The Ivory Backbone

Chapter 8: The First Domino

Severus had barely corked the Escherichia when the Lupine’s Passing congealed. It smelled of fresh-cut grass and wet dog.

“Good. Perfect...” he muttered as he measured the potion into vials. “Triple batch should keep Cadogan busy for a while.”

He’d lied to Cadogan about the potion. Each batch yielded five doses, not one. He filled a rack of vials with the steaming greyish brew. A week ago, he would’ve felt a pang of guilt at the fates of fifteen of his fellow students whose futures included these vials. Now, however, all he could hope was that it would be enough to put him back in Cadogan’s good graces. The old man valued honesty above everything, and Severus had lied to him. But he was important...so important...to Severus’ plans.

He poked gently at the black goo in the smallest cauldron. A great bubble belched out a puff of foul green smoke. Severus sighed. Dragon’s blood, the strongest purgative in Sullivan’s stores, couldn’t separate the potion from Lily’s blood. Severus put the remaining fires out and drank the last of his Good As New. He tipped the smallest cauldron and watched the globs of tarry black fall into the drain. He couldn’t quite avoid the stench, hot and sulfuric, that assaulted him as he poured. He placed the cauldron with the bigger one that used to contain Lupine’s Passing. Then, he hauled the cauldron with his attempted love potion to the drain and poured it out. It poured like honey, slow and thick. Purple honey. He stacked the love potion cauldron with the others. The Good As New cauldron was already empty, so he simply pushed it next to the rest. He pulled his wand from his pocket and shot a quick degreasing spell at the whole lot of cauldrons. A shower of green sparks zipped around the great grey and black bellies, up to the rims and inside. The sparks disappeared and Severus picked up the rack of vials and hurried toward the other dungeon, where Cadogan was undoubtedly making his rounds.

Severus cringed as a choked scream was cut short by the lash. That could be him...that should be him...Without Sullivan’s intervention, that would be him. The next scream cut into Severus’ thoughts. He thought he recognized that scream. Probably Klingerman again. Supposedly, Kyle managed to get a detention every Potions class. Severus wouldn’t know. He didn’t have Potions with the Hufflepuffs.

The door to the whipping room in the back of the second dungeon was guarded by Filch. Filch had curled himself up against the doorjamb, smiling darkly at each lash.

“Evening, Severus. Whatcha got there? Goodies for Cadogan?” Filch spoke slowly as chains rattled over wood and a heavy weight fell to the floor. “He’s just finished with Klingerman for the night. He’ll be glad to see ya.”

The door to the whipping chamber opened with a low groan. Cadogan stood there, wiping the blood off his hands with a greasy rag. “Sev’rus! Wasn’t expecting you t’night. Don’t you have another werewolf t’ chase?”

“No sir.” Severus straightened his posture a bit. Maybe Cadogan wasn’t as mad as he thought.

“Thought I’d get to have yeh for detention,” Cadogan said, stroking his beard. “But Sullivan went in an’ mussed it up. Pity. Filch could have used you to oil the locks.”

“Or feed the cat,” Filch suggested.

“What did that snotty git make you do?”

“Mix potions,” Severus said.

“Canno’ he do it himself?” asked Cadogan, pretending to be shocked. “Stupid lout. I suppose he gave you that bruise?”

Severus touched his jaw lightly. “Yes sir.”

“Makes me sick.”

Severus elected to ignore that Cadogan had just finished lashing a boy bloody.

“What’s in those vials?” Filch asked, with a sadistic gleam in his eye.

“They’re for you.” Severus pushed the rack into Cadogan’s hands. “Lupine’s Passing, fifteen doses.”

“Bless me! This must have taken you forever!”

“It’s an apology. I’m sorry I lied about the Wolfsbane,” Severus studied the dirt in front of his shoes. “I just had to see a real werewolf. Just once.”

“Ah, yeh didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I thought it was right clever of you. Your grandfather would have been proud.” Cadogan examined the vials more closely. “But I’ll put them to good use, all the same.”

“What did you brew up for Sullivan?” Filch asked as Mr. Norris, their huge ginger tomcat, curled up in his lap.

“A poison,” Severus said under his breath. “I didn’t want to, but he threatened something awful if I didn’t.”

Cadogan chewed his tongue thoughtfully. A minute later, he spoke. “I think he might be tryin’ something against Madame Hooch.”

“Is a job really worth killing for?” asked Severus.

“Maybe to him. He doesn’t like it when things don’t go his way.” As an afterthought, “You be careful with him, Sev’rus. He’s an angry, cruel man,” Cadogan added.

Severus nodded. “I have to meet him in the other dungeon soon.”

“Then go. Don’t piss him off by being late.” Cadogan handed the rack of vials to Filch. “Good luck.”

Severus nodded and went.

