Chapter Text
Severus was on the marble floor, fingers trying to dig into the ground just so he could find some support to hold himself back from screaming. But the floor was smooth and all the clawing he was doing did nothing except break his nails in the most excruciating manner. His efforts, or lack thereof, went ignored by the Dark Lord whom did not back down nor spare an ounce of sympathy for Severus. Why would he? Potter had, yet again, escaped with his life, leaving Severus and the rest of his comrades to bear the Dark Lord's wrath. Only, Severus had arrived late which meant everyone else had had their fill of the Cruciatus Curse and now watched from the corner as a singular body was tossed from one end to the other.
The room was silent, an almost ominous sign of what was to come. He was going to die, surely. There was no way anyone could withstand such pain for all this time, not unless they weren't human. And that is exactly how Severus felt as the white-hot pain struck him from head to toe. He was an animal - a dog howling for its master to be put down or put out of this misery. His head was thrown back as he screamed, his own voice unrecognizable, as he begged for the first time in his life to be shown mercy. There was no such thing as dignity or pride, not at this moment. He welcomed Death if it would come. But the Dark Lord was ever so careful that he was spared of that sentence. Each Cruciatus was delivered with precision and deliberation, giving him a fleeting glimpse of death before pulling him back into his wretched existence once more.
"Please," he roared, tears streaming down his face as he tried to make sense of the world around him. Did he really deserve to suffer like this? Was he not a soul that was owed some leniency to the agony he was feeling? Dumbledore had told him once that the pain of remorse was so powerful it could destroy a person. Was this remorse then for all the bad he had done in the world? When this was over and he was dead, would he be cleared of his sins? Would he be free?
"Where were you?" the Dark Lord asked at last, pulling his wand back for a brief moment. "You, of all people, were supposed to have caught that little boy. WHERE WERE YOU, SEVERUS?"
Severus nearly choked on his own spit. His throat was dry, so parched was he that he would do anything for a drop of water.
"Please," was all he could rasp before his body contorted like a puppet on broken strings.
"I'm here," said Regulus' voice from somewhere around the room. "I'm here, Severus. Just hold on-just a little while longer-"
He had forgotten about Regulus. The dead boy had just appeared out of nowhere, looking just as he had when Severus had seen him at that pub for the last time, a sure sign that his mind was slipping away from him yet again. He had not taken the Mandrake roots - it would only be a matter of hours or minutes before his seizures would return.
"How many times will you fool me? How many times will you stall your own fate?" the Dark Lord hissed.
But Severus was slipping away. His body had turned limp and he could no longer feel his arms or his legs.
"NO!" the Dark Lord hissed. "YOU WILL NOT DIE!"
But it was not a command Severus could obey. He felt as though he were floating over clouds, his body light as a feather as he twitched and turned, nerves surely damaged and irreparable. If he survived, he would be an invalid or a cripple.
"My Lord--"
A soft voice had spoken. The Dark Lord lifted his curse and whirled around to face the speaker that had now stepped forward.
Severus lay on the floor, panting. His eyes were half-open and through his hazy view he could see that it was Mulciber who had spoken out of turn. Severus knew it was a mistake to interrupt the Dark Lord but he could not find it in himself to feel bad for whatever was going to happen to Mulciber. He was spared, even if it was for a few minutes.
"If I may--My Lord-?"
Mulciber's voice was low and almost trembling. Had he been amongst those that had been punished earlier? Or had he been spared because of his supposed mission to help the Dark Lord break into Nurmengard?
"Severus was close to capturing Potter," said Mulciber. "I was there -- he attacked the Potter boy and there was blood and screaming...but it...it was the wrong one--"
What was he doing? Was he actually trying to defend him?
"Step back, Mulciber," said the Dark Lord in a soft, dangerous voice. "Your opinion is unneeded."
"B-but...My Lord...it would be...foolish to kill Severus," said Mulciber, "he-it is he who has been helping me with the p-prison-"
This caught the Dark Lord's interest. He turned just slightly so that the corner of his eyes were trained on Mulciber's shaking figure.
"The books!" exclaimed Mulciber, startled that he had gotten the Dark Lord's attention. "Most of them...are in languages I do not speak...or understand...but Severus--he knows. I believe that with his help...that I could...that I could figure a way inside of the prison--"
"Is this true?"
The question was now poised to Severus as the Dark Lord waited. Severus struggled to move, barely making it on his arms and legs as he looked up to the Dark Lord.
"Y-yes," he breathed as he glanced towards Mulciber.
He could feel the hair standing on his arms as the Dark Lord turned to Mulciber. His heart pounded hard and he looked to Mulciber, trying to warn him. But unlike Severus, Mulciber had not sensed the danger that both men were in as of this moment.
"You think you can tell me what I can do?" asked the Dark Lord.
Mulciber's eyes widened.
"You think you know better than I?"
"N-no, of course not, My L--"
The Dark Lord flicked his wand and there was an awful gurgling noise. Immediately, Regulus blocked Severus' view.
"Don't look, Sev," said Regulus and Severus did as he was told.
There were several thumping noises and an eerie silence. Mulciber never spoke again.
"You and you," said the Dark Lord. "Clean this mess up."
Severus' hand slipped from the sweat and he felt back onto the floor. The bottom of his teeth made a cracking noise as his jaw made contact with the ground. Severus drew blood but he did not cry out or make any other sound. He lay there, listening to the sound of his own shallow breathing as the Dark Lord approached him. Even in the dim light there was no mistaking the pool of crimson that moved in neat trickles over the floor close to where Mulciber had stood moments before.
He wondered if this was the end for him, too. Would he be torn limb from limb as Mulciber had? He had never pictured his death to be as gruesome...
"You will find me a way into Nurmengard," said the Dark Lord coldly.
When Severus did not answer, he felt the Dark Lord's foot dig into his ribs as he was forcefully splayed onto his back.
"Answer him," said Regulus in an urgent voice. "You must if you wish to live."
Did he wish to live?
"Answer," pressed Regulus.
"Y-yes, My Lord," said Severus through bloodied teeth.
"You will return to Hogwarts tonight," said the Dark Lord again. "With the Carrows. Kill anyone who interferes. If you do not succeed, I shall personally walk through those gates and destroy the school and everyone there."
"Yes, My Lord," said Severus again.
"I will hear no more excuses. Not from any of you. We will take the Ministry and Hogwarts at the same time. We will take everything and anything until there is nowhere else for Potter to hide. Kill anyone who tries to save him. Destroy their families. Their homes. Anyone who protects Potter must die."
The Dark Lord stooped down to grab Severus by his collar, dragging him up so he was on his knees. He saw two Death Eaters behind the Dark Lord, scooping up whatever was left of Mulciber with pale, stricken faces.
"Rotten egg, that's what you are," said the Dark Lord with a sneering face. "You turned Mulciber into one, just as you have Lucius Malfoy and his entire family. Make one more mistake, Severus, and I won't leave a single piece of you behind for anyone to remember you by."
Severus' lip quivered as his eyes fixed on the red slits staring back at him.
"Yes, My Lord."