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Torment Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31713 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
A/N: Ok, I finally managed to split this gigantic chapter into two parts. So this would be the first part, and hopefully tomorrow I’ll post the second part.
He was cheated. Used. Lied to. Lies, all lies! Dumbledore first and the biggest of all lies in his life. He sold his soul to save her and it was all for nought, Dumbledore let her die. They are coming for him, any day, any moment now. he will end up Kissed or in Azkaban at best. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters.
Muggle alcohol is not strong as wizarding one, but he is doing his best to drown his sorrow, to switch off his brain, to numb up the pain. From the moment Lucius sent the owl with the news, how much time has passed? Aday, five,… he doesn’t know and doesn’t care. This pub as closest to his home, it is a dump, a dingy wooden shack. Ironically, this was the favourite place of his father. ‘Like father, like son, I guess’ his brain supplies and he downs another glass. Sharp sting burns his throat. Not enough, still not enough.
Dead. The word is stuck in his mind, like gramophone needle caught in the scratch on the vinyl record, annoying, painful, caught in the infinite loop. Three days! Three days passed. Why is he still free? Why is he still alive? Ah, yes! He went for a drink and didn’t manage o sober up, or stop drinking ever since…and he is still not drunk enough. There is a huge block of ice lodged in his chest.
He takes another swing from the glass, it is a plain water glass, the tall one, given to him upon his request. He rubs his hands against his face, the skin is dry as a parchment. Oh, how he wishes he could cry, but he can’t. His throat is constricted, his eyes dry. The chaos is raging in his head. But his heart, his soul is frozen. He is stuck in the limbo between crushing sorrow and absolute numbness. Alcohol does not help. His mind is sharp as ever, the only thing affected is his sense of balance. Maybe even his speech, but he didn’t utter a word since he orders the first bottle, three days ago. No, alcohol does not help.
He raises his head, blinks, then blinks again, shaking his head. ‘Maybe it does work after all.’ He blinks again. No, he is still there. In front of him is Dumbledore, unfitting to this gloomy surrounding in the sky blue robes, heavy with embroidery. He just looks surreal. Not fitting at all in this dark, smoke filled pub. This temple of misery and decay, Albus’s apparition is too cheerful. Maybe alcohol still doesn’t work. Mabe Albus is really here, came for him. Maybe they sent Albus to drag him out to Aurors? What are they afraid of? That he would resist? Like he wouldn’t come peacefully, willingly. O maybe he is hallucination after all.
He leans back and the chair cracks loudly and drags a long breath of smoke from the cigarette, forgotten until that moment in the ashtray, and narrows his eyes. At least he is hoping that he did manage to narrow his eyes.
“You know, those will kill you.” Says Albus
“Good” he slurs, ok, speech is definitely affected “Where are they?”
“Who?”
“Aurors. You came to arrest me.” He smirks, or at least attempt to “The prized jewel in their collection, I’m sure. Dark Lord’s Monster.” His speech is not just slurry, it reverted to the drivel of the Manchester slums. Not that he cares. “I will follow you peacefully after I finish this.”
“You won’t be arrested, Severus. You won’t go to Azkaban.”
“So, instant Kiss then?”
“You won’t be charged. Prosecuted – yes, but not charged. Everything is taken care off, the trial is just a public formality. We, do not punish or imprison our allies.”
That is wrong. Everything inside him rebels against it. He deserves punishment. He deserves it. Taking another smoke he leans forward, unsteadily. He tries to rest his elbows on his knees, but fails and surges forward. He manages to regain his balance and succeeds on the second attempt. It is opposite from dignified or threatening but he doesn't care.
“I lied to you.”
“About?”
“I was marked, even the first time we spoke in that cottage, I was marked.” He barks a laugh “In fact, I was marked, two days after my graduation from Hogwarts. Admitted to the Inner Circle from the start, someone put a good word for me to the Dark Lord. He found me talented and useful, he valued my skills – whatever they may be.” He pauses ‘Should I reveal this much?’ “He paid for my Mastery. I lied to you.”
“It was given that you would conceal at least something.” States Albus calmly
“Do you have any idea what I have done to earn that honour? What it takes for half-blood to enters the Inner Circle? Here, let me show you.”
