Brothers by JustJeanette
Summary: Updated 15rd Aug 2006. Chapter 13 added. And finally a potion is actually discussed....  Severus Snape has a secret and that secret could mean victory or defeat for the Order of the Phoenix. What has it to do with Harry?
Categories: Misc > All written in Snape's POV, Misc Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Original Character
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Supernatural, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: None
Warnings: Torture
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 13 Completed: No Word count: 67089 Read: 37481 Published: 28 Feb 2005 Updated: 15 Aug 2006
Chapter 02: Death Eaters at Play by JustJeanette
Author's Notes:

Apologies in advance, this chapter covers the some of the earlier ground from different view points; trust me you need to keep your eye on the little birdie.

HEADS UP, PEOPLE. This chapter is the reason for the ‘R’ rating. Be Warned, nasty topics are here, including assault. You will be told when the NASTY stuff starts, at that point Do NOT read on if you are uncomfortable with the idea of children being on the receiving end of Death Eater play. Skip to the next chapter.

Jeanette

Anti-litigation charm; JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, to her we bow.  Warner Brothers and Various Publishers also have their own rights.  We are just playing in their backyard and we promise to clean up when we have finished. 

Harry Potter paced like a caged lion around Dumbledore’s office. He’d been prowling for over four hours, and still hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of dread that had been building like an avalanche since he woke this morning. The feeling of impending doom had driven him from sleep early, and even a fast and furious Quidditch practice had failed to dim the feeling. Given the sense freedom that Harry normally got from flying, the fact that he finished practice in a mood worse than when he started was something of an indication of how intolerable the BAD feeling was.


He’d attended breakfast more out of habit than any real desire to eat. In fact if he’d looked closely at his motives it wasn’t even habit that dragged him to the long table in the hall; it was more a case of Gryffindor Courage in the face of the unknown. Observing the high table, he noted the Snape appeared even angrier than normal. Even the knowledge that Snape was apparently on ‘their’ side didn’t override four years of wariness where the Potions Master was concerned. “Look’s like he’s eaten a ‘booger’ flavoured jelly bean,” he said conversationally to his stalwart companions, Ron and Hermione.

“Who?” Ron asked quizzically looking up from his third plate of breakfast.

“Snape,” Harry said, nodding his head in the general direction of the high table.

“Probably found out that his star student Draco Malfoy was going to give up Potions to concentrate on a career in Divination,” Ron remarked casually, well aware, like most of the student body, of Snape’s opinion on Divination. “Hey, are you going to eat that?” Ron continued, looking at the pile of food still on Harry’s plate.

“No. Go ahead, Ron.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Hermione asked finally looking up from the potions text in front of her. Double Potions Class today. “I mean, I don’t mean to be rude or anything but I thought that ‘The Boy Who Inhales Food’ never failed to eat whatever was put in front of him,” she teased knowing how Harry loathed ‘The Boy Who Lived’ tag.

A quick swipe with his Quidditch-trained reflexes had Hermione’s textbook in his bag before she realised what was happening. “Give that back,” the girl in question snarled.

“Oh come off it, Hermione, you could walk your way through potions in your sleep. Now apologise for that comment and I’ll think about it,” Harry shot back, carefully moving a bit further away. Hermione was a great friend, but she took study WAY TOO SERIOUSLY.

Seeing through his diversionary tactics Hermione asked again, “Are you alright Harry? I mean you look a bit pale.”

“Not as pale as the bat,” Ron chimed in.

“And we have Transfigurations followed by a Double Potions today,” Hermione continued, totally ignoring Ron. “Shouldn’t you go see Madam Pomfrey, or Professor Dumbledore, if necessary?”

“Might be an idea, Hermione. I’ve just got this really bad feeling about today and it just keeps getting worse.”

“Scar acting up?” Ron asked looking worried, given ‘The Scar’ represented an unwanted link between Harry and Voldemort.

