Cruciatus
In the days that followed, Severus was initially relieved to have been able to share what he suspected about Umbridge with Dumbledore, but this respite proved to be short-lived. It was true that the Headmaster seemed to have taken his fears quite seriously, but on the other hand, Severus could not avoid the woman (whom he had begun to mentally nickname 'the toad') that he passed in the corridors, at meals and sometimes even in the park. He couldn't help but cringe when her bulging eyes landed on him, and he had the impression that she was staring at him more than she should, with an evil expression on her face. But perhaps he was imagining things. Two weeks had passed, and Severus had no recollection of what had happened to him. After a while, Severus had grown tired of feeling sorry for himself and had begun to gather the ingredients to make the Invisibility Potion. This, he thought, would give him a new purpose, one of his own, not at all like teaching those fools or fulfilling his missions for the Order. Severus had another reason to worry. The Dark Lord had summoned him once, on the night of his rebirth earlier that summer, and Severus had not heard from him since. Dumbledore was growing impatient about the matter too, and Severus knew he was wondering if Voldemort had any suspicions about his servant's loyalty. The Headmaster had expected Voldemort to try to contact Severus over the summer, but not once had he sent for him. Either the Dark Lord did not trust his Potions Master, or he had heard of his injury and decided to let him heal. The second possibility seemed highly unlikely, and when Dumbledore had broached the subject with him, Severus had again felt a sudden fear creep over him. In any case, Voldemort was now aware that something had happened to him, the Death Eater children at Hogwarts would have mentioned Severus' scars to their parents, and the story of the Acromantula attack would not stand up to Voldemort's investigation. Unfortunately, the story had spread quickly around the castle after Severus had told Professor Sinistra about it in a corridor and a group of Hufflepuffs in the area had overheard. At first, he had thought it was Hagrid who had been unable to keep his mouth shut, but when Severus had gone to his house to bring him the essence of Dittany that had been altered to heal the half-giant's skin, the gamekeeper had assured him that he had nothing to do with it.
A further two weeks had passed without any lessening of Severus's anxiety, but at the same time he kept telling himself that he had no right to fail. Severus had come to realise that he was not the only one who felt a particularly strong animosity towards Umbridge. Potter had been given a row of detentions with her at the beginning of the year, and in Potions Severus had seen a blistered mark on the back of the Gryffindor's hand. He read 'I must not tell lies' and realised with horror that it must be Umbridge's work. Since he'd decided to ignore Potter and his friends, he'd felt less contempt for him and less anger: that he was the spitting image of James, that he was alive, and Lily was not. Lily. Severus had been thinking about her less and less lately, and in addition to his problems and his lessons, another figure continued to inhabit his thoughts, despite his best efforts to make it disappear.
Severus thought he was being ridiculous. More than once he had thought back to the night Black had held him in his arms. He wondered if he hadn't been dreaming that moment, which seemed particularly distant and unlikely. Why had he done it? Why had he taken such good care of him, instead of taking the opportunity to make him miserable and mock him, as he usually did? What had changed him? For Severus was now convinced that if it hadn't all been a dream, Black really had acted differently. And when they had parted... Severus had thought the Gryffindor was going to kiss him. Worse, for a moment he had felt an invisible force pulling him towards Black's lips, towards his beautiful face, surrounded by dark curls and warm grey eyes. As he always did when he had such thoughts, Severus felt himself blush. Perhaps something had gone wrong with him when he had been unconscious for so long? Severus had no idea why Sirius Bloody Black would want to kiss him. When he imagined the scene, Severus always saw a moment when Black, surprised and shocked by the kiss, pushed him away violently and insulted him, calling him a disgusting little Snivellus and asking him how he could have thought that he, Sirius Black, would want to place his lips on his. After such thoughts, Severus felt a desperate darkness spreading through him.
As September drew to a close and October began with a freezing downpour, what Severus had feared happened. He had returned from his evening meal and slumped into the armchair in front of his fireplace, exhausted from a tedious day of lessons. It was the end of the week. Suddenly he felt the dark mark burn his left arm and he let out a small cry of surprise. But he had been prepared for it. He knew it would happen, he just didn't know when. And now he was terrified. Severus rose from his chair and breathed calmly, trying to replace the fear with cold anger. He had no right to make a mistake. He walked to his room and waved his wand at the chest containing his Death Eater robes and mask. Much as Severus hated having to wear these accessories, which to him were nothing more than signs of servitude, he couldn't help but wish for the same exhilaration he had felt almost 20 years ago. When he had first donned the robes and mask, Severus had felt as if no one could resist him, a sense of power running through every fibre of his body. But deep down, Severus had always known it was a mistake, the worst mistake of his life, and that he would pay for it to the end. That night, Severus was far from feeling powerful. He pulled his mask over his face as the school gates closed behind him, just glad to be able to hide his face for a few minutes at least. Pulling the hood down over his head, he turned and disappeared.
