Chapter Four The Suffering

A/N: Please excuse the fact that some liberties have been taken in this chapter (and following chapters) when it comes to potions, spells and other magical lore. I've done my best to research and to stay as close to canon information as possible but there are certain things that lack sufficient explanations and I have therefore had to fill in the gaps. Thank you for any and all reviews!

It felt like only minutes had passed until Harry was awake again, but he had no way of knowing how much time had really gone by. He was still trembling slightly and shivering in the cold, but the white hot agony had faded to a dull ache and the unbearable thirst was finally gone. His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been far too many days since his last meal. He had been well accustomed to being chronically underfed at the Dursleys all his life but even they had rarely gone multiple days without giving him at least something. His body had also grown used to more regular meals during the last year so the gnawing feeling of overwhelming hunger was no longer the normal for him.

There was nothing to do but wait, wondering when he was going to be dragged out and tortured again. There was no concept of time in the cell, no light to give any hint as to the time of day and minutes could have been hours for all Harry knew.

His wrists ached where the cuffs were now embedded into his skin, making Harry regret his rather hasty and thoughtless escape attempt that had only put him in an even worse position.

Would Voldemort have used the torture curse on him for so long if he hadn't tried to escape? He probably would have, but even just the thought of the punishment being repeated was enough to stop him trying to think of any other hare-brained escape attempts.

He thought back to what Snape had said about trusting Dumbledore, wondering if the headmaster had some sort of a plan to rescue him. He would want to be quick about it if he does. Harry thought, hopelessness weighing him down as he shivered in the cold and empty cell. He didn't know how much longer he could last in Voldemort's captivity, even with Snape healing him and keeping him alive.

When it came to Snape Harry was sure the potions professor turned death eater was enjoying watching him suffer, he had probably even volunteered to be the one to prolong his suffering. Snape had always hated him, he had made that clear from the very first class and he had only come to hate him even more as the year went on. The fact that he was a deatheater was not at all surprising, he had spent all year suspecting Snape of being after the stone for Voldemort and his suspicions had finally been confirmed in the worst possible way.

Dumbledore was wrong about him. Harry felt angry at the thought. But then why did Snape also tell him to listen to Dumbledore? It didn't make any sense.

There was nothing to do to make the time pass except think over and over everything. From the half hearted escape plans that he knew he would never have the courage to try, to wondering if his friends thought he was dead already, to speculating whether the Dursleys even noticed he had never returned for the summer or if they had been celebrating finally being rid of him.

He hadn't thought there could be anything worse than returning to his hateful relatives for the summer after his whole life had changed so much this last year, but he had definitely been wrong. Voldemort and his followers were much, much worse than the Dursleys and if Harry could snap his fingers and be back at Privet drive right now he would give anything to do so.

After a long time alone Harry heard footsteps outside before the door swung open, flinching as far back into his corner as he could. Please don't let them take me there again.

It took only a moment for him to realise it was Snape returning again, his now familiar tall silhouette menacing as it loomed over him once more.

He stopped in front of Harry and handed over another waterskin, this one was a bit larger than the first he had given him.

"It is spelled to refill this time." Snape said simply without any emotion, like he was talking about the weather. Harry took a long drink, still thirsty but grateful to not be feeling the unbearable urge to drink until his stomach hurt like he had the first time Snape had given him water.

"How long has it been?" He asked desperately, needing to have some vague sense of how much time he had spent in this cell. He knew by his empty stomach that it had been at least a few days but it was impossible to tell how many exactly.

There was a long pause before Snape answered. "Five days." He replied finally. Harry swallowed, eyes widening. Five days? He must have been unconscious for a lot longer than he thought.

"The Dark Lord has called for you." Snape said quietly, his tone still bland. It sounded a little odd somehow without the nasty bite Harry was accustomed to from him at Hogwarts. Like it was Snape but not quite Snape at the same time, because there were no insults or taunts. "Prepare yourself." Snape warned him with a dark look in his eyes.

Harry met his steady black gaze behind the mask, wondering what the other man was thinking. Was he enjoying this? He really didn't seem to be but Harry could only imagine that seeing the boy he hated and bane of his existence for the last year suffer like this had to be satisfying.

