Crucio

Harry wasn't sleeping. Rather, he was watching to make sure Sirius slept. And that he was still breathing. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking about Snape.

There was a soft whooshing noise from somewhere outside Harry's door. Harry brought his head up from where it was resting beside Sirius'. Dodgy had turned toward the sound as well; he gasped.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, pitching his voice low so that he wouldn't disturb Sirius as he sat up; he stilled. The door across the hall was still open and Harry could see a human-size lump on Snape's bed. It didn't look like it was moving. "Dodgy," he hissed. The little elf was moving toward whatever it was. Harry eased off the bed, swiping his wand from where it lay beside his uneaten tray of food. The abrupt movements left him slightly light-headed.

"Harry Potter must stay here," Dodgy whispered as he crossed into the corridor. Harry slunk forward, his wand at the ready. He could feel the magic of Snape's force field before he even reached the doorway. He wondered briefly if the damn thing worked both ways and would keep an intruder out, though it seemed very unlikely that someone who meant them harm would be able to enter the shack. It was only an assumption of course, but it must have been placed under the Fidelius--

"Master Snape, sir."

Harry tensed at the breathless words. Dodgy's wiry little hands were clasped against his mouth. His perpetually wide eyes were even wider than they usually were.

"Dodgy?" Harry questioned, his voice not quite as low as it had been a moment ago. Dodgy turned back to him, his expression and the placement of his hands unmoving.

"Master Snape has returned, Harry Potter, sir," he said, his voice warbling up and down with anxiety. Harry stared at him for a few seconds before his gaze travelled back to the bed. That lump was Snape?

"Is he-" Harry swallowed, "-is he all right?" Stupid question really. Dodgy wouldn't look like that if he was. Dodgy shook his head slowly, his eyes turning back to Snape.

"Someone is burning Master Snape..."

"Burning?" Harry's voice rose several octaves. He glanced once back toward Sirius, but Sirius was still sleeping soundly. "Is he..." Harry swallowed, "...is he...dead?" The thought sent a spasm through Harry's gut. But Dodgy shook his large head.

"Master Snape is breathing...Dodgy is not knowing what to do..." The little elf sounded completely bewildered. He began wringing his hands agitatedly. Harry stepped as close as he dared to the invisible shield.

"Dodgy, can you let me out? Maybe I can help."

Dodgy looked back at Harry. "Master Snape is telling Dodgy-"

"Can you help him?" Harry interrupted, not really wanting to hear what Snape had told the elf. Dodgy's eyes were beginning to look a little wet.

"Dodgy is not knowing how to help Master Snape, Harry Potter, sir," he said forlornly.

Harry stared at Snape. He could clearly see now that Snape's robes were charred. And Snape's chest was barely rising at all.

"Can you get Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked quietly; he was having a difficult time speaking. This couldn't have been an accident...and right after Snape had rescued Sirius. Harry swallowed hard.

Dodgy was shaking his head nervously. "Professor Dumbledore's magic is not allowing anyone else to enter the shack, Harry Potter, sir."

Harry wasn't certain what he meant by that, but Dodgy seemed certain of it, so he said firmly, "Then you have to go to Pomfrey and tell her what happened to Snape. She'll be able to tell us what to do. And you need to let me out of here so I can help you."

Dodgy looked uncertainly between Snape and Harry. "Harry Potter is not-"

Harry ignored the slight rushing of nerves in his ears as he gazed at Dodgy. "You have my word that I won't try to leave. And Snape will die if we don't help him." He didn't know if it was true or not, since he couldn't see the full extent of whatever had been done to Snape, but he figured it was best to be a little overdramatic with Dodgy, if the elf was anything like Dobby.

It seemed Dodgy was. His round eyes widened. And then Harry could feel the air crackling as Snape's shield dissolved.

Sparing one last glance for his sleeping godfather, Harry walked with hesitant steps across the hall. "Go," he encouraged the elf quietly as he made his way slowly to Snape's bed. There was a loud crack and Dodgy disappeared. Harry stepped up to Snape's bed. And as soon as he saw the professor, his lips began to quiver and his mouth parted in shock.

Without his permission, Harry's eyes squeezed shut and his knees buckled. He was grateful in that next moment that his stomach was empty. His gut contracted painfully as he gripped the edge of Snape's bed in an almost futile effort to stop himself from falling.

His knees only narrowly missed smacking up against the worn wood floors.