He stands up, makes a step and sways, steadies himself and walks to Albus in few meandering steps before reaching for Albus’s face. He stares directly into the man’s eyes
“Look” slurs, pushing the memory of the last task. He is not sure if Albus is watching it or not, but he gives him enough time..he hopes. Time is a blur at the moment.
Finally, he steps back. Staggers. Lean on the rickety table and sits back in the chair that cracks, heavily. He lights another cigarette and takes another swing from the glass, emptying it.
“Do you still want to save me?” his voice is full of malice, challenging
“What you did does not change the fact that you are an ally. I knew what would be required from you.” Albus is calm “You are an ally, important one at that, and as such, you won’t be imprisoned or Kissed.”
He watches the man, unblinking, once Albus told him that he disgusts him. Now, he is disgusted with Albus. Well, if the old man is unwilling to let the law deal with him, he will have to deal with life on his own. Albus’s blue robes hurt his eyes
“You don’t belong.”
“Belong, where?”
“Here. In those robes. At least I look like a very drunken priest.”
“I am disillusioned, Severus.”
“Indeed.” He smirks “So, I look like a crazy drunken priest, talking to myself.” He takes another swing from the glass and frowns, it is still empty, why?
“You told me, you will follow after you finish that.” Reminds him, Albus
“What’s the point if there are no Aurors outside?”
“You do want to hear what I have to say next.”
He really doesn’t but it does not matter. Nothing Albus tells him going to change the facts. He stands, walks in what appears to be opposite of a straight line to the bar and leaves a handful of Galleons on it.
“That won’t do, you left Galleons.” Hums Albus and exchanges gold with paper money before bartender notices. He shrugs and staggers to the door, bartender calls him when he is already at the exit
“Snape, this is too much! Oi,…”
“Open me a tab.”
“With two years of advance? And that is if you continue drinking like now!”
He just shrugs and waves. Swearing after he tripped over the threshold. Albus caught him and mumbled
“This isn’t going to be pretty.”
Before he managed to process what those words mean, Albus apparated them. He lands on all four, vomiting.
“Yes.” Hum Albus and vanishes the mess with a flick of the wand “Apparating in an inebriated state is not the most pleasant experience.”
He struggled to stand up, and after few attempts, he manages. He glares at Albus, Merlin, he hopes he really manage to glare at the man. Albus hands him the vial with words
“Sober up.”
“Why would I want to?”
“Because you want to be sober for what I have to tell you.” With shrug, he takes the vial and gulped the potion. It might be poison for all he cares.
“Sweet Salazar! This is vile…” he coughs and leans on the wall, after a couple of minutes the potion works “And?”
“Give the potion time to work.”
“She is dead…” this is somewhere between statement and question
“I am afraid so…” Albus continues to talk but he does not listen anymore.
True. It was true. Now, it is real. He glides down the wall, curling up. Sobs broke from his chest. Tears finally streak down his face.
The pain filled him up. Lung stopping, insides freezing pain. He gasps for air. Acidic, sour tastes fill his mouth. He is choking. It is for the best, he will be at peace at least. What is going on?! He is shifted to the side. Slim legs lean on his back, the slender but strong arm holding his chest. He dangles over that arm. The another small hand holds his forehead. The stench fills his nose. The body behind his is shaking from sobs. Tears fall on his shoulder. The tender voice is broken from crying, shaken, worried.
“Easy professor. I’ve got you. Please, try to relax, professor. I am taking care of you. You are safe.”
‘I doubt that.’ Supplies his brain. The familiar spell is uttered and his body is shifted again. Did I just throw up? Air is still in short supply and he gasps. ‘Did I finally wake up?’ he opens his eyes. Everything is dark, not pitch black but gloomy like the early evening, foggy. Maybe he isn’t?
A sudden yelp of surprise, directly in his ear. That hurts! A small cry and happy squeal mixed in one sound, loud against his eardrum. The female is still there, in his mind, he can feel her, flustered and unimaginable sad, pained. Sobs echo again. They are in his ears, in his head. His body flops against the hard surface of the bed. What is going on?
“Professor!! Don’t, … don’t close your eyes. I’ll be right back! I’m just going to call Matron.”
Is she friend or foe? If she is a friend, maybe she can help him to escape. Matron? So, hospital. Don’t close your eyes? He is awake as it appears.
- 18
- 19
- 20
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Torment *Completed*

Torment Completed