Crucio

Sirius stared at Snape, who was wearing Wormtail's face, wondering if the haughty Slytherin had finally cracked under the strain of his spying duties. "Leaving?" he asked, his voice scratching even more with his disbelief. Snape waved a silencing hand at him as he turned sharply back to Wormtail--the entire scene was completely disconcerting.

Snape touched Pettigrew's temple with the tip of his wand. Snape stared at the other man intently for several moments. And then, with a satisfied nod, Snape waved his wand toward Pettigrew in an intricate loop. Sirius recognized the Tracking Charm. Once finished applying the charm, Snape gestured to the closed door. Pettigrew, without a word, exited the rank room, closing the door softly behind him.

"We must remain here until the Dark Lord leaves," Snape informed Sirius curtly, still watching the closed door.

"What's happened?" Sirius whispered, suddenly feeling the need to keep his voice low. Snape didn't even turn around.

"It would best if you kept quiet," Snape said, his voice very soft in the near-darkness. Sirius, his fingers numb from being extended toward the ceiling for so long, couldn't even flex them with his frustration. He supposed though, that he should count himself fortunate that his fingers, along with his entire body, was so numb. He was so damn exhausted. And if it hadn't been for Snape's handy little Charm, he would also be in considerable pain.

Sirius' eyes narrowed as he watched the other man, intently staring at the door. He should have thought to ask earlier, he realized with a start. Especially with that little trick Snape--if it was indeed Snape--had just performed. Sirius tried to swallow, but there was absolutely no moisture in his mouth or throat. Some of Snape's water would come in handy about now. Although...it had probably been pretty stupid to drink anything that anyone in this infested house had offered him.

"How do I know you're really Snape?" he asked suspiciously, ignoring the way he was rasping. He was so thirsty... Snape finally turned. His eyes were narrowed.

"You tried to have your werewolf friend kill me when you were fifteen," he drawled. Sirius felt his face growing hot.

"I wasn't trying to kill you," he denied indignantly, though the effect was ruined by his abused vocal chords. And the breathy shout drained him even further. He would have sagged against the stone wall if he hadn't been held so stiffly against it. He let his chin dip a little as Snape raised an eyebrow in challenge. Sirius sighed. He didn't have the strength to argue, and he knew he had been stupid that night anyway. More than stupid...

He lapsed into silence, wondering if Snape really was going to get him out of here somehow. After he had told him so bluntly that no one was coming for him. Sirius lifted his head again, fear charging against his ribcage as his thoughts zeroed in on Harry. "Harry-"

"Be silent," Snape hissed at him before he whipped around again. Sirius frowned, even that small movement of his parched lips very difficult. But he did as Snape ordered, not wanting to upset whatever plans the Slytherin had in mind. Not if it meant reuniting with Harry. And whatever was happening, Harry was obviously still alive--otherwise Snape would not have bothered with him. Of that, Sirius was certain.

"Pettigrew is secured," Snape muttered a short time later, and Sirius wasn't sure if he was speaking only to himself. And then it was silent once more.

It seemed like hours had passed until Snape finally moved again; Sirius had watched him the entire time, his eyelids heavy but as it was throughout the rest of his captivity, sleep eluded him. There was the sound of light scraping against stone somewhere in the corridor. Severus couldn't even tense with the nerves he felt at the intrusion; his muscles felt like jelly.

The door swung open.

Bellatrix swayed in.

Snape immediately leapt aside, his hands and shoulders twitching nervously, in an almost perfect imitation of Pettigrew. Bellatrix glowered down at him. "The Dark Lord asked me to check up on you, Wormtail," she jeered in her high-pitched whinge. Snape flinched at the words, a clear insult to Pettigrew's pathetic abilities.

"I-I won't let-let my Lord down," Snape assured her, in a pathetic, stuttering cadence. Bellatrix's lips stretched into a mocking smile. She leaned in close to press her lips against his hairy ear. He trembled.

"If you do," she whispered, "I'll see that you and the Muggle boy have much in common."

Her tongue flicked out, like a serpent's, to lap harshly against Pettigrew's ear. Snape gasped in a sharp breath and even Sirius was convinced that Snape was terrified. Bellatrix drew her long tongue back, running it lightly along her bottom lip before it disappeared again. She pulled herself upright again, and with a lazy flick of her wand, Snape was brought to his knees with a dull crack.

