Invictus

When the detection charm alerted Severus to someone approaching the door, he rushed to take down the wards, remove Potter's remaining memories of the mind-plunder, free him from his bonds, put him under for another four hours, return the room to normal, revive the Healer, and remove his memories of the stunning.

Heart pounding, Severus opened the door only to find, not the Dark Lord as he'd feared, but the Death Eater assigned to cooking, asking what drinks to serve with dinner. He sent the incompetent fool fleeing from the room in terror and slammed the door. Turning around, he found the head Healer staring at him with the same expression of abject fear.

Perhaps he had overreacted a bit.

Taking a deep breath, Severus forced a small smile and said, "Incompetence frustrates me." This did not seem to help the matter; on the contrary, the Healer's eyes only grew wider and his hands started shaking. Oh well. It only mattered that the Healer did his job.

Fuck! The house-elf had healed Potter further! How to cover that up? "Prepare an infusion-based healing potion," he ordered. "We're putting Potter back in the tub to prepare him for tonight. I created several potions that speed up the stabilisation process. I'll make a list of the potions I need and the desired amounts." There. Keeping the Healer busy and away from Potter for at least an hour should be enough.

The Healer nodded and dove into the task without a word, standing as far away from Severus as possible in the small room.

They worked in silence until Severus felt the tell-tale tug of magic on the new wards he'd set up, alerting him of the arrival of someone on the property. Not yet able to tell where the entrance occurred, the wards gave him a general idea. Somewhere near the Potions Lab. Unwilling to reveal the amount of control he had over the property, Severus ignored the arrival until the sound of heavy boot steps down the hall was unmistakable. Standing up, he absently pushed back a stray strand of hair and waited for the Dark Lord's arrival.

The door flew open and the Dark Lord strode into the room, followed shortly by the two young Death Eaters whom Severus had sent to wait for their master.

"He's awake?" asked the Dark Lord, his eyes on Potter in the tub.

"Not yet, my Lord," Severus answered. "We can revive him if you wish, but he won't wake on his own for a few more hours."

"Revive him," said the Dark Lord with a curt wave of his hand.

The Healer, with the help of the other Death Eaters, lifted Potter out of the tub and placed him carefully on the table while Severus prepared the potion. They'd find out whether or not it was too soon to wake him after the mental damage inflicted upon him earlier. Despite his involvement in the healing, Severus doubted he'd suffer a severe punishment if the boy didn't wake. He was a Potions Master, not a Healer.

The potion prepared, Severus stepped over to Potter's side and, cutting a small hole over his stomach, poured the potion in.

"Leave me," the Dark Lord commanded to Severus and the two young Death Eaters.

Severus bowed and left immediately. Closing the door behind him, he questioned one of the youngsters, whose names he hadn't bothered to learn, "Where will the prisoner be kept once he's stable and awake?"

"In the throne room." The Death Eater led Severus to the former sitting room. Harsh white marble replaced the former soft carpet and circled around a raised dais. To the left of the dais stood a small, nearly cubical, black wrought iron cage, the longest dimension of which Severus estimated to be no more than four feet.

"Here?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow at the young Death Eater.

"Yeah."

"No," refused Severus. "I'll not waste my time cleaning up after him or letting him out for 'potty' breaks. Follow me." Without waiting to see if the order was obeyed, he strode to the cellar and passed the largest bedroom where the head Healer slept. The second bedroom sat between the Healer's bedroom and the bathroom. "Change that to bars," ordered Severus, pointing at the wall, "and join the bathroom to the room. I have more important things to do than clean up after that brat."

In a meek, hesitant tone, the Death Eater voiced, "The Dark Lord said he's not allowed near anything that he can hurt himself on."

Severus looked down his nose at the boy. "Do you expect him to hurt himself on bathroom fixtures?"

"...He could drown."

Unwilling to dignify such a stupid comment with a response, Severus stared at the imbecile with one eyebrow raised.