Harry eased himself down the last few centimeters, his eyes still closed. But the image of Snape's burnt face swam in front of his eyelids; the man was almost unrecognizable. Harry tried to draw a breath, as the nightmarish image taunted him. The next breath was easier; his stomach muscles were almost ready to cooperate, even more so with each slow in and out of his diaphragm.

I've faced a basilisk, Harry told himself firmly. And Voldemort. The encouragement didn't help much; he'd been scared as hell each time. Harry ignored the memories of the Basilisk and Voldemort as he slowly, using the top of the mattress for leverage, pulled himself up again.

One more steadying breath. Harry forced himself to open his eyes.

The disfigured face was still there.

Snape.

Harry didn't feel any of the fear that had overwhelmed him every time he'd gazed at this man over the past few days. His stomach still fluttered uneasily, but it was with disgust at what Voldemort had done to Snape. Or at least Harry assumed this had been deliberate. Why had Snape gone back to Voldemort if there had been any chance that he would be punished for rescuing Sirius?

Harry swallowed as he remembered how safe he'd felt, wrapped in Sirius' arms a few hours ago. How childish the feeling had been. He hadn't even been able to answer Sirius when he'd asked what had happened. How was he supposed to explain that he was terrified of Snape for reasons he didn't entirely understand?

He'd been certain that Snape had wanted to hurt him--had been gleeful as he watched Harry suffer. But Harry couldn't really remember much of what happened, except that after he went through a Crucio, he found himself inexplicably terrified that Snape would assault him. He felt violated. And he didn't even know why.

Snape couldn't have meant to hurt him, or at least he couldn't have wanted to hurt him. Not if he'd saved Sirius. And not only that, if Sirius was actually remembering correctly, Snape hadn't even tortured Sirius. He'd even stopped Bellatrix and whoever else from hurting him too badly. But even though Sirius had said it, Harry couldn't believe it. Especially since Snape had all but sneered that he was enjoying Sirius' torture.

And now it seemed that Snape had been tortured as well. And Harry felt as much revulsion at the thought of Snape being tortured as he had Sirius.

There was a loud crack and Dodgy was beside Harry once more, thrusting a vial toward him. "Madame Pomfrey says that Harry Potter is to give this potion to Master Snape. Madame Pomfrey says it will keep Master Snape's heart pumping while Harry Potter and Dodgy heal the burns."

Harry took the vial uncertainly as he tried to calm his heartbeat; the sudden Apparation had startled him. "But he can't drink this." Dodgy waved his hand impatiently. The contents of the little vial vanished. "What happened to it?" Harry asked with surprise.

"Dodgy spelled the potion into Master Snape's stomach, Harry Potter, sir." Dodgy handed Harry a jar filled with a grayish substance. "Dodgy must go back for more instructions. Madame Pomfrey says Harry Potter is to put Burn Salve all over Master Snape's burns." Dodgy was speaking so swiftly that Harry almost couldn't catch all of the words. He did, however, hear the last of Dodgy's following long list of instructions; his face flushed instantly.

"I can't do that!" he protested. Dodgy nodded his head fervently.

"Harry Potter must do it," he squeaked. "Madame Pomfrey says the Burn Salve must cover Master Snape's entire body."

"But his clothes are burned to his skin," Harry said quietly, his stomach turning over again, momentarily forgetting that Dodgy had just informed him that he would have actually have to touch Snape.

"Madame Pomfrey says Dodgy is to remove Master Snape's clothing."

"How?" Surely Snape wouldn't keep scissors in his little shack.

Instead of answering, Dodgy narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on Snape's body. And then with several tearing sounds that made Harry feel faint, and Dodgy wince, Snape's mutilated body was laid bare.

Harry could hardly breathe. Snape's entire body was covered in angry red and black blisters. And some of the skin had been torn away with the fabric. Harry began to feel lightheaded again as he watched the broken skin begin to ooze.

"Harry Potter must sit down," Dodgy was saying anxiously. Harry closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to breathe slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

"I'm all right." He opened his eyes again, but he focused on Dodgy's face this time. "Will you ask Pomfrey for some potions for Sirius as well? He was having trouble breathing and he's covered with bruises. I'm not sure I should wake him..."

"Harry Potter's godfather needs to rest, Harry Potter, sir. Dodgy is getting potions," the elf said reassuringly. Harry nodded, trying to keep his eyes from straying to the sickening burns all over Snape's body; it was hard enough to simply look at his face.

