Brief is the light

Rating+Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to dragonquills for her great beta-ing!

Chapter 2

The minute he had placed a foot on the black sand that covered the island Azkaban, Kingsley had felt an unfathomable fear rushing over him in cold waves, sending a shiver down his spine. Although he knew that he wouldn’t be harmed by the Dementors, he had felt their soul-seeking presence at once, and he had caught himself touching the small wooden talisman that hung loosely around his neck nervously. He hadn’t been able to stop himself fiddling about it the whole long way down to Snape’s cell.

Without a single noise the heavy iron door in front of him opened, and Kingsley stepped into a corridor that seemed to be a darker version of the Hogwarts dungeons. Although there were lit torches placed every few metres the pitch black stones of the dungeon walls seem to absorb most of the light.

He followed the corridors to a small anteroom, where a young Auror stood.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt?” The young stony-faced wizard asked his unusual pale face barely moving.

“Yes, that’s me.” Kingsley answered, not even trying to force a smile on his face to greet the man. “It’s my damn luck that Azkaban had anti-apparition wards and Snape’s cell is at the very last floor of the whole prison. It took me 15 minutes to get here.”

The pale wizard tried to keep a straight face, but snickered quietly.

“And why is Snape kept down here in first place?”

“Well, he’s a monster and this is the safest place in Azkaban. Haven’t you heard how he was found? Hands-deep in the guts of a Muggle. He must have killed four or five of them. Death Eater through and through, if you ask me.” It seemed that the young Auror was quite positive that Snape was life-threatening danger to any human that dared to enter this cell.

“Although we made sure that Mr. Snape won’t be able to threaten you during your interrogation the Ministry suggest that you keep a safe distance.”

Suddenly a wave of nervousness rushed over him, and he wished for what must be the hundreds time to be anywhere but here. Knowing that he had to do this interrogation in Azkaban had been worse enough, but knowing that Severus might have lost his mind and had become a muggle-killing maniac was really scaring him. Until now it hadn’t occurred to him that the man could actually be a danger to him.

He had never trusted Snape, and during his whole time at the Order he wondered more than once about Severus’ motives, but he had always treated him as respectful as he had treated the other Order-members, because he knew that Snape was a powerful wizard, and a strong ally (if he was actually joining your side). But that was exactly the fact that was now worrying him now: Severus Snape was a powerful wizard.

Kingsley watched how the young Auror turned to the iron door, and with a few flicks of his own wand opened it.

The cell was small and dark, and the air that hit him was so frowsty that Kingsley choked at the disgusting smell of dirt, sweat, and excrement.

When he stepped into the room a magical light flashed on, blinding him for a moment, and he heard the door shut behind him.

As his eyes had accommodated to the lurid light Kingsley’s gaze fell on a dark figure, crouched into a corner of the room.

The person had hugged his legs up to his face, hiding it behind arms and knees. One hand lay loosely on the knees, and considering the dark purple colour of middle- and ring finger more than one bone was broken.

“Severus?” Kingsley asked, not daring to walk over to the shivering man, who remained in his cowering position.

“Severus, it’s me. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Can you hear me?”

“Go. Away.” The words were hardly more than a low growl.

“Severus, I’m here to help you.”

A snort followed by mad laughter sent a shiver down Kingsley spine, and he couldn’t hide his surprise as Severus looked up from his knees.

The usually pale cheeks were covered with ugly dark bruises, and the lids of his left eye were nearly black and immensely swollen so that his eye was hardly more than a gleaming slit.

When Snape moved his bloody lips to finally speak, Kingsley could see that he was also missing two or three teeth.

“’Avada Kedavra’ me then.”

“Severus…” Kingsley said, his throat gone dry. “Who had done this to you?”

“What do you think who had done this?”

Kingsley knew that no one beside the members of the Ministry was allowed to enter the prison, but they would certainly not be allowed to torture their prisoners. The members who were actually working here were few, and they were Aurors by all means!

“Dementors and Aurors work really well together. It’s hard to tell who is who,” Severus snorted again.

“Dear God…,” With one of his large brown hands Kingsley reached for the small wooden pendant, touching it absentmindedly.

“But why?” Kingsley was appalled and not even trying to hide it. “Have you threatened them?”

