Rating:
15
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter Sirius Black Severus Snape
Genres:
Alternate Universe Mystery
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince Deadly Hallows (Through Ch. 36)
Stats:
Published: 06/10/2008
Updated: 04/06/2009
Words: 80,060
Chapters: 25
Hits: 25,910

Crucio

NotEvenHere

Story Summary:
When Umbridge subjects Harry to the Cruciatus, Snape intervenes, veering not only his own life off its intended course, but Harry’s and Sirius’ as well, spawning tragedy and devastation in its wake. First story in the Unforgiveables trilogy. In response to the OOTP: Crucio Challenge by royalnavigator on Potions and Snitches. Rated for violence and character deaths.

Chapter 12 - Slowly

Posted:
09/27/2008
Hits:
931


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling

Chapter 11: Slowly

"He was watching me with that?" Harry was squinting at the clear bauble on Snape's desk, where they had paused on their way in to douse Snape with the Burn Salve.

Sirius glanced at the sleeping Potions master . "Snape's been a spy for years. I don't think he realizes that there are other ways to check on people."

Harry frowned. "It's probably better that he didn't come in more often...whenever he did..." He shrugged, not wanting to explain that he'd endured a Crucio more than once when Snape had entered the room across the corridor. Sirius immediately lowered his eyebrows.

He asked quietly, "You went through a Crucio whenever he came into your room?"

"Not as soon as he came in," Harry clarified, feeling stupid, but Sirius' eyes held no judgment.

"What were you doing when it happened?"

Harry shifted, glancing back toward the room that he and Sirius now shared. "Arguing with Snape...shouting at him mostly."

Sirius immediately narrowed his grey eyes; they flicked to Snape, and then back again to his godson. "And was he shouting back at you, then?" he asked, his voice sounding strained.

"Some...mostly he just threatened to shove food down my throat or hex me-" Harry stopped speaking abruptly at the look of anger that passed over Sirius' face. "He didn't actually do any of those things," he said quickly. Sirius shook his head, but he didn't comment, and Harry knew it was difficult for him to keep silent.

They moved together to Snape's side; he was still asleep. He'd been quite irascible when he had woken up this morning, to find both Harry and Sirius at his bedside, and Harry was certain Snape had muttered something about the Dark Lord's fire not doing its job. When Sirius had asked the Potions master if he could get him some water, Snape had snarled at him, that yes, he certainly should go find some water, and then, if he wished to do Snape a favor, he would drown himself in it.

Sirius had backed off at that point, muttering under his own breath about thankless gits with too-large noses. Harry had continued slathering the burn salve throughout the exchange, wincing only once when Snape snapped at him to hurry up. Sirius and Harry had left as soon as Harry had given Snape his water.

"Maybe you should stay out of his line of vision this time," Harry suggested to his godfather. Sirius frowned at that, but nodded and sat in the chair that Harry usually sat in after he'd finished his glopping. "How much longer do you suppose he'll need the salve?" Harry asked as he absently twisted the lid of Pomfrey's jar.

Sirius narrowed his eyes to study the slowly scabbing boils all over Snape's chest, careful not to jolt his ribs by leaning forward. "I'm not certain," he admitted regretfully. "They look to be healing quite well, and most of them have already begun the scarring process, which means the salve has done its job."

"Once they're all closed over then?" Harry asked, willing his eyes not to stray to the large patches across Snape's chest that were still oozing a little. Sirius tilted his head forward, studying the burns as closely as he could without actually coming close enough for Snape to see him should he wake up suddenly. He nodded.

"That should be right. He'll have scars, of course, without a salve to counter them, but I don't see that there's anything to be done about that." Odd, the way Sirius sounded like he might actually feel badly for Snape about that.

"Maybe he has something here," Harry suggested, looking over his shoulder at a large bureau where Harry had begun to suspect Snape kept his potions.

"I doubt it," Sirius told him, still sounding sorry for Snape. Harry sighed a little. No help for it, he supposed. Squaring his shoulders, he uncapped the jar and began the methodical motions, starting with Snape's left shoulder, and working his way down. His eyes were drawn to Snape's Mark, even though he didn't mean to allow them to stray from where they'd been locked on the back of his own hand. But the Mark seemed darker than it had before...and the snake...it was moving.

A hand clamped viciously over his, and Harry jumped. The jar of salve was sent flying through the air to come to a splattering halt against the floor near Harry's feet.

"Get away from me," Snape whispered fiercely. Harry gasped as his professor's fingernails dug into his skin. Sirius struggled to his feet as quickly as he could, hissing sharply in pain as he stood up.

