Invictus

"It's just like old times, isn't it?"

Severus couldn't help but give a small smile and glanced over at Avery, who stood next to him outside Grimmauld Place. "Should I expect you to unleash Dungbombs at any moment?"

Avery grinned back. "They aren't the most elegant of 'weapons', but you must admit they’re good for distracting the teachers."

"Tell me about it." Severus mounted his broom. "Those brats put more effort into driving their professors mad than into their studies." Although it would be easier to fly without the broom, he preferred to limit his broomless flying so as to not reveal how proficient he'd become at it. He kicked off the pavement and flew up after Avery.

"You must enjoy this respite from dealing with those twits," observed Avery as he gained speed.

"Actually, as Headmaster, I rarely have to interact with the punks unless it's a matter of punishment."

"Punishment, huh?" Avery's grin turned lecherous. "That must be fun with the girls."

Not bothering to hide his abhorrence, Severus said, "The youngest are eleven, Avery, eleven."

"If she's old enough to bleed, she's old enough to breed." Avery landed on the roof with a clunk.

"That's disgusting." Severus dismounted gracefully, leaning his broom against a chimney, before pulling out his wand to draw the destabilisation runes that would allow the poison to seep into the building below, targeting Grimmauld Place.

Avery laughed. "Don't be such a prude, Snape. When was the last time you got laid?"

Did they really need to have this conversation? This was the very reason he rarely talked to Avery since they’d left school. "The Dark Lord-"

"Would have us all remain celibate." Avery's eyes flickered back to Severus. "I'll tell you what. If we finish early, we'll visit Phryne's."

A nice fuck did sound good, but Severus reluctantly said, "I'm to return to my Potions lab once I've completed my tasks today."

Avery looked as though Severus was a starving man refusing a feast. "Bad luck, mate."

Severus sighed. "My station should improve once Potter is awake." He reached into his travelling pouch and retrieved the low, flat jar that contained the poisonous gel, and handed it to Avery. "Open this and smear it across the runes I've drawn. It won't harm you as it is."

While Avery was busy with his task, Severus discretely poured the neutralizer into the sublimation potion. "Have you spoken to Lucius lately?" he asked casually as he cast the spells that would suck the released gas down into the buildings below. It would make the Muggles in the adjoining houses get headaches if they were home, but nothing else.

"No, not recently," Avery mumbled, not bothering to glance up from his task. "I've never been as close as you." There was an edge to his voice that Severus couldn't quite place.

"There was no reply to my last owl," Severus confessed. "I've been unable to determine if my owl is unreliable or if he's not had the time to answer." Avery hadn't the grace to keep his nose out of social situations that didn't concern him, and Severus had no doubt he would soon visit Lucius to attempt to gauge the strength of Lucius's friendship with Severus.

"Try sending the owl to me," Avery offered.

Severus didn't bother to hide his disdain as he bent down to pour the sublimation potion onto the poison-covered runes. The gel turned to dark green smoke which was sucked into the roof, the spells pulling the neutralised poison into the buildings below. "I'm only allowed access to an owl every few days. The cloaking spells haven't been fully applied and the Dark Lord is busy elsewhere." Then, as if he suddenly realised what he was saying, he quickly added, "Of course the Dark Lord isn't responsible for the delay; however, the competence of some of those who swear him loyalty leaves much to be desired."

Avery let out a snort and teased, "Have you ever been pleased with your peers?"

No. Never. "I don't think a decent level of competence is too much to ask."

With the task faked as best it could be, Severus lifted the wards and headed with Avery to Knockturn Alley. To his gratitude and relief, Avery, always one to put pleasure first, decided not to tail Severus entirely through his tasks as he'd been instructed. Still, even with Avery gone, Severus's next task was nearly impossible. How to steal a copy of Albus's portrait? Albus had been both prudent and egotistical enough to request a few copies of himself. In addition to the portrait in Hogwarts, another graced a wall in the Ministry of Magic, while a third hung in the Library of Nelius. As Severus had rushed about his packing, Albus had given him instructions on where to find each one, never mind that Severus had about as much chance trying to sneak into Hogwarts as he did the Ministry. If he didn't suspect he'd be stuck in the prison with Potter for some time, he wouldn't bother with Albus's portrait. It wasn't as if he needed it; it was only because Albus had access to countless other locations through his contacts with the past Headmasters. Through Albus, Severus would have eyes and ears in every single important building in the wizarding world, and countless ones throughout Hogwarts.