There was another loud crack as Dodgy Disapparated and Harry was left alone with Snape. He set his jaw as he glanced once more at the jar of gray goo. And then he glanced back at Sirius, still sleeping in the bed across the hall. He wished he could run across the hall, shake Sirius awake and beg for help. But Sirius probably wouldn't even be able to stand yet.

Harry twisted the jar's cap agitatedly; he wasn't a baby, damn it!

And Snape had rescued Sirius. Surely applying a little goo to the man wouldn't kill him--even if he was covered in sickening, leaking boils. Nodding his head in determination, Harry pocketed his wand, untwisted the cap and hoped fervently that Snape would stay unconscious while he worked.

Harry scooped some of the salve into his cupped fingers. He grit his teeth and, pressed the salve into Snape's shoulder; he couldn't quite bring himself to touch the professor's face yet. He kept his eyes on his own hand as he worked, doing his best not to notice the texture of the burns or the glistening, raw patches where the skin had been torn away. A generous amount of salve on his fingers helped with that, as long as he didn't linger. Apply and rub. Apply and rub. Harry kept at it, the rhythm unbroken, the view of his goo-gloppy fingers remaining alone in Harry's vision, until Snape was covered in the grayish salve.

Harry dropped his hand; his fingers were beginning to cramp. But he wasn't done. Almost his entire body had been covered in the healing goo.

Harry turned to face his nemesis. It was easier with the taunting black eyes closed. The face that he had inexplicably feared, held no contempt this time. And Harry didn't shudder, as he had so many times in the past few days. This face wasn't the face of his enemy. He wasn't the cause of the vague impression of being driven out of his safety. For a brief instant, as Harry stared at the burned features, this face belonged to the ranks of comrade. Snape had been on their side, at least briefly, and he too had been tortured by Voldemort.

Not having to pause this time, Harry began applying the salve to Snape's face. Once he'd finished, Harry capped the jar and set it carefully on Snape's desk. Pulling his wand out of his back pocket, he aimed it at Snape, and chanted the same spell he used to activate the magical properties in various potions, just as Pomfrey had directed. The air sizzled around Snape's body and then the salve seemed to thin and spread, creating a thin, shiny coating over Snape's body.

Harry sighed in relief, and slid his wand back into his pocket. It worked. Remembering Dodgy's words about keeping Snape warm, Harry unfolded the quilt at the end of the bed and draped it hastily over Snape. And then, almost without thought, Harry grabbed Snape's chair and scooted it close to the bed. Harry plopped wearily onto the hard seat. And then he simply sat there, watching the shallow, labored rise and fall of Snape's chest.

--

"Harry?"

Harry jerked awake at the frantic, high-pitched call. He looked around dazedly as he tried to get his bearings. He remembered where he was, just as he realized that it was Sirius calling his name; he sounded terrified. Harry scrambled up from his chair. Sirius was sitting up in bed, wild-eyed. As soon as he caught sight of Harry across the corridor, his eyes closed and he slumped with relief. He grimaced in pain at the sudden movement. Harry hurried back into the other room.

"Sirius? Are you all right?"

Sirius opened his eyes as Harry sat down on the bed. He grasped Harry's arms and pulled Harry toward him; he seemed to be trying to make sure that Harry was actually there. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently. Harry nodded quickly. "What's going on?"

Harry gestured with his hand toward Snape's room; his arms were still trapped in Sirius' fingers. "Snape suddenly appeared on his bed. He was burned...pretty badly." Sirius' eyes widened in horror; his grip tightened on Harry's arms.

"Burned?" he echoed, his voice rising an octave once again. Harry swallowed painfully as he nodded. The images of Snape's charred body swam in front of his vision.

"Dodgy got some potions from Pomfrey to heal the burns--and something for his heart. He's still unconscious." He didn't like the way his voice wavered through the lengthy explanation, anymore than he had last night. This time though, he didn't think it was because of fear.

Sirius twisted slightly, though he kept his hands on Harry's arms. His eyes narrowed; he stared across the corridor for a long time. He took a breath and turned back to Harry. His features were grim. "You saw him up close."

Harry nodded shakily. "I put Pomfrey's Burn Salve on him. Dodgy had to go back to Hogwarts." Odd that Dodgy hadn't come back yet, some part of Harry's brain tried to tell him.

