Author's Note: I love you guys...I hope you all know that. Just a quick note though, techwiz asked a good question, why wasn't Voldemort destroyed in this time as well? The answer is this: Snape saved Lily and Harry before Voldemort had a chance to kill them. It was Lily's life sacrifice that created the protective charm that caused the killing curse to backfire. Since he had not yet killed Lily, he did not try to kill Harry. Hence, Voldemort is alive and well in this story.

Also, the words in italics are a flashback. With that said, on to the next chapter!

Chapter Seven: Scars

I watch the morning dawn upon your skin
A splinter in the light
It caught and frayed the very heart of us
It's been hiding there inside for all this time
How a sure thing winds up just like this
Clockwork silence only knows

-Now or Never by Josh Groban

He couldn't tell if it was the throbbing of his cranium or the violent rolling of his stomach that drove sleep away from him. Either way, it meant he was awake and his entire back felt on fire. Voldemort…now he remembered. The Dark Lord must have taken his defection extremely personally as he had used Severus' own spell on him, knowing that it would not kill him. Voldemort most likely had hoped that the Order wouldn't take him back with them, leaving him in the street to bleed out. He could still hear that high, cold voice practically whispering "sectumsempra" and then feeling his back explode in white hot pain.

Severus forced his eyes open and the first thing he saw was Lily, curled up in a chair and sound asleep. He felt like weeping, she had survived yet another attack. Sleep had smoothed out the lines of grief on her face and the early morning light lit up her skin to a golden glow. He had to close his eyes again, it hurt too much to look at her. Especially since the last time he was in the hospital wing, laying on his stomach was because of her. The fear of having her see those scars only made his stomach churn even more.

He had returned to the Slytherin dungeons with a heavy heart. He had tried his best to apologize to her but she had refused. He wondered if he would ever find redemption for speaking that one, horrible word in a moment of weakness. If she didn't provide it for him then he knew redemption would never come. It was a fate he deserved. Anger tinged the remorse, however. By calling her a "mudblood" (he shuddered at the thought of the word) he had effectively severed all ties to her which meant he may as well have handed her over to Potter on a sliver platter. No, gold, he thought with a smile. Gold would look much better with her hair.

"You've been out late," a voice sneered.

Severus stopped in his tracks, all pleasant images of Lily fleeing from his mind. He had made it to his dorm room but had failed to notice that all the lamps were still burning strong and there were a few more people in the room than normal. Lucius, now in his seventh year, was standing by Severus' bed, arms crossed and scowling. Mulciber, Avery, Knott, Grabbe and Goyle had all taken up stances that effectively blocked his escape from the room. He forced down the panic that had risen in his chest.

"I was studying late," he lied.

"Not a likely story," Avery accused. "Bellatrix Black saw you up by Gryffindor Tower tonight."

Severus gave Mulciber his best sneer. "Better not let Rodolphus hear about that. His fears of losing her to a Gryffindor may be proved."

"She was following you," Lucius confirmed. "She heard you apologize to that filthy mudblood. I told her, no, you couldn't have heard him right. This is Severus we're talking about. But she said otherwise."

Avery snorted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said in a high-pitched voice, "I never meant to call you Mudblood."

Lucius sighed wearily. "Bellatrix doesn't like you. I would not put lying about this conversation past her. So tell me, Severus," he put his hands on Severus' bony shoulders. "Were you apologizing to the mudblood?"

Severus paused, trying to come up with a suitable excuse. But he was tired and Lily's rejection cut deeper than anything that these people could do to him. In fact, he wanted them to do their worst. He wanted to feel physical pain that would equal the pain he felt inside. So he sealed his fate that night with three simple words, "She's my friend."

Lucius' face fell, as if he was saddened by this announcement but his gray eyes gleamed with the appreciation of inflicting harm, even if it was on a fellow death eater to be. "Well, I'm afraid she's not your friend anymore."

They didn't even use magic on him, just fists. It was supposed to be the ultimate insult, a show that what he had done wasn't worth the effort of using magic. Among the Death Eaters, it was the worst form of punishment possible. And he didn't fight it at all, instead, he welcomed it.

He didn't know how long they punished him but he did know when it ended. He never found out if it was on purpose or the result of an over achiever when it came to violence. Someone had grabbed him from behind and hurled him across the room. Instead of having a fellow housemate stop his trajectory, the full length mirror was what stopped him. His initial impact shattered the glass, his bounce back against the wall drove the shards into his back before he hit the floor.

Apparently, everyone thought that the punishment was over and those who slept in the room, readied themselves for bed. Lucius had returned to his own dorm room, followed by Grabbe and Goyle. When the lamps were extinguished, he tried to stand up but couldn't. He could feel some of the shards move as he tried to stand up and the pain was just too great. So he dug his fingertips into the grooves of the stone floor and drug himself across the room. He was able to make it as far as the common room before his arms gave out on him.

"Severus?"

He prayed to anyone who was listening that the female voice he heard was not Bellatrix Black. Thankfully, someone was listening. Narcissa Black's fine featured face entered his view. She was Slytherin's Head Girl so the fact that she was in the common room so late at night was not out of the ordinary.

"Oh, Severus," she sighed wearily. "I heard Bella mouthing off but I thought for certain she was wrong."

He tried to laugh derisively but it came out as a pained groan. He was relieved it was Narcissa. He had discovered last year that she was a metamorphagus, the same as her sister Andromeda. She wanted it kept a secret, trying to preserve the thought that she had inherited all the breathtakingly good looks. She didn't want anyone finding out she had a little help. He had dutifully kept that secret which meant she should help him now.

