flying down the secret passageway.

The hand slammed him roughly into the wall, and Harry found himself face to face with his assailant, who wasn't wearing a mask. It was the big, blonde man that had apparated them here. It seems he had recovered from his wound, Harry had been hoping he had died.

The deatheater's brutish face was curdled by rage as he gazed upon the boy who had gotten the better of him.

"You're not getting away from me this time. The Dark Lord wouldn't let me kill you before, but he's not here now is he? This time you die."

"No, I think not. You've made the same mistake you made last time." The deatheater's face twisted in confusion. Harry stabbed the knife he had pulled out of his belt into the idiot's chest. The deatheater stared down at in shock, his eyes wide, as blood poured out. Harry kicked his foot savagely forward, burying the knife further, and sending the big man sprawling onto the ground.

Harry walked over, and dropped the torch onto the man's stomach. The black robes caught fire quickly.

"You talked when you should have killed me." Harry said coldly. The man burned and yelled wet gargling sounds as his lungs were filled with blood. Harry stepped backwards, and then, seeing spells flying at him, dove through the hole, into the secret passage way just in time. The multitude of curses impacted the ceiling and walls of the entrance, and the stone collapsed in on itself, creating a shield between Harry and the rest of the deatheaters along with ensuring his escape. He felt around on the ground for Bellatrix's wand. It was a trophy to him, a reminder that he had destroyed the witch who killed Sirius and put him through so much pain. He couldn't lose it. His fingers closed around the wand, and with a quick "lumos" Harry made his way forward in the darkness.

"And you're quite certain of what you saw Severus?" Albus Dumbledore was leaning backwards in his chair, staring at the man sitting on the other side of his desk. His hand was stroking his long silver beard. The old wizard was deep in thought.

"Yes Albus, I'm quite certain." Snape's voice was agitated and his black eyes were hard. "The boy used the incantation saggitos horriblis."

Dumbledore was very familiar with the curse Severus had described. It was used by the wizards of old during battle, popular for its efficiency. Even if the arrows failed to hit a fatal mark, the darkness that permeated the victim's mind, producing hellish visions of being feasted upon by demons, would surely incapacitate them. Quite simply the curse would rip apart the mind and soul no matter where the arrows struck. Because of that effectiveness it would pop up every once in a while throughout history, used by different Dark Lords. Grindewald was one who favored it, along with Voldemort who had used it on occasion. To have controlled the curse with the expertise Severus claimed Harry did, the boy either had to have become very proficient in the Dark Arts or have a great affinity for them. Dumbledore pressed a hand to his forehead disturbed. He wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

"How again did he escape, I'm afraid I was lost in my thoughts when you explained that part."

"I gave him the password for an escape route Lucius told me of. It's long been in place since before the manor was moved from Rome. In case anyone was to capture it. The Malfoys' ancient Roman ancestors would have considered it hell to allow themselves to be captured or forced into servitude by conquering wizards. It's Ironic that Lucius serves willingly."

"I'm afraid poor Harry has turned dark Severus." Dumbledore sighed, blinking away tears as he ignored the stares of the portraits lining his office walls. Fawkes warbled a sad note from his perch.

"Bellatrix and the other deatheaters tortured the hell out of the boy for a week, surely they deserved some form of retribution." Severus didn't sound very concerned at prospect of an evil chosen one.

"But to die like that…. You saw the suffering the curse caused, how could anyone believe another human deserves to perish in such a manner? It's not a fate I would wish on even Tom."

Severus' eyes grew angry and he raised his voice slightly, "Well then you're a fool Albus! You don't have to walk among them, pretend you're like them, or you'd know that they're not men. They're beasts. They gave up any humanity they possessed long ago to follow a man who never wanted his!"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Perhaps Severus… Perhaps you're right, and I'm simply too weak. Not hard enough to do what needs to be done. Maybe if I were different, we would have already won this war. But, my dear boy, I turned from that path long ago. What purpose is there in fighting so hard, only to replace one dark lord for another?" Severus didn't have an answer to this, and looked down at the polished surface of the desk, the newspaper displaying the dark mark floating above the Bones residence. Madam Bones was dead, Voldemort had killed her himself, and soon he'd have a puppet of his in her place as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A disturbing thought indeed.

"Do you know what the runes were that Potter had tattood all over his skin?" Snape looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, pushing the image of Harry lying against the wall of his cell into his mind.

The old wizard let out a gasp, probably startled at Potter's battered appearance.

"I really have failed the boy haven't I Severus?" Snape didn't answer. Dumblefore looked away for a few moments, again stroking his beard as he gazed at Fawkes.