After hurrying through the shops in Knockturn, he Apparated to one of the countryside spots he used as a safe point. The abandoned cowshed was the perfect place to change his clothing and take the Polyjuice Potion. He checked his disguise in a conjured mirror, then Apparated to the front steps of the library. Nelius Library was one of the few independent libraries in the wizarding world. Most others were attached to schools or private estates. The Dark Lord hadn't seen a use for it and thus left it untouched; a delapidated building with mostly worthless decaying books.

Ideally, Severus would spend a moment in the building, pretending to browse, but the longer he stayed away from people who could confirm his whereabouts, the more suspicions would surround him.

A spiral staircase cuts through the room...

Albus hadn't known for certain on which floor his portrait hung, but the building was small, and Severus had a vague idea where to go based on a previous visit. He'd already put in a request with the Dark Lord to visit the library and search its archives. All the useful spellcraft and Dark Magic books had long since been stolen, but souls were a tricky business, and he needed all the help he could get.

The rickety, winding staircase led up to reading alcoves, where Severus spotted Dumbledore's portrait. The old coot wasn't in it, of course, but items in that section of the library matched the description given and the nearest portrait was of Euripides, just as Albus had said it would be. A witch was reading in a corner, and a silently cast monitoring spell revealed other patrons roaming through the stacks.

Passing by the witch as nonchalantly as he could, Severus swept over to the alcove with Albus's picture and cast a spell designed to draw attention away from the subject. He took one last cautious look around the room, then set to work. Swiftly and with purpose, he pulled out a duplicate, empty painting from his robes and enlarged it. It was a simple matter to unhinge Albus's portrait and switch the two, shrinking and enclosing Albus's to fit inside his robes. Keeping a tight grip on his wand, he marched out, taking the second set of stairs. As soon as he reached the front steps, he Apparated to a different safe house, and took the potion he’d created that wore Polyjuice off quicker. With extra care, he changed back into his usual robes and travelling cloak, then Apparated away. When he arrived at the portkey, his heart sank. The Dark Lord was waiting for him.

"Did you acquire everything you needed?" asked the Dark Lord, the tell-tale push of Legilimency pressing into Severus's mind.

"Enough for now." Severus allowed him to go through the memories, careful to keep the ones involving Albus's portrait locked tightly away.

Apparently satisfied with what he saw, the Dark Lord pulled away after a short perusal. The portkey took them on a winding trail, with the Potions lab as the final destination. Without prompting, Severus pulled out his viewing mirror as soon as they arrived in the lab. "He's not been moved, has he?"

"No," confirmed the Dark Lord. "Not until he wakes."

Enlarging the mirror, Severus cast the viewing spell as he set the mirror in its stand along the wall. Shadows danced across the reflective surface before solidifying into a view of the room where Potter lay. It only worked within the wards and from one angle, but a bird's eye view of the boy was really all they needed.

Severus busied himself with unpacking and preparing ingredients while the Dark Lord kept a watchful eye. Never one to appreciate an audience while brewing, Severus did his best to concentrate on his work. It wasn't long before the Dark Lord spoke. "I want Potter's soul contained within an item."

They both knew he meant the Horcrux's soul, but it was better for them both not to voice it out loud.
Picking his words delicately, Severus said, "I've not had any experience working with souls. I will need access to as many books on the subject as possible. Have you got a particular object in mind?"

"Does it matter?" asked the Dark Lord curiously.

"It might." Severus turned away to add cebus tails to one of the cauldrons. "A stone has different inherent properties than metal or wood. It might be easier to store a soul in a composite item, or in one as homogenous as possible. Alchemy might require that an object be designed then turned into the container. It will require a lot of research."

The Dark Lord was silent for a few moments. "I will send you all the books you need," he said. He took one final look at the sleeping form of Potter in the mirror, then left.

