The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Thirty Three

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The Ministry was already in chaos since the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, and it escalated ten fold when Severus Snape and his two escort Aurors stepped out of the fireplace. Snape was quickly ushered to the lower level of the building to commence his 'in process'. Four other Aurors were waiting for him there, and they took great pleasure watching as Snape experienced the most humiliating event of his entire life. And that included the time he had spent with Voldemort.

The first thing Snape was required to do was strip. Even with six wands pointing directly at him just daring for him to try something, he still found it difficult to comply. Layer upon layer of clothes were slowly removed, and after each item, he proceeded to neatly fold them. By the time he was down to his underwear, the Aurors had lost every ounce of patience they had to begin with. Which wasn't much. Snape inwardly smirked at their growing anger, however the satisfaction left him when he was told of the next procedure.

Cleansing his body.

Instead of the standard showering or even a magical Scourgify, the Aurors had decided on a more primitive method. Snape stood naked before them, encased behind a magical shield. Freezing cold water hit Snape with so much force that his arms flared wildly, trying to find purchase on anything that would hold him upright. But there was nothing within his reach so instead he stumbled back a few feet and tried to regain his sense of balance. He shook his head frantically as his wet hair clung to his face. He spat out water from his mouth continuously, for every gasp he made earned him more. Snape finally covered his face, and ran his fingers through his drenched hair in an effort to calm himself and to wipe off as much liquid as possible.

But his hair was just the beginning.

When the water had struck his body, Snape was knocked off his feet and force-landed painfully. The Aurors immediately yelled at him to get up, and Snape retaliated with a few choice words of his own. A lot of good it did him though. He earned himself another five minutes. When he had finally managed to stand securely on his feet again, the cold water hit him with full power once again. This time, the blast struck him so fast that he stumbled backwards, and was struck hard against the stone wall; making him cry out in pain. Snape tried to move his arms and hands to shield his face, but he couldn’t find the energy to lift them. When the jet was directly aimed at his genitals, however, Snape quickly regained his strength back and covered them.

"Move your hands," one of the Aurors demanded.

Head down, he could only manage a small shake of his head, but when he felt the pressure of the water relax, Snape did as he was told. It was still agonising, but he knew it could have been a lot worse. After it was obvious to him that his 'shower' was over, Snape’s legs finally gave way, and he slowly slithered down the wall. Like a little child, he curled himself up into the foetal position, and he couldn't help but shiver in shock at the cold air that surrounded him. Snape lay there for a while, feeling every drop of liquid that slid down his inflamed body.

He could sense the men laughing at his abasement.

A towel was thrown at him and he was ordered to dry. Snape struggled to his feet, all the while trying to keep the towel from getting soaked by the water still puddled below him. He regained a false sense of composure as he stood tall and started to dry himself, beginning with his saturated hair. Snape felt the shields lower, and the six men approached. He didn't have to look up to know that they had their wands drawn once again. As if he would resist given the state he was in. At that thought, he smiled despite himself. Of course that did not amuse his capturers.

Dark onyx eyes met the six pairs of glaring ones that were filled with hostility. Snape was surrounded now and couldn't help but cringe when a wand was raised, and the tip of it tapped his left wrist. The Auror laughed. Another wand touched his right, followed by his two ankles. Cold hard steel surrounded them, and Snape inhaled sharply as the power within them overrode his senses. He staggered at the surge of energy, knowing it was to contain his magic and whatever else he had obtained during the marriage.

Hands were suddenly upon Snape. Still naked, he was pulled out of the containment room, and was abruptly ushered into another room. The first thing Snape noticed in the new area were the two large Aurors standing facing him with arms crossed and jaws clenched tight. He looked away quickly, focusing instead on his new surroundings. This one held a single padded table covered with white, crisp sheets and several cabinets on the wall. Snape recognised the items in the cupboards, and knew they would be used in his examination. The six Aurors behind Snape laughed and bid him farewell.

Over the next four and a half hours, Snape was poked, prodded, and restrained. No part of his body - or any of his orifices for that matter - was left untouched. Blood, hair, mucus, urine and faeces were collected, and it definitely was not done in a civilised manner. At the end of the 'examination', Snape was utterly exhausted. As he sat alone in the room, his head hung so low that his chin touched his chest, and his limbs felt heavy and useless as they dangled off the edge of the table. He groaned when he heard someone enter. He was then ordered to stand, and he obediently complied. A flimsy gown was handed to him along with slippers made of cloth. After putting both items on, he was escorted to another room.

Snape glanced up once he was inside. A small cot was on one side, and in the opposite corner was a sink and basin. He sighed heavily and wondered if this was to be his permanent quarters. Without so much as a word, the door was slammed shut.

Snape was asleep in less than three minutes.


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A loud clanking noise woke Snape, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. On the floor was a tray that held a measly dinner. Had he slept that long? Did a day go by already or was it still the same one? Not that Snape really cared. He instantly rushed to it and brought it back to his ‘bed’, devouring every bit of food that there was. He washed it down with lukewarm tea, then sighed as he leaned back against the wall. His bliss was short lived however. As if someone was watching his every move - which Snape knew they probably were - two Aurors entered and without a word being spoken, beckoned Snape to return the tray. Defiantly, he held it out to them, refusing to get up from the small uncomfortable cot.

