Crucio

Chapter 20: Plunging

Severus uttered the foulest oath he knew as Potter clutched the sides of his head, his mouth open wide on a familiar, chilling scream. Severus pulled his wand tip abruptly back from Potter's temple, cutting off the spell before he completed the word. Keeping his wand pointed at Potter, and sliding jerkily to the floor, Severus quickly rushed out the words that he hadn't used in what seemed like a very long time; they came easily to his tongue anyway.

Potter's screams ceased instantly, ending the Cruciatus almost as soon as it had begun. Potter slumped a little, only remaining upright because Severus' fingers were digging into his shoulder. Potter's eyes were closed, though his lips were still slightly parted, and his limbs were still convulsing with the force of the curse.

Severus put his wand back to Potter's temple. "Legilimens," he said hoarsely, completing the spell with an effort this time.

As soon as he entered Potter's mind, Severus wanted to gnash his teeth. The wall was just as forbidding as it had been on his previous forays. With a hesitancy which was unfamiliar to him, Severus nudged the barrier, testing Potter's response. Pain and fear soaked through the barrier, an echo of all the times that Severus had battled Potter in here before. Severus felt himself flinching from it as pain assaulted him as well.

There were anguished shouts of protest from Potter as Severus leaned against the barrier, but there was no other choice. Potter needed to come out. But as he applied pressure against the barrier, pushing against it, he could feel Potter fighting against him--his anger growing to surpass his fear.

And images of blood and barbed wire rose sharply between them. A reminder, Severus wondered, but no...this wasn't Potter's image. It was Severus' own memories of what he'd brought the boy to desire--his own death, rather than to endure another session of this.

The barbed wire changed to fire and Severus remembered how he'd felt as the Dark Lord watched him slowly burning to death. Images of other tortures, some of them more heinous even than Petunia Dursley being systematically raped to death, filled Severus' thoughts. A shudder pounded through Severus' mind as he stared at Potter's barrier.

How many times had Severus himself silently wished for the release of death by the hand of the one who had tortured him?

Severus abruptly stilled his efforts to drive the barrier down. He forced his mind away, giving Potter more space.

Confusion, and then suspicion, washed over the barrier. The barrier strengthened, as if in preparation for an attack.

I am not here to attack you. You are trapped behind a barrier.

Severus could not have said where the explanation came from, but he waited for a response--if there was to be any from the parts of Potter's mind that were aware of his presence.

Abruptly, an image of Potter crouching behind a wall invaded Severus' mind. The green eyes were bright with wary distrust.

Umbridge's curse created this barrier to trap you.

Severus knew that rational explanations would not help the impulsive boy. Son of James Potter--cared only for himself.

Potter's image sharpened in Severus' mind. There was a door against the wall, and Potter seemed smaller than he really was--smaller even than he had been when he'd first entered the Great Hall, though his clothes were so big that they must have been meant for someone three times his size.

There were loud voices calling from somewhere off in the distance.

Freak, the voices said. And the space began to shake around Potter. Potter grit his small set of teeth, waiting it out. The shouting didn't end though. And the miniature version of Potter put his fists to his eyes. Severus understood the gesture immediately. A scared little boy trying desperately not to cry.

Severus closed his mind from the image, even as he wondered who Potter had been hiding from then.

Severus focused on the barrier in front of him. Potter's fear had trapped him once again.

I will not hurt you.

As the promise left his mind, Severus wondered how much it would take to harm a Gryffindor.

Severus brushed against the barrier. Potter made no protest this time. Severus applied tentative pressure, waiting for Potter to rear back. But Potter made no sound. And cracks began to appear along the towering wall.

We need to hurry.

Severus reached toward the wall, scoffing in agitation at his own word choice. We. There was no we in this scenario. Severus was, as always, the one who had to save the ungrateful boy's hide. After all, this was the boy who had been handed every-

Chunks of wall began to fall.

They were being pushed from the other side.

Jagged slabs of wall scraped against one another as they began to plummet toward Severus. Severus, finally realizing that he was gaping like one of his idiot first years, began scrabbling at the wall with as much force and speed as he could.

Dust and debris rained down on him, until finally, in a great cascading hiss, the wall crumbled.

Potter, breathing heavily, stared at him from the other side.

And then without having commanded it, disorientation swam around Severus as, together, they were ejected from Potter's mind.

And Potter continued to stare at him with cloudy eyes, though he was lying on the floor in Black's sitting room now.

The haze cleared slowly from Potter's eyes, and with a jerky movement of his palms against the floor, he tried to sit up. But his arms gave way, and he slumped back to the hard floor, only having managed to move a mere centimeter.

There was a sheen of sweat on his face, his chest was heaving, and he was still staring.

