Severus' 24-hour leave

2007-02-22T21:55:57Z

Once the meal had finished, Severus saw no reason to linger. He folded his napkin and placed it on the table then nodded politely to the guests on either side of him as he got to his feet. He picked up his dinner invitation and strode out of the dining room and into the foyer. He paused only long enough to sign the invitation and drop it in the box the Bellboy had shown them earlier and waited.

It was only an instant until he disappeared from the foyer of the hotel and reappeared a moment later in an alley. He swayed on his feet for a moment then steadied himself and slid into the shadows while he orientated himself. A quick glance out of the alley told him that he was back in London and it was early evening.

He leaned back against the brick wall, his thoughts racing. The Bellboy had said this was a twenty-four hour reprieve but was he telling the truth? And did he want the Bellboy to have been telling the truth? The hotel was... a cage but an elegant, luxurious cage where no one wanted anything of him or expected anything of him.

He shook his head, his lank hair falling into his face before he flicked it back impatiently. It did not matter. Now that he was back, he knew what he had to do. He stepped away from the wall and apparated away.

He reappeared in a lavishly furnished sitting room and wondered briefly whose house he was in. It would hardly be the Malfoy’s mansion unless Narcissa had somehow worked a miracle. With Lucius in Azkaban and Draco likely presumed to be a Death Eater, Narcissa would have a hard time convincing anyone of her innocence.

Just then the door opened and Peter Pettigrew scurried into the room. When he saw Severus, his eyes widened and he gaped for a moment.

"You’re here!" Pettigrew said.

Severus scowled. "Of course I am here. Where is our Master?"

"D... downstairs," Pettigrew stammered. "Y... You’d better come. He... he thinks..."

Pettigrew suddenly broke off and hurried towards the door, gesturing for Severus to follow. Severus scowled but did so, a tiny thread of apprehension crawling up his spine. Pettigrew seemed surprised to see him and for the first time Severus wondered exactly when he’d been returned to his world. He’d assumed he had been returned just after he’d left, that the odd way time flowed in the hotel wouldn’t affect anything out here. But had he? From Wormtail’s reaction, he might have been... gone longer than he thought.

They had arrived at a set of large polished wood double doors and Pettigrew rather hesitantly pushed them open.

"Er, Master... S... Severus is here," he said nervously.

"Severus," came the hissing response from inside. "Yes... Severus may enter."

Pettigrew scurried out of the way. Severus spared him a contemptuous glance then strode into the room. The Dark Lord was sitting on a throne-like chair on a dais at the other end of the room, dressed in flowing black robes and with an unreadable expression on his face.

Severus paced through the room, his own robes billowing around him. When he reached the dais, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"Master," he murmured respectfully.

"My Severus," Voldemort said in a low hiss. "My Potions Master. You have done a great service for me. Killing that old fool Dumbledore was a wonderful gift. But then... then you failed me and confused me, my Severus."

"Master?" Severus said warily, slowly raising his head. "I do not understand."

Voldemort moved as quickly as one of the serpents he admired as he rose to his feet and came down from the dais. He circled Severus menacingly and it took all of Severus’ self-control to remain where he was and not draw his wand.

"You had Potter, had him ripe for the picking and you ran!" Voldemort snarled. "You did not bring him before me!"

Severus opened his mouth to reply but before he could say anything Voldemort snarled, "Crucio!"

Pain ripped through him and Severus fell to the floor, curling up into himself and struggling not to scream. As abruptly as it started the pain finished and Severus slowly hauled himself back onto his knees.

"Forgive me, Master," he said hoarsely. "I did not know that you wished me to capture him if I had the chance. You have always claimed that you wished that delight for yourself."

"Crucio!"

Pain rushed over Severus again and he collapsed to the floor, convulsing and arching with the pain that was being inflicted on him. But even through the pain he could hear the Dark Lord.

"You are not a fool, my Severus. You know that I wished him brought to me. And then... after failing to capture Potter, you go missing for two months."

The pain abruptly ended and Severus lay where he was, gasping for breath as his body shuddered involuntarily. His mind was still working though and it was reeling at the Dark Lord’s revelation.

