Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Invictus	By : starcrossedkayla Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 13268 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
The corresponding NoG chapter to this is Chapter 3.

It sometimes seemed that just when Severus became convinced that he needed something, the universe provided him with exactly that, but a twisted version of it, just to prove to him happiness was not something he deserved. After days of limited human interaction (and he did not consider dealing with Potter proper interaction), a pack of Death Eaters descended on the prison, led by Avery Senior, who left shortly after with barely a nod of recognition to Severus.

Whilst the individuals sent to set up an elegant dinner stayed out of his way, they and the cleaning crew had to be watched to be certain they didn't approach the cellar. It made the added individuals come to help him brew unnecessary. If the Dark Lord was so concerned about who had access to Potter, then why send these low-ranking Death Eaters? Were they all to be Obliviated or killed afterwards?

Potter hadn't woken after the incident the day before, and Severus fed him more sleeping potions to ensure that he wouldn't wake after the original ones wore off. After casting the viewing spell in his lab to spy on the workers, he retreated to Potter's cage, where he unchained the boy and floated him over to the table. The Dark Lord would probably demand to view Potter, if nothing else, so Severus carefully trimmed the uneven nails, cut the obnoxious hair down to a manageable level, and, after ensuring that Potter could not move his head, shaved his jaw with the new wizarding razor he'd ordered.

Even though the wizarding razor only caused a pinch rather than a nick when pressed too hard against the skin, Severus still had to be extremely careful navigating it around the unfamiliar contours of Potter's face. He'd have to find a magical way to quickly shave the boy in the future; this procedure was too tedious to rely on regularly. He already had plenty of mindless chores to occupy his time, and the less time he spent dealing with Potter, the better. Perhaps he should buy one of those obnoxious books on how to run a household.

With Potter tidied and suitable for presentation, he worked the clothes off the limp frame, and set them on one of the chairs after folding. Hopefully the Dark Lord had thought to bring a Healer to examine their patient, but if he hadn't, then Severus ought to be sure Potter had recovered enough to be displayed and tortured. The Dark Lord did enjoy his entertainment.

Even though all his earlier examinations had suggested Potter had healed well enough, Severus still ran the basic tests: monitoring vitals, examining flexibility, and searching for signs of rejection of the added flesh. The pinkish tint to the forehead scar suggested that Potter's true skin had begun dominating his face. Only slight marks remained other than three main scars: the lightning bolt, the words on his hand, and the oval wound on his chest.

After he finished his examination, he floated Potter back to the bed naked. It was best to bring him before the Dark Lord without clothes, as the cloth would likely be destroyed or damaged in what would occur later.

After feeding a mild healing potion that would take effect after a short period of time, to the unconscious form, he fashioned himself a comfortable workstation where he could read and respond to his newest batch of post.

He was there still, working, when several individuals Apparated to the house, arriving in the kitchen. The Dark Lord had arrived. Very few had the ability to Apparate inside the house. Turning back to his post, he followed their journey through the house, to the cellar. He had set multiple wards over the cellar door - obvious ones - and when the Dark Lord broke through them, he stood, tucking the mirror into his pocket and casting the viewing spell, and headed off to greet his Master with wand in hand.

They met in the library. The Dark Lord, dressed in a regal outfit of voluminous black robes with silver trim, marched down the stairs, followed by Lucius, Bellatrix, Avery Senior, and Mulciber Senior. His most trusted associates. At least those still in town and not sent on missions to other parts of the world.

"My Lord." He moved to the side and bowed, deeply, waiting for the Dark Lord to sail past him before he rose and followed. Bellatrix sneered at him as she trotted after the Dark Lord into Potter's cage; the others ignored him.

"Nasty little thing," said Bellatrix as she glared at Potter's nude form sprawled out across the sheets.

"He's recovered?" The Dark Lord's eyes fixed solidly on Potter as if he were the only entity in the room.

"As much as I am able to ascertain, my Lord," Severus answered, carefully placing his words. "We will most likely need to limit our . . . festivities until his new skin is fully re-established."

"Wake him," commanded the Dark Lord.

Before Severus could finish retrieving the revival potion from his robes, Bellatrix had darted to the side of the bed and slapped the boy so hard, the crack rang out as loud as a thunderclap. Severus swept to her side and grabbed her wrist before she could deliver another blow. "Stop it. He'll not wake without my help."