Another fit of maniacal laughter shook Snape’s weak body.

“How absolutely typical for you to expect that it is my own fault,” hissed Severus, the unharmed eye glaring in his usual scornful way.

“For once use you brain, you poor excuse of a Ravenclaw! I couldn’t use my wand even if they would glue it to my hand. Your fine Aurors made pretty sure that I’m no danger at all.”

“You can’t seriously tell me that they beat you for nothing.”

“Of course not. Torture is an absolute adequate way to make someone talk, if that person is resistant to Veritaserum. Go and ask the Dark Lord, he sticks to the same concept, and it serves him pretty well.”

Kingsley felt his stomach clench awfully, and for a minute he was sure that he would become sick. He remembered a short conversation he had had with Black last summer, when he had seen the dozens of scars on Black’s arms. Sirius had laughed at him in a similar way Severus did now, and his answer Kingsley hadn’t really understood back then, suddenly made sense. “A gift from Azkaban for twelve happy years.”

“Funny, isn’t it? And I am called a monster.”

Kingsley gulped, fighting the thronging urge to vomit. Severus last words had reminded him of what the young Auror had told him.

“Severus – What…Is it true that you have killed those Muggles?”

The thin man flinched at the question, hesitating.

“I…I’m not…I had to,” came the muttered answer, and Kingsley couldn’t remember when he’d ever heard the usual eloquent wizard stuttering his words.

“Kingsley, I had to do it. Had to test it…”

“What, Severus? What did you test?”

Shaking his head slowly, Snape looked straight into Kingsley’s eyes.

“Can’t tell you. Can’t…,” the weak body began rocking in a slow rhythm. “No - no. Can’t.”

Slowly and trying not to frighten the man in front of him, Kingsley lowered himself on one knee, bringing him face to face with his former colleague.

“But I need to now. If you want to get out of Azkaban you have to tell me what happened, Severus.”

“No…not a good idea…can’t betray them…Both…neither…”

“Severus, listen. If you want to get yourself out here again you must tell me something – anything. I won’t help you if you are a murderer!”

“But I…had to do it. There was no other way. Couldn’t test it on myself…”

“What was it that you couldn’t test on yourself, Severus?”

Once again one black eye searched Kingsley’s gaze, staring at him.

“You will get me out, Shacklebolt? If I tell you will you help me?”

“I will try it, Severus,” Kingsley said, managing his voice to a calm tone. He didn’t have the faintest idea if he was actually telling the truth, but he had to get Snape to talk. Without any information Kingsley couldn’t do anything even if he’d wanted to.

“We will get you out. But first you have to tell me what you were testing.”

Kingsley heard the rustling intake of a deep breathe, and then Severus leaned a bit closer, his deep, husky, voice barely above a whisper:

“The potion, Shacklebolt. The new potion for the Dark Lord.”

“What kind of potion? You invented one for him?”

“Yes, I invented it. He requested it, so I tried to serve his wishes,” a half-hearted sneer. “It took me over a year to get it right…”

“A year? How long did you brew his concoctions?”

“Since I’m a Death Eater. Over twenty years, I suppose.”

Severus closed his not swollen eye like he was deep in thought, and Kingsley watched his deformed face silently, waiting for Snape to continue. After a short moment he heard Snape’s hoarse voice again.

“First he wanted some simple potions to improve the efficiency of his Death Eaters. Healing potions, of course. Antidotes, potions to give them an extra strength or dexterity, and so on. But after a while his ideas got more and more challenging. He wanted undetectable poisons, weakening potions and finally, a potion I would never have dared to create on my own,” Severus low voice became a barely audible susurration as if he was frightened Voldemort would hear him.

“He demanded a potion that should provide the same effects as the Imperius Curse.”

“But why? The Curse…”

“The Curse can’t be used on more than one person. Every wizard, even the Dark Lord, can only cast the Imperius Curse on a single mind, whilst an adequate amount of my potion added to the drinking water system of Muggle-London – ,“ Severus shrugged.

Kingsley whistled through his teeth.

“And you were successful?”

“The result was quite spectacular, yes. Now you see that I couldn’t test it on myself as it was a mind-controlling potion.”