Hermione got that abstracted look that characterised her mind having headed off into arcane areas that lesser mortals could not follow. Harry having the ‘Voldemorts’ and today being one of those days she had noted as a ‘Bad Snape Day’ in her internal diary of teacher habits was not a comforting thought. ‘Snape is on our side’, she chided herself as she looked up to see Harry leave the table. “If you’re going to be late for Potions, make sure you have a note,” she cautioned.


Breakfast had been and gone well over four hours ago. Madam Pomfrey had directed Harry straight to Dumbledore after a thorough examination yielding nothing obviously wrong. Dumbledore had directed Harry to remain in his office until he returned; even Dumbledore’s normally ‘cheerful’ twinkle had a somewhat forced look about it. ‘Everyone seems to be expecting something to happen today’, Harry thought. He was about to continue thinking it would be nice if they told him what, when he was suddenly struck by a vision of Professor Snape, dressed in a manner as far removed from his ‘greasy git in the dungeon’ gear normally associated with Snape as Muggledom was from the Wizarding World.

Harry could hear Voldemort’s thoughts as he addressed the Death Eater Potions Master in front of him “Oh Severus, you are a joy. Unforgivables under glass, and not yet refined to its true potential.” The thought of being able to apparently curse multiple victims simultaneously bought almost orgasmic delight the psychotic bastard. The fear potential of that potion if used carefully could easily convince some of his doubters of the true power of Lord Voldemort; knock out the person who cast the curse and the curse ended, but not with this. “Tonight’s festivities may prove more rewarding that I had originally foreseen. You will be able to join us, won’t you, Severus?”

Severus’ answer was distant as though through a poor quality phone line. “It appears, My Lord, that Hogwarts believes I am a trifle indisposed at the moment; my absence will not be noted. I trust that you have something extra special planned.”

“Splendid, you can further explain the properties of your wondrous new potion to me, particularly what you will need to refine it. Still, my potions maker, you do appear to have discomforted some of my Death Eaters; loyal followers who were prepared to return quickly to me.” Harry watched guiltily as Voldemort continued. “However, I can’t have you having all the fun.” The sight of Professor Snape succumbing to the Cruciatus curse was not an as pleasant an experience as Harry would have expected. Finally Voldemort let up to engage Severus in a discussion of his potion.

Listening to Snape’s ‘tinny’ voice discussing the properties of his potion had Harry break out in a cold sweat. Snape’s voice was so clinical. “The brewing is difficult, My Lord, but not impossible. The trouble is that some of the ingredients are a trifle ‘difficult’ to obtain. Aurors and the Ministry are always watching for the trafficking of ‘dark’ ingredients. The stronger the potion, the less time it keeps, but it takes about a month to brew no matter what the strength. The problem remains refining and testing.”

When Severus asked, “Are we initiating new Death Eaters today, My Lord?” Voldemort’s mind seemed to glitter with and unholy version of ‘I’ve got a secret’.

“Ah, always quick on the uptake. I had thought what better way to reaffirm my presence in the world than to take new followers, and give your comments about your new potions. I suspect we will be able to remedy your lack of test subjects at the same time.”

“Particularly on the day the Potters originally defeated you.” Severus’ comment explaining all too well Harry’s feeling that people were expecting something bad, but weren’t going to tell him what or for that matter why. Now he knew why, and it was not a happy Harry who watched as Voldemort exploded from his throne.

“I was not defeated!” A shot of pure anger flashing through Harry. If a curse had been pushed by that level of anger the target wouldn’t just have died, they’d have been deep-fried.

Severus was made of sterner stuff as he continued to address the enraged Lord, “Defeated, yes My Lord, but not vanquished. You may have lost that battle, My Lord, but it is obvious that you have not lost the war.”

Still simmering from the ‘defeated’ comment Voldemort continued speaking. “Yes, I thought today was a particularly auspicious occasion and what better way to celebrate that I still walk the earth whilst those meddlesome Potters and others are now dead and buried. As a test of their loyalties, our prospective recruits have bought with them special guests for this evening.”

“Guests?” Harry recognised it as Lucius Malfoy’s voice.

