Mist and Vapors

The Portkey deposited Snape outside an abandoned farmhouse. He couldn't see anyone around, yet he knew he was being watched. Pettigrew, after all, knew exactly where he would rematerialize after the Portkey whisked him away from Hogwarts; he was sure that since his arrival there hadn't been a second when there hadn't been a wand trained on him.

"I am here, Pettigrew," he called out harshly. "No need to play hide and seek - I know you are there."

"Well, it appears that maybe you don't know everything," an amused voice came from behind the half-opened door of the farmhouse. "Imagine that. - Hullo, Snape. Long time no see." Hannigan, nonchalantly twiddling his wand in his right hand, stepped through the doorway.

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously as his fingers tightened around the handle of his wand. "You."

Hannigan smiled his shark's smile. "Oh, this is actually a team effort. I have Pettigrew upstairs, a wand tip to Hannah's throat, and should you choose, for example, to cause any kind of fuss instead of handing over your wand like a good boy...well, let's just say it won't be pleasant for her. - So, if you would be so kind as to drop your wand?"

Standing motionlessly, Snape stared at his smiling nemesis, trying to decide what to do. He could be bluffing - Hannigan might just have her tied up somewhere, and Wormtail might not be involved at all. But Lupin had seemed quite certain about the note being in Pettigrew's handwriting. And, he thought bitterly, the man would know; he still had Snape's name traced along his arm in faint white lines, scars remaining from when Pettigrew had burned his message into the werewolf's skin. Another option would be to try and overpower Hannigan - not a venture certain of success by any means; Hannigan was a strong wizard. Yet even if he should succeed and thus acquire his own hostage, he seriously doubted that Pettigrew would care more about the beefy Auror's fate than about getting even.

"Having doubts?" Hannigan said with mock sympathy. "Don't be. Look up there." He pointed up with his left hand, while his wand and his eyes stayed firmly trained on Snape.

For a second, Pettigrew appeared in the dormer window that overlooked the entrance, just long enough to smile, wave, and disappear.

The last dregs of hope drained away. They had her; that much was clear from the engagement ring in his pocket. And he couldn't risk her life by Apparating away - they would have left before he ever came back, and he would find nothing when he returned. If he was lucky. What he would find as a worst-case scenario...he shuddered inwardly. No, there were no good options - but then he had known when he had summoned the Portkey that he would arrive in a situation where the odds of success were in someone else's favor. If he cooperated, at least there was the ghost of a chance that they would actually let her go.

His face cold and hard, he let his wand drop to the ground. "It appears I don't have much of a choice in the matter," he said harshly.

A second later, the wand had flown into Hannigan's hand. The beefy Auror lifted his wand. "Petrificus totalus!" He walked over to where Snape had fallen, and crouched down next to him until only inches separated Snape's face from his. "Look at you," he crooned. "Right where I have wanted you for years - at my mercy, at the end of my wand. - Silencio." He ran the tip of his wand down the ridge of Snape's nose. "I can't tell you how glad I am to know that this is the last time I'll ever have to look at your ugly visage." The wand tip continued down over his chin, across his throat, until it ended at his chest, right over his heart. "Just one word from me, Snape, and your heart would stop," he said softly. "But that would be too merciful a death..." He paused for a moment, gloating, and then got up with a sigh, knees creaking. "But I suppose I'd better get you inside. I promised Pettigrew his moment with you."

An almost careless flick of the wand, and Snape floated ahead of him until he was unceremoniously deposited on the wooden floor. Hannigan pointed his wand at the door, and it sealed itself with a gentle, squelching sound. "Pettigrew, you can come down now," he called through a door that led to a narrow hallway. "And bring my daughter."

They were in a room that had once been a combination kitchen/dining/living-room. A moth-eaten sofa, a few of its springs poking through the ratty upholstery, stood in front of the cold fireplace; a huge cast-iron stove, rusted in places, fitted neatly into a corner; and a stoneware sink, cracked and chipped, was still attached to the wall; other than that, the room was empty. Boarded-up windows blocked out the day; the only source of light was the flickering flame of a kerosene lamp sitting on the cold stove.