With his lips turned down, Severus dug his fingers into Potter's shoulder, and pulled him up sharply. Potter's hands hung limply between his knees, his head drooping a little.

But finally Potter stirred again, and Severus realized his fingers were still tightly gripping Potter's shoulder. He immediately uncurled them. Potter reached a hand up and began massaging the spot absently. He sat up a little, still looking too unsteady to stand.

"Don't move," Severus snapped. Potter's head came up, confusion glazing his eyes once more.

"I..." The word was a croak.

Severus waved his wand in an impatient arc, calling for a glass of water from the kitchen. He shoved it toward Potter as soon as it appeared in his hand. The cool liquid slopped over the rim of the tall glass and splashed onto Potter's trousers.

Potter stared at the splotch as it spread slowly across his knee.

"Take it," Severus commanded.

Potter looked up again. With trembling fingers, he obeyed.

Lowering his hand, Severus' slowly dropped his gaze, focusing numbly on a small, tattered hole in the carpet. He tightened his chest against his own dense breathing, ignoring the steady thud of his heartbeat as he listened to the water slosh against Potter's throat.

--

"Again," Snape ordered brusquely.

Harry, panting heavily, nodded and raised his wand. Snape wasted no time. And as he had been all afternoon, he countered as many of the hexes and curses as he could. It wasn't good enough, as Snape wasted no time in telling him. But Harry knew this was what Sirius wanted, so he went on with it. He hadn't even snapped at Snape once.

"Infligo!" Snape cried, and in the next instant, Harry was being slammed with incredible force into the wall behind him. Harry's groan of pain followed him all the way to the floor, and then he was staring dazedly up at Snape.

"Shit," was all he could think to utter. And even that sounded completely nonsensical.

He watched blearily as Snape waved his wand. "Slight concussion," Snape informed him blandly. A barked, "Stop moving!" quickly followed. Harry froze. He listened as Snape growled out a stream of Latin. And finally, Snape ordered, in a slightly less furious voice, "Sit up slowly, but do not get up."

Using his shoulder for leverage, and wincing at it made contact with the wall, Harry slowly slid up the wall until he was mostly upright. His left ear was tingling with heat from the impact.

He looked up at the creaking of rusted springs. Snape was easing himself carefully into a nearby chair. His features were pasty, even for him. Well, they had been dueling for a long time--and Snape was still supposed to be recovering. But dueling had been Snape's suggestion, not Harry's.

In case Snape had any plans to continue, Harry said as he carefully shifted his aching shoulder, "I don't think I can do much more tonight."

Snape's eyes flicked toward him for only a brief instant before re-settling on the flickering fire. "Obviously."

Harry's fingers carefully probed the side of his shoulder, wincing as they skated over the tender flesh. "I'll just go upstairs then, and lie down-"

"You will stay right there." Snape's voice, like a whip-crack, had Harry frozen again.

"But if I lie down, I can just go to sleep," he couldn't help but protest. If they weren't going to duel, there was no reason to stay in this reality with Snape.

"Did you not hear me say you were concussed?" Snape demanded. "Or are you simply too stupid to understand what that means?"

Harry bristled, but he shoved down the urge to snap back at the professor as the obvious finally occurred to him. No, he wasn't too stupid. He'd simply been too eager at the thought of seeing Sirius, to pay much attention to the facts. "Right," he said with sigh. "You can't sleep with a concussion."

Snape curled a lip, but said nothing. Obviously finding Harry's comment too inane to bother with.

Harry let his head fall against the wall. He stared at the cracked and faded ceiling, wondering how long Snape was going to insist he sit here. With nothing but silence stretching between them.

--

Harry sat up as soon as he opened his eyes. He sighed in relief as soon as he twisted around. Sirius was sitting beside him, snoring lightly. Harry smiled and relaxed, leaning his back against the headboard, moving quietly so he wouldn't disturb his godfather. Remembering what Snape had told him--ordered him, more like--Harry reached inside the collar of his jersey and wrapped his fingers around the amulet Snape had given him all those days ago in the Hogwarts' infirmary.

The amulet warmed at his touch, just like Snape had said it would. The warmth quickly faded away, and Harry waited for an answering glow--for Snape to acknowledge that he'd receieved the message... if he could. But there was no answer, and after what seemed like an incredibly long wait, Harry dropped the amulet back to his chest with a heavy sigh.

He turned as he felt Sirius shifting beside him.

"Harry?" he asked groggily.

"No-" Harry gave his godfather a half-smile as he rolled his eyes, "-it's Kreacher."

Sirius grinned even before the sleep had cleared from his eyes. "Very funny," he grumbled as he straightened up. He hooked Harry's neck in the crook of his arm and gave him a playful shake.