Snape flinched and broke his gaze, as if he somehow knew what Harry was thinking. Harry didn't think that was possible though, he hadn't cast any spells. "I cannot save you Potter." He said very quietly as he leaned in right next to Harry's face, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I will help you if and when I can. Do what the Dark Lord tells you but do not make eye contact. Do not try to escape again. Do not do anything stupid Potter and you may yet survive." He hissed under his breath before leaning away again. Harry had no time to really process his words before his chains were lifted, Snape gesturing for him to get to his feet. He obeyed and followed him through the cell door and back into the now familiar hallway.

As they walked towards the imposing door at the end Harry felt the dread building in his stomach, his hands starting to shake. He couldn't survive it again, the thought of the pain that likely awaited him was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. He followed Snape obediently through the door, this time there was a large group of death eaters surrounding their Lord again.

"Harry, how nice of you to join us." Harry flinched at the sickly greeting, keeping his eyes on the floor as he remembered Snape's earlier advice. He said nothing, hoping the other piece of advice about not antagonising Voldemort would prove useful. "We're going to play a little game tonight." The glee in his voice was extremely off putting and Harry paled thinking what awful things he could mean by that.

Snape lingered for just a moment behind him before turning away and taking a place at the back of the group that was gathered around Voldemort. "I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer." The Dark Lord continued. "If I like your answers, and I think you've been truthful, you'll be returned to your cell tonight. You may even be given a meal." He smiled cruelly. "But if I don't like them or if you try to lie to me…" He trailed off with a sinister smirk. "Well, we might get to have some fun."

He started off asking harmless questions, how did Harry like Hogwarts? Did he like quidditch? What was his favourite subject?

Harry answered with short responses, he liked it fine, yes he was a seeker, defence against the dark arts. Seeming satisfied Voldemort moved on, finally asking less trivial questions. "How did you find out about Quirrell and the Stone?" His serpentine eyes were married as he asked this time and he seemed much more interested in the answer.

Harry thought for a moment, not sure what he wanted to hear and wary of providing an answer he didn't like. "I…I didn't really, Hermione found out about the Stone." He admitted softly. "We knew Professor Dumbledore was protecting something, but we thought Snape was after it." His eyes darted to the back of the group of death eaters where Snape stood, silent and unmoving. "I didn't know about Quirrell."

Voldemort's snake-like eyes narrowed, leaning forwards slightly. "The old fool put you up to it?"

"N-no." Harry shook his head. "I don't think he even knew that we knew about it."

"Nonsense." Voldemort spat. "Dumbledore knows everything that goes on in that castle. He knew that Quirrell was after the stone."

"He didn't know." He said vehemently. "He wasn't even there when it all happened. It was my fault you got the stone." Harry felt a pang of guilt at the reminder, wishing not for the first time that he could go back and make a completely different decision.

"Oh spare me the self flagellation Harry." Voldemort sneered. "I am more interested in what Dumbledore had planned. He truly told you nothing? You just figured it out and ended up with the stone by chance?"

"Well…Hermione helped." Harry said slowly, not sure where Voldemort was going with this. "But yes, I guess it was mostly chance."

"Look at me." Voldemort said suddenly.

"No." Harry shook his head in refusal and glued his eyes to the floor, remembering what Snape had said about avoiding eye contact with Voldemort. The dark lord snarled, raising his wand and Harry suddenly remembered the other part of Snape's advice just a little too late; don't antagonise Voldemort. That was pretty confusing advice though, if Harry was honest. What was he supposed to do when avoiding looking at Voldemort was what was antagonising him?

"Imperio! Look at me." He hissed violently, his slitted pupils filled with dark rage.

Harry felt an odd sense of calm descend over him all of sudden, his pain and fear melting away as if it had never been there to begin with. He felt light, happy and relaxed. There wasn't a thing in the world to worry about anymore. He couldn't remember why he was even worried in the first place. Had he even been worried?

He was dimly aware of a lot of people around him but couldn't quite recall who they were or why they were there.

Look up, Potter.

It sounded like a good idea. Why wouldn't he look up? He should definitely look up.

