Daddy Dearest - (No Update, Edit)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 31 ~ A Little Prayer Goes a Long Way

When Mathias returned to school, he was dismayed to enter the Potions class and find Albus Dumbledore filling in for Professor Snape. After a rather silly class about the differences between brands of lemon drops, Mathias walked up to the Headmaster.

"Excuse me, sir, but where is Professor Snape?" the boy asked the old wizard.

Dumbledore looked down at the young wizard.

"Professor Snape has taken a personal leave to handle a matter of some importance," the Headmaster replied.

Mathias thought the wizard looked rather worried.

"When will he be back?" Mathias inquired.

"To be honest, my boy, the nature of his business is such that he may not return to us," Albus said. He was unwilling to lie to Mathias. There were too many lies as it was.

A look of horror washed across the boy's face. The Professor not coming back?

"But, we can hope that he successfully completes his business and returns to us in a timely manner," Albus said to the boy kindly. "Until then, I or another staff member will cover his classes."

Mathias returned to Slytherin house feeling disheartened. Professor Snape made life more interesting at Hogwarts. If he were gone, he'd leave a gaping hole in the little wizard. What could he be doing that if he weren't successful he wouldn't return to Hogwarts? Mathias had always thought the Professor was a dedicated teacher. He'd been at Hogwarts for years and years. Surely he wouldn't leave now. Mathias didn't think anyone could teach him potions the way Professor Snape did.

Hermione wasn't religious, and hadn't raised Mathias up to be either. But the boy figured there had to be something else greater that made the world and all the people in it. It was just too well put together to be an accident. So gods could exist. And if they existed they might listen.

Mathias sat down on his bed, and tried to envision what gods would look like. He imagined they looked like people, all different colors, maybe some colored in ways people weren't. He imagined them watching and listening to things that went on in the world for entertainment. Sometimes they might do something to help things along. Mathias took a deep breath.

"Gods, if you're listening, can you do something to make sure Professor Snape comes back? He's not very nice, but he's a good teacher and I'll miss him if he goes away. I probably won't be as good in Potions as I could be either," he said a bit self-consciously. "So make him come back, okay?"

Mathias wasn't sure if the gods were listening, but he hoped they were.

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Apparently the gods were listening.

"Let him down," Voldemort said suddenly, the bloody scourge dangling in his scaly hand.

Severus had provided him with five days of entertainment, and he had his fill of tormenting what was left of the wizard. He wouldn't survive the day if the Dark Lord continued. He was in bad, bad shape. It was time to let him go.

Peter Pettigrew pointed his wand at the chains that ran through Severus' shackles holding him a foot off the floor, arms stretched over his head…and the wizard fell heavily to the stone tiles of the throne room, laying in a semi-dried pool of his own blood. Severus hadn't left this spot since the day of his arrival, being let down on the floor each night in the same blood, only to be jerked back up the next day, when the Dark Lord was ready to continue his torment.

Normally the wizard had his deatheaters administer punishment while he watched, but in the case of Severus and his deception, the Dark Lord thought it fitting the Potions Master suffer at his hands. He had wanted to get screams out of the wizard, but the best Severus ever gave were low, animalistic groans of agony when the pain became too much. He never screamed. Ever. But it was a goal anyway. One had to have goals.

Voldemort started out with a few rounds of the Cruciatus curse, then had the shuddering piss and shit covered wizard hoisted up by his arms. Then Voldemort descended his throne, picked up a large club and beat him viciously around his chest and solar plexus area until the wizard was badly bruised and his ribs cracked. He then had Peter feed the broken wizard some very painful bone-mending potion to fix his ribs. The Dark Lord didn't want them to break and pierce any vital organs, thus killing the wizard.

Next, he used the bullwhip, slicing through the wizards flesh on his legs, arms and back like butter, blood pouring from the gashes as Severus buckled in agony, his flesh almost completely shredded, hanging in bloody strips. Voldemort then had Peter feed him a blood-replenishing potion, so the wizard didn't bleed to death. Then he returned to the throne and let his deatheaters use Severus as a punching bag. He did keep them from punching him in the groin however. That area was to remain untouched. He didn't want the wizard's sexual organs ruined. He liked to watch him fuck on occasion.