There was the noise of feet shuffling upstairs, and then a clunking as someone made his way down some stairs. Pettigrew came into view through the interior doorway, levitating Hannah behind him, trying to negotiate the narrow corridor. "This would be a whole lot easier if we could just let her walk," he said with a grunt. "Really, is this necessary?"

"It is," Hannigan said shortly, as at his command the sofa slid back and against the wall so that it faced the middle of the room. "Put her on there," he said gruffly. "I want her to have a front-row view of events."

Closing the door behind him, Pettigrew looked around the room with a wrinkled nose as he lowered Hannah onto the sofa. "I used to live here, you know. Hard to imagine now. I could have easily left the country - run up a mooring line in some port town somewhere and hitched a ride on a ship. But I was waiting for this moment, right here, right now. I swore I wouldn't rest until Snape got his due." His lips pulled back from teeth that seemed too big for his mouth. "Finally, it's time." He grinned down at Hannah. "So you're going to make her watch as we take care of Snape? I like the way you think."

Hannigan pointed a thick finger at the bruises under his eyes. "I told her she would pay for this. And she will." He crouched down next to the sofa, and, placing his wand tip under her chin, tilted it up to look at him. "I was going to spare you, to just keep you someplace safe until it was over," he said softly. "But now you will watch. By the time we are through, you will beg me to Obliviate you, to make you forget. You just wait."

Severus had watched as Pettigrew brought her in. She smiled as soon as she saw him, a wobbly, watery smile, her eyes soft with love and fear. Her mouth and cheek were swollen, and there was a crust of dry blood around a deep cut in her lip. Red anger threatened to cloud his vision again. How dare they touch her. But Hannigan's face was bruised as well - he had been fine when he had last seen him at the Ministry. Hannah apparently had not been content in the role of helpless victim. Pride mingled with self-loathing as their eyes met. He was the wizard. It had been his responsibility to keep her safe, and he had failed. And now they were both caught like mice in a trap, and there was nothing he could do for her. Nothing at all.

Briefly, he closed his eyes. Who was he to think he might have actually, for once, found something worth keeping? What hubris... No, obviously fate had decreed that he was not yet done paying for his sins.

Hannigan's voice pulled him out of his bitter thoughts. He had risen from his earlier position and was holding out Snape's wand to Pettigrew.

"...what do you want me to do with this? Do you want it?"

Pettigrew shook his head. "You should use it; that way they can't track any...unfortunate spell to your own wand." He grinned widely. "With my wand it doesn't really matter. There is enough incriminating evidence contained within to quite condemn me already, I'm afraid."

Hannigan nodded, pocketed his own wand, and gave Snape's an experimental swish. Small sparks shot out from the tip. "I think it will do nicely," he said with a satisfied smile. He turned to his daughter. "I'll lift the spell for a moment, and you will sit up. I want you to be able to see well. And just a reminder - try anything funny again and he," a beam shot from the wand tip and hit Severus in the right shoulder, "will pay the price."

Hannah flinched as she watched Severus' eyes flicker in pain as the spell hit him. Not wanting to incite further retribution, she sat up carefully, her insides churning. As soon as she was upright, she could feel her legs freeze into position again.

Seeing him had unleashed a torrent of emotion. There was sheer terror at seeing him stiff and helpless on the floor. There were waves of guilt - it was her fault that he was here. There was anger at her father, and anger at Pettigrew, and even anger at Severus - why did he have to be so insufferably heroic? What had he thought to accomplish by coming? - and yet mixed in with all the anger and guilt, sadness, love, and terror had been a small current of gratefulness. If it had to end, at least she would be with him. That had lasted until she had seen the pain in his eyes, and the reality of her father's threat hit her in the face. He is going to suffer cruelly, and they will savor every moment. And they will make me watch. Her stomach lurched, and she felt like she was going to be ill.

Pettigrew walked over to Severus and lifted his wand.

"What do you think you are doing?" Hannigan asked, turning brusquely.

"Lifiting the Silencing spell. You don't expect me to...experiment while he is under a body-bind and a Silencio? Where is the fun in that?"

"You will do no such thing. We can't afford to have someone hear him scream. Who knows who might be out there - there are other farms nearby. The last thing I need is unwelcome visitors."

Pettigrew's face took on a stubborn expression. "That wasn't part of the deal as I remember it. You have to let him react." He cast a quick glance at Hannah. "Do you really think she is going to be impressed by a few silent winces?" His voice turned wheedling. "Come on now, Frank. Just a few minutes."

