Flashbacks
As soon as he fell asleep, Dahlia gently lifted the thin body and placed him on the bed. Then she left to retire for the night.
The next morning, after feeding Severus some breakfast, which he only ate a little of, she left him on his bed, staring at the wall. She tried getting him to read, but he was simply too tired, and she didn’t push.
Not even an hour after he’d woken, Severus fell back asleep, his face twisted into a pained expression that only exaggerated his ruined features more.
She then called Remus, Kingsley, and Harry, just to give them a heads-up.
Sure enough, all three arrived quickly and gathered around the bed with an almost mournful air.
They discussed methods of medication for two hours, with Kingsley promising to catch Macmillan as soon as possible.
Severus stirred when they were talking, and the ragged breathing turned their attention towards him. He opened his eyes, the right one still cloudy. And then he blinked in shock, surveying the room. He’d never had three torturers together before, and he was scared.
“Numbers 576, 578, and 579. Severus Snape. Born January 9th, 1960 to Eileen and Tobias Snape. Here because I betrayed the Death Eaters, murdered Albus Dumbledore, and was a spy. I’m ready for whatever you throw at me today.”
The man recited the same exact words in the same hoarse, hardly understandable voice.
Minerva’s eyes filled with tears. Dahlia clutched her chest.
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Dahlia said softly.
Severus’s eyes faltered and began to glaze with terror.
“We’re here to help, Professor Snape,” Harry said helpfully.
Severus swung his gaze towards the boy and immediately crumpled.
“You aren’t- you’re not-” he wheezed, clutching his chest and coughing painfully. Remus flinched.
Dahlia elbowed Harry.
“How about this, Severus? Harry, Kingsley, and Remus will tell you something that only you two know, so that you know they’re real.”
“Like what we used to do in case Death Eaters were at the door,” Harry piped up, which only made Severus flinch and pale at the mention of the group.
“Here, I’ll go first,” Kingsley said in a much softer, gentler voice than usual. “Me and you went on a mission together to try and recruit the goblins but were unsuccessful.”
Severus’s breath rattled as he considered this answer. Finally, he nodded.
“You created Sectumsempra as a defense spell against me,” Remus said.
Severus shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut.
He didn’t deserve it, this kindness.
Not after everything that he’d done. Making that spell was one of the horrible things that he’d done.
“The last words you spoke to me before I left the Shrieking Shack was ‘Look at me’,” Harry said.
Severus opened his eyes again, wishing they’d all leave, but nodded nonetheless.
“Good,” Remus said, relieved.
“I’m sorry,” Severus blurted out, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m sorry.” His eyes swam with tears. “I’m sorry for killing him. I’m sorry for being cruel. I deserve this. I’m horrible. I murdered the helpless, the innocent. I tortured. I’m a monster, a traitor, and a puppet.”
He hacked into his blanket, his body convulsing with the coughs. He sank back, his eyes filled with pain, each breath rattling in his chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Each sob wracked his body. He curled up into a ball, shaking profusely.
“Severus…” Dahlia said softly, walking forward. “Can I touch you?”
He gave her permission, shakily nodding his head, and she took his left hand and stroked it.
“You did what you had to do,” she said. “Albus asked you to kill him. No one hates you for what you’ve done, and you don’t deserve this. At all. Whatever you went through, you didn’t deserve it, okay? You don’t have to be sorry at all.”
“You have the Order of Merlin, First Class, after all,” Kingsley offered with a smile.
“Me?” Severus croaked weakly.
“You. I can give you the medal later. Right now, we’re focused on arresting Eugene Macmillan. But Severus, you have to tell us what happened. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I…can’t.” Severus whispered the words, clenching his left hand into a fist, shaking with spasms and fever.
“That’s okay,” Kingsley said, shaking off disappointment.
“I can’t say it,” Severus wheezed. “But I can show you.”
Remus swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down. He didn’t really want to see.
But Kingsley nodded eagerly and ran out of the Infirmary to get Minerva’s Pensieve.
Severus shook on the bed, his eyes closed and his body slumped into a sitting position against the bed rails.
Dahlia sat on the bed next to him and wrapped the blanket around him, still holding his hand.
And when Kingsley returned with Minerva, she very visibly smirked.
Severus still didn’t fully trust them. In his eyes, they were all fakes. He trusted Dahlia slightly more though… their history and the sudden fondness that had just surged after seeing her again blinded his wariness.
Kingsley placed the Pensieve down next to Severus’s bed and extracted his wand, pointing it at Severus’s head.
“No, Kingsley, you have to tell him-”
Dahlia’s protests were drowned out as Severus collapsed and startled to convulse, flashes of images appearing in his mind.
Number 258, pointing her own wand at his temples and sending lightning-bolt shocks into his body.
Number 157, putting the Cruciatus on him for so long that Severus now shakes nonstop.
Number 558, with Bellatrix’s knife in his hands, carving out TRAITOR and then casting a spell on him so that it wouldn’t vanish.
Number 559, who saw what the person previous him had done, borrowed the knife, and wrote PUPPET.
Number 561, who decided that they liked etching scars on prisoners, too, and wrote MONSTER on his chest.
Severus thrashed in his bed, his legs flailing, his chest heaving for breath as Kingsley’s wand touched his temples.
This had to be an aftereffect of the Cruciatus and his torture, because real pain flared across his body, thousands- no, millions of knives piercing his body, twisting, digging, and burning him.
Severus couldn’t help but scream, a raw, raspy, and painful noise that shook the whole Infirmary floor and broke his weak vocal cords.
Severus was dying from the pain. Someone was most definitely a few inches away from him, uttering crucio. He was right, wasn’t he? They were all fakes and liars. Even Dahlia. They gave him food and warmth and safety only for them for torture him.
This is why he didn’t trust people.
Severus gritted his teeth against the waves of agony and tried to subdue the spasms and flailing. His eyes were screwed shut. He wanted it to all end, this pain. Everything.
His legs kicked out without his consent and he felt contact with something soft. Then, a small cry of pain that was soon drowned out by his own screech of agony.
Something pierced his arm. It didn’t hurt, not too much, but Severus still felt it. Milliseconds later, darkness swallowed his vision.