"If you could," he gasped, "just get rid of the large shards. I should be able to stand up after that."

"How about I levitate you to the hospital wing?"

He laid his sweaty cheek against the cool stone floor. "That sounds fine too."

Madame Pomfrey had tried everything to reduce the scarring but he had laid on the floor with the shards in his back for so long that even dittany didn't get rid of all the scars. When Pomfrey had asked him how this happened, he claimed he tripped over a robe that had been left on the floor and stumbled into the mirror. He knew she didn't believe him but she didn't press him for a truthful answer. He slowly opened his eyes again and saw Lily staring at him. How he wished he could have seen that the last time he was in this position.

"Morning," she said quietly.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak, even then it came out hoarse. "Morning."

Lily stood up from her chair and judging from the way the light glinted off her red hair, it was still early morning. "Can I get you anything, Sev?"

Just seeing her was enough for him but asking her to stand there all day wasn't a plausible idea so he shook his head. Her face, now animated, looked pinched and she frowned slightly. She always looked like that whenever she had bad news. She had that look that night in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Sev," she reached out her hand to touch him but then she withdrew it again. "Sev, Poppy can't close the wound."

Of course she couldn't. He was the only one that knew counter curse and judging from where his back was hurting, he wasn't able to heal himself. He tried to push himself up but couldn't. He did figure out why she withdrew her hand from his vicinity: he wasn't wearing a shirt. Either it was his scarring or just him in general that repulsed her and a stab of hurt hit him in his heart that was stronger than what he was feeling on his back.

"I can tell you the counter curse."

Those brilliant greens eyes widened and she whipped out her wand. "Tell me what I need to do."

He repeated the string of words, all of them Latin based, that together translated to "with love and care, mend together." She repeated the words over and over until she memorized them and when she felt comfortable with them, she raised her wand and pointed it over the wound.

"Wait!"

She lowered her wand slightly. "What? What's the matter?"

"You, uh, you need to sing the words."

"Sing them? To what tune?"

He didn't know really. When he had used it to heal the wounds that he inflicted on himself, the tune had come as he said the words. He wasn't sure if she needed to use the same tune or if the healing came with a unique song of the witch or wizard who was using the spell. He came to the conclusion the song should be unique. "You'll know it when you say the words."

She nodded thoughtfully and began waving her wand over the wound, repeating the words he had just taught her. At first nothing happened, but then he heard the song start to lace itself through the words and a strong warmth began to flood his torso. Lily's song was lulling him back to sleep though he tried fighting it. In the end, he lost and a restful sleep overtook him.

Lily couldn't describe the relief she felt when she saw the skin starting to knit itself back together. It only took three more incantations before the long gash had completely sealed. However, it left a long white scar that ran from his shoulder blade, across the center of his back and ended above his hip. She wondered if there was any way to heal the scar but she couldn't come up with anymore spells for that purpose. Perhaps Poppy knew of something. As she was studying the new scar, she noticed the many smaller scars. They were faded, telling her they were older but there was so many of them. She wanted to touched them but she knew he would interrupt her touch the wrong way. That was why she had stopped herself from touching him before.

"How did you heal that?"

Lily turned around to see a very surprised Poppy. "He told me the incantation to heal the wound." And Lily told the Hogwarts nurse what it was and how she managed to accomplish it. Poppy retrieved a large, leather bound book and quickly jotted down the counter curse for future reference.

"Poppy, do you know how he got these scars?"

The old woman pulled the blankets over now the sleeping man and led Lily away from the bed. "He told me he tripped on a discarded robe that was left on the floor and fell into a mirror. He had so many shards of glass embedded in his back. I never believed him but I didn't press him for any more details."

"Why not?"

"I was more concerned by his demeanor that night. He seemed more sullen that usually, like he had given up. I assumed he had done it to himself. It was the last day of OWLS. You would be surprised at how many students allow the pressure of exams to get to them."

Lily stopped dead in her tracks. OWLS, that was their fifth year. The last day of those tests had been their falling out. According to Poppy, he had come to the hospital wing after he had come to Gryffindor Tower. What if he had done that to himself after she refused to accept his apology? The thought frightened her to no end, that he would be capable of doing such a thing to himself. But what if someone had done it to him because his apology attempt had gotten back to…his Slytherin friends. She felt as if someone had dumped ten gallons of ice water over her head.

"There's Mommy!"

She turned to the entrance of the hospital wing and saw Sirius walking towards her, a smiling Harry in his arms. Once he caught sight of her, Harry broke into a delighted grin and clapped his hands together. She forced the thought of Severus being beaten till he was scarred on her account from her mind as she took her delighted son into her arms.

"Did you sleep at all?" Sirius asked.

She shrugged. "A little."

He looked over her shoulder and a morbidly curious look came over his face. "How is he?"

She felt a flash of anger at Sirius, knowing of the bullying that he and James had put Severus through, both the times she knew about and the ones she didn't. But then she thought of James. No matter what he had done in the past, he didn't deserve the death he had suffered. The emotions that raged through her at the moment seemed so very paradoxical and a sense of weariness settled over her.

"He's fine, Sirius. He'll be fine."

"And how are you?"

"Tired. Do you think Dumbledore-"

"Top floor of the Gryffindor Tower is set up for us. Go, get some sleep. I'll keep Harry if you want."

"No," she pulled Harry closer to her. "I want him with me. I just want…" but she found she couldn't finish the sentence. She wanted James back, alive and well. She wanted Voldemort vanquished and peace back in the wizarding community. She wanted to erase Severus' past, all of it, and rewrite a happier one for him. But none of those things were possible.