As his feet hit the ground, the first thing Severus noticed was the driving rain that continued to pour down on him. He looked up to see the leaning silhouette of an old building perched above a precipice. As he made his way towards the cliff-top house, Severus caught the scent of salt and sea, and only then did he realise that the noise he was hearing was only partly due to the torrential rain. The roaring waves crashed against the rock, and soon, as he climbed the path to the house, he no longer knew whether the water splashing in his face and running down his mask was coming from the sky or the sea. Soaking wet and freezing cold, Severus reached for the handle and opened the dilapidated door opposite him.
Immediately he saw him. Severus took a few steps forward and dropped to his knees, bowing his head.
"My Lord," he said.
"Severus, come on boy, get up," Voldemort said in his cold, hissing voice.
Severus immediately leaned on one of his knees and rose to his feet. His head was slightly bowed in submission. Voldemort approached him.
"So you're very busy, Severus," he asked mockingly. "So busy that you don't bother to ask about your master?"
"My Lord, I'm always busy, but the rest is nothing compared to you," Severus replied. "I always come when you need me. I'm always ready."
"Well," Voldemort laughed. "And yet it seems to me you've had a pleasant summer, haven't you? Doing nothing, with that good-for-nothing Black?"
Severus stiffened. Of course he knew.
"My Lord, I was forced by Dumbledore to stay with Black."
"You didn't seem to try very hard to escape, Severus. If these long holidays were so painful, you could have left. If you'd wanted to," he spat.
"But..."
"Shut up," Voldemort cut him off, his voice now threatening. "I'm very disappointed, Severus. You could have come to the Malfoys and made yourself useful to our cause. Instead, you've been hiding in Dumbledore's robes, hanging out with that blood traitor, Sirius Black."
Severus said nothing. He knew it was useless. He felt shame burn his face and a dull rage invade him. Why hadn't he left? Surely Lucius' estate was not lacking in comfort.
"You are speechless, Severus," Voldemort remarked.
"Because you are right, my Lord," the Slytherin muttered. "I should have tried to leave, I regret that. I made a mistake."
"It's good you admit it, I can't stand cowardice and dishonesty."
"I am at your service, my Lord," Severus said automatically.
"I know, Severus, I know. I am glad to hear you say so. But you will have to make amends for this mistake. I've barely returned and I'm already disappointed in you."
Once again, Voldemort's threatening words chilled his blood, but Severus was undaunted. "Stay conscious, concentrate," he mentally commanded himself.
"Remove your mask," Voldemort ordered him. "I want to see the marks."
With a hand he struggled to control, Severus touched his mask and felt it lift from his face. Holding it in his right hand, he raised his head to look at his master. Voldemort reached out with a long, slender finger, like a spider's paw, and pressed the nail against the scar across the bridge of his nose. Severus did not flinch.
"Nasty cuts, Severus... I wonder who could have done this," he murmured. "Who would dare attack Severus Snape?"
Severus just stared at Voldemort, knowing what was coming. He was already preparing himself, blocking out some of his memories and sorting out what he would show his master.
"Who did this, Severus?" Voldemort asked more clearly.
"I don't know, I can't remember," Severus said quietly. "I think... a certain Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry was involved. That's it, that's all."
"We shall see," Voldemort replied.
As the Dark Lord entered his mind, Severus gave him full access to his thoughts about Umbridge at Hogwarts. He allowed him to see pictures of her, allowed Voldemort to see his vision of the place where he had been held. He allowed him to hear the story he and Hagrid had made up to try to justify what he'd scarred. He tried to hide the images of the summer he spent at Sirius's house. He was partly successful. Voldemort could see the meetings with Dumbledore, he had a glimpse of the room where he had spent his convalescence, and then suddenly Sirius Black was in his field of vision, giving him potions. Voldemort abruptly left his mind and Severus fell back to his knees, struck by the intrusion into his mind.
"Well, Severus, it seems you have indeed told me the truth, that's good."