He began whimpering. Bellatrix smiled down at him once more, this time with disgust, and then she turned to Sirius. Sirius gazed at her, unable to still his defiance. She stepped closer to him fluidly, until she was only centimeters from his face. "I will enjoy killing you," she told him simply. But then, her calm façade evaporated. "Filthy blood-traitor," she screeched, a few drops of spittle spraying over his cheeks. "The Muggles' deaths will seem peaceful next to what I have planned for you," she spat mercilessly. Sirius' cracked lips trembled, and he had to force his eyes not to flit to the dead boy on the floor. Bellatrix raised her wand, and chanted the words that he was so familiar with. Though he felt no pain, Sirius began to scream.

Bellatrix laughed, watching him intently. She released him a moment later, with a disappointed sigh. Sirius drew in a deep breath, trying to bring more oxygen into his brain. But he flinched as Bellatrix grazed her long fingernail against his jaw. "Until tomorrow," she promised softly. She smiled again as Sirius shuddered.

She turned away, still smiling. Before she slipped back into the dark corridor beyond, she flicked her wand toward the man she believed to be Pettigrew. Snape gasped and doubled over.

The door closed with a soft click.

Sirius struggled slightly against the wall, a reflex as he tried to expel the rawness in his throat. His temples thrummed with an erratic pulse as he gazed down at Snape. Snape was drawing in a breathy draught of air as he levered his palm against the moldy floor. He pushed himself up to stand, the movement almost smooth. Sirius could see the tension throughout Snape's frame as the other man stared at the door.

Again, time crawled so slowly that Sirius almost thought he could feel the aches that Snape's spell was supposed to be blocking.

"The manor is empty," Snape announced, and without realizing he was doing it, Sirius bucked against the invisible restraints. His effort was futile; he remained affixed to the craggy stones. Snape turned around. He flicked his wand, and Sirius gasped as his arms and legs began flailing in midair. Another flick from Snape's wand, and Sirius was slithering down the wall, coming to a stop as a crumpled heap on the floor.

He lifted his head; the effort cost him dearly. He felt a waving nausea slam through him. He began retching, his fingers trying and failing to find purchase against the slimy stones. He vaguely thought he heard a noise of disgust, but it seemed very far away. A second later, Sirius clearly heard a snapped, "Lavare."

An unfamiliar fresh scent surrounded him. Apparently, Snape could abide his smell no longer. He wanted to tell the damn git that it wasn't his fault that he'd been denied a toilet. But all he could do was slump back against the wall.

--

Severus glared down at Black; the man was essentially a puddle of human flesh and bones. Severus growled irritably as he reached down and gripped the puddle around his waist. Ignoring his mind screaming at him that he was touching Sirius Black, Severus grasped Black's wrist and draped his entire arm over his shoulder. Severus hoisted the slack man up. Black mumbled something that sounded like an insistence that he didn't need help. Severus ignored that as well, and started the trek out of the manor, moving as swiftly as Black's half-dragging legs would allow.

It took less than ten minutes to clear the property. Severus, his eyes surveying the barren landscape, slipped past the abandoned shack at the edge of the property and hauled Black into the thick stand of trees beyond. It took longer than Severus would have liked, to find the small copse of bushy trees. Pettigrew, his face still morphed into Severus' was sitting under one of the trees, waiting for them.

Severus loosened his hold on Black, allowing the other man to sink to his knees on the mossy earth. Severus pulled two more vials from his pocket. He handed one to Pettigrew, and downed the contents of the other himself. He waited until he was back in his familiar form before waving his wand; Pettigrew drank the dark potion. Severus watched as Pettigrew morphed back into his nervous, chattering self again.

"Do you have enough strength to transform into the mutt?" Severus asked Black, who was watching the proceedings warily. Black furrowed his brow, apparently having to mull the relatively simple question over. He shook his head.

"Tired," he muttered. Severus scowled, and not even pausing to ask permission, he turned his wand on Black, and within seconds, a huge black dog was staring back at him. The mutt growled at him as he stood.