She jerked her wrist away from him with an expression of horror as if he had got sick all over her dress rather than grabbed her hand. She shot her gaze to the Dark Lord, as if they were children at play, and she expected Severus to be punished. Sneaking a look at the Dark Lord, Severus saw only amusement on the alien face and knew he would have to act quickly to mitigate as many further attacks as possible. He gently examined Potter's face, as if he expected the blow to have done more damage than he knew it had. Potter's skin had set rather well, and he doubted a hit, even one as strong as that, could have caused much damage, but if Potter were to remain prisoner here, the more damaged he appeared, the less they would harm him. "His skin has not fully recovered," he said to the others. "Nothing should be done to his face."

"We'll eat dinner first," said the Dark Lord. "Severus, fix him for now."

"Yes, my Lord." Severus made a show of fetching a healing salve from his robes and carefully applying it to the light gouges Bellatrix's nails had left on Potter's face. Bellatrix hissed like a cat and puffed herself up, no doubt to complain and whinge, but she stopped when the Dark Lord waved her away with his hand.

"Go upstairs," he ordered, and the four of them bowed and left. Once they were gone, the Dark Lord asked, "How many of his memories have been recovered?"

"Not enough, my Lord," Severus said. And then, because he knew it would be the only way he could possibly accomplish what Albus wanted, he said, "With my Lord's permission, I'd like to play a few mind games with him."

Without eyebrows or nose, the Dark Lord's facial features never changed much, and when he stood for several seconds, just staring at Severus, Severus couldn't quite tell if he was about to be Crucio'd or congratulated. After a moment, the Dark Lord asked, "What do you propose to do?"

Success! Severus didn't allow a single twitch of flesh to show his relief. "As you are aware, he is an orphan, raised by abusive relatives and stripped of his loved ones." He let a nasty smile curve on his face. "We've done quite well in eliminating his closest allies and friends. The cupboard by the bathroom will remind him of where he spent the early years of his life, and it was quite clever of you to install it, but he will be easy to control without pain if I convince him that I am an ally."

The Dark Lord snorted. "Do you intend to play the boy the way you played Dumbledore?"

Albus had always seen straight through him. He ignored the twinge of melancholy and laughed a low, dark laugh. "I admit, I miss the thrill. I do not intend to grovel or pretend to be his servant, but I am curious as to how far a little fake kindness can go to earning the boy's compliance. Albus" He sneered the name, "always said that the boy's greatest strength was his ability to love." They both laughed over that for a moment before Severus continued, "I suspect that within that thick skull of his I can find facts too small to be properly gleaned through the art of Legilimency. There could be minor details concerning the habits of the Order members and other such triviality which would be time-consuming to force out, but could be inadvertently revealed in small talk. He's never been clever, and the Order trusted him. If nothing else, keeping him confused will make him less useful to the Order if we should ever decide to temporarily release him in order to set a trap." He doubted the Dark Lord would ever allow it, but he had to try to plant the idea.

His voice light, the Dark Lord said, "You never fail to amuse me, Severus. Your ideas are beyond those of anyone else."

Even though there was nothing Severus wanted more than to strike down the man before him, the praise still straightened his spine and warmed him.

The Dark Lord smiled. "You are clever beyond your years. I will never forget what you've given to me."

No. Don't let it get to you. Severus did his best to smile back. These moments could be worse than the Dark Lord's anger because, despite everything that had happened, some part of him still craved the fulfilment of the promise he had been given on that night when he took the Dark Mark. Some part of him still hoped, needed, for it to come true.

Thankfully, the Dark Lord turned away, saying, "Have him wake in an hour," before he left.

Severus took several breaths before he turned back to Potter and traced his fingers over the now-healed flesh on Potter's cheek. "Your hatred can't possibly match mine."

After carefully feeding Potter enough Alertness Potion to rouse him in an hour, he headed upstairs to the dinner table, where Yaxley, Avery, and Selwyn were now also waiting. He was seated fifth, behind Avery Senior, Lucius, Mulciber and Yaxley. How on earth had Lucius reached the second position so quickly after what had happened in the Ministry? How had he himself fallen to fifth, behind Yaxley? The Dark Lord loved to set them against each other, and the compliments were most likely delivered to off-set the table arrangement, but still, it was a slap in the face, especially to be put across from Bellatrix!

She, delighted to see him slide down the rank, cocked an eyebrow at him in challenge. Avery, last, but happy to be included in the group, shot him a subtle look of sympathy.

When the Dark Lord sat at the head of the table, no one spoke unless spoken to, unless they had something of importance to say. In theory, anyway. The Death Eaters strove to start conversations, especially those without much power, who were seated in small groups. Avery spoke first, soon after the salads appeared.