He became aware of a niggling feeling in his mind, like he was forgetting something. There was a reason he didn't want to look up, wasn't there? Something he needed to remember about looking up. What was it again?

Look up! Now Potter!

The inclination to look was even stronger for just a second, before it all of a sudden started to fade. No, he didn't want to look up. That's right, don't look up. He was supposed to look down, he knew it.

LOOK UP!

Suddenly the hazy feeling disappeared completely and his awareness snapped back into place. He would not look at Voldemort!

"Never." He bit out softly, eyes trained on the floor. Voldemort could break his body all he wanted but he would never break his mind.

There was a long moment as Voldemort stood comically wide mouthed, stunned into silence. There was a soft murmuring around the death eaters that Harry couldn't really make out, but he had hardly a moment to consider it further before Voldemort was suddenly lunging into his space, eyes wide with madness and spit flying everywhere, he reminded Harry vaguely of one of Aunt Marge's vicious dogs right before they attacked him.

"Impossible!" Voldemort growled. "Crucio!" flooded back in, like it had never gone away in the first place. His jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might dislocate as the now all too familiar burning sensation lit up his entire body once more. He was once more aware of nothing but the pain, unable to think or process anything going on around him. After a long, long while there were some words around him, but the pain was too much for him to pay any real attention to them.

"…My Lord, use caution…"

He was on fire, he was going to wanted to die. Please let this be the end.

"Over exposure…the Longbottoms…" the words floated around him but had no meaning anymore. Every nerve in his body was firing, his mind felt like it was melting and starting to detach and float away. It was almost like how he had felt before, oddly calm and far away but with a hell of a lot more pain.

"…too long My Lord! You wanted Potter alive!" Suddenly the pain stopped, but Harry was barely aware of anything anymore. Had it really stopped? Or was it still going? He couldn't be sure.

He was far away, everywhere and nowhere all at once. There were meaningless sounds around him, movements, light, darkness. He faded in and out, not quite sure who he was or where he was supposed to be.

Finally the world went black and he didn't have to think about where he was anymore, he was just gone.

…

The relief Severus felt when the Dark Lord finally heeded his warnings and removed the curse was very short lived, it turned to concern as he hastily retreated with the almost unconscious boy before the mad man could change his mind.

He honestly didn't know if the curse had been ended soon enough or not, he had tried to intervene after a few agonisingly long minutes but the Dark Lord had been very slow and reluctant to heed his warnings. It was only upon hearing him say the boy may truly die that he finally released the curse and allowed Severus to take him away for healing. He didn't know if there would be anything left to hal at this point, but he would have to try.

He forced a potion for the aftereffects of the cruciatus curse down the boy's throat, knowing it wouldn't help with more than just the physical side effects but if by any miracle Potter still had his wits about him he would still need it to recover.

"Idiot boy." He muttered under his breath. He regretted his advice to the boy severely now, protecting him from legillimency was useless if the boy was tortured into insanity for refusing to look the Dark Lord in the eyes. Potter had held on to the wrong part of his advice with all his might and it might have cost him his life.

He still didn't understand how the boy had resisted the imperius curse and the Dark Lord's pure, undisguised fury made it clear he also had no idea how Potter had managed it either. Severus had heard of it being done but it was supposed to be extremely rare and certainly impossible for an untrained first year, or at least it should have been impossible.

After administering any potions he thought had any chance of helping the boy, he finally took out his wand. "Rennervate." Nothing happened at first and for a moment Severus thought it hadn't worked, but finally the boy's eyes opened slowly.

"Potter." His emotionless tone did not betray the inner turmoil that was going on in his head. He had been a spy for far too long to let his emotions have any affect on his countenance.

Potter's eyes were glazed and unfocused but they reacted to his voice and his head turned slightly towards Severus as he took off his mask. That at least was a good sign. "Do you know who I am?" He asked carefully.

There was no reaction from the boy at first and Severus began to think his mind may have indeed been compromised, but finally he nodded slowly.

"Snape." His voice was weak and hoarse from screaming, almost inaudible, but it was enough to put Severus at ease. The relief he felt surprised him but he pushed it away immediately and focused on the situation in front of him.

