Revenge isn't a state of mind

Severus had no one to describe the Dark Lord to, but if he did, he would have described the Dark Lord as what one would get if they combined a handsome man with a sphynx and a snake. Red eyes that were always predatory, with slit pupils that missed nothing. Lips that seemed to be a moment away from a secret, knowing smile. Pale skin like the stone ancient Egyptians had used to carve out their ode to their objects of worship, and to protect their pharaohs after death. Most of all, the man oozed deadly power, coiled and waiting, always silent and threatening. 

He was handsome, certainly- his dark hair elegantly coiffed, with chiseled cheekbones that would make a veela envious. Still, the power that saturated the air around him was heavy with danger. There was almost a vulgarity to it, and although Severus was cautious by nature, when around the Dark Lord he went to great lengths to keep his own power as hidden as possible, to be unobtrusive and unnoticed. He rarely spoke, and despite this, he seemed to receive an embarrassing amount of attention. Normally it made him uncomfortable, and was often a cause of unnecessary trouble, creating tension with other Death Eaters who frequently would lash out whenever they had the chance. This was one of the reasons Severus normally particularly disliked meetings. This time, however, was an exception. 

Lord Voldemort was presiding over a meeting of the inner and up-and-coming-almost-inner circle of Death Eaters. There were about thirty of them, seated at a long, rectangular table, with the dark lord at the head. None of the Death Eaters were wearing masks, which were only required for raids, and the more massive gatherings that included the unmarked. Despite popular perception, they weren’t intended to keep Auror’s from recognizing them; that was merely a bonus. Rather, it was to avoid intentional sabotage and backstabbing caused by the constantly shifting internal politics of the Inner Circle. When everyone was the same, it prevented foolish emotion-based efforts to save a friend or foil an enemy. Everyone was focused on a single task, and identity no longer mattered.

Severus was the newest of the Death Eaters, and hadn’t expected for their lord to motion for him to sit near him on the left. Shoving is discomfort away (it seemed… odd that someone as new and young as himself should be given such a choice seat) Severus refused to allow himself to be distracted by seating arrangement and power-play nonsense when he was presented with this opportunity to both take a long-awaited revenge and use his own cunning intelligence to further their movement.

Severus had suffered a great deal in his short twenty years, bore humiliation after humiliation, injustice after injustice, swallowed all of the bitterness and rage and compartmentalized all of the little and major grievances, knowing that someday, someday he would get his own. He now sat up straight, focusing his attention solely on the tall Dark Lord and his spidery hands, taking in every word and preparing his own.

“You might recall that I wanted ideas for a… distraction that aurors would priroritze this July. Severus has come to me with a proposal that I find… intriguing. Severus?” The Dark Lord brushed his black hair to the side as he waved for the newest Death Eater to speak.

“Yes my lord. I would like to take a group of predetermined colleagues-”

“We’re colleagues now?” Snorted a cold, low female voice. 

“Everyone at this table is here on my personal invitation. Do you question my judgment, Mrs. Rowle?” Though the Dark Lord’s pleasing tenor didn’t hold any malice in the lightly put question, the woman who had spoken flushed, while her husband next to her paled. 

“That was not at all my intention, my lord, my apologies. I’m simply not used to… I meant no disrespect to you or to my honorable colleagues.” She said the final word with deference. Severus didn’t need to smirk, simply tilted his head slightly, and at their leader’s lifted eyebrow, continued. 

“There is a shopkeeper, a man who sometimes supplies the ingredients that I cannot come by through my normal contacts located in Knockturn Alley. This man has many ties to magical law enforcement. Aurors he bribes to look the other way, judges and a number of solicitors he regularly socializes with… you get the idea. This… gentleman… has lately been disinclined to do business with anyone associated with our cause. He has claimed the risk is too great, that he would alienate his ‘long-time connections’.” Severus allowed his contemptuous sneer to briefly surface, and enjoyed the angry murmurings around the table. “This man has also been heard complaining about our movement when he has been drinking.” (This wasn’t exactly true- but Severus wanted to be sure that there would be no confusion about the man deserving what he would go through). “I think we could use him to send a clear message to others who have also been growing hesitant to support us. Not only that, I believe that with just a handful of us, we can create enough of a disturbance that the Aurors will find themselves impossibly short-handed should another… incident… require their attention. Beyond that, if we stick to the plan properly, I think we could even help fuel resentment for the current Minister and DMLE.”  Severus stopped, looking around the table. There was skepticism on most faces, the usual dislike and disdain for him personally, but also curiosity. 