"Oy!" Harry protested with a laugh, but he let himself be pulled close to Sirius' side. Sirius rumpled his hair before releasing him. "Waiting up for me, were you?" Harry asked, pitching his voice to be nonchalant, but not really succeeding. Sirius smiled ruefully at him as he resettled himself against the headboard once more.

"I don't really like the thought of you alone with Snape," he admitted with a shrug. Harry nodded, but something must have shown on his face, because the smile abruptly vanished from Sirius' face. "Did something happen?"

Harry studied his hands for a second before meeting his godfather's worried gaze, and found he couldn't lie or even try to smooth over the truth. "I had another Crucio attack," he admitted quietly. Sirius stiffened, making Harry shake his head quickly. "It wasn't Snape's fault--he was just trying to figure out how all of this-" he waved vaguely, "-happened and I reacted out of a habit, I guess." And because Sirius was still frowning, Harry explained what had followed. How he'd helped Snape--how he'd helped himself this time, instead of being a victim.

A funny look stole over Sirius' face.

"What?"

Sirius smiled at him again, and this one was a good deal more solemn ...though Harry wasn't certain how one of Sirius' smiles could be solemn.

"I keep wondering how you can only be fifteen."

"Not for much longer," Harry said with a grin.

"Nearly sixteen," Sirius corrected with a chuckle, "and more strength than I ever had at your age. More strength," he added soberly, "than I have even now."

"That isn't so," Harry said quickly, thinking of how much Sirius' influence had helped changed his own attitude toward Snape.

"You forced yourself to trust Snape," Sirius said quietly, as if that said it all, and perhaps it did. Except, Harry realized, that Sirius had no idea how much strength Harry had taken from him. And no matter what Sirius said, Harry had needed that strength to pull himself out from behind that barrier in his mind.

Harry drew his knees up to his chest, and rested his chin on top, feeling all of a sudden subdued as he gazed at Sirius. "Snape told me to try to contact him with that amulet he gave me in the Infirmary. He didn't respond. Only one of the realities exists at a time." Harry pursed his lips. "Where ever I am..."

Sirius rested his shoulders against the heavy oak headboard, eyeing Harry thoughtfully. "They came together once," he pointed out. "We'll simply have to find a way to make them stay together permanently."

Harry shook his head, letting his hands slide past his knees dejectedly. "But we don't even know how it happened." He swallowed. "Snape even used Legilimency after that first botched attempt-" Harry grimaced as Sirius' stiffened. "-and still we don't know anything."

Sirius leaned forward, purposefully meeting Harry's eyes. "We'll just have to find a way, Harry. There isn't any other option. You can't keep going from reality to reality, as you have been. It's frankly a wonder you haven't gone mad from lack of sleep yet."

Harry pressed his forehead tiredly into his knees. He gasped as Sirius squeezed his shoulder--it was still tender.

Sirius snatched his hand away. "What is it?"

Harry raised his head. "Snape and I were dueling. Still a bit sore," he said with a shrug. He was too tired to worry about a little bruised flesh.

"A bit?" Sirius returned with raised eyebrows. "I barely touched you."

Harry smiled a little, rueful. "Snape's taking this training business very seriously."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, but instead of lambasting Snape, he gestured to Harry's shirt. "Well?" he demanded, a tad impatiently. "Let me have a look, so we can get you straightened out."

"I'm all right," Harry protested, but Sirius simply crooked his fingers toward himself, so Harry, with a mountainous sigh, turned and shimmied out of his shirt. The walls' glow intensified at Sirius' order. Sirius held Harry's arms lightly as he silently looked over the damage.

"Why the hell didn't he give you any Bruise Salve?"

Harry shifted. "Er...well, he did offer..."

"Why didn't you take it?!"

Harry twisted around. Sirius was glaring at him, his arms folded across his chest.

"Well..." Harry said as his cheeks glowed. "...I didn't want Snape to think I was a baby. I didn't think it was all that bad-"

"You look like you've been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs!"

"I do?"

"Yes!" Sirius raked a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head in exasperation. He sighed. "Come along," he said, resignedly eyeing Harry's back again. "We'll probably have to use the entire jar..."

Harry groaned, and flopped back onto the bed, his arms spread wide. He winced as his back made contact with the covers. Sirius gave him a knowing look, so Harry sighed and picked himself up off the bed, gathering his crumpled shirt as he stood.

Sirius gave him a sidelong look as they walked out of Sirius' room together. "I wouldn't think any of less of you for asking for something for the pain."

Harry looked up at the quiet words. "Yeah, I know," he said, not looking away even as he flushed slightly. He didn't mention that he had intended to ask eventually. But Sirius smiled at him anyway, understanding.

He rumpled Harry's hair as they started down the stairs. "We'll find you something to eat while you're drowning in salve... and a flannel for your eyes. You've got circles."