Two months? Surely he hadn’t been in the hotel for that long? It felt like he’d only been there a week or two, not two months! But should he tell the Dark Lord about the hotel? And how could he explain it in a manner that would not make him sound like a raving lunatic? A mysterious hotel that plucked him out of nowhere for no apparent reason so that he could spend his time with assorted Muggles. No, the Dark Lord would not believe him... or if he did, he would want to use the hotel for his own purposes.

"I... I cannot explain my absence," he said, his voice a pained rasp. "I was... was not aware that there had been one."

He heard the snarl above him a moment before he heard "Crucio!" for the third time. This time he was unable to hold it back. He thrashed and arched, screaming as the pain wracked him again. When the pain finally stopped, he lay where he was, panting and gasping as tears ran down his face.

"I will have answers, my Severus," Voldemort said in a tone that was almost a croon. "You will beg to give me the answers I want."

That was all the warning Severus had before he was hauled to his feet and dragged out of the room. The next several hours gave him an indication of the deterioration of the Dark Lord’s mind. When he’d first joined the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord would never have resorted to anything remotely resembling Muggle torture, believing that magic was more than sufficient for such purposes, as indeed it was. But as he was beaten in what the more clinical part of his mind would admit was a very professional manner in between being subjected to some very creative and painful curses, he had to admit to himself that the Dark Lord was certainly not what he had been and he doubted that had ever included sane.

He had no idea how much time had passed, though he suspected it had been some hours, when he was finally dragged out of the room and back up to the large room the Dark Lord had claimed. He had been stripped down to just his trousers and as he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor in front of the dais where the Dark Lord was sitting, he could feel the cold of the room seep into his battered flesh.

A rustle of robes and a breath of foul breeze heralded the arrival of the Dark Lord and Severus was dragged upright, sagging between the two who had picked him up. A moment later, a thin, reptilian hand gripped his chin painfully and dragged his face up. He could see black clad figures standing near the walls of the room and realised that this was going to be a public event.

"And now, my Severus, we will see what the truth is," Voldemort hissed. "Legilimens."

Severus barely had time to be thankful for all the training he’d had in keeping his mind disciplined no matter what was happening to him before the Dark Lord’s mind thundered into his own. He cried out involuntarily as his mind was searched thoroughly and without mercy but once again his training held out and he was able to keep his secrets to himself, projecting what he wanted for the Dark Lord to see.

He sagged in the hold of the two men holding him as the Dark Lord pulled away from his mind and shuddered in reaction. He felt the Dark Lord caress the side of his face in a mockery of gentleness.

"So... you are telling the truth, my Severus," he hissed. "Your last memory is of apparating away from Hogwarts with Draco. But there still remains the matter of the two months you have been missing. I must know what happened to you during that time before I can trust you. I would have you killed except you have rid me of the meddling old fool. That alone buys you your life until I can discover what became of you after you left Hogwarts and whether it is of any threat to me."

Voldemort swept away and Severus found himself meeting the floor abruptly as his props let him go. He dimly heard the sound of everyone else leaving and gratefully let the blackness that had been threatening since he had been hauled into the room engulf him.

When Severus woke, he found he had not been moved. The room was dark and he wondered how much time had passed. He slowly shifted onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath as pain rippled through him from the myriad of bruises that lay all over his body. In spite of the pain, he could not detect any sharp stabbing pain that might indicate broken ribs and he was almost certain he didn’t have any internal bleeding; in fact he was positive of that. Given the amount of time that he suspected had passed, if he had any internal bleeding he would probably be dead by now.

He shivered in the chill of the dark room and briefly debated trying to find his shirt, jacket and robes as well as his boots. His robes in particular would be useful, he had vials of the pain reliever he’d made as well as some basic healing potions that had survived the transition to the hotel. He silently cursed himself for removing the vials of useless potions from his robes; there was a chance they might have been reversed when he came back. He could have done with some of them right now.

He slowly, painfully, clambered to his feet, swaying and nearly falling again once blood began to flow properly again, intensifying the pain. He staggered over to the nearest wall and leaned against it heavily, wincing as the bruises on the bottoms of his bare feet made just standing an agony and walking an exercise in excruciating pain.

What made all of this worse was that if the Bellboy had been telling the truth he would not be returning to his rooms at Hogwarts or his house at Spinner’s End where he had stocks of helpful potions but instead he would be taken back to the hotel where he had nothing more than a mild pain reliever and healing potion. It was true that there were Muggle doctors there but since he viewed Muggle medicine as the next best thing to barbarity that was not much in the way of consolation.