"How is your hand doing?" Snape noticed Dumbledore had the cursed one hidden in the sleeve of his robes.

"It's holding up for now, you did quite a good job with it."

"You know there are… other treatments we could move onto. They would leave you incapacitated for a month or two, but they would save your hand, not to mention your life."

"I can hazard a guess as to what the runes were, based on evidence we found at his relatives home." The old wizard clearly didn't want to discuss the options regarding his hand.

"Oh?" Severus questioned. It had come as somewhat as a shock that Lily's muggle sister, who bore such a great resentment to her, and to Severus himself for being magical, had died. But, he hadn't had time over the last week to learn the exact details.

"Yes, Remus found a body in the woods, the carcass of one Amycus Carrow. It had been partly devoured, and that along with destroyed furniture and doorways in the house lead me to believe Harry took it upon himself to perform some ancient ritualistic version of the animagus transformation."

"Are you sure the werewolf didn't cause such destruction?"

"Severus… you really should let bygones be bygones, it's not healthy to hold such grudges for such a long time."

"Bygones?! The bloody half-breed attempted to make a meal out of me!"

"You know he wasn't in his right mind, my boy. Anyhow there is some good come out of all of this mess."

"And what good is that?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Harry escaped Tom's clutches with your help, and his muggle cousin, Dudley, somehow managed to get away from Privet Drive. We didn't happen upon his body during the investigation."

The passageway ended in a trap door that was actually a hollow boulder at the edge of the woods, the very end of the Malfoy property. Harry had barely pulled himself out, before being set upon by claws, feathers filling his mouth, as wings attacked his head.

"Hedwig?! Urghh ge'off me!" He pulled the owl off his face, and glared at it, spitting out a mouthful of white feathers. They floated in the air. Hedwig was glaring right back.

Harry supposed she was mad at having to fly all this way to find him. He wondered how she even knew where he was. Then again it must be the same way he could tell her to deliver a letter to anyone and she would somehow accomplish it.

"Look, I'm sorry alright? It's not like I knew I was going to be kidnapped by deatheaters." Hedwig hooted disdainfully.

Harry pulled Bellatrix's wand out and conjured a sheet of parchment along with a quill and ink bottle. Reviewing his charms, and transfiguration books, and practicing the incantations along with the wand movements had really paid off. It was something Hermione could probably do in her sleep, but Harry still felt proud he could actually do something useful with his magic for a change. It was something that didn't involve killing deatheaters, but that he could use on an everyday basis. Putting the parchment against the hollow boulder, he quickly jotted out a quick note to Dudley, asking him for his location, and instructing him to give Harry's broom and wand to Hedwig.

"Girl do you think you could carry my broom and my wand?" Hedwig clicked her beak and flapped her wings in distress.

"Alright, alright I guess that's a no." He added a bit more to Dudley's note, telling him to give Hedwig some galleons first, so she could come back with another owl.

"Give this to Dudley, and after he gives you some money go to the post office and give them this." He conjured another piece of parchment and wrote out a request for the temporary service of a few owls. "Then go back to Dudley, and bring my wand , broom, and invisibility cloak back here. I'll probably be somewhere in the woods." Harry was getting sick of using Bellatrix's wand. It didn't feel right, and he'd need the broom and cloak to get to wherever Dudley was.

He handed Hedwig the letters, which she clutched in her talons before taking off, hooting angrily. Apparently she wasn't very happy at being sent away so soon.

It had taken a few days for Hedwig to return , and Harry had traveled deep into the woods. His intent had been to transform into his animagus form, maybe gain some control of it, and then go hunting but he wasn't having much luck. During his torture he had felt the beast stirring in his chest, desperate to be let out, desperate to rend the flesh from his torturers bodies. The magical shackles had prevented that, but now it was his lack of enemies. He supposed the hunger would drive the beast out soon enough, but he was still glad that Hedwig had returned. He was eager to get out of the woods before death eaters managed to find him again. The post owls soon flew away after delivery, and Harry held his wand for a moment, reveling in its familiar warmth, before slipping it into his robes with the others, mounting the broom, and throwing the cloak over himself. He took off, the trees rushing by in flashes of green and brown as he ascended above the canopy of the forest. Hedwig, shining like a star in the black night, flew behind the invisible wizard who was heading swiftly towards London.

*****

An:

Thanks everyone who's reading and/or reviewing this story. It's pretty cool that people are actually adding it to their favorites, or story alerts. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but the next part really needs to be its own chapter. I'll try to have it up later today.

* Non Serviam, liberate me ex infernis = I will not serve, free me from this hell.

** Saggitos horriblis =terrible arrows