"No." Hannigan's voice was uncompromising. "You will keep him silent. We can lift the body-bind, though."

"And give him a chance to fight back or run away?" Pettigrew said impatiently. "Maybe you don't know Snape as well as I do. But that isn't a good idea."

"There is a solution to that." The Auror moved over to Snape. "Incapacitate him. I'll lift the body-bind, and we both cast the Cruciatus. On three."

Pettigrew grinned up at him. "Now you're talking."

The two wizards stepped back, making certain to give Hannah a clear field of view. "One..." They lifted their wands. "Two..." She could see the rigidity leave Severus' limbs, could see him try to roll off to the side, looking for cover of any kind. "Three!"

"Crucio!" The word came from both throats, and Severus fell back, twitching, writhing, his face contorted, mouth open, screaming soundlessly. Hannah was not even aware of the tears running down her face as she looked on, hands clenched into fists so tightly that her nails were sending shooting pains up her arm. She remembered only too well the agonythat came from just one person casting the curse. Please, no... With her voice silenced, she could not even shout, curse, beg. Nothing. Nothing but watch as he twisted in pain, her father looking on with grim satisfaction while Pettigrew's mouth distorted into a demented, pleased smile.

The minutes seemed endless, but finally they lifted the curse, first her father, then Pettigrew, leaving Severus on the ground, chalky-white, twitching, and covered in sweat. For a fraction of a second, he looked at her, his eyes dark and bleak, and then turned his head away sharply. He hates for me to have to see him this way, she thought, a cold, hard pain in her stomach. But she couldn't not watch. Watching hurt in a visceral, gut-twisting way, but it was torment that left her feeling as if at least they were in this together, somehow sharing the pain. If I could trade places with you, I would, she thought, looking at his turned head with aching compassion.A corner of her mouth twitched in a bittersweet smile at the thought. As if you would let me...

"There," Pettigrew said in satisfaction. "That should keep him under control. He isn't going anywhere for a while." He crouched down a few feet away from Severus, and held his wand out in front of him, closing one eye, the way an artist would hold out a paintbrush in front of him to judge perspective and dimension. "What next? Something with a bit more...finesse. I have perfected the Adflictatio, you know," he said, looking up at Hannah. "Quite painful. Tickles the nerve endings beautifully. Where should we start? A joint? A kidney? A tooth?" He grinned up at Hannigan. "Too bad you don't want physical damage; otherwise...a Squib, an Imperio, and maybe a pair of pliers - now there's an idea!"

"You leave my daughter out of it." Frank's face was stony.

"Fine, fine." Peter lifted his hands placatingly. "It was just an idea. - All right then, a tooth." He pointed his wand tip to Snape's face, and was instantly rewarded when Severus curled up, clutching his jaw with hands that still trembled from the Cruciatus. "Maybe the stomach next?" For a few minutes, he worked his way over different body parts. There was a nightmarish, otherworldly quality to this reality, to this silent torture in this darkened room, with the lamp casting flickering shadows along the walls. Hannah didn't know what would have been worse - to actually hear Severus moaning or screaming, or to continue in this eerie silence, as the twisting and turning of his body told of terrible pain and yet the only sounds in the room were Peter's voice, naming the next part to be targeted with clinical detachment, and Severus' gasping, choking breaths.

Pettigrew, at least, didn't seem to be satisfied with his victim's nearly soundless suffering. After only a few minutes, he straightened up. "That's enough of that," he said abruptly. He turned business-like towards Hannigan. "How long will it take for...it to get here?"

"Not very long. A couple minutes."

"All right then. Summon it." There was a greedy smile on Pettigrew's face. "I know you have waited for this moment even longer than I have. It is time."

Hannigan nodded. "It's time."

He performed a complicated incantation, drawing figures in the air and muttering words that she couldn't hear but that made her feel chilled to the core. Finally, Hannigan stepped back with a satisfied nod. "It'll be here soon."

"Good." Pettigrew rubbed his hands together. "I really can't wait. But before it comes, should we..." He stopped short. "Did you hear that? It couldn't be here yet, could it?"

"No," Hannigan said with irritation. "I don't think so. What now?"

