Saving Severus Snape

Chapter Two: In Voldemort's Lair

"Snivellus!" jeered James Potter, running his fingers through his untidy black hair. "Why are you following me around, Snivellus?"

"I am not," returned Snape. "Despite your inexplicable belief that you are irresistible, it so happens that I have better taste than to desire to be in your vicinity. I am merely walking in the same direction."

Potter laughed again. "Oh, I don't think that I'm so irresistible. That would be my best mate Sirius here, wouldn't it? So how come you keep walking in the same direction as us then, eh, Snivellus? Could it be..." Potter's eyes wandered ahead, to the small group of girls sitting by the lake, towards whom he and Sirius were strolling. "Could it be that it's Lily Evans whose vicinity you want to be in?"

Snape's skin was oily and sallow, but a red tinge began to seep into his cheeks.

"It is!" crowed Potter! "OY! EVANS!"

A very good-looking girl with dark red hair turned around and raised her eyebrows enquiringly. Her eyes were a deep green.

"You've got an admirer! Go on, Snivellus, ask her out..."

"Her!" Snape uttered in freezing accents. "In case you hadn't noticed, Potter, she happens to be a Mudblood. Unlike you, I have no desire to pollute -"

He got no further. With a snarl of rage, James Potter had pulled out his wand.

"Accio wand!"

Snape's own wand flew from the pocket of his robes. Before he could move, or dodge, a hex burst into his face. He found himself literally dripping in liquid pig dung. It was heaped on his head, running in rivulets down his greasy black hair, and pouring down his face. He raised hands that trembled slightly to clean the muck away from his eyes, but even as he did this another hex struck him. He found himself dancing a silly little jig. His feet pranced and kicked and executed smart little steps.

"POTTER!" another voice interrupted with a roar. Snape's feet, released from the jinx, collapsed under him and he fell to the ground.

"Sorry, Professor," said James lazily. He did not sound sorry.

Harry jerked briefly into full awareness. He had found out last year how mercilessly his father had teased and bullied Snape. It had not made him feel good then. It did not make him feel good now. His eyes fluttered and he muttered restlessly, then sank back into the visions parading before his reluctant mind. His body, now upright in the armchair, had gone rigid.

The first years filed nervously past him, too intimidated by their entrance into the Great Hall even to chatter. His gaze swept over them, then fell on one particular face.

Harry Potter! It had to be. He had the same black hair which refused to lie down, the same features, doubtless the same bullying, arrogant, domineering nature. An odd churning feeling started in his stomach. He hid his sudden perturbation behind an especially nasty sneer. Potter! In his class, and looking just like his damned father.

Except for his eyes, he noticed suddenly. His perturbation increased. The boy had Lily's eyes....

"Well, Mr Potter," he drawled to himself. "How nice to welcome such a celebrity into Hogwarts."

His thoughts were suddenly ripped from contemplation of the past. It had always annoyed him, the extent to which Potters past and present seemed to define the contours of his life. But now, more pressing matters caught his attention. The door of his cell was opening. He scrabbled in his chains to try to sit up and confront whoever was entering.

It was not him, but that was the only good thing that could be said. The person entering was a woman. Sirius Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, who had escaped from Azkaban the previous year and then been whisked away from recapture by the Dark Lord himself.

"Well, well, well," she said. She murmured under her breath, and the darkness of the cell was abruptly banished in a flood of greenish light. "Mr Snape, I believe. Our master is not pleased with you...not pleased with you at all...."

He maintained his silence, and sneered up at her. The sneer was not really an act of bravado. It had simply become his habitual expression over the years.

He shifted; her eyes gleamed at him under their heavy lids. She looked excited. His experience of Bellatrix did not lead him to suppose this meant anything but bad news.

"Very displeased with you he is...traitor!" She hissed at him, her face contorting in sudden rage. Then her expression relaxed again, and she smiled. Once, before Azkaban, she had been a very beautiful woman. "But the good news is, my darling, that he doesn't want to kill you. Oh no. He has much, much more interesting plans for you than that. But my dear Lord, my beloved Master, is very pleased with me. And as a reward, he has allowed me to come down here to play with you for a little while. Won't that be nice?"

Helpless without his wand and in the heavy chains, Snape slammed back against the wall of the cell as the impact of the Cruciatus curse hit him. Agony ripped endlessly along his nerve-endings. He knew he was yelling. He knew he was writhing, screaming, pleading. Above it all, he could hear another noise. A woman, laughing, with glee.

Harry gulped down the glass of restorative potion Mrs Weasley held out to him. He was still breathing raggedly. This time, the visions had come out of the blue while he was sprawled in an armchair letting his thoughts drift aimlessly. As soon as he was able to speak, he turned to Lupin who was regarding him gravely.

"We've got to find him! We've got to help him! They're - they're - torturing him."

"Harry." Lupin's voice was serious and quiet. "You know we are doing everything we can. Snape may not be one of our most popular colleagues, but he is a member of the Order, and we would not willingly leave him in such a situation."

"Professor," Hermione's voice piped up hesitantly. "Could it be - I mean - how do we know it isn't a trick? Like, like last time...."

Everyone glanced at Harry with foreboding. Voldemort had thoroughly deceived Harry the preceding summer, when he had sent him false visions of Sirius suffering under the Cruciatus curse. Harry, as Voldemort had known he would, had gone charging off to the rescue. What awaited him was not Sirius, but Voldemort's Death Eaters. While Voldemort's plans had been foiled, and all in all another victory notched up for the Order, part of the price paid for that victory had been Sirius Black's life. Sirius had been amongst those who had come after Harry and his friends, to save them. Harry was still raw with the pain of it, and had not really persuaded himself that it was not all his fault for falling into the trap in the first place.

Lupin, though, was shaking his head. "No, Hermione, we are sure of that. Dumbledore has monitored Harry's dreams very carefully. They are definitely originating from Severus Snape. Dumbledore knows the pattern of his mind. In fact, probably the only reason Dumbledore isn't also receiving Snape's thoughts is because he necessarily surrounds his own mind with the most powerful possible protections."

"Does that mean," Harry frowned as a thought occurred to him, "does that mean I am the only person who might be able to tune into him, and find him?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so," Lupin said thoughtfully. "Wherever they are hiding out will be unplottable, and surrounded by Confundus charms of the strongest kind. There is absolutely no chance of locating him through normal magical means. But, Harry, you mustn't try. It would be very dangerous. For us to get a fix on Snape through you would mean you entering deeply into his head. That's a risky business at the best of times. Now, with Snape's own defences so low, you might go in so far that you would never be able to come out again."

"So ...Harry would get stuck in Snape's head..."

Lupin sighed. "Pretty much. It would mean that Harry's mind would be joined with Snape's. Sharing whatever sufferings Voldemort is inflicting on Snape. Sharing, if it came to it, his death...."