“And what will happen to the handful of us creating this friendly diversion?” Questioned a voice that had a heavy Russian accent. 

“Mostly, those chosen will have an exciting evening.” Severus replied calmly, quirking a brow. 

“How do you expect to keep those helping with this ‘distraction’ from being taken by Aurors?” Questioned Rudolphus Lestrange.

“I will be relying on those that I know to have above-average dueling skills, and I expect that within half an hour of wands being out, we will be free to return whenever we feel like it. The necessary preparations have already been made. We just need to show up to make it clear that our actions are deliberate, and targeted by our Lord. The object of this will be to increase fear, as well as lower trust in the so called ‘law and order’ arm of our government. Thus, no one should be taking on more than they can handle, and the moment things begin to look as though we are outnumbered- which we will be, and rapidly- we will have accomplished our goal. I would recommend everyone having a portkey on them, that can be activated in case of an emergency. But should things run smoothly, and there is no reason for them not to, other than perhaps malicious incompetence, we should all return to a predetermined location safely. There will be no need for Gryffindor-esque ‘heroics’.”

“I am inclined to support this plan, unless anyone objects, or has a better idea?” The Dark Lord spoke calmly. No one dared say anything- though Severus himself was ambivalent, believed that His regard was something which constantly shifted and could never be taken for granted, everyone else at the table had noticed the constant and pointed attention given to Severus in particular, and while they resented it, they all had enough self-preservation not to say anything directly to either wizard. 

“Very good. And who would you like to take with you Severus?” 

“If they can be spared, I would request the assistance of Lucius Malfoy, Evan Rosier, Bellatrix and Rabastan and Rudolphus Lestrange, Regulus Black, Nathaniel Avery and Florentine Wilkes.” At this list, there was some shocked murmuring- Bellatrix (reciprocated) animosity towards Severus was a constant source of speculation and interest among the ranks. The Dark Lord, however, merely smirked, and looked pleased. 

“Very well. Tell me if there are any… issues before or during your activities. I expect you all to be on the ground by 7:30 pm on July 11th. At the time of the raid, I expect those chosen to follow Severus’ commands with the same diligence you would my own.” With that, they were dismissed.

~

Exactly a week later Severus was preparing for his chosen group to arrive in an old, abandoned barn, surrounded by hills and ground that had eroded over the years, becoming too rocky to farm. He’d been using this barn as a make-shift lab for a month- it was at a high enough elevation that it provided an excellent view out over the twinkling lights of wizarding london. Severus had initially been shocked when the Dark Lord had taken him there, much to the other’s evident amusement. He had explained that there was more land like this than anyone could keep track of- magical fields and hills, squeezed in between the muggle dwellings much like their wizarding community was invisibly situated between shops and streets of muggle London. Now it wasn’t just ideal for brewing- it would provide the perfect vantage to observe the chaos they would soon generate. 

Severus walked over to where there were temporary chairs transfigured from boulders. The chairs still had a stone look to them, but were satisfactory enough. He’d never been weak in any subject (except flying on a broom) but transfiguration was one which Severus had had to put in the greatest effort in, and enjoyed the least. It didn’t help that Potter and Black showed off non-stop, making the class unbearable… he shook his head, he would waste time thinking of the idiots who harangued him throughout his school days after he had settled scores with those who had left the deepest scarring. 

The first pop of apparition heralded both Evan Rosier and Regulus Black, Evan having side-alonged with Regulus. Regulus immediately approached one of the tables in the back. Carefully labeled and proportioned, Severus had put together precise concoctions for each of them to help enable a smoothness to the operation that might otherwise be lacking. 