"Let go of him," he rasped, his breaths heavy and ragged. Snape ignored him, but his partially restored strength was no match for even Sirius' diminished state, or perhaps it was simply Sirius' protectiveness that won out over Snape's fury. Sirius wrapped his strong fingers around Snape's right wrist and wrenched his hand away from Harry's; Harry winced as Snape's fingers clawed across his flesh.

Snape made no sound to indicate that the abrupt motion caused him pain, though his lips did twist in a momentary grimace. Sirius flung Snape's hand away immediately and it flopped onto Snape's chest with a solid thwap. Snape sucked in a harsh breath at that; his hand had smacked up against one of the oozing patches.

Sirius took hold of Harry's shoulder, rather roughly from Harry's point of view, and was tugged well out of Snape's reach. Sirius leaned down over Snape, ignoring the gasp of pain the movement caused. "Unless you'd like to experience the infections you'll undoubtedly endure without any more of Poppy's salve, you'll not lay a finger on my godson again." The snarl in the threat made Harry shiver.

Snape didn't even flinch. "And when I die from the infection, who will release your godson from his next Crucio attack?" he asked with a curled lip.

Sirius' sneer nearly matched Snape's. "He hasn't had even one since you've been incapacitated. Interesting, that...wouldn't you say?"

Snape's lips clamped tightly together, and the two men silently glared at each other.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked slowly, looking between them. Snape's lips paled suspiciously. "You caused them?" Harry demanded as he stepped forward again.

"I didn't cause them," Snape scathed, the effectiveness very nearly lost with the tremor in his voice.

Harry drew in a breath through his nose, too shocked to do anything else. Snape had done that to him? "But how did you...how could you...?"

"How could I what, Potter? How could I do that to you? To you, the famous Harry Potter?" Snape's voice momentarily regained its vigor as he spat the words. His black eyes were alight now; obviously invigorated by his own hatred.

But Harry shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he snapped, feeling slightly relieved as Sirius moved away from Snape. "How did you trigger the Crucios? Umbridge cast the original curse."

Snape's eyes had gone dull with exhaustion once more...the loathing took entirely too much energy to maintain. But he still managed to sneer in a voice just above a whisper, "Because you're a coward, Potter."

It wasn't an answer at all, and Harry wasn't particularly offended by the oft-repeated insult, but Sirius stiffened in indignation. "Harry's not a coward. Anyone else would have broken after the first few-"

"Shut up, mutt." The words, unaccompanied by a snarl, startled Sirius into actually obeying. Snape's eyes were closed again, though it was clear he wasn't sleeping; his fingers were wound around his slowly pulsing Mark. "Get out...and take your brave little Gryffindor with you."

Sirius stared at the hand that was hiding Voldemort's Mark. But finally he nodded, looking smaller somehow. He turned to Harry. "Come on, Harry," he said quietly.

"I have to finish the salve."

Snape's eyes snapped open.

"No. Leave."

Harry shook his head, ignoring the slight queasy fluttering in his stomach. He had heard that tone in Snape's voice many times; it had only been in the past few days that it had disturbed him so much. He was used to Snape's scathing, he told himself firmly. "The burns aren't fully healed over-"

Snape's fingers dug into his left forearm. "I don't care." His voice had gone back to being scratchy and feeble.

"There's a chance of infection," Harry told him, only repeating what Dodgy had told him.

"The risk is mine to take. Now...get...out." Snape was practically panting by now.

But Harry wasn't going to get out. He didn't care how much Snape was going to hiss at him. And actually he looked like he was trying to sit up. Harry took a worried step toward the bed, forgetting to be nervous, but before he could reach Snape's side, Snape had stopped his useless struggle, his shoulders settling heavily down again. His eyelids fluttered closed.

"He wouldn't have stopped complaining otherwise."

Harry turned to see Sirius rolling Snape's wand between thumb and forefinger with a smile. "Sleeping Spell?"

Sirius nodded. "Wouldn't have been very sporting to crack him upside the head...since he spared me the same courtesy in Voldemort's little dungeon." But Sirius was frowning; the expression didn't go along at all with his light tone. He stepped toward Harry, catching Harry's injured hand in his fingers.

"It's all right," Harry told him, tugging at little as he reached down to scoop up the jar of salve with his other hand. Sirius tugged right back, and used his free hand to pluck the salve deftly from Harry's fingers.

"That can wait a moment," he said firmly, his eyes riveted to the four long gouges in Harry's skin. "Doesn't do anything by halves, does he?" he muttered. Harry was almost certain he heard a mumbled, 'bastard' in there as well, but Sirius began chanting a spell in the same breath as he waved Snape's wand over the remnants of the other man's tantrum. Harry watched in fascination as a cleansing spell washed over the scratches and then, the wounds were neatly covered by a square plaster.

