Title: In Memory's Wake
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Disclaimer: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
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PLEASE READ:
First off, this is a very short chapter…
I really abhor giving warnings, but since this is ffnet, I have to. Please be aware that the story begins to delve into some of the themes I warned for in the beginning. These include among others: disturbing content, non-con/rape (not explicit), violence, mental illness (treated respectfully).
Please do not read any further if you might be disturbed or offended by this content.
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In Memory's Wake by CocoaSnape
Chapter 8: To do the unthinkable
It happened three days later. Late Friday evening, a couple of hours after he had finished his dinner, Severus Snape was summoned to Voldemort's side.
It was an odd thing. Snape had spent the better part of the past few days preoccupied with the fact that the Dark Lord hadn't yet summoned him, worried that perhaps the Dark wizard had deduced that the events of four nights ago were all an elaborate charade that he had orchestrated. And yet, the very moment the Dark Mark had burned black on his arm, Snape couldn't shake the feeling of almost palpable dread at the prospect of Apparating to that monster's side.
Snape examined his surroundings at once, his mind taking in and processing each detail as he tried to determine the reason he'd been summoned. His 'Master' was seated on a raised throne, his posture casual, as he looked on at the assembly of about twenty Death Eaters. To the side, five unmasked men knelt – Malfoy, Avery, Dolohov, Wormtail and Macnair – the five that Snape had 'saved' from the Aurors a few nights before. They appeared cowed and Snape suspected at once that they had not had an easy week under the Dark Lord's mercy, or lack thereof.
A cold voice snapped Snape out of his thoughts. "Severus, our guest of honor."
"My Lord," Severus responded, quickly kneeling at the red-eyed wizard's feet and kissing the hem of his robe.
"Take off your mask and stand," Voldemort ordered.
Snape did as he was bid to with a swish of his wand and wondered what the hell was going on.
"No doubt you are wondering why I have summoned you here." Snape swallowed involuntarily. "I wanted to be sure you were… rewarded for your efforts some nights ago."
Despite being relieved that Dark Lord did not suspect his duplicity, Snape did not like where this was going, or the tone of that madman's voice. Not this again, he thought. Not this again, please.
Voldemort's eyes locked on the five kneeling Death Eaters. "You owe Severus a great deal." He paused, before addressing one of his servants specifically. "Lucius, it appears that you, in particular, owe quite the apology… to both of us."
Although it wasn't a question, Malfoy knew better than not to answer. He raised his head without hesitation and replied flatly, "Yes, my Lord."
Oh, they have had a horrid week, Snape reflected. Malfoy's swift and deferential response confirmed it.
The Dark Lord spoke again, his voice casual as he asked, "Do you want him, Severus?"
The question caught Snape completely off-guard. He had not been expecting this. "No, my Lord," Snape said without delay, making his distaste at the suggestion evident on his face. It was not hard to do.
"Too old for you?" Voldemort asked meaningfully, his mouth stretching into something that could have once resembled a smile. "Lucius, you are to repay Severus for your accusations. One of your Gringotts accounts should do."
Malfoy's pale face gained a little color at that, but he only murmured, "As my Lord wishes."
"Now then," Voldemort continued with a mad gleam in his eye, "I have my own little gift for you – and I think you will like it very, very much."
"I'm sure I will, my Lord," Snape responded with a bow. Inside his stomach clenched. Not this again.
"I do know how much you like the young ones…"
Snape stopped breathing. He tried, without success, to clear the lump in his throat. This was worse than he could have ever imagined. In a split second, Snape contemplated his options. Should he run? If he did, he would forfeit his role as spy instantly, and that would be a tremendous blow to the Order. But as his mind drifted to the unthinkable thing he surmised that that monster seated before him had in store for him, he could think of no other option. He couldn't do this – he wouldn't. Snape concentrated on Apparating, but before he could begin, he could feel the drain of his magic. There were anti-apparition wards up. Damn.
The options narrowed further – this or death.