“Reg, wait for everyone so we can all be on the same page, please.” Severus called out. Regulus was simply looking at the different shades of liquid, each labeled with a Death Eater’s name. 

“I don’t think Bellatrix is going to be happy about blindly taking anything you’ve brewed.” He commented casually, sauntering back to take a seat near Severus. “Speaking of which, what possessed you to invite any of the Lestranges, let alone the three absolute worst of the lot?!” 

“Exactly my question.” Evan piped in. Before Severus could answer, another apparition pop heralded the arrival of Nathaniel Avery, and seconds later he was followed by Florentine Mulciber. 

“Sev, you’ve got to be kidding me with this. Bellatrix? Bellatrix?! Have you lost your mind?!”

“I don’t believe I have, no. She and the two Rs are excellent duellists, that’s what matters for now.” Severus had a diluted calming potion that also provided electrolytes and potassium- something he’d designed in school when preparing for NEWTS, and had continued to use when he’d finally decided to cut back on some of the more addictive substances he’d grown accustomed to. These days, it was one of very few mood-altering potions he allowed himself, and even then, in minimal doses (raids of course being the exception). To the others, it had the look and scent of Earl Gray tea, which was just as well- he’d kept his addictions a secret, one of the few that he’d protected even against the worst of legilimency attacks. Now that he’d regained control over them, there was no need to deal with the difficulty that would inevitably plague him should anyone discover his previous lapses. He took a careful sip, then put the mug down. Before anyone else could follow up with what would no doubt be incredulous exclamations, three more pops echoed through the barn, as the three in question arrived, perfectly on time as well as synced. Say what one would about Bellatrix (and Severus had plenty to say) she kept Rudolphus and Rabastan well in check, and her own self-discipline and perfectionism with casting was positively influencing both brothers. 

Rudolphus walked forward, his expression scornful, even as Bellatrix eyed their surroundings with a great deal of contempt. Rabastan, however, had a slightly better idea of what they were doing, having been grilled for information by Severus earlier. He had a somewhat excited, almost eager air about him. 

Severus personally despised all three, the brothers a bit more than Bellatrix, but that was solely because of the unfortunate times he’d had run-ins with them as a student. In fact, had their time overlapped more in Hogwarts, perhaps they would have been equally detested as the Marauders. 

Severus had to assume that the Dark Lord understood that Severus was playing the longer game, and Severus had chosen them specifically because tonight would go a long way towards helping solidify his position in the on-going chess game that was life as a Death Eater.

Severus waved them into chairs, so that they were all facing him. He felt a bit like a professor as he waved his wand, creating a perfectly detailed map of Knockturn Alley. He made a slight jabbing motion with his wand (at this point, he had to remind himself to use a wand at all… but it helped to have others underestimate him). Where his wand had hit on the detailed, three-dimensional map, there was a slender building that didn’t seem to have a title, but had a steady stream of unsavory-looking individuals coming and going. 