"Neat," Harry remarked with enthusiasm. Sirius smiled at him as he pocketed Snape's wand. "You're taking his wand?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't think I can trust him not to hex you when you next insist on tending to him." He gave his godson a look that made Harry smile, though it was every bit stern. "Not that you're going to be in here without me."

Harry shook his head in agreement. He glanced down at his newly dressed hand before asking quietly, "Snape scared me into all the Crucios...is that what he meant?" The thought was utterly humiliating, and the feeling of shame heightened as he looked into his godfather's caring eyes.

Sirius seemed to be choosing his words very carefully as he studied Harry's face. "I think it is probably fear that triggers the cycles." He shook his head as Harry began silently berating himself for actually being the coward that Snape had accused him of being. "You are not a coward," Sirius said firmly. "That spell was designed to make you feel so much fear that you actually retreated into your mind, Harry. Snape attacked you. And each time he did, you feared him more and more, as anyone would."

Harry was disinclined to let those facts alleviate his humiliation. Of course he understood what Sirius was saying to him. And he had already accepted that he had come to view Snape as a vicious assailant during those times. But it made it no easier to accept that it was only fear--of Snape, no less--which brought on each new round of Crucio. He shook his head in disgust.

"Snape must have loved that," he said bitterly.

"His initial response was, no doubt, glee that he could produce such a reaction in James' son," Sirius agreed, looking irritated at the notion. "But even I can't claim that Snape would have enjoyed it for long. Even if he didn't contribute to my torture, out of loyalty to Dumbledore...he didn't have to take it quite as far as he did." His eyes strayed to stare, mystified, at his enemy, but then his face hardened. "But if he touches you again-" He shook his head, too agitated at the thought to finish the threat.

"We can't actually let him die of infection, you know," Harry said lightly, smiling at his godfather.

"I know a few curses that would have him begging for infection," Sirius said with scowl in Snape's direction. But he shook his head resignedly as he turned back to Harry. "I owe him twice now, damn him."

Harry tilted his head to the side as he pondered that statement. Sirius smiled at him. He reached out and nudged Harry's chin gently with his knuckles. "For you."

Harry grinned, unable to still the warmth that spread through his chest. "I owe him as well, then," he said seriously.

"Mmm," Sirius murmured, his lips twitching against another smile, "then I suppose I'll let you continue to treat his burns." He held out the jar of salve. "Rather sneaky of him to force both of us into his debt. But then, that's a Slytherin for you." The last words were quieter now, and Sirius' face had paled a little.

"Sit down, Sirius, before you fall over," Harry suggested as he took the salve. The jesting mood had evaporated...Sirius' forehead was beginning to glisten with perspiration. He wanted to tell Sirius to go lie down, but since the argument from his godfather would just cause him to lose more of his already-sapped energy, Harry said nothing else.

"Right," Sirius agreed. Grasping the arms of Snape's chair, he lowered himself slowly into the seat. He sighed. "Next time that git wakes up, I'm going to ask him if he knows any healing spells."

Harry was watching his movements carefully. "Is it getting worse?"

Sirius waved his hand casually. "It's tolerable." Harry wasn't fooled. He sighed to himself, wishing Pomfrey were here.

"We'll ask Snape if he has any healing potions as well," Harry decided as he continued his glopping; it got easier all the time.

"Better not tell him they're for me," Sirius said with a wry twist of his lip, and Harry silently agreed. After all, Snape had no burden of debt to force him to act with even a semblance of compassion toward either of them. And unfortunately, Harry didn't know if he had enough Slytherin in him to get any help from Snape without it.

--

The next time Snape woke up, Sirius was dozing lightly in Snape's chair and Harry had just finished settling the blanket over Snape after applying the latest round of salve. Snape's lips immediately set themselves into a furious scowl; Harry stepped back, and after he did, he wondered how much of that had been instinct, and how much had been fear.

"Give me my wand." Snape wasted no time in issuing the heavy command.

"Er...Dodgy said you shouldn't do any magic until you're completely healed." Harry could hardly say that Snape's wand was safely tucked in Sirius' pocket, after all. Unfortunately, Snape seemed to know a little more about healing protocol than Harry did.

"Liar," he breathed, though there was very little anger behind the claim. And then Harry had to wonder if Snape was actually referring to Dodgy. "My wand," he ordered again, sounding slightly breathless with impatience.

"I can't..."

Snape's eyes found his, and it seemed he hadn't lost his well-developed talent for glaring. "Can't?" he echoed ominously, if rather quietly. Harry shrugged.