"You should have woken me," Sirius said quietly. "You shouldn't have had to do that alone."

Harry shrugged, though he didn't feel nonchalant about it in the least. "I didn't think I should wake you. You couldn't even stand last night."

"I think I had a few broken ribs...though I have a suspicion that Snape healed them before he brought me here last night." Sirius' voice was introspective as he spoke, but he stopped speaking abruptly and narrowed his eyes again as he studied Harry. His face was suddenly grim. "Did he hurt you?"

Harry stilled under his godfather's gaze. He closed his eyes as he answered, "I can't remember."

"What do you mean you can't remember?" Even though Harry knew the sharp edge to Sirius' voice was meant for Snape, Harry flinched anyway. Sirius' hands moved to Harry's shoulders. "What can you remember?" His voice was gentler and Harry opened his eyes.

"He didn't hurt me...not physically, but every time he came too close..." Harry felt ill, remembering the way Snape had advanced on him. Sirius squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "I--I just can't explain it, but I was terrified of him. I was so sure he was going to hurt me."

Sirius considered Harry's explanation, understanding beginning to dawn over his face. "You said he brought you out of the Crucio. Do you remember any of that?"

Harry shook his head though. "Only vaguely. I remember the pain, and then seeing Snape when the pain ended."

"Remember how I told you that you created a barrier each time you enter a Cruciatus cycle?" Harry nodded. "Dumbledore said you fought both him and Snape when they tried to reach you behind that barrier. They said you were frightened--and angry. Dumbledore wouldn't allow Snape to break the barrier alone. He said it would hurt you if you didn't want him there."

Harry shivered again as vague memories formed in his mind--of Snape shouting at him to get out, of Snape tearing at him, forcing him to do things he didn't want to. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the images he couldn't really remember; they were too distorted. "I didn't want to leave and I had to stop him...or else he would have killed me...I couldn't let him-" Harry gasped a little, trying to get enough oxygen into his lungs so he would stop feeling like he was drowning.

Sirius tugged his shoulders and drew Harry firmly into his arms. Harry trembled against his godfather's chest; Sirius simply tightened his hold. "It's all right, Harry. Of course it frightened you," he soothed.

"But he never even-"

Sirius' fingers squeezed against the back of Harry's neck. "You thought you were safe behind your barricade and Snape's attempts to draw you out would have seemed like an attack. You were probably fighting him--just like you'd fight anyone who was trying to hurt you over and over again. That's why Dumbledore didn't allow it. That's why he called me--because you trusted me."

Harry's anxious breaths slowed as he listened to Sirius' soft, slow voice. But he was still ashamed, even more so with Sirius' explanation. How could he have been frightened of nothing more than Snape entering his mind? So frightened that Sirius' arms holding him meant much more than it should. He could feel his face heating with his humiliation.

"Harry," Sirius said as he pulled his godson away from his chest so that he could look directly into his green eyes, "for all purposes, Snape was attacking you. He had to, to make you leave your barrier. If you had been trapped for too long, your mind might have been lost." He gave Harry a very serious look. "Do you understand that?" Before Harry had a chance to respond, Sirius said firmly, "You have absolutely no reason to feel ashamed. You had every reason to be frightened of your attacker."

Attacker. Harry would have shuddered if Sirius hadn't had his arms securely around him. He nodded, though he was still certain he'd overreacted to Snape--to everything. "If you understood that, why did you try to kill Snape last night?" The question should have been funny, but there was absolutely no humor in either one of their faces.

"My mind was a bit fuzzy. And my brain is rather trained to think the worst of Snape," Sirius admitted with a grimace. "You were so upset, and the thought that Snape might have hurt you was too much...I wasn't thinking straight." He gave Harry a sudden, pointed look. "That'll happen when you haven't eaten for days."

Harry frowned. "I wasn't hungry." He couldn't really remember the last time he'd been hungry.

Sirius nodded. "I can understand that. I wasn't very hungry either." He smiled warmly at his godson. "I'm sure we can get both of us feeling back to normal now." Harry smiled a little at the slight question. At least Sirius hadn't threatened to shove food forcibly down his throat.

Both of their smiles faded though as Harry's eyes strayed involuntarily back to Snape.

"Did he really stop Voldemort from torturing you?"

Sirius followed Harry's gaze. "Bellatrix...but yes."

Harry swallowed through the lump in his throat. "But why would he do that?"

Sirius was silent for a long minute. "I don't know."