The black wizard nodded. Snape had had to use the potion on another person to prove that he could control her.

“But one thing I don’t understand is why you had to kill those Muggles.”

“It was an unavoidable loss. I had several versions of this potion, and I had to test which one held the highest quality and efficiency without affecting the human intestines. I had tested the prototype on different mammals before – rats and rabbits, for example – and both showed the same way of organ decay.”

“Dear God, Severus. You were creating a weapon for Voldemort! Did Albus know anything of this?”

“Of course, he did. Actually, it was his idea.”

“What? You’re kidding. He must have known that the Dark Lord wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”

“I am the only spy in the Inner Circle of the Death Eaters, and I have to keep my cover intact. Since I’m still at Hogwarts my only way of supporting the Lord is sending or inventing potions for him. Otherwise I would have been useless. Could you think of a better way to earn His trust and show my loyalty?”

“So you brewed potions for him on a regular basis?”

“Naturally - I couldn’t deny his requests. No true Death Eater would dare to. Albus insisted that I should serve the Dark Lord as good as I can – to earn his trust, to gather information for the Order. If I had betrayed Him with faked potions he would have cursed or killed me on the spot.”

Kingsley saw a short moment of fear crossing Snape’s face before the other wizard went on.

“Have you ever suffered the Cruciatus curse, Shacklebolt? The Dark Lord knows how to pull the strings if he wants you to do something. I don’t think that there is a single curse or any sort of humiliation I haven’t experienced first hand during my time in his ranks, and I realised rather quickly that it is much easier to risk another person’s life than your own.”

“And Albus knows about this, too?” Although he didn’t say it Kingsley saw in Severus’ face that he knew what the black man was asking about.

“He knows.” Severus face showed another mad half-smile. “He knows so well. He had to put me back together for I don’t know how often, and Albus himself had healed my wounds, so that I was ready for another day at Voldemort’s feet.”

“I can’t believe that Albus would have done this,” Kingsley’s throat was dry as sandpaper and it felt like he hadn’t even enough spit to wet his dry lips. “He would never have sent you to Voldemort if he had known what he did to you. Albus loves you like a son, Severus.”

“Oh, you are right. He never asked me to do all this. He never sent me. But you know how he gets you to do everything he not-asks for; things you never wanted to do or expected to do,” and with his lips twisting into his trademark-smirk he added:

“Tell me, Shacklebolt, why did you come to talk to me?”

With a deep sigh he couldn’t suppress Kingsley rose to his feet, scratching his stubbly chin. He would have to talk to Albus. Severus didn’t deserve to suffer alone for the results of a war.

“If you don’t believe my words, I will allow you to go to my quarters at Hogwarts. You will find a labour journal of the process of inventing the potion. It is hidden in the ‘Magical Me’-hardback Lockhart dared to endow me with.”

“Will I need a password to enter your rooms? It’s surely warded?”

“Certainly. The password is ‘Ganymede’. Please set new wards up when you leave. I don’t want any nosy slytherin first year rummage through my private affairs.”

“I will safeguard your rooms after I’ve checked the journal,” Kingsley answered. “And I will talk with Albus. I must leave now, but –“

”No! I can’t stay here! I’ll go mad, Kingsley. I’ve told you everything you wanted to know. Please, don’t leave me here. You can bring me to a cell at the Auror-Headquarters. Anywhere…” With shaking legs Snape tried to stand up. His words came in a feverish babble.

“I haven’t slept a minute since I’m here. The Dementors…they show me my worst memories. Things I never wanted to see again; things I never wanted to be reminded of –“

“I must go, Severus. I can’t get you out of here myself.”

Stumbling forward with few trembling steps the thin man slumped himself into Kingsley’s strong arms, pressing the surprised wizard to the wall.

“Please…,” Snape’s distorted face was torn into a pleading grimace, and Kingsley couldn’t turn his gaze from the broken man.

“Please, Kingsley, I beg you…Don’t let me die here.” Severus face was contorted with fear, clutching with his intact hand to Kingsley’s robes as a drowning man would clutch a life-belt.

Kingsley was taken aback. Snape couldn’t have thought that he would get him out instantaneous.