"Better?" Severus drawled. If dogs could scowl, this one certainly would have been. Severus smirked and gestured to Pettigrew. "Bite him," he directed. The mutt stared at him. "I cannot imitate a dog's bite, or its saliva with my wand, Black," Severus snapped. "I will tear his clothes, and add a few scratches." The mutt continued to stare at him. "If you want to see your precious godson, Black, I suggest you get on with it," Severus snarled.

Mention of the miniature Potter snapped the mutt right out of his stupor. He bared his teeth and stalked toward Pettigrew. Pettigrew's eyes went huge with fear. With a sharp wave of Severus' wand, Pettigrew became rooted to the forest floor. The mutt hesitated, looking uncertain. But then his eyes hardened. The mutt lunged toward Pettigrew's right ankle, his teeth sinking into the flesh with ease. Pettigrew shrieked. Severus nodded in satisfaction as he heard the crunch of a few bones. The mutt released the screaming man. He sat back on his haunches, his head drooping down, obviously drained by that small exertion.

Severus completed his part of the illusion with a complicated series of flicks with his wand. All of Pettigrew's incriminating memories were erased. And he began hobbling back to the dirt road past the hovel, where he would wait for an extremely disappointed Dark Lord to return.

The mutt was lying in the moss now. His limbs were quivering, but Severus couldn't tell if it was from anticipation or from the past days of torture. He did seem to be glaring at Severus, though so it was likely the former. He was anxious to see Potter. Though how anyone could feel anything but irritation when they were around the presumptuous brat, Severus really couldn't understand.

With another spell, the mutt morphed back into Black. "Harry," Black muttered as he struggled to his knees. Snape pursed his lips; he curled his long fingers around Black's bicep and hauled him to his feet.

"Your godson has managed to work himself up into quite a state," Severus informed the mutt-turned man in his grasp. Black's head shot up, his grey eyes flashing.

"Wha-"

The rest of his furious words were swallowed up as Severus spun, turning both of them inside out.

They landed, both of them feet first, on the grassy knoll just beyond the boundary. Black sputtered and coughed violently, but Severus dragged him forward, giving him no time to regain his breath. He felt the security of the wards wash over him, but he didn't slow his pace.

"Sna--wait!" Black was protesting as he was pulled across the grass. Severus halted as soon as they reached the door. He released Black's arm abruptly. Black clawed wildly at the doorframe, before finding purchase with both of his hands. "Where...is...he?" he panted as he held to the frame with all his strength; his legs were beginning to wobble.

Severus ignored the asinine question and spelled the door open. Dodgy, as expected, was hovering just inside the door. His ridiculously large eyes widened at the sight of Black. "Potter's godfather," Severus said tersely, and with the introductions concluded, he swept past both stupefied creatures. He stalked past Potter's room without looking in, and then his own bedroom door slammed behind him.

--

"Harry," Sirius croaked toward the little elf in his path. The elf nodded madly.

"Dodgy will take Harry Potter's godfather to Harry Potter," the elf--Dodgy apparently--told him eagerly. Sirius nodded, hoping this Dodgy would move swiftly so he could collapse as soon as he found Harry. Dodgy beckoned him forward and Sirius attempted to comply, but as soon as he released his hold on the rotting door frame, his legs buckled and he flopped to the floor.

"Damn," he groaned as pain shot through his knees. Snape's spell seemed to have worn off. Dodgy rushed toward him and before Sirius had a chance to realize what the elf had in mind, he was turned inside out for the second time that night.

"Harry Potter, sir."

Sirius struggled past his wheezing to grab the edge of the bed in front of him. He pulled himself up, his stomach roiling with his sudden movements. "Harry," he breathed as he spotted the familiar, messy head of raven hair.

"Harry Potter is sick," Dodgy whispered from behind him. Sirius, forcing himself to ignore the nausea and sheer exhaustion, pushed his legs up and hoisted himself up onto the bed. Harry was curled into a ball so tight, Sirius didn't think he would be able to pry him straight again. Harry's lungs were moving in gently rhythmic breaths; he was asleep. He looked all right though...

Leaning forward tentatively, Sirius smoothed a quiet hand over Harry's hair. "Harry," he prompted softly. Harry jerked convulsively away from him.