Voldemort continued with perverse enthusiasm, his voice almost soft, "I was going to ask Macnair to bring me a young boy, but then, I thought of your fondness for Harry Potter, Severus. You do, after all, deserve much more than some anonymous boy."
Snape's stomach heaved and his body temperature felt as though it had instantly risen several degrees. It couldn't be. Snape moved his arm so that he could easily access his wand. His mind was racing. It couldn't be. Harry was safe at Hogwarts.
He'd just left there – surely he would have known if the wards had been compromised. A thousand possibilities flew into his mind. Perhaps someone had lured Harry off the grounds. But Harry wouldn't be foolish enough to leave, let alone in the middle of night… unless someone had convinced Harry that he was in trouble. Snape forced himself to breathe. Please, Merlin, don't let it be!
A moment later, two Death Eaters led a very frightened looking Harry Potter in from the adjoining room. His glasses were missing and his torn clothes were not his own, but the face staring back at Severus Snape was, without a doubt, Harry's.
Despite the horror of the situation, Snape's body sighed with relief. He knew immediately that it wasn't Harry. Knew immediately it was a Muggle – there was no trace of magic in the individual standing before him except for the Polyjuice that was coursing through his veins.
"Are you not pleased?" Voldemort asked, anger edging in his voice. "Procuring these hairs was not easy, Severus."
"Of course, my Lord," Snape replied instinctively. "I was simply stunned. And now I am speechless… at your generosity, my Lord."
"Of course you are," Voldemort hissed maniacally.
"My Lord, I feel so undeserving of this," Snape began, in a desperate attempt to find a way out of this horror, even if it meant making the Dark Lord remember his failures. "After all, it was partially my fault that I did not get the information about the Order counter-attack sooner. Perhaps if I had been closer to Dumbledore—"
"How modest you are this evening," Voldemort interrupted sharply, adding in an icy voice matched only by his terrible visage, "It does not become you."
Snape bowed.
"Now then, I can sense how eager all of you are to watch Harry Potter's defilement. Isn't that so?" His Death Eaters were murmuring their assents when Voldemort finished, "But this is not your prize. I don't think any of you incompetents deserve to see Severus's art."
The Death Eaters began to grumble their protests, but Voldemort quelled them all as he shouted, "Out of my sight, all of you!"
A few moments later, the room was empty, save for Voldemort, Snape and 'Harry Potter.'
Snape thought he was going to be sick. He tugged at his collar in an attempt to get some more air, which was growing increasingly more difficult with every passing moment as the tightness in his chest mounted. He had been in many impossible spots before, and he was a master at remaining cool and detached under the most difficult of circumstances. But in this moment, the thought of what was to come overwhelmed his instincts. Albus had been right. He should have left. He should have stopped spying. Then he wouldn't be here, about to do the unthinkable. Who was this person? He had no idea. He mind was a whirlwind, and he realized that if he was to survive, he had to block out his thoughts and emotions straight away.
"It's just us and Harry Potter now."
Snape swallowed.
Voldemort's features were ruthless as he said, "I expect to be highly entertained. Do you understand me, Severus?"
"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied flatly. He knew. He knew what the Dark Lord wanted – screams, pain, blood, every unspeakable horror that could be imagined.
Snape stepped forward, his tall figure looming over the familiar face of the boy before him.
The Polyjuiced Muggle must have known what fate awaited him, because he dropped to his knees instantly in front of Snape and whimpered, "Please don't hurt me." There were tears leaking out of those bright green eyes as the Muggle pleaded in Harry's voice, "I'm begging you, please don't do this!"
In response, Snape let out a demonic laugh that Voldemort echoed with perverse glee.
Just before Snape adjusted his mental walls to Occlude all emotion, he begged Merlin to spare him from the hell he surely deserved for what he was about to do.
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Author's note: I know a lot of you saw this coming – well, perhaps not this – but some version of a storm after the calm. I hope I've suitably shocked, but in a good way. I look forward to your thoughts.
And thank you all for your kind reviews on the last chapter.
Big hugs to my two outstanding betas: Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile.
Feedback is always appreciated.