“This will be the prime target. It won’t take long- the people who spend the most time there have an extremely inflated view of their own prowess with wards. I’ve already been in and out without them being the wiser. I think we will leave those wards up until we’ve concluded our business inside though. Myself, Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Evan will handle those within the building. They always have a large quantity of money on hand- of course, our Lord will expect most of it, but I’ve already been told that I can set aside what I deem reasonable as a bonus for a job well-done. It will be split evenly among you when we have safely returned to this spot, and our mission is complete.” Severus looked at each of them in the eyes as he spoke, wanting to be sure there was no miscommunication. On the map, the establishment was highlighted by a reddish glow. “Whilst we are inside and negotiating with the shop owner Mr. Harris, and whatever other miscreants happen to be there, Evan and Regulus will hold watch outside.” At this, the map showed two blue dots, clearly labeled as Regulus and Evan, and three orange dots with his own name and those of Rabastan and Bellatrix, all clearly labeled, inside the glowing building. “Meanwhile, Rudolphus, Florentine, and Nathaniel will be over here,” And he jabbed his wand at the map again, leaving three dots at the far end of Knockturn with their names below in differing shades of green. “There are explosives that have been placed here, here, here, and here. Also here.” The indicated locations glowed obligingly on his map… they made a perfect outline of a trail leading towards the main destination. “They’re not meant to injure anyone, simply to get attention. They can only be activated with a word after 7:15 pm. That word is ‘Basilisk’. Between 7:15 to 7:30, the three of you should have had time to meet us a dragon’s length before the entrance to Diagon. By this point, you will all want to have your masks and robes in place, since you won’t have energy to spare maintaining other spells to cloak yourselves. Plus as aurors will have figured out it’s an attack by then they should be looking for us. We’d hate to disappoint them.” Severus smirked, and saw the amused appreciation in his friends eyes. “This is when Lucius will also be joining us. He will be portkeying in with multiple golems dressed as Death Eaters. They’re not especially useful except as shields, but since the point of this is to keep the aurors distracted, we’ll want to at least pretend to defend them. But they’re low priority, mostly meant to help our illusion of attacking en-masse. Once we are in place, I’ll activate a spell on these,” And here, Severus handed out fist-sized oak seeds. “The tops will pop off of them when I’ve set the spell, and that will be your indicator to begin setting off the explosives and moving towards us. These are also emergency portkeys to this location- they are time-activated, so if you haven’t gotten yourself here by 8:15, you will be transported by portkey. There will be no one remaining. I’m sure you’re all aware of the efforts being made to capture Death Eaters dead or alive. This ensures that they are not successful. And warding against this type of locus magic is especially difficult and time consuming and almost certainly will not be inhibiting this magic, so even if somehow you end up surrounded and wandless, just buy yourself time and you’ll find yourself back here. Also, remember that the aurors have been especially aggressive lately- more than once they’ve been the cause of civilian casualties. If at all able, try to play the ‘guiding shepherd’ and provide any civillians who happen to be out with an avenue of escape. We might as well make ourselves look good while we make the DMLE look bad. Any questions?” Severus looked at them all, and was pleased that everyone seemed to understand and accept the plan. Waving his wand, Severus left the map up while summoning the tray with the potions he’d prepared for each person on it. 

“I’ve taken the liberty to put these together. Each is tailored to you individually. Mostly, they help your brain excrete more dopamine, while balancing your magical core. The result is a feeling of confidence, energy, and a heightened sensitivity to your surroundings.” He left out that he’d also changed the chemical formula on the concoctions for the Lestranges to slightly reduce aggression and anger. It wasn’t enough for them to noticeably feel it, but knowing them as he did, he didn’t want them to be distracted by insults. Taking one of the glass tube-shaped vials, he  raised his potion expectantly. The others had already stood, and obligingly took their own glasses and clinked them against his. After downing the mixture in a single swallow, and with a deeply skeptical expression, Bellatrix paused, and actually smiled.

“Well Snape, for once you’ve made something that doesn’t smell like a week-long dead muggle and taste even worse. I’m impressed.” Though the words were sardonic and her smile was mocking, it was clear Bellatrix was actually already feeling the potion and pleased with it. Years of experimenting with various substances to decrease absorption time while also thinning the blood (and thus more rapidly breaching the blood brain barrier) had paid off dividends with various bases that could be applied to nearly every potion that was orally ingested. Severus merely inclined his head, his own heart rate having increased, his senses all enhanced, and a mild euphoria setting in. There was murmured consensus from the two male Lestranges, and more cordial accolades added by the others. With a quick nod, Severus took out his own wand, raised his hand to count down five seconds, and then they all apparated to the locations pointed to on the map, leaving only smoke as the image disappeared at the same time as the wixen. 

~

Severus arrived in the narrow spot on the side of the building that was too narrow to be called a proper alley. It was warmer in the city than in the drafty old barn, but also considerably more humid. The darkening atmosphere promised a harsh summer rain any minute. Glancing around, he saw Bellatrix and Rabastan already moving towards the front door, Regulus had appeared on the opposite side as himself- he wouldn’t need to move, it was an ideal lookout point. He had felt Evan arrive right behind him, and gave him a quick squeeze on his shoulder before leaving him to his watch and rapidly heading to the entrance while sliding his mask into place, following a calculated step just behind the already masked Bellatrix and Rabastan. 