The post came, the owl, Strix, landing on the table while Severus ate. Not a single patch of parchment from Lucius was mixed in amongst the packages and letters. Was he holding some sort of grudge? Certainly he couldn't expect Severus to give him everything he wanted. Severus had just as much claim to Potter as he did. Not to mention it was foolish to throw away his connections with Severus now that Severus held a higher rank than he did. Annoyed with the childishness of it all, Severus decided to 'forget' to send him the private batch of potions he gave certain individuals once a month. In the past he had bowed and scraped for Lucius's favour, but no longer. He was too highly positioned to need to stoop to that now.

His ill mood didn't improve when he discovered that the order of Grevillea had arrived wilted, which meant he could make only one third of the amount of Nerve Calming Potion he'd intended to make. Hadn't he told the Dark Lord many times he needed to have quality ingredients if he was to brew properly? If he wasn't permitted to collect them himself, then at least someone who knew the plant should've been sent.

Thankfully, it was shortly after he'd started on the first batch when a Healer knocked on his door and informed him that Potter should wake soon.

Setting the boil to a lower level, he hurried after the Healer to find a crowd gathered around Potter, who was spread out on a table. The Dark Lord had found a staff of five, including three Death Eaters. It was rare to see them all awake and active at the same time.

"His eyes are moving and he responds to physical and auditory stimuli," said one of the Healers as Severus joined them by the table. "He might even wake within the next half hour."

Placing his hands over Potter's face, Severus explored the still-unconscious form. Yes, the boy was rousing. He hadn't the expertise to know when the boy would wake exactly, but it should be soon. That wouldn't do. Opening his eyes, he announced, "Potter will wake this evening. I estimate in . . . four hours." A potion would delay him. The head Healer frowned slightly, but the rest showed no reaction. Turning to one of the three Death Eaters, Severus ordered, "Go inform the Dark Lord that the boy will wake in four hours." To the other two, he said, "The one of you who is the most exhausted will take a sleeping potion to rest until the appointed time. The boy may require all of our assistance. The other is to prepare a meal befitting the Dark Lord. He will want to question the boy and examine his memories, which will take some time. Have it ready within the hour, just in case the Dark Lord arrives early." Turning to the other Healer, he ordered, "You should rest as well."

With all of them out of the room, he let his attention return to the head Healer, the only one who could possibly stop him. "He'll need to be slowly eased into consciousness, else he might destroy the temporary face I've given him, and Legilimency won't work properly without the eyes. Have you any potions that will stabilise his eyes?"

"I'll check," muttered the Healer as he turned away to sort through the piles of potions strewn across the makeshift tables. The stunning spell hit him straight in the back and he fell soundlessly. Setting up wards as quickly as he could, Severus grabbed the most effective reviving potion he could find. He might injure Potter with this attempt, but he needed to have Potter awake, under his control, and interrogated before the Dark Lord could do so himself. There was no way to do that other than to revive him early.

It wasn't an easy task. The boy's body and mind had found solitude in nothingness and had to be forced back into existence. After force-feeding him the revival potion, Severus cast the necessary spells.

A piercing scream tore through the room and Potter's body jerked as if yanked by countless invisible strings. Staring into those wide, glassy eyes, Severus repeated, "You will forget your capture. You will forget the torture." He cast as he talked, spells of both memory modification and suggestion, but still the boy screamed and writhed, his body jerking with so much force, Severus was forced to restrain him lest he hurt himself.

The memories were too recent and intense. They blocked out all rational thought. Diving into the jumbled mess of Potter's mind, Severus carefully clipped away all memories of the capture and subsequent torture. They were too tightly interwoven to tease apart in such a short time, and he was forced to sever impossibly large chunks of memory as he worked.

"You will forget any recent memories of Lucius and what he did to you." The boy stilled, his frantic screams and struggles stopping as if he was a toy that had been switched off. "You have no recent memories of Lucius." The eyes sharpened and, for the first time, Severus believed that Potter was in there somewhere.

Now, on to the next step. His own personal potion version of the Imperius Curse could still be fought using the traditional methods, but not easily by a drugged and damaged mind. The boy was relatively astute when it came to the mental defences other than Occlumency, but he was also a piss-poor wizard and injured beyond belief. After feeding Potter the potion, Severus cast "Imperio" and pushed inside the disorganised mind. Potter’s eyes glazed and he stilled.

Say your name.