“Why yes,” Voldemort smiled. “I had given each a port key, keyed to our gathering point. That fool Dumbledore will have a degree of difficulty explaining this, don’t you think?”

Harry saw ‘himself’ wave ‘his’ wand to reveal a group of bound and gagged adults. “Fawkes, get Dumbledore,” he rasped as he felt himself fully pulled into Voldemort’s mind. Harry collapsed where he was standing and didn’t see Fawkes soar through the wall. Nor did he hear the arrival of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall shortly afterwards; instead he was forced to watch through Voldemort’s eyes as Severus approached the group. The last thing he was conscious of, as Harry, was Severus’ whispered “Oh this will be fun,” as Hermione’s face swam into view.


HEADS UP: NASTIES AHEAD!!!!!!

Just remember that Harry will be aware of some of the nasties, you don’t need to know them.

Jeanette


“May I, My Lord?” Severus asked as he tipped Hermione’s face up to face him. His dark eyes bore into her, frightening her down to the depths of her soul. ‘He’s on our side, he’s on our side, he’s on our side’, kept ringing through her brain like a mantra, but at that moment she truly doubted the fact. Severus was no longer the greasy git arrogant teacher she knew from Hogwarts; instead he had been replaced by this fearsome being, every inch a Death Eater.

“Severus, my boy, still tempted by children I see,” Voldemort commented blandly. What frightened all the children present was that Voldemort, scourge of the wizarding world, looked uncomfortable as he watched Severus lovingly run his black wand around the edge of Hermione’s face. “I had promised those who brought me these special gifts would have some participation in their use. You cannot have all the fun, Severus.”

“My Lord, in this case I was not merely thinking of fun. Some of the ingredients I need for the Cruciatus Potion, and some others I am currently researching, are exceedingly difficult to obtain. Spare, unaccounted for, wizarding children are after all a rare commodity,” Severus said looking approvingly over the three. “It would be a waste not to harvest these.”

It was the cool and clinical way that he discussed harvesting that had even one or two of hardened Death Eaters almost losing their midday meal. The children, even Hermione with the things she’d seen, were not accustomed to such brutality; they lost whatever was left in their stomachs soaking their gags. “Now, now, Severus. No need to unduly frighten them,” Voldemort said soothingly, all the while thinking that letting Severus have the Granger Girl in particular would be a fitting torment to that annoying ‘Brat Who Lived’. The problem he had was trying to work out how to ensure that Potter found out, without losing Severus as a spy within Hogwarts.

“Mayhap you would like to oversee their inclusion in tonight’s festivities. To prevent any undue harm coming to those ingredients you need,” Voldemort said. “That way, I can still reward young Mister Malfoy and Miss Parkinson.”

“My Lord, that would be most acceptable,” Severus said, bowing low to Lord Voldemort to cover his reaction to the information about Malfoy and Parkinson. His head almost touched the ground with courtly grace, lowest servant to a most High Lord, while searching the knot of people standing further back, not quite in with the Death Eaters. Spying Malfoy and Parkinson among the group, he wondered at Voldemort’s motives. When last he reigned, you had to have graduated before he would initiate you into the Circle.

Voldemort chuckled. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Severus.”

“Are they sure of their decision?” Severus asked gently. “If their deeds are not equal to their intentions, they could make things difficult for me back at Hogwarts, and I am fairly certain Lucius would not be pleased with me if I needed to obliviate, or even obliterate young Draco.”

“They are of true loyal families, Severus,” Voldemort snapped. “I would like you to collect the young Mister Malfoy and Miss Parkinson immediately after the initiation ceremonies. I’m sure they could learn a lot from you.” ‘And that way, the rest of us can discuss matters that I’m still loathe to share with you’, he thought to himself. His potions maker was sometimes a little too clever, a necessary thing in a spy; but spies could be compromised and Voldemort felt he needed more of Cruciatus Potion. ‘Let Snivellus have his fun. If the ‘Brat’ ever finds out, it may make a useful distraction’.