“Please, Kingsley…You won’t have to do it for nothing. I…I will pay you…”

Suddenly he felt an icy hand parting his robes, fumbling on the zipper of his trousers. He gasped in shock as he felt long fingers snaking into his boxers, stroking along his soft cock. Using his complete weight to press Kingsley to the dungeon wall, Snape’s cold hand wrapped determinedly around him. Two strokes of those talented fingers and Kingsley felt himself harden.

“O God…” This couldn’t be real.

In a swift movement Kingsley hadn’t thought him capable of Snape dropped to his knees, swallowing him to the root without hesitation, and Kingsley heard himself moan as the eager mouth sucked him marvellously. God, Snape had a talented mouth.
The wet warmth surrounding him, squeezing him with just the right pressure, nibbling gently, almost teasingly up and down his full-erect shaft, it all felt perfect. It felt so perfect that Kingsley couldn’t do anything but buck his hips into this wet heaven, twisting his strong fingers in Snape’s black hair.

Arousal was burning in his body, sending waves of shivers down his spine as he arched into Snape who bent his head slightly to take him all the way down his throat, deep-throating his huge, dark, cock easily.

“Oh fuck…oh, yes…”

His breathe was coming in short strangled gasps now, and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. Snape’s vivid tongue was swirling in slow and soft circles over the head of his cock, before he was again enveloped in that beautiful comfort of Snape’s demanding mouth, driving him mad with desire.

Kingsley bucked his hips again, entangling his fingers in the black, sticky strands of raven hair, steadying himself with his other hand on Severus’ shoulder.

As he felt his climax rise like a thunderstorm deep and hot in his groin, his grip on Severus’ shoulder tightened in reflex, drawing a painful whimper from the weak man in front of him. Kingsley’s eyes darted down, focussing on the bruise-covered face going down on him.

God, what are you doing? You are not one of them! You won’t use him! Quickly he grabbed the dirty streaks of Snape’s hair and tried to pull him away, pulling out of that bruised mouth, but Snape leaned forward unwilling to stop his ministrations.

“Dear - God, stop it – Stop, Severus. You…don’t have to do this.-- I’m sorry, oh God, I’m sorry,” Kingsley pushed Severus away. Quickly, he turned and took some broad steps away from the kneeling wizard, tugging his still half-hard prick back into his pants and fighting the blush he felt rising to his cheeks, still feeling embarrassed of what had happened a minute ago.

“Never do this again, Severus. I will help you, because I want to help you – not for a quick fuck or a blowjob, for God’s sake. Holy shit…” Kingsley had never assumed that Snape would do anything like this - Neither to a lover (if he had one), nor to whore himself out of a plight. “Severus, did anyone take advantage of your situation? Had one of the Aurors…you know…?”

He waited for Severus’ reply but the other man remained silent, just looking down to the dirty dungeon floor.

Kingsley didn’t know how to interpret the silence, but in the face of the cruelty the Aurors had shown to Snape it wasn’t as unlikely that Snape’s agony had gone far beyond beating.

The fire burning his stomach and the strong urge to throw up returned. This was so unreal. He couldn’t have to save a former Death Eater from Aurors, could he? But obviously that was what he planned to do. It wasn’t just pity for the broken and abused man, but his sense of morality, which told him that he couldn’t leave Snape here.

“Severus, take this,” he handed him the small wooden pendant he was wearing on the leather string. “Place it around your neck, lay down and then try to slee –“

“Shacklebolt, spare me this rubbish. I don’t believe in your Voodoo, or whatever you call this,” with his unharmed hand Severus made the attempt to throw it back to Kingsley, but the tall black wizard took a step towards him and closed Snape’s long, pale, fingers around the small talisman.

“This is a talisman. My talisman. You can compare it with a mental version of a portkey. It will save your sanity, if you ask for its help. It will take you to another place where you are save, Severus. Believe me. It’s similar to a dream. You can stay there until I’ve talked with Albus. I will leave it to you, decide yourself if you want to give it a try,” with that Kingsley turned and walked to the iron door.

“Oh, and concerning my ‘Voodoo’” Kingsley emphasized the last word. “Muggles do not even believe in magic, but we can charm or curse them nevertheless.”