Swallowing hard, the Death Eater looked away. "I'll see what I can do," he said before slinking off into the bedroom.

Idiots. They were all idiots. Severus turned on his heel and headed for his lab.

He had just finished stoppering the newest batch of healing potions in their bottles when the door opened and the Dark Lord strode into the room. "Potter's memories are incomplete," he said, his voice low and deep.

Severus allowed a small measure of surprise to grace his face as he rose from the bow he'd given the Dark Lord. "What do you mean?"

The Dark Lord approached, his steps so measured and even that he appeared to glide like a Dementor. His inhuman eyes were fixed on Severus, but there was no expression on his face.

Calm. There's no need to sweat. He suspects, but he doesn't know for certain.

Halting a few feet away from Severus, the Dark Lord said, "He has no memory of his capture."

A small amount of alarm. It was only natural he would be alarmed. There was no denying the Dark Lord suspected something and an innocent man would display both fear and alarm. He doesn't know and he won't know unless you behave stupidly. Keep calm. Steadily, he asked, "Do the memories appear to be damaged, removed, or broken?"

For several breath-stealing seconds, the Dark Lord only stared at Severus; then, in a low voice, he hissed, "Tell me, Severus, how would each occur?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop it! Think. Hating the Dark Lord's stare, but unable to look away, Severus answered carefully, "If a part of his brain wasn't healed or restored, his memories will be compromised. When I examined him, I didn't see evidence of extensive brain damage; however, I am not a Healer, and I'm unable to guess as to how his brain functions or should look. I didn't see traces of Dark Magic in the tissue, but there are other ways to damage the mind." Good, keep going. "Removed . . . it is possible that someone deliberately took the memories." He met the Dark Lord's eyes unblinkingly. "Accidentally as well. I'd need to conduct research, but in theory it's possible for an . . . overenthusiastically used healing spell or potion to, say, smooth over areas in the brain, removing memories in the process."

It may have been his imagination, but the Dark Lord's expression looked a bit less thunderous.

"Memories can be broken when an individual is exposed to high levels of stress or experiences a particularly traumatic event. Sometimes the mind deliberately seals off memories that are too painful to think about. These memories are not entirely removed - they remain in the subconscious, but it will take concentrated effort to recover them. There may be other theories of memory of which I am currently unaware."

In a low voice, the Dark Lord said, "Why did you not warn me this would occur?"

Biting back his exasperation, Severus summoned his courage and said, "Quite frankly, my Lord, I'm amazed we restored him to the extent we did in such a short time and without full staff or equipment. The fact that he is awake now, so soon after what was done to him and cast upon him, is beyond what I had hoped when I first saw him. If I wasn't so familiar with every spell they used, it's highly probable he would've never woken, despite the best work of the Healers."

Subtly, the Dark Lord's shoulders lowered, and his unblinking stare shifted to take in the table full of Grevillea clippings. "Have the latest packages arrived?"

"Not yet, my Lord," answered Severus, infusing his voice with a calm he didn't feel. It was moments like these that reminded him why he needed to be free of the monster. Always teetering on the edge, never sure when the fall would come, was no way to live.

Fortunately, the Dark Lord didn't stay long and, after joining the Healers for dinner, Severus eventually retired to his bedroom. After putting up wards and privacy spells, he stripped off his outer robes, then retrieved and enlarged Albus's portrait, leaning it up against the top part of his writing desk. Albus was waiting in his frame.

"How's Harry?"

"Alive. Recovering." Severus fetched a glass and a bottle of Scotch from his desk, pouring himself a drink on conjured ice. "He was revived today and he answered questions with his normal level of intelligence."

"Good." Albus's posture relaxed. "And your relationship with the Dark Lord?"

Not good at all. "Tense," admitted Severus as he dropped into the chair and took a swig. "We both avoid the subject of the Horcrux, although he knows that I know." And then, just to rub Albus's nose in it, Severus added, "He is wondering whether I was in Potter's memories before he had a chance to go in. I examined and removed some of them, and he suspected me of it, although I did my best to talk my way out of it."