"Yes." He confirmed with a nod. "You are extremely lucky to be alive Potter."

Now that he was awake Severus noticed Potter was trembling severely, far more than he should have been from just the cold cell. It could only be from the curse. The cruciatus curse was unforgivable not just because it was extremely painful, but because of its multifaceted affect on both the body and mind. Over exposure caused severe, sometimes life threatening physical symptoms and continued or repeated exposure could drive one completely mad, such as what had happened with the Longbottoms at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Here." He held out another dose of the same potion, it was technically not supposed to be used again so soon but the fact that he was still trembling after the first dose was a bad sign that Potter's nerves may have been permanently damaged. The best chance of reversing the physical effects of the curse was as early as possible after exposure, however the downside of the potion was that certain ingredients made it toxic when given in too large quantities.

It helped a little, but not nearly enough as it should have. Severus frowned, wondering if he could try to alter the potion to more specifically target the affected nerves - perhaps by adjusting the amount of fluxweed, or perhaps the addition of octopus power to increase its potency while lowering some of the other ingredients that caused toxicity. Maybe a balancer as well? There were a lot of options he could try.

He forced those musings from his mind, realising it was not the time or place. He could work on an improvement to the potion when he got back to his lab, but for now the boy would have to make do with the standard potion as often as he could risk giving it to him.

He realised that while he had been lost in thought the boy had closed his eyes, his breath growing more even as he drifted off to sleep. That was good, Severus supposed, sleep would help both his mind and his body heal.

He eyed the sleeping form of Potter for a long moment, he was curled up as much as the restraints would allow, his right arm twisted awkwardly behind him. His limbs still shook and his skin was very pale, almost translucent from a lack of any kind of light for so long. He was also visibly underweight now, although Severus wasn't totally sure how much weight he had lost, the boy had always been small for his age.

Severus had not really cared enough to give it any thought before but five days of captivity should not have been enough to have Potter looking this frail, unless of course he had already lacked sufficient reserves beforehand.

Looking at the crumpled boy now it was hard to reconcile the two Potters. The Potter in front of him now - a beaten, barely-breathing child that had somehow resisted the imperius curse through sheer will and also withstood such extensive torture. Then there was the old Potter; a defiant, arrogant, lazy boy-hero that had inherited all the worst traits from his bully of a father and complained about almost anything.

He couldn' really hate the boy anymore as he was now no matter how much he we wished he could, he was far too pathetic and broken now to hate. The best he could do was to keep him alive, return him to Dumbledore and hopefully be able to go on enjoying belittling and making life difficult for him for six more school years until he was finally rid of him for good.

He straightened slowly, steeling himself and his mind to return to the Dark Lord. He knew him well enough to know he would expect an immediate report on the boy's condition.

When he returned the other death eaters were gone, only the Dark Lord remained.

"Severus." His voice was soft and much more calm, he had clearly regained his composure at least and his red eyes were no longer gleaming with outright madness. "Does Potter live?" There was a cautious edge to his tone that made Severus wonder why the Dark Lord wanted to keep him alive so desperately. It had to be more than just simple revenge for him to look so wary that he may have killed him by accident.

"Yes, My Lord." Severus nodded carefully. "He appears to have retained his mental faculties as well. There is severe physical damage but it will not be life threatening, so long as the exposure is not repeated and he continues to have access to the exposure potions." Severus chose his words carefully knowing the Dark Lord would resent being told what to do, but it was imperative that he didn't use the curse on him again. Even just one more time could truly prove fatal.

"He must survive." The Dark Lord said firmly. "I care little for the boy's life but I have recently discovered something very interesting about Potter." Severus waited, knowing better than to ask any questions and that the Dark Lord would reveal only what he chose to regardless of anything Severus said. "My own continued survival may depend on him. I need more information before anything can happen to him, I will not risk any mistakes until I am sure." He didn't know what the dark Lord meant by that but it sounded important, he tucked the information away behind his shields to examine later.

"Yes, My Lord." He repeated dutifully. After apparating out he returned straight to Dumbledore, the old man looking grave as he pulled his head from the pensieve. "We need to get him out." He said tiredly. "The fidelius is proving impossible to get around, we need to find a way to get to the secret keeper."