“Thank you, My Lord.” Severus carefully resheathed his black wand in the arm cuff of his right arm. He turned and moved off the join the group of Death Eaters that contained Lucius Malfoy and Petunia Parkinson. “Lucius, Petunia, congratulations appear to be in order,” he said by way greeting.

“Come, my children, gather round. We gather today to celebrate Fate’s capacious games. Sixteen years ago the Wizarding World thought me defeated, they have learnt the error of their ways. I am not gone. I have risen, stronger than before, whilst they hide behind the skirt tails of a mere boy. His parents are buried nearby, today we will initiate our new brethren on the graves of those who thought to vanquish me.” Voldemort’s voice carried out over the crowd, drawing his Death Eaters in to him. He turned and led his merry band of marauders through a gate at the edge of the field in which they had gathered.

‘Mobilicorpus’ was used to drag the night’s unwilling participants along. The gate led into a quiet cemetery. Stone angels glared at them as they passed; weeping Madonnas turned their heads, and on one grave a single knight lifted his sword as if to strike. Voldemort just laughed at these antics. The grave of James and Lily Potter was unassuming, no real indication that here lay the bodies of two heroes who had come so close to defeating Voldemort and restoring peace of the Wizarding World. “The price of failure,” Voldemort commented, “not a flower in sight, not even a guarding to ward off the Dark.”

Waving his wand in a dramatic manner Voldemort conjured a large stone altar. “Blood is the price you pay, blood is the Life you give, blood is the Oath you take, blood is the gift you take,” he intoned, his wand drawing lazy circles over the altar. “Who would join us, who has come?”

One by one each of the prospective Death Eaters came forward. As they approached the altar, one of the ‘visitors’ was also brought forward. “Show us your strength, show us your desire, show us your power,” Peter Pettigrew spoke as priest to Voldemort. Each supplicant cast the worst of the Unforgivables they could manage, Cruciatus, Petrifidis Aortum, Cerebelis Implodea, Avada Kedavra and a host of others were successfully demonstrated. Blood flowing onto the altar as each supplicant brought forth blood and pain to their ‘visitor’. As the first blood of each victim hit the altar, a ghostly mark appeared in the air; it shimmered darkly before descending onto the outstretched arm of the supplicant. The Dark Mark, born of blood, born of fear, born of pain, brought all that and more to the initiates as it settled. One by one the supplicants lay gasping on the ground, as each sacrifice was concluded.

Twelve joined the Dark Order that night. Twelve corpses decorated the Potter’s grave before the initiation was over. Watching it all, still bound, were the remaining visitors; ten in all, including the three children. “It is time to truly celebrate,” Voldemort said as the last corpse collapsed at his feet. “Severus, as you have indicated a need for the children, take them.” Voldemort turned to face him. “I expect to see the results soon,” he hissed, reminding Severus that the price of his little pleasure must be paid for. “Take the young initiates with you whilst we continue with the rest.”

Severus gave no sign of being slighted as he was effectively excluded from the inner circle. He too understood much of how the game was played, what he didn’t know couldn’t be found out. “Well, Mr Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, bring those children with you. We will be working somewhere a little more... private.” Not even checking to see if they followed, Severus strode off towards a tree-hidden grove in the middle of the cemetery.

When Draco and Pansy walked into the grove they were surprised to see three altars, similar to the one that Voldemort had conjured earlier. “I noticed that while both of you were able to manage the Cruciatus, it appears that some of the more powerful curses still elude you,” Severus lectured in the same tone he used in the classroom. “We will use these test subjects to practice whilst we attempt to improve your skill level. You will do exactly as I say, no experimenting, no embellishing, as I have need of these later and I do not want any unforeseen damage. Do I make myself clear?”

Draco, and Pansy for that matter, then watched in stunned silence as Severus Snape demonstrated a wholly unexpected ability with the wand. Drawing a long black wand from his left arm, he quickly and efficiently had the children bound, one to an altar. Severus then approached each, tracing the line of their jaw with the tip of his wand all the while murmuring quietly. To Draco and Pansy it sounded like endearments. The wand was then stored in an outer pocket of his robe.