In a hoarse whisper, Potter said, "Harry James Potter."

"Good," breathed Severus. He retrieved the mirror shard and placed it on the table near Potter's hand after releasing the bindings. Quick wand work cleared the room of any identifying features and also hid the unconscious Healer.

Turning back to Potter, Severus bent over the bed and said, "I know you have no reason to trust me Potter, but if you want your friends to live, then you must obey me." The trick to perfect control with the Imperius Curse was to not stray too far from the victim's natural inclination. Even the most devoted parent could be persuaded to kill their own child as long as you convinced them that it was for the good of the child. The less the mind had to resist, the easier the Curse took effect. Potter was stubborn and stupid enough to try to fight him even in his damaged condition, and the more Potter believed his words, the easier this would be. "Your friends will come for you and they will be caught. Malfoy is setting up a trap as we speak." Most likely true. "The Dark Lord knows what you are hunting." A lie, but the boy didn't know that. "If you try to escape, he will not stop until he's caught you and he will kill your friends along the way. You must remove them from harm's way. The Dark Lord will not kill you, not yet, but he'll not spare your friends. You need to keep them safe. Get them far away from here and into hiding and they'll be safe. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Potter whispered with a look of a Muggleborn visiting Diagon Alley for the first time.

Severus doubted that, but the boy was drugged and shouldn't be too much trouble. There were only two possible outcomes - success or utter failure.

After casting a viewing spell, Severus strode from the room and set up wards and privacy spells in the hallway. Reaching out through the Curse towards Potter's mind, Severus prompted, Summon Kreacher as he gazed into the room using his hand-held viewing mirror.

The house-elf appeared with a sharp crack. A simple command and Potter would disappear, which would most likely lead to Severus's death. Pushing that thought from his mind, Severus prepared to issue the necessary orders.

Kreacher's eyes grew wide when he saw Potter. "Master Harry is terribly injured!"

Fuck! How had the house-elf known that? He'd made sure to cover up all outward trace of Potter's injuries. Pushing with all his magical control, Severus urged Potter, Kreacher is in danger. It is imperative that he listen to you, for he will be killed if he doesn't do exactly what you say.

Panicked, Potter said, "Please, you must listen to me Kreacher. Your life is in danger!" His words came through the mirror as clearly as if Severus had been in the room himself.

You have several Healers working on you. You'll get better with time. He needs to listen carefully.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," said Potter with conviction. "They're healing me. Now, I need you to listen carefully."

"Yes, Master Harry."

Best to start with something that Potter would hurry to obey. Tell him he needs to protect Weasley and Granger. They should be his first priority.

"Kreacher, I need you to protect Ron and Hermione. They're in danger."

Take the shard and give it to him. Tell him to give it to Granger and Weasley with the message that you've escaped Lucius and you're safe. You will communicate with them through the mirror when it is safe for you to do so.

Potter's fingers curled around the glass shard with a trembling hand barely able to lift it. "I'm safe. I'll be okay. Take this and give it to Ron and Hermione. Tell them not to worry about me and that I'll be in touch through the mirror. Protect them. Don't let them get captured."

"Yes, Master Harry." Kreacher bowed.

Have him go to Hogwarts to protect the school. Tell him that, from now on, when you summon him, he is to check in with Dumbledore's portrait before he comes to you. Dumbledore will tell him if it is safe to come. Tell him that if you should not summon him within a . . . week, he should rescue you.

Potter said, "Please go to Hogwarts to protect the students. Protect my friends. If I ever call you, check with Dumbledore’s portrait first to make sure it's safe. I can't lose you, Kreacher. Protect them, but be safe yourself. If you don't hear from me in a week, ask Dumbledore if I'm okay. If he doesn't know, then come for me, but only if you won't be hurt in doing so."

Stupid boy. Didn't he know how important he was? Didn't he know how little the life of a house-elf meant in the scheme of things? Tell him to go before he's caught.

"Go!"

Instead, Kreacher clasped Potter's hand. "Kreacher must help Master Harry. Master Harry is terribly hurt."

Goddamn it! They'll kill him. He needs to leave.

Panic filled Potter's voice. "Please, Kreacher. You have to go! They'll kill you! Go! That's an order."