"My Lord," he said. "You will be pleased to know arrests have risen threefold over this past month. Every day we catch more and more of these Mudbloods. It won't take long before the UK is cleansed."

"We should lock up the half-breeds as well," said Bellatrix, staring at Severus. "It's the only way to ensure that our blood remains unsullied."

She always attacked him in front of the Dark Lord and he ignored her, focusing on his food.

Lucius said to the Dark Lord, "Perhaps we expand the mandatory register of all those with Muggle parentage to include the past . . . five generations. Those polluted will be sent to remedial schools before they are allowed to enter Hogwarts. The greater the contamination, the longer they will require proper education."

Despite his fervent beliefs, Lucius had never once disparaged Severus for his half-blood status. If the two of them had been alone, he would've whipped out his wand, but the Dark Lord did not permit anyone other than himself to hold a wand at the table. Do you really want to make an enemy of me? He fixed his gaze on Lucius, who hadn't the guts to look back at him.

"Perhaps," said the Dark Lord. "What do you think, Severus?"

He was still Headmaster, but he couldn't help but feel as though venom tinged the question. Keeping Potter's revelation locked away tightly in the back of his mind, he evenly said to Lucius, "You would propose to spend more money and time on those you deem less worthy?"

Lucius met his eyes, his gaze the coldest that Severus had ever received from him. "So you agree it is a waste of money?"

Everyone else at the table fell quiet, all eyes on the two of them. Severus wasn't sure how many of them knew about his status, but he suspected Bellatrix had spread it throughout the ranks. Calmly, he said, "If we are to separate them out, then we should perform blood tests to make sure that there aren't any bastards hidden amongst the supposedly pure of blood." He curved in his lips in a slight smile. "One hears rumours about some of the pure-blooded women, as I'm sure you know."

Bellatrix let out a cry of rage and hissed, "How dare you speak that way about my sister!"

He hadn't been referring to Lucius's wife, but he couldn't resist a dig at Bellatrix. "Why, Bellatrix, I said no such thing. I wonder why your thoughts fly straight to your sister. Have you something to tell us?"

She whipped out her wand and, in an instant, everyone had their wand in hand.

"Expelliarmus!" The Dark Lord excelled at duelling, and none of them stood a chance of keeping their wands, all of which he caught in his hand.

Severus surreptitiously lifted his right arm on the table, ready to cast with Albus's wand should the need arise. He'd mapped out the rooms and knew the placement of the furniture and likely exits. Across him, Bellatrix was breathing heavily, her nostrils flaring.

"Shall we eat?" asked the Dark Lord, his voice thick with amusement.

Severus had lost his appetite, and he had to concentrate to stop his fingers from shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through him, but he forced himself to take a bite of his food. Did they all stand against him? The Dark Lord had been uncharacteristically nice to him these past few days, but he assumed it was because of all that he'd accomplished. Selwyn hesitantly brought up a conversation on goblins, and what should be done with them, but Severus mostly ignored it. The way Dark Lord had forced Severus into the conversation wasn't enough of an insult that he could approach the powerful wizard and ask what he had done to offend. He would have to wait.

After desert, the Dark Lord asked, "Has Potter awakened?"

Severus glanced into the mirror, where he saw Potter shifting slightly. "He's reviving. He should be fully awake in a few minutes."

The Dark Lord held a wand out in his palm. "Lucius, bring him to the room with my throne."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius fetched his wand, then swept away.

The Dark Lord stood. "I feel that a little entertainment is in order. Follow me." He led them to the throne room, where he turned and stood by the door, handing out wands as they passed through. Severus, not wanting to leave his back open to any of them, lingered behind, and when he passed through the doorway, the Dark Lord held onto the wand a few seconds more than necessary, his crimson eyes impenetrable.

Severus once thought he knew where he stood. Swallowing hard, he slid his wand into place.

Lazily, the Dark Lord conjured a set of manacles attached by a chain to the ceiling, and when Lucius pulled a semi-conscious Potter into the room, he chained the boy in place, pulling his hands high above his head.

Bellatrix, never able to keep quiet, asked, "May I play with your new toy, my Lord?"

"Later," said the Dark Lord with affection. "You had your fun last time. Severus." He nodded in his direction

He had been given the reward of torturing Potter? He hadn't prepared for it. Why didn't the Dark Lord take the honour for himself? Was this supposed to make up for being seated fifth, or was the Dark Lord trying to play as many games of favouritism as he could? If this was to be a reward, then he needed to treat it like a show. He had to impress the others and the Dark Lord as well. Potter hadn't fully recovered enough for some forms of torture, and he didn't want to do anything too damaging, lest he be forced to waste his time healing the boy.