Sullivan was waiting for him in the potions dungeons. “Where have you been?”

“Walking Lily to her Common Room,” Severus said calmly.

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Sullivan grabbed Severus’ wrist and yanked it back. Severus yelped in pain and surprise as his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Sullivan twisted his wrist behind his back and pulled him up. Severus bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming as white-hot pain shot up his arm and through his shoulder. “You were with the Groundskeeper, weren’t you?”

“No sir,” Severus managed.

“Tell me the truth,” Sullivan placed his other hand around Severus’ throat. “Unless you want to suffer an unfortunate accident down here.” Sullivan squeezed.

Severus choked. He struggled against Sullivan, but the older man had muscles tightened by years of Quidditch. The potions dungeon faded in and out of focus as he used his free hand to swat at Sullivan. Sullivan released his throat and the world came back into focus.

“I was with him, okay?” Severus said, between gulps of air.

“Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sullivan simpered as he threw Severus back. Severus fell over a cauldron and tried to catch his breath. “What did you talk about?”

“Nothing!”

“Liar!” Sullivan slipped his wand out of his pocket and rolled up his sleeves. “You’re only making this hard on yourself.”

Severus tensed. On Sullivan’s forearm was a brand that glowed a muted red in the torchlight. A snake twined itself around a human skull and hissed menacingly.

“Do you know what this means?” Sullivan demanded, indicating the tattoo.

“The Dark Lord!” Severus felt sick and dizzy. If Sullivan was a Death Eater, he probably wouldn’t be above killing his students.

“Do you think that the death of a clumsy, stupid, useless boy would be of any consequence to me?” Sullivan’s nostrils flared and his brow furrowed. “Answer me!”

“No...” “He’s between me and the door...I still have my wand...Have to keep him talking...”

“This is how the game is played, Snape,” Sullivan said condescendingly. “You’re going to tell the truth. If you lie, there will be punishments. If you try to run, I won’t stop you. I’ll just take a walk to Gryffindor tower.”

Severus froze. “Lily...”

“Such a pretty girl. I’ve always liked them young.”

“Don’t touch her...” Severus growled.

“I won’t have to, if you cooperate. Give me your wand. Throw it across the floor.”

Severus pulled his wand out slowly and pushed it toward Sullivan. Sullivan pocketed it.

“Now, what did you talk to Cadogan about?” Sullivan smiled at him smugly.

Severus met his eyes and squared his shoulders. Calmly and deliberately, he said, “Nothing.”

“Crucio.”

The pain came so suddenly that Severus couldn’t scream. He felt razors course through him and gouge the flesh from his bones. Then he was screaming. The pain came in waves. Tearing, stabbing, piercing, burning, and pounding; each a separate agony, all in a row.

He lay on the stone floor in a puddle of blood and tears, sweating heavily and whimpering softly. He held up his hand and saw the blood. It was smeared all over his face and robes. Each move brought a reminder of the agony. Gingerly, he touched his face, feeling the little sparks of pain. He touched his nose and realized where all the blood came from. A migraine drilled into his temples and he fought the urge to massage them. Instead, he pulled himself into a semi-sitting position.

Sullivan laughed deep and throaty at Severus’ futile attempts to sit up. “I’ve been wanting to do that to you since your first year. How did it feel, Snape? Did it hurt?”

Severus’ arm slipped in the puddle of blood and he slumped back to the floor. He couldn’t quite bite back the cry of pain and sparkles traced paths of light in his peripheral vision.

Sullivan stood over him, glowering. “I should leave you in your dormitory like this...As an early birthday present to Lucius.” He laughed his horrible, throaty laugh. “You’re too weak to fight him off, aren’t you?”

Severus tried to say something, but the best he could manage was a low gurgle.

Sullivan pulled a flask from his robes and opened it. He roughly propped Severus up and brought the flask to his lips. Severus recognized the taste of Good As New (though unusually weak) and drank greedily. Eventually, Sullivan pocketed the flask and let Severus fall back to the ground.

“One more time. What did you and that sadistic old geezer talk about?”

Severus took in a deep breath as the last sharp pain dulled to a steady ache. He steeled himself. “Nothing.”

Sullivan smirked. “Crucio.”

Severus squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to scream. The screams came soon enough, blending horribly with Sullivan’s laughter. Severus felt his nose gush again. He didn’t notice the blows raining down on him at first, but soon the old pain faded and each new pain surfaced. Sullivan was screaming and cursing about blood on his robes. Severus felt almost happy that he’d managed to stain something important to Sullivan. Maybe someone would notice the blood after he died. Maybe they’d seek justice for him.

He didn’t notice the loud thud that came without a rush of fresh pain. He felt something very heavy fall on him, which caused all his raw nerve endings to send a huge jolt of pain that propelled him into blissful unconsciousness.