One of the Aurors marched over and raised his arm to Snape, who instinctively flinched. The Auror laughed as he snatched the tray from Snape's hand, and turned to leave - still chuckling at him. Snape had the energy to only smirk at their backsides before scooting down the bed, and bringing the thin blanket up and over his shoulders.

Although his stomach was partially sated, this time it took him longer to fall asleep.


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Snape couldn’t believe it. He inhaled sharply and tightened his closed eyes. He didn’t want to open them for fear that the person he felt lying in front of him would flee. Or worse - he’d find out that it was only his mind playing tricks on him. And so, holding his breath, Snape slowly lifted his hand that was resting heavily on his hips, and lightly touched the familiar arm. Familiar yes. His smell was familiar. His body was familiar. Everything about this young man, who was now leaning back and pushing into his naked chest, was familiar.

The messy hair tickled Snape's nose, but instead of flinching or drawing back, he buried his face into it and inhaled deeply. The hand that was stroking the thin but muscular arm, moved lower and grazed along the planes of the hairless chest. Snape gasped sharply when a firm pair of buttocks pressed into his groin. He quickly seized the pointy hip, and forced it back whilst he thrusted his forward. Merlin, how he missed this.

Snape's arm, the one that was cradling the young man’s head, folded and wrapped tightly around him, bringing the boy that much closer to him. Without a second thought, Snape's cock started thrashing viciously between the boy’s cheeks until it became too painful for him. Snape stopped straightaway and nudged the other forward, and then reached down and wedged his fingers between the thin legs. They parted instantly and … Sweet Merlin! The boy was already prepared. Snape groaned incoherently.

Gently, Snape aligned the tip of his cock to the center of the small entrance, and then placed his hand back on the pelvic arch and carefully pushed in. It was so tight! Snape threw his head back and growled. He took hold of the boy’s thigh, and guided the top leg over his. He squeezed the young man’s hip with his fingers, and dug his nails into the soft skin. After Snape was fully sheathed, he couldn’t help but pound brutally into the boy.

Snape knew he wouldn’t be able to last for very long.

And he was right. Within only a matter of minutes and with one final thrust, Snape froze and drove his hips forward, simultaneously pulling the young man back, and howled from the intensity of his orgasm. His body shuddered and twitched with convulsions. When Snape was finally able to relax, he collapsed back down on the cot, panting from exhaustion. Snape's heart thumped wildly in his chest as he covered his face with his hands – all the while shaking it in disbelief.

The boy had come back to him.

Snape turned onto his side once again and reached out. The bed was cold and empty. Snape jumped up and screamed.


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Several miles away, behind the sanctuary walls of St Mungo’s, Harry Potter woke up in hysterics.


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When the same four Aurors arrived the next morning, Snape was already awake and crouched at the head of the cot. Hearing them enter, he snapped his head up and glared. His anger had returned. His desire to prove his innocence was also back and stronger than ever. He needed to get out there.

He needed Harry.

Snape stood with some difficulty, but rose to his feet nonetheless. Like yesterday, the Aurors said nothing, and one of them flung a bundle of clothes at him. Snape caught them expertly and then sneered in disgust. He was given a flimsy dull-grey shirt and an equally worn-out pair of trousers. Snape turned around for at least some sort of privacy, but he still felt the impatient eyes watching him. Finally dressed and his cloth slippers back on, he turned around to face the four Aurors and was quick to discover that he had been right. They were getting impatient. Mentally, Snape smirked at them but outwardly he raised a brow and tilted his head curiously when they motioned for him that it was time to leave. Snape gestured towards the basin, and one of the men hesitantly nodded. Didn’t they even think that there was even a possibility that Snape would need to relieve himself? Of course not. Why would they care? They didn’t care about his discomfort yesterday when they ‘washed' him, now did they?

Having rid himself of the liquid waste, Snape stepped up to the sink and washed his hands. Seeing that there was no towel to dry them with, he glanced over to the Aurors expectantly. The Auror, who had given him ‘permission’ to urinate, narrowed his eyes and raised his wand. He flicked his wrist and Snape's hands were instantly dried. The man kept his wand held high as he looked Snape up and down and then grimaced. From his expression, he obviously was trying to decide if he should clean the rest of him. Finally, the Auror sneered and muttered, “Scourgify”. Snape was positive that it was only being done simply for the illusion that he was treated well.

The four Aurors then escorted Snape to an upper level of the Ministry and into a room that appeared to be one that was used for official meetings. Snape suddenly felt embarrassed at his lack of attire, but assumed it was intentional. He waited with two of the Aurors standing directly behind him, sitting facing the large desk before him. Twenty minutes had passed before Amelia Bones arrived. Upon seeing her, Snape had regained his temper with full force. Before she even had a chance to speak, Snape began to protest loudly at the injustice of his cruel treatment and demanded an immediate apology. Madam Bones raised her hand to stop the two Aurors who were pulling out their wands, ready to restrain Snape. Grudgingly, they complied.

For the first time since he'd been incarcerated, Snape felt a strong sense of amnesty. However, that proved to be short lived.


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