If the other Death Eaters intended to derogate him for his half-blood status, he might as well embrace his Muggle side. He pulled off his outer robe and, casting first the spells that protected the few items kept in hidden pockets, transformed the cloth into a whip. He had a vague idea how a whip should look and work, never having used one before, but magic guided him where his memory and intellect could not. He put a silent spell into the lash, and when it struck, it hit hard, with a satisfying crack that rang throughout the room.

Potter's back tensed, his hands tightening on the chains, but he didn't scream, just as Severus had suspected He was too stubborn.

Severus didn't care either way. He'd always wanted to torture James.

Arrogant bastard. Crack.

Potter shuddered, but his skin remained unchanged. Shouldn't the skin turn red? Harder, perhaps. He cast a mild irritant into the whip as well.

Suck-up. Crack.

Yes, a nice, wide strip of red.

You think you're special because you can catch a ball. Crack.

Should it bleed? Maybe after a bit. It might look suspicious if Potter bled too early. He sneaked a glance at the Dark Lord, who was the only one focused on the display instead of conversation. The impassive face didn't reveal anything and Severus changed the spell so the lash would hit with a louder sound.

Crack!

There, satisfaction on the alien face. The others remained unimpressed, but of course they would pretend to be bored by the displays of others.

His goal accomplished, he focused on the bared back before him, determined to put on a good show and to take out some of his anger. He'd been storing the insults for years and hadn't run out before the Dark Lord stood and waved him away from Potter's bloody torso.

The Dark Lord swept across the floor, his eyes locked on Potter's face. "You are beautiful in your suffering," he said, running his fingers over Potter's cheek. "What were you doing before I caught you?"

Severus had suspected that the Dark Lord would pretend to be in Potter's mind for the first time in front of the others, and focused on cleaning the blood out of his transfigured cloth.

When the Dark Lord said, "They did have fun with you when you were first caught. I've never heard anyone scream like that before," Severus guessed the part he should play in front of the others and said, "My Lord, the boy appears to have no memory of his capture or our celebration afterwards. I suspect the head injury he sustained was responsible for that unfortunate outcome."

"No matter." The Dark Lord released Potter's chin and returned to his throne. "We will give him new memories. Begin, Severus."

Time to punish the son. He transferred the whip to his left hand, pretending that his right arm had grown tired, even though the spell provided most of the force.

For looking in my Pensieve. He struck hard, harder than he intended and Potter released a sharp cry as a chunk of skin peeled away from his back. Too much damage and healing would be difficult, so Severus reduced the force of the next lashing, targeting lower where the skin hadn't sustained much damage yet.

For being so bloody stupid and useless. Crack!

For stealing from my potions storeroom. Crack!

He hadn't got far when the Dark Lord motioned for him to stop. "You'll need to revive him."

Severus pretended to examine the injuries on Potter's back, pressing his fingers lightly against the damaged skin. "How many days do you wish me to spend healing him?"

"No more than two."

Adopting an expression of disappointment, Severus said, "Then I should return him to his cage. He's still weak."

"He always was," said Avery, his eyes feasting on the blood.

The Dark Lord waved his hand and the chain and manacles disappeared, sending Potter tumbling to the floor.

"Return him," said the Dark Lord, and Avery had his wand out and ready before Severus could finish restoring his robe.

The Dark Lord cast a secrecy spell as he spoke to Bellatrix and Lucius. Severus strode toward the cellar to fix Potter, but the Dark Lord stopped him by calling, "Severus, return to me." He waved his hand and the others left.

"My Lord?" Severus obediently approached the dais.

The Dark Lord swept forward and grabbed Severus's shoulders, sending irritating prickles all throughout his body. Although he tried not to react, he instinctively rebelled against the spell. The Dark Lord interrupted the counter-curse before it fully formed, his eyes never leaving Severus's as he pushed his way inside.

"Show me everything that has happened since we last parted."

He'd been preparing for this, but his expectation of the Dark Lord's Legilimency was nothing like the reality. He'd trained with Albus again and again, but still, as he felt the powerful wizard plough through his mind, he had to put everything into protecting his hidden memories.

The Dark Lord's fingers tightened and painful little shocks of electricity flowed through Severus's upper arms. Then, as abruptly as the attack had begun, it ended. His vision still swimming with his own memories, Severus staggered over to the wall to support himself while he caught his breath.

"The boy should not have been let out of your sight."