"Of course, my Lord," he replied breathlessly.
"Does this Umbridge know that you were a Death Eater?"
Severus, weakened by the Legilimency he had just endured, felt an unpleasant current running through his body.
"Perhaps, but not many people do, which is why I can spy on Dumbledore and the Order for you. Fudge knows about it."
"So why would she be interested in attacking you?"
"I don't know, My Lord, she wants to drive Dumbledore out of Hogwarts and take his place. Maybe she thought I could help her... I don't know."
"That won't get us very far, Severus," Voldemort said coldly. "I want to know what happened, and I want you to find out. I cannot afford to have a servant around who is so easily attacked. There is no place for the weak in my ranks, Severus, and I have great plans for you."
"I will not fail you, Master."
"You better not. My patience has its limits."
Severus bowed.
"Do you know where we are, Severus?"
"No, I don't," he replied, taken aback by the question.
"It's a Muggle house in Wales. I could have gone to Lucius and Narcissa's, of course, but I wanted to be somewhere where it was just the two of us. I didn't want to be disturbed."
"Disturbed, my Lord?"
"Yes, interrupted. I did not want the others to see your weaknesses, Severus. I want them to be able to obey you without question when the time comes. I want to protect you from those doubts."
Severus felt a knot of fear in his stomach. He knew he wouldn't get away with this. He was beginning to understand Voldemort's intentions and he couldn't help hoping that he had guessed wrong. But he hadn't. He saw the Dark Wizard raise his wand and the next thing Severus knew, every bone in his body was on fire. He fell to the ground and felt as if he ceased to exist, as if his limbs were falling away from him, as if a gigantic fire was sucking the life out of his body. He didn't scream at first. Then, when Voldemort lowered his wand for the first time, giving him a few seconds' respite, and then resumed the Cruciatus Curse, he could hold on no longer and let out a desperate, heartbreaking cry of pain.
Severus had no idea how long he had been subjected to the torture. But the pain of the Cruciatus Curse never went away, you never got used to it. By the time Voldemort seemed to think enough was enough, Severus was on the verge of fainting. But he knew he could not give in, he had to resist, his life was at stake and so was the wizarding world.
"Stand up," Voldemort told him.
Severus stifled a groan as he forced himself to his feet. His vision was blurred, he could feel his whole body aching, and after the burn of the spell he realised how cold he was. His thick, rain-soaked clothes clung to his skin and strands of his hair were smeared across his face like black blood. Panting, fighting with all the strength of his conviction not to cry out in pain, Severus faced Voldemort.
"I am rather pleased with you, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "You're resisting the Cruciatus Curse, but there's always a moment when you have to give in. It shows you are resilient, a quality I value."
"Thank... thank you, my Lord," Severus said painfully, swallowing the bloody saliva in his mouth.
"That will do for today. You know what to do, Severus. And try to show your face around Malfoy Manor more often, don't forget where your loyalties lie."
"I have not, my Lord. I will not fail you."
"You better not."
Trembling in every limb, Severus bowed once more, picked up his mask and pulled it over his face, then left the house, barely daring to believe it was over. As the door closed behind him, Severus was almost glad to find the icy rain falling on him like a thousand small wires. Everything hurts. He had glimpsed vague memories of Voldemort torturing him, the Cruciatus Curse awakening forgotten sensations. He was sure that Umbridge or her accomplices had used the spell on him, but strangely, he hadn't felt as much pain as he did tonight. No one could hurt him like Voldemort himself.
Severus stumbled several times along the sodden path, feeling hot tears trickle down his cheeks and mingle with the cold rain.
"Fuck," he swore, "fuck, I'm not weak."
He walked on, realising he couldn't control his sobs. A sudden rage gripped him, he had just survived an encounter with Voldemort and the Dark Lord trusted him. He laughed bitterly through his tears and when he was sure he was far enough away from the house to Apparate in peace, he stopped and caught his breath. He needed help and he was alone. He wondered what it would be like to be able to go somewhere safe, to know that somewhere thick, warm walls held safety just for him, to have people waiting for him to come back, worrying about him, looking forward to finding him. Severus had none of that, he liked his dormitory at Hogwarts, but he risked running into Umbridge at the castle, and his parents' old house held only bad memories, there was nowhere he could call home. But there was one place where he was sure he would find peace and where he knew no one would harm him. And that was the address he thought of as he used the last of his strength to turn and Apparate away.