"I don't know. Something outside." He walked over to the front door. It wouldn't open. "Would you kindly take the seal off the door?" Pettigrew said impatiently. "I don't have time for this."

Hannigan pointed his wand with a mock bow and a condescending smile. "At your service." Pettigrew stopped for a moment, his ear close to the door, listening. Frank huffed in annoyance.

"Shhh." Pettigrew put his finger to his lips

"I don't hear anything..."

"I said be quiet." Warily, wand in hand, Pettigrew opened the door a crack. Still nothing. He opened it a little further and listened again. "I know I heard..."

At that moment, something furry and gray streaked between his legs, dashing across the floor and disappearing under the sofa. "A cat," he hissed. "I hate cats." He closed the door with a snap.

"So that is what you heard," Hannigan said with a grin. "Oh, come now, in a place like this there must be dozens of abandoned barn cats roaming the neighborhood. Surely you aren't going to be bothered by one flea-bitten feline, Wormtail?"

Pettigrew had got down on hands and knees and was attempting to peer into the narrow space beneath the sofa. A dust-ruffle that reached all the way to the floor blocked his view. He stuck out a hand to move the fabric, hesitated, then thought better of it and instead fired off a blind spell at the invisible creature. Hannah could feel the cat dashing around, bumping into the springs beneath her.

Hannigan was laughing out loud now. "Shouldn't you open that door again, Wormtail? At least that way your cat can leave if it wants to." He watched in amusement as Wormtail flinched at the word. "Cat. You really don't like them much, do you? I wonder why..." He turned with a quick grin to where Snape had rolled over on his side and was painfully, trembling all over, trying to get up. A second later, he was back on the floor, his limbs locked. "You better stop fussing about the cat and start paying attention to old Snape here."

Beneath her, Hannah could feel the cat struggling in one spot, jerking and bumping against the underside of the sofa. Can't get out either, can you? she thought distractedly. Caught, just like us. Poor beast.

.-.-.-

Severus lay on his back, stunned by more than the spell. He knew that cat. How she had got here, he didn't know. But here she was. And maybe she wasn't alone...for a moment, there was piercing hope...

And then...

The light in the room seemed to fade, growing steadily dimmer as darkness crawled into the room in writhing, sinuous tendrils. The temperature, already cold, dropped by several degrees. There was a faint rustle as something slowly came down the chimney. With a soft sputtering noise, the lamp went out entirely. All hope drained away. In his head, he heard his father's voice, shouting. 'You'll never amount to anything, you pathetic nothing...' He had been right, of course. What had he been thinking? His one regret was having dragged Hannah into all of this. He should have never let her get tangled up with him, should have warned her that he had the opposite of the Midas touch, that everything he touched turned to soot and ashes and gall... He heard Hannigan whisper 'Lumos' and in the sudden faint glow of the wand tip he saw the creature gliding towards him, towering, hooded, a living nightmare. And then the beastly thing was leaning over him, lowering itself until it knelt next to him. He could smell its putrid breath as it bent down low, mouth open, slowly, gently, lovingly, to Kiss him. You deserve this...a voice said. You know you do.... He closed his eyes in surrender; it would be over now, over soon...

And then the voice in his head stopped.

He opened his eyes in surprise. The dementor had lifted its head as if listening. And then it straightened up. And made right for Hannah.

.-.-.-.

When the dementor arrived, she had known what it was. She didn't have to see the creature to feel the darkness and dampness and despair that seemed to follow those vilest of the Ministry's servants. They were going to have him Kissed. Oh God, no. No. Somewhere beneath her, she could still hear the cat scrambling feverishly to get out, to get away. The noise seemed far removed as she focused on the horror in front of her, soundlessly shouting at it to stop, to leave him be. He isn't for you, her mind screamed. He's mine. You can't have him. And then something changed. It was as if that...that thing out there was listening. She could feel its intent change, as the darkness seemed to condense into one spot even more pitch black than the rest of the room. And then that spot began to slowly glide towards her.

Vaguely, from far away, she heard her father shouting. She hid her face in her hands, shuddering and shaking, and then felt something slimy cold begin to pry them away, inch by inch. Despair dragged at her like a physical weight, leaden on her limbs. An icy hand caressed her face. As you wish, a dead, quiet voice said in her head, softly, mesmerizing. I'll have you, then. I'll have you first. Don't be afraid...at least you won't be left behind, alone...The black thing seemed to surround her, so cold it was freezing her skin, freezing her breath, and there was nothing left but deathly terror...