Albus sighed. "Please don't take whatever anger you hold against me out on Harry."

Severus snorted. "Despite your opinion of me, Albus, I've kept the boy alive and mostly out of harm's way despite his best attempts to the contrary. Speaking of which - refusing to learn Occlumency might be the best thing the brat's ever done - albeit unintentionally. Several of the memories I saw in his head were the Dark Lord's and, based on the Dark Lord's reaction, I don't believe he was aware the child could see his thoughts. I had to work in a very short span of time, and I was unable to determine if Potter accessed the memories deliberately or accidentally." There was no point in describing the memories he saw. He had no idea what they meant. The blond man was as unrecognisable to him as he was to Potter. He'd investigate the matter, time permitting, but only after asking Potter a few more questions. To keep Albus in the dark and change the subject, he removed the Marauder's Map from his robe and tapped it with his wand tip. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Opening the map, he said, "I've handed the mirror shard to Kreacher to give to Weasley and Granger. I told him to make sure they are safe and they should not try to rescue Potter before returning to Hogwarts. I assume you have a way of communicating with your brother?"

Albus nodded. "I can pass Aberforth information, and he can collect it for us." Leaning forward in his chair, he fixed Severus with his sharp blue eyes and said, "I think I know what you saw in Harry's mind."

Severus took a long, casual sip of his Scotch. "And what might that be?"

"Lord Voldemort is seeking my wand. If he even suspects you have it, he'll kill you."

Swirling his drink, Severus watched the ice cubes slide through the amber. "Why your wand in particular?"

"In addition to the fact I was his most powerful opponent, I took that wand from another powerful wizard. I'm sure you've noticed it is unparalleled for a wand that did not choose you as its owner." Severus had not tried it, but he did not interrupt, he simply sipped his Scotch as Albus continued. "Voldemort will want a new wand that has proven its worth. By taking my wand, he'll believe he has triumphed over me in every way possible. You must make sure he never realises you took it." Albus paused, his intense gaze peering over his half-moon spectacles at Severus. "Did you collect the Snitch as well?"

A dirty Snitch had occupied the bag, but Severus thought nothing of it at the time. "Should I have?"

Sighing, Albus settled back in his chair, the look on his face the same as when he'd heard Potter had run away from the Dursleys his third year. "It is entirely my fault. I was so caught up in the moment . . . Something important is contained within that Snitch. Something Harry needs if there's any possibility he'll survive this ordeal."

Severus knew the question would go unanswered, but he asked anyway. "And that is?"

Albus slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid that needs to remain between me and Harry, Severus."

"I will take it from the boy," Severus threatened.

"You can't," Albus simply said. "Even if Harry has figured out its secret, there's no way anyone can take it from him now."

He must get hold of that Snitch! Even if Albus was exaggerating what the object inside the Snitch did, he'd do anything to prolong Potter's life. Reluctantly, he said, "The Dark Lord has it now. Any interest on my part in Potter's actions or artefacts will only make the Dark Lord suspicious, and he'll do everything in his power to find out its importance. I’ll do my best." He took another drink before adding, "If I reveal to the boy what he is, he may be able to help me." He doubted that, but he wanted to see how Albus would react to such a statement.

Albus shook his head. "Better for him to remain in the dark until he's ready. I presume you saw what tasks still remain?"

Yes, but far too late to be of real help. Severus downed the rest of his Scotch and slammed the glass on his desk. "I saw tasks that should have been handled earlier. He's a child, Albus, and you sent him and his bumbling friends on a mission to destroy the most important artefacts of one of the most dangerous wizards who ever lived."

Quietly, Albus said, "I suppose you think I should've sent you instead."

The question cut deep, perhaps deeper than Albus intended. Why must they repeat the same tiresome arguments? Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept the last two nights and this topic only served to frustrate him further. "I doubt things could be any worse."

"At least you aren't responsible for the revelation of what Harry's hunting. If the Dark Lord is better at Occlumency than you think..."