He drew in as deep a shuddering breath as he could manage then slowly began to hobble towards the door. He did not know how long he had left before he was taken back to the hotel but he was not one to simply wait passively. If he could get out of the house, he could apparate to Spinner’s End and start the healing process. He had not survived this long in his role of spy by giving up.

As he made his way along the wall, he was suddenly transported back to the hotel, ending up in the brightly lit and well-appointed foyer. The sudden shift destroyed any balance he had gained and he collapsed to the floor, pain washing over him as he did so. He lay on the floor and gasped, unable to summon the strength right now to haul himself to his feet again and unable to suppress the occasional whimper that snuck past what remained of his control. As the coolness of the floor soothed some of his bruises, Severus decided that he would just lie here for a moment before making another attempt to get to his room.

delectusseverus @ 2007-01-16T10:19:00

2007-01-15T23:22:43Z

From Adrian Pucey (dark_at_heart) because I'm in the mood to either fulfil prurient interest and/or flesh out a bit more of Severus' character. *grins* (Though my icon may give you a clue as to Severus' feelings about this sort of thing.)

Ask my pup (and/or the mun) about each or any combination of the following:

1. Friends.
2. Sex/porn.
3. Music.
4. Drugs.
5. Love.
6. LiveJournal.
7. Happiness.
8. The Future.

No matter how risque, no matter how personal or without tact the question is, the muse or mun will answer. Also, please specify if this is ICly known, and any conditions on the knowledge requested. This is important as it will effect how the question(s) are answered.

Holidays

2006-12-22T02:48:15Z

The mun speaks...

I will be off on holidays for the next couple of weeks (probably back somewhere around the 5/6th of January) so Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone.

rubicks_complex, not sure what you want to do with the thread. I probably won't have any internet connection while I'm away and we have just reached an interesting bit so perhaps... put it on hiatus if that won't spoil anything else you've got going?

Couldn't resist...

2006-12-21T20:11:41Z

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Reverend Lord Severus the Woebegone of Old Throcking in the Hole
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Mun: *rolls on the floor laughing* Well... you insist on wearing black all the time!

Severus: *scowls* Idiotic fool of a mun! *stalks off muttering under his breath*

CLOSED TO HOUSE

2006-12-17T09:23:27Z

Severus let himself sink into the deliberate motions of potion-making, allowing the odd emotions the Doctor had raised in him to settle. The Doctor was certainly the oddest man he had met while here and he did include Dexter in that list. Though considering the Doctor was an alien he supposed that was to be expected. He just hadn't been ready for the man's odd resemblance, personality-wise, to Albus. It had been disconcerting to say the least and about the last he'd needed with those wounds still so close to the surface.

He hoped that the Doctor would be able to find out what was keeping them here. It was a good idea. Perhaps if they knew what was keeping them here, they could circumvent it in some way. As much as he found this place... somewhat soothing, he regrettably could not stay here. With Albus' death, his task became even more critical and as much as he despised the Potter brat, he hated the Dark Lord even more.

The step-by-step process of brewing was soothing however and he soon found himself absorbed in it. Potion-making had always been his escape and his own form of meditation as well as being his metier and chief joy. It was why he found teaching Potions to be so frustrating. Watching idiots like Longbottom destroy a perfectly good potion or watching fools like Potter and Weasley squander their abilites was enough to make him tear his hair out. It was just a pity that the Granger girl had ended up in Gryffindor. Had she been in Ravenclaw he would not have needed to be so hard on her. He was sure she was capable of learning when and where to ask a question and without her insufferable know-it-all attitude and a proper Ravenclaw studiousness, he would have found her to be a remarkable student.

At least when he'd been permitted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts he hadn't had so much vested in it. After all, he had only been given the position because of the moves that the Dark Lord had made. Albus had wanted to allow him to do what he could to get closer to the Dark Lord's inner circle.

He sighed with satisfaction as he added the last of the chopped liver. He gently stirred the potion clockwise and waited for the colour change that would indicate that the sliced slugs needed to be added.

EDIT: OOC: Just redating this so that it gets bumped back up my post list. Don't want to lose track of it.

Oh, the irony.

2006-11-27T03:35:41Z