“The thing with the unforgivable curses, unlike transfiguration spells and charms, is that ‘talent’ matters little,” Severus stated in his best schoolroom voice, the word ‘talent’ dripping with disdain. As he was looking directly at Hermione at that moment, it was obvious what he meant by ‘talent’. “It is not something ‘book-learning’ can teach. Desire alone is what makes it possible to cast the Unforgivables. Desire to rule as we should; why should we hide our powers and allow mud to rule the world? Because it is the ‘right’ thing to do.”

“Your wands, please,” he commanded.

Draco and Pansy looked uncertainly at each other. One did not lightly allow another wizard to hold one’s wand. Wands were individual; an extension of self, and as such could be used to tamper with self, though to do so took great power. Realising the stupidity of fearing ‘power’ in Snivelling Snape, (they both had heard stories of the Potion Master’s past) they handed their wands over just as Severus was about to demand once more. “Sometime this Millennium would probably be appropriate. After all, we have all night, none of us are likely to be missed now, are we?” Snivelling or not, he had a sharp tongue and the reminder that their continued absence from Hogwarts might be inconvenient once the three other students’ absence was noted had them co-operating with Severus very quickly.

Severus examined each wand quickly, resting them for a brief moment on the cuffs of his left sleeve as he rolled them skilfully to view the entire surface. “Yes, these are beautiful examples. Your families definitely did not spare any expense. We will be able to do very special things with these.”

Handing them back, he motioned them to take a place at the head of one altar each, though he selected Hermione’s before either student could object. “I have had to put up with your hand for the last four years,” he said. “I am glad it will finally be put to some good use.”

“We will need to concentrate on Pain Inducement hexes such as Nervosa Infinitum and Nails Extractus-pullulans. I want you watch and learn, but have a care, I do not want any tissue damage.”

What followed was a serious study of the use of pain and the tolerance levels of the human body. Severus seemed to take great pride in describing the way certain hexes can be utilized in manner far exceeding their original purpose. He had a fine understanding of the body’s chemistry and how to use that against the victim. All the while he watched his students, observing them, the placement and control of their hexes. He noted Pansy Parkinson had the control of a concert pianist, what surprised him was Draco Malfoy’s ability, or lack thereof.

Draco, son of Lucius, scion of the Malfoy line, believer in purity and perfection, was finding it a little hard to reconcile himself to the slow, steady torture of the Gryffindor first years; the pureblood Gryffindor first years. If Gryffindor purebloods were fair game, what was to prevent Voldemort’s net casting further? Severus apparently noted this for he left off cursing Hermione’s right hand, by now a broken and bloody mess, to ask Draco what was troubling him. Draco listened intently as Severus explained the sacrifices that were sometimes necessary; after all the only good Gryffindor was a dead Gryffindor.

The problem for Draco was that Andrew Dray, sorted surprisingly into Gryffindor, was one of his cousins, a cousin from a family that staunchly supported Voldemort and everything that the Dark lord stood for. ‘Would they still support him,’ he asked himself as he had watched Pansy work her fiendish magics. Voldemort hadn’t even noted that a child of one of his supporters formed part of Pansy’s gift.

Finally it got to the point that no more whimpers or pleas were forthcoming. “Given that we need to get you back to school before you are missed, I will finish up here,” Severus said. “Your port keys should return you to the school if Lord Voldemort has built them the way I expect.” Without bothering to see if Draco and Pansy left, Severus pulled a wand from his left sleeve, tapped it against his arm and with casual flair placed the wand tip on Hermione’s forehead before casting Avada Kedavra. Two more killing curses were quickly cast.

Before activating the Portkey, Draco turned to see Severus cast Moblius Corpsus on the two younger corpses, and then gather up Hermione’s body in his arms. Severus, and the corpses, disappeared, leaving Draco alone as the night closed in on him.

To be continued...


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=591