"I'm quite sure it's not Malfoy, I asked him outright if he knew who it was and all I saw in his mind was indignation that he hadn't been chosen." Severus frowned, pacing the length of the office as he thought. "He surely wouldn't trust it to Wormtail, that simpleton. It could be any of the others but most of the time he has only Avery, Nott or Yaxley keeping guard. It could be any of those three or someone else entirely. It's very difficult to find out any information when I can't do anything that might make any of them suspect me."

"Of course, Severus." Dumbledore nodded slowly. "The second you make any kind of move the ruse is over and Harry is all but lost. Patience and absolute certainty before acting is key."

"Do you know what he was referring to about Potter? The reason he needs him alive?" Severus asked, eyes narrowing as he met the headmaster's steady gaze.

"I don't know for sure." He said simply, his eyes for once betraying nothing.

"What do you suspect then?" Severus bit out, losing patience with the old man and his secrets.

"I have long considered how Voldemort was able to cling to life so many years ago and there are only a few very obscure forms of magic that could explain it. I don't know this for sure as I've yet to find it, but I suspect he may have made a horcrux." Dumebldore's tone was grave, leaving Severus with no doubt that whatever a horcrux was it was something very serious.

Dumbledore went on to explain that by splitting one's soul one could theoretically achieve immortality, as long as the object that stored the piece of their soul was not destroyed. It was very dark magic that required human sacrifice, and there were no known successful attempts that Dumbledore was aware of. It made sense, Severus supposed. Voldemort was certainly mad enough to experiment with dangerous soul magic, and if it had worked it meant that any attempt to kill him would ultimately fail without first destroying the horcrux.

"What does this have to do with Potter?" Severus questioned, feeling like he only had a few pieces of a very complicated puzzle.

"I need to do further research." Dumbledore shook his head. "It sounds as though Voldemort believes Harry could be the horcrux, but that shouldn't be possible. I was under the impression that one could only use an inanimate object, and it would have had to be in place before he used the killing curse on Harry or it would have killed him when it rebounded."

"Could he have more than one?" Severus postured. "If he had already made a horcrux before he attacked them that night could Potter have somehow become a second one?"

"Perhaps." Dumbledore frowned. "If the murder of Lily Potter was used to split his soul again…" Severus flinched at the name, filling with anger. "I am sorry Severus," Dumeblore apologised before he had a chance to explode. "Forgive me. I only meant to say, if a sentient being could indeed be used then it is possible that Harry could have become a second horcrux, in theory, but to split one's soul more than once…well I can only imagine the consequences of that."

Severus frowned, beginning to pace again as the beginnings of a plan started to formulate in his mind. "Perhaps the key to getting Potter out is the first horcrux. It would be the only thing more important for him to protect than Potter. You don't need to truly find it but perhaps we just need the Dark Lord to think you are close to finding it."

"You have a plan, Severus?" Dumbledore sounded truly hopeful for the first time since Potter had been taken captive.

"I will tell the dark lord your suspicions, it may be enough for him to try to secure or reclaim the first horcrux if he thinks you are on the verge of discovering it. If he leaves the castle I will have a chance to apparate the boy out from the throne room." Severus paused in his explanation, frowning slightly. "Of course, we can't be sure who he will leave behind. If it's Avery and Nott I can over power them. If it's more than that…I would have to wait for the right time. I'll only get one chance at this."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I think you may be right, Severus. If you do this there will be no turning back, your position as a spy will be permanently lost to us." He warned carefully.

"Yes, it will." Severus agreed. "What is more important to you? Having a spy or Potter?"

"Harry." Dumbledore answered immediately. "I have already failed him terribly. I will not risk his life any further just to keep a spy in Voldemort's inner circle, as useful as you have been to us."

"Very well." Severus nodded in agreement. "This may be the last time we speak, if our plan works and he leaves the castle I will remain with Potter until I get an opportunity to act."

"Good luck Severus." Dumbledore said wearily. "We are all depending on you."