Shit. He knew it was coming, but nothing could prepare him for the Cruciatus. He popped one of the pain relievers in his arm and tried not to scream when the curse hit.

Pain. Sharp and blinding pain was all he knew and then it disappeared as swiftly as it had come. For an unguarded moment, he thought, 'That's it?'

As the Dark Lord walked away, he ordered, "Have Potter ready for our next gathering three days from now."

He was too caught up in catching his breath to acknowledge he’d heard the order. Really, that had been downright merciful.

When the Dark Lord had swept completely out of sight, and he no longer felt as though his heart would burst from his chest, he headed down to the cellar, only to find Avery on top of Potter.

Exasperated, he snapped, "Are you trying to get me in trouble? You're not supposed to hurt the boy!"

"I'm not hurting him," Avery muttered, his wand out and pointed at Potter's head. "I'm trying to revive him."

Severus stripped off his outer robe and dropped it over a chair. "You're sitting on his arse, which I just whipped. You're hurting him."

"Oh," said Avery, glancing down at the bloodied body beneath him. He carefully removed himself from Potter, and stood by the side of the bed. He'd tied the boy spread-eagle, and Severus removed the bonds with a few flicks of his wand as he sat on the bed.

Avery casually asked, "Have you been raping him?"

Severus openly displayed his disgust. "No, of course not. He is naked because the Dark Lord wishes it." He didn't have quite the healing salve he'd need to repair the damage to Potter's back. To Avery, he said, "Fetch the burn salve from the cabinet in the bathroom. Alohamora will open it."

He'd never seen the consequences of a real whipping, but his magical creation had left large welts of rope-burnt flesh, as well as sharp, long lashes that broke apart the skin and sank into the flesh. He'd managed to prevent any of the cuts from sinking deep, except the two which resulted in the flayed patch of skin. Next time, he'd have to change the spell slightly.

Avery returned just after Severus had finished applying an antiseptic. He passed the jar of salve to Severus and took a seat in one of the chairs before saying, "I was hoping to speak to you tonight to warn you that Lucius is no friend of yours, but I reckon you've already figured it out."

Severus doubted that Avery had intended to warn him; he'd probably seen the conflict and decided to capitalise on it, but there was no harm in pretending to believe such a claim. "What else has he done?"

"He wants to be Headmaster."

"He what?" Potter's back forgotten, Severus whirled to face Avery, hoping to see some sign of deceit. "He can't. He needs to serve as a professor for at least three years before he can take the post."

The relish crept through his thin veneer of concern as Avery shrugged and said, "He won't really be Headmaster, but he's trying to set it up so that he's in charge of the lesson plans."

He would kill Lucius. Although he knew Avery wouldn't give a competent answer, he still asked, "What are his chances?" If nothing else, it would probably inspire Avery to keep him updated.

Avery leant back in his chair. "Hard to say. The Dark Lord has yet to express his preference."

Avery didn't know shit. The Dark Lord, while he concerned himself with Hogwarts, deemed the administration of the school beneath him, and hadn't once stepped in. The Board of Governors had given Severus the title of Headmaster and appointed the Carrows. If Lucius was to take the position, then the Dark Lord would not interfere, unless he thought it would disrupt his plans. He hadn't stood up for Severus at dinner, which meant that he most likely would not respond to an appeal to stop Lucius.

His thoughts racing, Severus slowly screwed the lid off the salve jar and dipped his fingers in the sticky mess. He stared at his fingers as they rubbed the potion into Potter's thighs. He needed to respond to Narcissa's message. He now needed her help. "Does the Dark Lord still hold regular meetings at Malfoy Manor?"

"He does. They aren't as selective as the ones here, of course. If you'd like, I can keep you updated on what occurs in our meetings."

Never very intelligent, Avery could be used to pass along information without his knowledge. He'd reveal more than he intended to "That would be most beneficial."

"Of course," Avery leant forward, greed infusing his voice, "it will take time for me to send you letters or convince the Dark Lord to give me access to this place. If you were to help me with my latest task, I'm sure I'll be able to devote more time to helping you."

As long as Severus had known him, Avery had never once completed a task entirely on his own. When he couldn't force or convince his peers or those below his rank to do his work, he turned to his father for help. Luckily, because of his laziness, he was rarely given important or difficult tasks, and Severus should be able to provide a bit of help for a decent amount of information in return. Not wanting to appear eager, lest Avery give him a lot of work, he pretended to think it over. After a moment, he said in a reluctant tone, "I might be able to help. What tasks have you been given?"

As eager as a child on Christmas morning, Avery explained in detail.
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Invictus