"Expecto Patronum!"

The darkness was broken by a silvery-white form that broke from the tip of her father's wand. Something like a huge, glowing bulldog, charging the dementor, teeth bared, driving it backward, inch by inch, until finally, with a flapping of robes, the creature slid back up the chimney, the silvery dog following behind. The unnatural darkness faded. With a soft puff, the lamp sprang back to life. The cat finally burst out from underneath her, threads hanging around its neck. It looked around, disoriented, and then ran back under the sofa.

Her father, pale and shaking, was leaning against the stove.

"What did you do that for?" Wormtail screeched irately, stomping his foot. "You chased it away!"

"I couldn't..." Frank swallowed, and visibly pulled himself together. "It was one of my conditions that my daughter would remain unharmed," he said, pulling himself to his full height. "Until I decide what to do with her."

"But it wasn't done with Snape yet! You promised me the Dementor's Kiss for him! You promised!"

Hannah let out a slow, shuddering breath as the cloud of despair left in the wake of the dementor lifted. She looked over towards Severus, who lay motionlessly on the floor, eyes closed. She wasn't able to tell if the dementor had succeeded, or if he was simply still caught in the body-bind. She hoped and prayed with all that was within her that in this case, Wormtail was right, that it didn't have time to finish...

"I don't know what happened," Hannigan said, confusion on his face. "It was supposed to go after Snape..."

Pettigrew threw his hands up in exasperation. "Well, it didn't. So much for your dementor." He walked over, and nudged Snape's leg with his boot tip. "How does it feel, Snape, to know that your soul is too black and blighted even for a dementor's taste? I guess it felt your lady would make a better meal..."

Severus opened his eyes at that, glittering black and full of hate. Hannah drew a sobbing breath of relief.

Pettigrew had turned back to Hannigan. ""Well, can you get another one?" he complained. "That was your part of the bargain."

"I did what I could," Hannigan said shortly. Briefly, his eyes flitted over to Hannah. "She looks too much like her mother," he muttered softly, his face drawn. "I couldn't let it..."

He straightened up, glaring at Pettigrew. "It was agreed that you would finish off what the dementor left, wasn't it? So just go and kill him now. I'm tired of waiting. Things seem to have a tendency to go wrong when Snape is involved. So go do it now."

"No." Pettigrew looked like a petulant little boy. "If you can't get him Kissed, then I should have the right to at least amuse myself a little longer."

Hannigan had pulled out Snape's wand and stood next to his supine body. "Either you do it, or I will. Now."

"Fine, then." With a pout, Pettigrew brandished his wand and walked in a circle around Snape's body. He turned to Hannah with a leering grin. "You better pay attention now. You wouldn't want to miss this." He took a few steps towards her, stopping just out of arm's reach, then turned his back, facing Severus. "Watch now."

She was watching. Her eyes locked with Severus'. She smiled through the tears and mouthed "I love you" at him, and there was just the hint of a crinkle around his eyes, enough to let her know he had seen and understood. In the middle of the nightmare, there was a moment of perfect quiet, of peace.

Pettigrew had seen. "Keep looking at him, then; look into his eyes," he said. "Go ahead. Don't miss the moment when he ceases to exist, the traitor. You can tell, you know, the exact second the soul leaves..." He sounded excited now, thrilled. He lifted his wand dramatically. Frank Hannigan took a couple steps back, away from Snape's motionless form. "AVADA KEDA--"

Hannah could hear the quiet movement of a small, furry body. On velvet paws, the cat had jumped silently up on the sofa next to her, behind Pettigrew's back. As Pettigrew lifted his arm, it crouched and jumped, launching itself from the sofa, claws extended. The animal's screaming hiss came right at the same time as the last syllable of the curse.

"--VRA!" The body of the tabby collided with Pettigrew's wand arm, knocking it off course. A green beam shot from the wand tip, crossing the room, missing its intended target, but finding another: Hannigan, a mildly surprised look on his face, slowly collapsed, falling, as in slow motion, over Snape's outstretched body.