…

The next time Harry woke up, he wished he hadn't. His entire body was trembling out of control and he couldn't voluntarily move at all, every nerve in his body was on fire and the connection to his muscles seemed like it had been completely severed. He lay in agony for a long time, unable to move out of his crumpled position and desperately praying for someone, anyone, to come through the door and help him.

It felt like an age had passed before the door finally opened, and Harry felt an intense relief at the sight of his unmasked potion's professor in the doorway. To feel utter relief in the presence of Snape shocked the small part of him that was still conscious of his surroundings, but the rest was focused on the small vial in his hand.

Snape wasted no time and gave it to Harry straight away, pulling a second one from his pocket immediately afterwards. "You will need another."

Snape tipped the second potion into his mouth, motioning for Harry to swallow.

The two back to back doses helped with the tremors a little, but lifting his head and pulling his body up into a sitting position was still much more difficult than it should have been, it was like moving through mud and every movement took far too much energy and effort.

"You will get a headache, it may be severe." Snape said shortly. "Exceeding the single dose is not usually recommended, but in your case it is necessary."

Harry could already feel a dull ache in the back of his skull but it was nowhere near as painful as the rest of his body still felt.

"Thank you." Harry whispered hoarsely. "Why are you…" He paused, regretting starting his question when the effort of talking started to feel too hard. "Helping." He said finally. "To keep me alive for Voldemort?" He got out.

Snape flinched ever so slightly at his casual use of the name, but otherwise his expression remained even and gave no hints as to what he was thinking. "To keep you alive." He said simply.

It was both an answer and a non answer at the same time, and Harry felt more confused than ever. Snape didn't seem to be revelling in Harry's suffering like Harry would have expected him to and he hadn't participated at all in hurting him, but he was also clearly working for Voldemort and seemed to be actively betraying Dumbledore while also giving confusing and so far unhelpful advice.

"I'll be back in a few hours." Was all Snape said as he turned back towards the door. "You will become very uncomfortable before then. The two doses will help but it will wear off quickly, so be prepared." He said finally before leaving Harry alone once more.

Harry shuddered at the thought of the intense pain, shaking and inability to move returning to its former intensity, it had only just settled to a barely manageable level. He supposed it was better than being dragged back before Voldemort for another round though, and tried to let himself rest as much as he could. He had free access to water now thanks to the spelled waterskin but so many days without any food was definitely taking its toll and his energy levels and strength felt critically low.

He drifted in and out of sleep, never quite able to fully succumb to it. Part of him was still on high alert at all times, listening for the approach of Snape or any other deatheaters. He stopped being able to try to sleep at all after a few hours of struggling, his whole body was aching and trembling more and more by the minute. After what seemed like foreverthe door finally opened again and Snape gave him two more doses. He was flooded with relief as the potions worked quickly, returning the symptoms to a manageable level.

"Is this going to be permanent?"He asked weakly, unsure if he even really wanted to know the answer, and Snape's expressionless face did nothing to reassure him.

"The physical symptoms are reversible over time." Was all he said in that strangely bland tone before leaving once again. The same cycle continued like that for a long time, he would drift into a fitful sleep, eventually be awoken by the symptoms becoming too unbearable again and just when he felt like he was ready to claw his own eyes out Snape would appear with the potions again. Rinse and repeat.

The mild headache had to begin with had slowly turned into a thumping migraine and his vision had started to become blurred a little around the edges, Harry supposed these were probably the effects of overconsuming the potion that Snape had mentioned before. It got so bad that he struggled to even see the potion in Snape's hand as coloured dots danced across his vision, as he blindly reached out but missed it by an inch.

"Potter." Snape growled, sounding angry. "Can you see?" He barked.

Harry winced slightly at his sharp tone, but shrugged in response. "Not so well." He muttered. "It feels like a really bad migraine."

Snape cursed under his breath. "It's toxicity from the potion, I had hoped it would not build up quite so quickly." He shook his head with a sigh. "There's nothing for it. You will have to skip the next few doses. It won't be immediately fatal but it may become….difficult to bear." Snape said, the barest hint of reluctance in his tone now.

Harry swallowed nervously, he was hardly managing to make it until the scheduled times as it was, he couldn't possibly go any longer in between.