A glow of white light erupted from between their joined hands and, for a heart-stopping second, Severus was sure that Kreacher would take Potter away, but then the house-elf dropped the boy's hand and vanished.

Satisfied the house-elf was gone, Severus returned to the room and examined Potter to determine what the house-elf had done. To his amazement, the spells they'd placed around Potter's body to hold it together and keep it functioning were no longer needed. Kreacher had somehow patched him together. Potter wasn't cured, or even mostly healed, he'd just been stabilised enough so Severus and the Healers could focus entirely on curing him rather than keeping him from falling apart.

Severus shook his head. Who knew house-elves were so powerful?

Capturing Potter's chin in his hand and binding him to the table once again, Severus dove into his mind and cast spells as he cut out more memories. "You will forget Summoning Kreacher or else you will place his life in grave danger. You will never think of Summoning Kreacher or Dobby. You will forget what happened to Dobby. You will never think of Kreacher or Dobby." He didn't have the time to go as far as convincing Potter that Kreacher and Dobby never existed. A proper memory removal like that could take days, if not weeks, and the chance of it being discovered was too high and therefore far too risky.

Potter didn't want to forget, so he fought, his mind rebelling and throwing up defences. His body pressed and writhed against its bindings, but Severus had done this work far too often to have his efforts thwarted by a brat like Potter.

Once he was sure the Dark Lord would never be able to find the memories and Potter wouldn't try calling Kreacher of his own accord, Severus fed him some healing potions. He'd need his strength for what was to come next.

After Severus had re-secured the wards, it was time to go in again. He had learnt long ago that Albus was a master of lies and manipulation. There was plenty Potter had been told that Albus had kept from Severus - even things of which Potter himself remained consciously unaware. The annoying brat had the information Severus wanted, what he needed to complete the impossible task assigned to him. Albus had no right to keep him in the dark. If he had the time, he'd do this later, but who knew what memories the Dark Lord would suppress after viewing? "Legilimens!"

Potter had never been close to becoming an Occlumens, but he'd always excelled at resisting ill-intended magic. While Potter was Gryffindor enough to be easily convinced he shouldn't escape in order that his friends might live, he had no reason to give up his secrets. His eyes rolled and sharp sparks of magic burst along his heated skin, but it didn't take much for Severus to shove through his meagre defences.

"What do you know about the Horcruxes?"

The Ring. A cave. Inferi. A locket. The Sword in the lake. The use of the doe made perfect sense now. Nagini. Of course, how could he not have seen it? The Cup. Another. Difficult to see. Potter had no idea about the one inside him.

"What has Dumbledore told you about the Cup?"

A strangled cry escaped Potter's lips and a Stinging Hex struck Severus's cheek.

Severus tightened his grip on Potter's chin. "Idiot!" he said in a dark whisper. "The more you resist me, the more you’ll hurt yourself. I will rip it from your mind if I need to."

For a moment, the vivid green eyes locked onto Severus's, then the lids squeezed shut. Quickly, Severus pressed his hand over Potter's nose and mouth, using fingers to hold the jaw shut in order to avoid being bitten. Magic surged through Potter, his hair standing up on end, but he was too stupid, too drugged, too unfocused to put up a proper defence, and soon he opened his eyes. Severus slid down his hand enough to allow Potter to breathe through his nose.

A house-elf. Whose? Memories . . . that weren't Potter's? Severus inhaled sharply. Of course, the boy could see into the Dark Lord's mind! Albus had said it was unlikely the Dark Lord would allow Potter access again and Severus had agreed. Neither of them had ever imagined that Potter's visions would be so detailed, nor that the boy could see so much. Had the Dark Lord known? Probably not. Severus needed those memories. The Dark Lord would steal them.

Something wet ran along his thumb and Severus glanced down to see blood leaking from Potter's nose. "Shit." He grabbed a healing potion and poured it in, ignoring the pitiful whimpering noises that Potter was making like some small wounded animal. It would be better if he gave the boy a chance to recover - the memories would be easier to extract - but he hadn't the time. The Dark Lord could arrive any minute.

He had to go in again, and deeper.

Severus stared deep into Potter's eyes. "I will take what I want. If you insist on resisting me, it will only cause you pain." Ignoring Potter's cries of distress, he dove in once more.


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