Entering the small, dimly lit main floor of the shop, his lip curled in disgust. There was a round table in the center of the room, curtains blocking off both the doorways and a set of stairs in the back. Along the narrow sides of the shop were framed, blurry photographs, ostensibly of landscapes. There were two shelves running parallel to each other, guiding those who entered towards the round table. The shelves had no clear or logical order, and held a multitude of materials, from potions and ingredients to various illegal objects, skulls, and even a taxidermied werewolf head. Severus was disgusted to see an overlap in several ingredients that would render all of them worse than useless. Such incompetence alone warranted a harsh reprisal, and he allowed himself to lean into the shiver of anticipation. 

At the round table sat three adults, all leaning over pictures and drinking. The one in the middle was fat, the one to the left skinny with brown hair and acne scars, and the one to the right looked like his entire body was one large muscle. The man in the center leapt up in surprised anger, the other two moved clumsily to cover the pictures they’d been viewing, spilling firewhisky as they did so. The standing man, Mr. Harris, had a face covered with dragon pox scars, an excess of graying facial hair, and eyebrows that looked like they might crawl off of his drink-reddened face. His robes were a plain brown but the excess of gems on each of his fingers spoke of a vanity and access to funds that would seem impossible for an otherwise cheap, falling apart shop. 

“What are you doing here, we’re closed!” The man’s voice had a wheeze to it that Severus remembered all too well, and he clearly had to struggle to raise his voice to a volume above a whisper, which made Severus smirk behind his mask, eyeing the scar on the man’s neck he’d left as a teenager.

“I don’t think you are. Case in point, here we are, inside your shop, and there you are, apparently conducting… business?” Bellatrix was always particularly terrifying when she took on that playful tone, and for once Severus found himself appreciating it. 

“This is a private shop, I operate on my own hours, and do business with whomever I choose. Get out!” The man was obviously drunk and almost spitting in rage. 

“With an attitude like that, how can you ever expect to make any money? It’s rude, is what it is.” Rabastan said plaintively from next to Bellatrix. Candlelight was gleaming off of both their masks, making them appear even more sinister. Bellatrix nodded her head in earnest agreement with her brother-in-law.

“We’d heard that you lacked manners Mr. Harris, but I’d rather hoped it was just bad information. Such a pity.” Her mournful tone was even more terrifying than the previous playful one, and a hint of worry was beginning to bloom on the otherwise outraged, inebriated faces. One of the men tried to move out from around the table, but with a movement too quick to see, Bellatrix had her wand raised, a spell hitting the man before he could blink.

“Now, now, just because you lack manners, doesn’t mean we do. Really, no need to get up.” Bellatrix stepped daintily forward, spinning her wand nonchalantly in her left hand. 

“Of course, it is polite to stand when greeting a lady.” Rabastan offered, his own wand now trained on the other customer, who was jerked from the chair where he’d been desperately trying to gather the photos and turn them face down. Upon being hauled upside down in the air, the pictures scattered around him rendering his efforts useless. Rabastan tsk’d, and left the man hanging as he elegantly moved towards him, stooping and picking up one of the photographs. Upon turning it up, he flashed it over to give Bellatrix and Severus a clear view. As Severus had expected, a young child- perhaps 10- engaged in fellatio with a man wearing a hideous mask that had bull-like horns. 

Knowing what he was likely to come across, Severus had every facial tic locked down despite wearing a mask, his shoulders remained straight but not tense, and his tone was even as he tilted his head to the side.

“Hm. Much like the majority of wares for sale on the shelves, your pictures are useless. Difficult to imagine anyone enjoying that, although you three… degenerates have apparently no end of appetite for the grotesque and depraved.”

“And you Death Eaters are just shining examples of purity and virtue?” Snarled Mr. Harris. 