"Okay." He breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew he had no choice.

Snape turned to leave before pausing for a moment at the door. "I am working to improve the potion, to increase the strength and lower the toxicity. Untreated the symptoms will threaten your life over time, so the Dark Lord has agreed to me making the adjustments." Harry frowned as the door closed, had that been Snape been trying to comfort him? Why else would he share that information when he didn't have to?

Harry was beginning to feel more and more confused and wondered if this was the symptoms of some kind of Stockholm syndrome. He had been here for probably close to a week by now and Snape was the only person he ever saw that wasn't torturing him and was in fact healing him, for whatever reason. He didn't know if the intense relief he felt when he saw Snape arrive with the potion was even real, or just a product of his current traumatic environment. Everything was so confusing and mixed up in his head, and the constant pain only made everything harder to work out.

The time in between Snape's visits felt so much longer this time, Harry wished he had a clock or some way to keep track. He desperately needed some way of knowing when Snape was due to come back, so he would know how much longer he needed to hold on for. The pain had grown unbearable and his muscles had completely stiffened again. It felt almost as bad as it had before the very first dose of the potion he remembered having and Harry struggled not to panic as he waited and waited for Snape to return.

He began to feel like he was slowly losing his mind. He was lost in the pain while also trying to listen intently for any hint that Snape could be approaching the potion, but every time he thought he heard something it ended up being in his head. He wasn't able to move his head enough to look at the door anymore and there were a few times that he was certain he heard it open only to realise it must be some kind of auditory hallucination when the door never opened and the light he was desperate for never came through.

After some amount of time that could have been anywhere from an hour to a day he heard the door open again, holding his breath and praying it was real this time. He felt like he could hear vague words, but that could be his mind playing tricks on him as well.

Finally a light touch on his shoulder made his heart skip a beat, Snape was finally here. A hand pulled his jaw down gently and poured the potion into his mouth, Harry felt like crying tears of joy as it started to work and the symptoms began to relieve. There was no immediate second dose this time and Harry blinked slowly, stretching his aching neck and arms that had cramped from being held still for so long.

He finally was able to look up and saw Snape standing over him, studying him carefully. "How do you feel, Potter." He said quietly.

Harry paused, mentally going over his body and categorising all the physical sensations. There was still pain but it was much, much less. More of a steady background ache that he could tune out if he really tried. The shaking seemed to have stopped, except for a slight shivering that may have just been from the cold. His muscles felt like they had been reattached to the nerves and he was able to move freely, if a little stiffly in the joints that had been awkwardly positioned for so long.

"Much better." He said finally, and even talking was easier now. "Thank you."

Snape nodded, putting the vial away in his pocket. "Good." He said simply. "Headache?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "No, no dizziness either now."

There was a tiny expression that flitted across Snape's face that could have been relief, but it was gone before Harry could really even process it. "I did not have time to test it but it seems it is working well enough. You will not need it so often now, but the regime will still need to be frequent to reverse the damage."

Harry nodded, expecting Snape to leave as he usually did but when he didn't immediately do so Harry felt anxiety rising in his body.

"He has summoned you." Snape said in that now familiar manner, as if he had read Harry's mind somehow.

"Oh." Harry paled, the blood draining from his face as his breath came faster and faster. Snape watched him for a long moment like he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing. He simply gestured for Harry to stand and lead him through the corridor, Harry feeling like he was walking to an execution.

Perhaps it will be. Harry thought, almost prayed. It seems like he nearly killed me last time by accident, maybe he won't be able to stop this time.

Part of him shied away at the thought, the part of him that had faced a troll, tried to save the Stone from Quirrell and openly defied Voldemort. The Gryffindor part, the part that had made friends and proven himself and grown exponentially within him over the last year at Hogwarts. That part felt incredibly small now and the rest of him, the side of him that cowered in fear at the very thought of the Throne room, the part of him that cried himself to sleep in his cell, the side of him that had always been too terrified of the Dursleys to ever even try and do anything about his situation…that part was strong now, and that part felt like an execution sounded like his only real way out.

That part of him just wanted the suffering to end.