"No," he groaned. The piteous sound made Sirius' stomach clench. Harry's knees drew up even further into his chest. Sirius' hand moved to Harry's shoulder; Harry flinched away again. Sirius twisted around to glare at Dodgy.

"What's wrong with him?" he demanded, the words finding their way past his raw throat somehow.

Dodgy's hands flailed pointlessly in the space around his head. "Dodgy does not know, sir. Harry Potter has been crying since Master Snape left. Harry Potter would not talk to Dodgy...and Harry Potter will not eat."

Sirius turned abruptly back to his godson. What the hell had Snape done?

"Harry?" Sirius questioned softly, shaking his godson's shoulder as gently as he could. Harry's shoulder began to tremble under his hand.

"Please...just leave me alone, sir," Harry pleaded, his voice filled with fear. Fear. Sirius felt rage beginning to boil beneath his skin. Snape had done this to Harry.

"Harry," Sirius whispered calmly as he leaned over so he could see his godson's face, "it's me...it's Sirius."

Harry's body convulsed with a strange, gasping sob. "Don't," he moaned. "Sirius is going to die. I believe you now," he whispered, sounding horribly desperate as he tried to turn his head away. Sirius pushed down the rage that, later, would most likely make him rip Snape's throat out. He cupped Harry's chin in his fingers and eased his face around. Harry's eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Sirius' other hand strayed up to Harry's flopped-over fringe. "It's all right...open your eyes," he commanded gently as his fingers affectionately brushed the errant strands away from Harry's scrunched eyes, where they seemed to spend too much of their time...just like James'. "...remember when I told you how very like your mother's they are?" He smiled a little as he remembered the night Harry had given him his life back.

Harry drew in a sharp, unsteady breath. Sirius kept his hands pressed lightly against Harry's face and hair, to let Harry know he wasn't going to go anywhere. The lined eyelids slowly pulled apart.

Harry's green eyes were dull and bloodshot against the harsh light above them. He blinked, but Sirius didn't think Harry understood what he was seeing.

"Sirius?"

Sirius nodded, though his smile faltered as Harry's voice cracked.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, his heart beginning to pound sharply against his ribcage. Harry gripped his forearm.

"Sirius," Harry murmured again; his fingers were digging painfully into Sirius' skin. Ignoring the pain, as well as the ache throughout his entire body, Sirius leaned down as Harry's eyes began to well up with tears. He'd never seen Harry cry--not even after Cedric had been killed. Whatever had happened here, Harry wasn't himself at all.

"It's all right, Harry. Whatever's happened, I'm here now. It's all right," he soothed, his words taking on a melodious cadence he didn't think he'd ever used before, as he tried to reassure his godson. Harry gulped in another huge rush of trembling air, and then the tears that were gathered in his eyes spilled over. Sirius, using the last bit of strength he had, pulled Harry up and into his chest. He pressed his fingertips into the back of Harry's head, using the pads of his fingers to trace soothing patterns into Harry's scalp. "Shh," he murmured as he held his godson close. "It's all right."

Harry shuddered and then his arms were wound tightly around Sirius' back. The grip was so fierce, Sirius couldn't draw a full breath, and he was perched rather precariously on the very edge of the bed. But it didn't matter. Harry needed him. So, Sirius ignored his own discomfort and tightened his hold around his distraught godson. He let Harry cry into his chest, unwilling to move, even if he had to sit like this for the rest of the night.

He would kill Snape in the morning.

--

The moon illuminated the tall figure standing amongst the ashes that used to be Number Four Privet Drive, in the middle of the circle of his most loyal minions.

The circle was cast in shadow.

The figure did not move, his gleaming crimson eyes focusing on things only he could see. He was waiting for the boy who would bring him eternal life--the thing he craved the most. He had waited for far too long--something else the boy would pay for.

The breeze whipped around his robes, and they fluttered peacefully in the darkened night. The Muggles were silent around them--for now. Privet Drive, the place that had thwarted him, the place that had provided refuge for his enemy for so many years would be the first to fall. His servants would enjoy their reward. They would not fail him.

Severus would not fail him either.

Harry Potter would die tonight.