Even the female deatheaters got in on the action, raking his face with their nails and pinching his nipples, laughing hysterically as they did so. Finally, the wizard was lowered to the floor, some soup forced down him and left to lay in his own blood and excrement. The following days were much the same, and Severus floated in and out of consciousness.

Severus retreated inwardly as much as he could, bringing to mind Mathias' beaming face, and Hermione's desire-filled, tormented expression. He had avoided this punishment for eleven years and in his deepest heart felt that he deserved it for what he had done to his son and his mother. There was no way he could make up for that lost time. But he could keep them safe now. The price was his blood and pain in exchange for their lives. It was more than a fair exchange. It wasn't redemption for him, Severus doubted he could ever be fully redeemed in either Hermione's or Mathias eyes for the wrong he had done. But it was some sacrifice for them, something he had given to make their lives easier. Soon the truth would be out, and hopefully Mathias would feel some closure.

Severus would make the boy understand in such a way he didn't blame his mother. Hermione only did what she thought best. Mathias was a smart lad. He might be able to understand, although most likely he would still be hurt. But life was full of hurt. People with the best intentions still could let you down. People who were supposed to love you, could still hurt you. It was best the boy realized this while he was young and not approach life thinking everything was above board. It wasn't. And that was exactly how Severus planned to address the matter. Harsh reality and honesty.

These were the kinds of thoughts that went through the Potions Master's head as his body was punished. He lost himself in what was to come, leaving the present to drip down his legs to the cold stone floor. He would survive this. It was all worth it.

Voldemort looked down at the torn thing that was the Professor.

"Wake him, Peter," the wizard lisped.

Peter walked up to Severus and kicked him over with his foot. Then he pointed his wand at him.

"Ennervate!" he said.

Severus felt awareness coming back, as well as great, agonizing pain. The throne room smelled like a slaughterhouse.

"Give him enough healing potion so he can apparate, Peter," Voldemort said.

Severus felt his head lifted and something hard forced against his lips, then a warm, bitter liquid fill his mouth. He swallowed painfully, and felt a bit stronger, though his pain didn't lessen. Voldemort had his own healing brew that didn't stop pain.

"Can you apparate?" the Dark Lord asked, looking down at the wizard.

Weakly, Severus nodded. He couldn't open his eyes. They were crusted closed with blood. Dried blood also matted his hair from lying in the half-coalesced pool of his own blood night after night and he couldn't move his right arm or left leg.

"Then you may go, Severus. You were very entertaining, but alas, still no screams. Perhaps I will get an opportunity to try again in the future. I expect you to influence your son to come to my service, and help him increase his power. Now leave my presence and be thankful for your miserable life," Voldemort hissed to the wizard.

Flat on his back, Severus disapparated.

"Clean up this mess, Peter," Voldemort ordered his most loyal servant, his eyes resting on Severus' blood, fluids and excrement.

Peter did so, wishing that it was the Potions Master's bloody corpse he was removing.

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Albus was in his office when the alarm sounded signaling Severus' return. They had installed the alarms long ago because much of the time Severus was in no condition to seek help on his own.

Quickly, Albus threw some floo powder into the floo and stepped through to the Potions Master's room. He ran into the bedroom and stopped when he saw the horrible state Severus was in. Tears filled the Headmaster's eyes as he knelt beside the wizard.

"My poor boy," he said sympathetically.

Severus' Adam's apple worked back and forth for a moment.

"Done," he rasped.

Dumbledore conjured a glass of water, lifted Severus' head gently and brought it to his mouth. The wizard drank thirstily.

"We shall take you to Poppy, and tell her you were attacked by weredogs while out gathering herbs in an undisclosed area. If she becomes suspicious, I will oblivate her memory of healing you," Albus said, standing. He pulled the sheet off the Potions Master's bed and covered him. Then he levitated the wizard with his wand carefully.

The Headmaster guided the floating wizard through the bedroom door, into the study, then towards the floo, where he cast in another handful of powder.

"The infirmary," Albus said as the flames turned green.

He navigated Severus through the floo, following close behind.

The wizard had done it. He was free to acknowledge his son.

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A/N: Severus suffered, but he survived. Now he has to heal and then…Mathias. Please review.