“We are certainly shining examples of civility, compared to you three louts.” Rabastan retorted looking bored.

“Enough. Your colleagues are going to spend some quality time with mine, as it seems they could benefit from an impromptu etiquette lesson. You, Mr. Harris, will be coming with me.” Severus' voice was perfectly controlled, and dangerous. A silent imperius curse ensured the man’s cooperation, and seeing that he was following the third Death Eater without complaint, the other two men fell silent. Severus made a hand motion at Bellatrix- none of these three would leave this building alive. For a second, he could have sworn even her mask smiled back at him.

~

15 minutes might not seem like enough time to properly torture someone, especially if one wants to avoid utilizing the cruciatus curse, but Severus always had been ambitious and regularly shattered records of all sorts. After climbing the stairs, they entered what served as his main apartment, and Mr. Harris found himself floating directly in front of the Death Eater, about a foot off the ground. Trying to keep his simmering rage in check behind his occlumency, Severus looked around the filthy room- it had a high, vaulted ceiling, and clearly served as the man’s living quarters, as there was both a bedroom and a desk, and the entryway across from where they were currently positioned almost certainly led to a kitchenette and restroom. 

A sharp movement of his hand, and an agonized howl ripped through the room. Evan and Regulus would have already set up silencing charms around the outside of the shop, and hearing the notoriously ruthless leader would only serve to help make the last minutes of life even more terrifying for the other two. It was a shame that more of this group of men weren’t there, but Severus had dedicated plenty of time to observing this small criminal enterprise. He would get the others, it wouldn’t be difficult. The hunt might even be fun. 

The man in front of him was now missing his eyelids, blood pouring from where the spell had ripped them off his face. Letting out a dramatically annoyed sigh, Severus commented, “Well, you won’t be able to appreciate this nearly as much if your vision is compromised.” And he again waved his hand- the blood continued flowing, but now went around his eyes as though the eyeballs were protected by invisible, miniature umbrellas. 

Perhaps, at some point in his life, the sheer terror on the man’s face would have been satisfying. Instead, Severus felt distant, and this made him feel as though he’d been robbed of something important. Lazily, Severus moved casually around the room, and after muttering a few words, the air seemed to ripple, and several wards evaporated as if they’d never existed. In their place were framed, moving photographs of nude children, some crying, all doing things no child had any business doing. Severus opened the locked cabinet that had emerged effortlessly- removing more photographs, and a camera. Disgusted, he flipped through the photos. Each child had a brand on their lower left back- small, just a letter or two and a number, which had been painfully burnt into their skin. Severus intimately knew how painful that had been. Holding up one photograph, he put it in front of the man. “I’ve wondered often, what exactly was the purpose of this?” His voice was low, almost friendly. He smirked as the main tried to speak, and realized that each word was agonizing. Waving his hand, Severus lifted the silent curse he’d applied to the man’s larynx, then motioned for him to hurry up and answer his question. 

“The… the letters represent the town, the number is just to help keep track of them- sometimes the people who receive the pictures want more, so we have to know which ones they want.”

“I noticed none of these go above the number ten. Why is that?”

“It’s… it’s just to help reduce the pain, you know, limit how much we have to hurt them.” 

This time Severus didn’t move, but the man's head rocked to the side as the other’s magic lashed out against him. Then, involuntarily, the man felt his head turning back and found himself staring into dark pits that maybe were the Death Eater’s eyes. And then suddenly there was a pressure inside his head, and for a moment, the man lost consciousness.

Clenching his fists, Severus forced himself back under control, his emotions back behind his occlumency. Of course this idiot would try to lie, no reason to waste any time talking to him. It was amateurish to bother with engaging him with actual questions when he could just take the information. 

Of course, the things he’d seen in the man’s mind made his stomach churn, his skin crawl, and he would have given a lot to avoid seeing them. But he couldn’t let emotions cloud things right now, as he was on a tight schedule. Severus stalked through the other entryway, past the kitchenette and into the bathroom. There, as he’d expected, was a make-shift photography studio, other pictures sitting in the viscous potion that gave photographs life. Disgusted, Severus flicked his wrist towards the back corner, and a small flame started to eat away at one of the pictures that was carefully hanging along a string. Severus pulled a small vial out of his pocket, put it gently in the sink, then with a quick wand movement, slammed the bathroom door shut and returned to the man he’d left floating in the bedroom, the bathroom mirror trailing behind him. 