"Sirius is keeping it for you." Snape couldn't do much about it, he supposed. Snape glowered at him.

"Give me my wand." He was struggling to sit up again.

"If you're planning to hex me, I should tell you that I have my wand." Harry was fingering it by now, ready to pull it from his back pocket if necessary. Snape's eyes widened by a millimeter, and he stilled his agitated movements.

"Are you threatening me?" Snape demanded, his voice still scratchy from disuse.

"If you're planning to use your wand to hex me, I am," Harry returned evenly.

"Don't be an idiot, Potter." Snape took a ragged, huffing breath as he shifted uncomfortably. "If I wanted to hex you, I would have done it before now."

Harry abruptly released his tightening grip on the handle of his wand, feeling foolish. He hoped Snape wouldn't notice the flush creeping over his cheeks. "Why do you want your wand?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual. Snape's lips pinched together and he looked away. Harry frowned. "Do you...er...need something...I can bring you more water."

"I don't need anything," Snape snapped at him. He was grimacing in obvious pain now.

Harry glanced over at Sirius, still breathing evenly as he slumped in Snape's chair; he thought fleetingly that Sirius would want to be woken up, but given that Sirius' last exchange with Snape hadn't gone very well, Harry decided not to. Besides, he needed the sleep.

"Erm..." Harry's feet shifted as he tried not to look at Snape, "...I can get you whatever you need...are you hungry...or if you need some pain potion...well, I don't have any but if you have some and you want me to get it-"

"Stop babbling, your imbecile," Snape interrupted fiercely; the effort seemed to cost him another unsteady breath. His scowl deepened. "The Burn Salve provides adequate pain relief." His fingers were fisting in agitation. Turning his eyes again from Harry, he said stiffly, "I need to perform an Elimination Spell."

"Oh!" Harry's cheeks flamed. Sirius had performed an Elimination Spell on Snape after Snape had returned from Voldemort...one that would continue until Snape's body was ready to function on its own. "I...you can use my wand." Snape still wasn't looking at him, and Harry, after he fumbled his wand into Snape's fingers, turned away. A stream of quiet curses, followed by the soft clatter of wood against stone had Harry turning around again.

Snape either couldn't aim properly, or he was simply having difficulty with his wrist flick; Harry felt a disturbing rush of sympathy for him. Snape had closed his eyes again. "Sirius can-"

"No."

The refusal was non-negotiable. Harry licked his lips nervously; he glanced toward Snape's loo. "Erm...do you want me to help you to the loo?" He wasn't certain it was work, since he didn't know if Snape would be steady enough.

"Unless you'd prefer me to soil myself right here, then yes," Snape said irritably, his black eyes flashing furiously back to Harry; he seemed much angrier than was necessary under the circumstances. Harry forced himself to simply nod, though his cheeks immediately began to burn again as he remembered that Snape was starkers under his blanket.

"You...you're not dressed..." he said awkwardly. Snape glared at him.

"Your powers of observation amaze me, Potter." The sarcasm flowed thickly, even through Snape's scratchy voice.

Harry's embarrassment turned quickly to anger. "Well, I didn't think you'd want me to..." The embarrassment returned.

"What Potter? See me nude?" he asked with narrowed eyes, and lips that were jeering at him. "You've seen me already. So, spare me the adolescent theatrics and help me up."

Harry almost balked. The bastard deserved nothing less than to lie in his own putrid filth. It would serve him right. Except, Harry reminded himself with a silent grimace, he'd saved Sirius. And the way Snape was watching him, his lip curled derisively, it seemed Snape knew exactly what he was owed by one Harry Potter.

Gritting his teeth, Harry ignored the internal protesting at touching Snape without the gooey salve and helped the Potions master sit up, carefully keeping his gaze on Snape's face. Maneuvering his arms to sling around Snape's ribs, he guided him upward. Snape, with a soft grunt, couldn't seem to help himself slumping into Harry's side. Harry stumbled a little against the sudden weight, but he kept his arms steady around Snape, and with slow, torturous steps, the two of them made their way to the loo.

As soon as they reached it, Snape gripped the edges of the doorway, pulling himself away from Harry with a heavy groan. His arms were quivering with the effort. Harry, not knowing what compelled him, said quietly, "I can help you the rest of the way."

"Leave." Snape's voice was trembling now too. Harry, feeling a sudden, horrible lump in his throat, could only nod. He would wait, of course, but there was no reason to tell Snape so. He stepped away from the broken man, allowing him to claim what little dignity he could.

--

A/N: I apologize for the slow update. My grandmother passed away. I've been out of town, and unfortunately, not in the mood to write. Thanks for your patience.