A stinging hex, and the man was again awake, gasping. Severus placed the mirror across from the man, so he was staring at his own reflection. Then Severus, whistling, picked up the camera and took a picture of the man. The man was babbling a nonsensical mixture of curses, pleas, threats and empty bargains at him. Severus kept a relaxed grip on his wand, and spelled the man’s clothes off. Then, he began the process of skinning the man alive, graceful movements of his wand peeling off large, uninterrupted swathes of skin. The man stopped trying to get out words, howling incoherently in agony, unable to look away as his body was rapidly being mutilated. At about the halfway mark, Severus paused, taking a moment to take a few pictures of the man with the camera. Then, when he deemed the skinning to have been adequately done (it only took six minutes, the process an elegant economy of movement, the sort one can only develop from years of potion ingredient preparations. 

A slight frown, and a blood coagulation spell to prevent Mr. Harris from dying of blood loss, and then with a wave of his wand, Severus forced the floating, raw body ahead of him as he went back to downstairs shop. 

Apparently, Bellatrix had decided to cast her own silencing spells. Severus wasn’t exactly surprised that the two he’d left with her were still alive, but he was surprised they appeared in better condition than his own victim. And clearly, both Bellatrix and her brother were equally shocked at what they were looking at. 

“We have about two minutes before we should head out, we do have a schedule to keep, after all.” Severus spoke completely casually, as though they were all simply finishing up bowls of ice cream. The other two both stood still in surprise for a moment, then both began casting some of the nastier curses in the repertoire on the victims. They were supposed to be the torture experts, after all. While they focused on their prey, Severus cast several flame and damage prevention spells on one corner of the shop, then stuck Mr. Harris to that corner of the ceiling, so he was looking out facing the entrance. A simple spell to remove the man’s vocal cords, and then Severus picked up the camera and took a picture of the man he’d left paralyzed against the the corner where the wall met the ceiling. Lastly, he threw a stasis spell followed by an illusionment charm on the now skinless man, connecting it to the camera. The moment someone touched it, the man trapped on the wall would start to bleed to death. 

Eventually, they would find his corpse, possibly even before they developed the pictures, though Severus hoped not. But either way, the man would suffer, fully aware of his surroundings and paralyzed until someone touched the camera, after which the anticoagulation potion Severus had spelled into his stomach in a time-delayed capsule would activate, and he would bleed to death in about twenty seconds. Casting powerful wards to prevent fire or water damage on the camera, he placed it on the floor below the man, and then turned to his companions. Just as they were casting the death curse (simultaneously- they did like to do things in synchrony, perhaps it was a manifestation of Bellatrix’ obsessive-compulsive disorder) Regulus had thrown open the door, and was calling them. Regulus words seemed to be caught in his mouth, and he stared at what was left of the three men- his eyes widening in shock, as he took in the one Severus had skinned alive. Scowling, Severus tossed a couple of more spells on top of the first one, so the man was well and truly hidden. 

“Well?” Severus asked his friend. Regulus swallowed, and after several false starts, stammered out, “First two explosions have gone off, and it sounds like the others are already facing off with aurors.” 

“We’d best get going then, yeah?” Rabastan said, a cheerful bounce in his step as he and Bellatrix rushed to follow Regulus out of the shop. Severus paused only to snatch up a pouch from under the store counter, which he had discovered in the shop-owners mind. Then, with a last glimpse around the shop, Severus followed the others, muttering “Basilisk” as he stepped rapidly through the door and out into the heavy rain. A deafening explosion shattered the glass of even the surrounding buildings, and glancing back, Severus saw with satisfaction that the only thing remaining of the shop was the skeleton of it’s foundation and first floor, along with the corner where eventually the owner would be discovered. 

~