Albus probably said it to make Severus feel better, but it didn't work. If anything, the pit in his stomach grew larger. "But the Dark Lord wouldn't know. With me, there is always the possibility of deception; that I've not shared the information with anyone, or even, what I show isn't real. Any conversation with you he sees in my head could be fabricated."

A thick eyebrow shot up. "You think he doubts the strength of his Occlumency?"

"He'd be a fool not to, and I'd be a fool not to consider that possibility. A dunderhead like Potter can't hide a thing and the Dark Lord knows that. Of course, the Dark Lord will suspect us of planting false ideas in Potter's head and misleading him, but Potter could never fake a memory, and the Dark Lord never appreciated that you are a better manipulator than he is himself. Through Potter, he now knows anything and everything you've ever told the boy."

Albus sighed, "Believe me, Severus, I never intended for this to happen."

"The road to hell, Albus," Severus said, waving his hand. "Anyway, I suspect he'll delve more frequently into my memories now that I'm imprisoned here. He's already invaded my head more these past few days than any time this past year. I think it best if I show him I can mask my memories and emotions somewhat. I won't make it easy, and I'll hide nothing too important, but important enough that there will be reason to hide them."

Albus's brows furrowed. "He may kill you if he even suspects that possibility."

Severus knew that, but he didn't have many choices. He answered, "I know about the Horcruxes. He'll be rid of me eventually. I need to prove my worth. Speaking of which…" He leant forward in his chair and fixed Albus with a steady eye. "You need to give me something. I need to remain in his good graces."

Meeting Severus's gaze unblinkingly, Albus retorted, "I am merely a portrait. I cannot give you anything."

"Don't treat me like a child, Albus. You know of things . . . spells, books, potions." Although he hated doing it, he played his greatest card. "Don't make me give him Potter."

Albus's face darkened and the powerful wizard hidden behind the grandfatherly exterior flared. "And you wonder why I kept information from you."

Severus leant back in his chair, determined to win. "I'm merely warning you of what will happen unless I have something to give him. I can delay Potter's recovery. I can keep his memories locked tightly away. Or I can restore him, heal him, and hand him over to the Dark Lord to give myself enough time to complete the tasks. With Potter distracting the Dark Lord's attention, I could accomplish far more than if I remained here."

His voice thick with disgust, Albus said, "How could you? How could you let them hurt him more? He's her son."

Her face. His ruined face. Her eyes. His ruined eyes. Severus squeezed his eyes shut against the memories, digging his fingers into his temples. "I know. I want this finished."

"Her only child. He's all that remains of her. When he's dead-"

Ripped to pieces. Destroyed forever. Never to see her eyes again. Severus slammed his fists on the desk, making Albus's frame jump. "Stop it! I'm doing what needs to be done!"

Albus pressed on. "He's not a bargaining chip, he's an injured boy. The son of a woman who died-"

"ENOUGH!" Severus jumped to his feet, knocking the chair back against the carpet. He pressed his hands into the desk so hard his wrists hurt, and bent over Albus's portrait. "They wanted to put him in a cage smaller than my desk. The longer he remains here, the more they'll hurt him. You didn't see what they did. You don't know what they'll do to him." He had stood silently and watched as they'd done worse to others.

His eyes full of pity, Albus said, "I know they do . . . monstrous things."

Severus doubted Albus knew half of it, but the acknowledgement eased some of the pressure in his chest. In a steadier voice he said, "Potter can't stay here and survive. Not more than a week. I need to end this. If it means sacrificing him in the short term so the end will arrive sooner, I'm eager to make that sacrifice. I need to make that sacrifice."

"And I know him," Albus responded soothingly. "He needs you to remain with him. Please, Severus. Stay by his side and protect him. He needs you more than you can possibly imagine."

Severus cocked an eyebrow as he straightened himself and crossed his arms over his chest. "And how do we plan on retrieving the Cup whilst I remain here? Kreacher? Granger and Weasley?"

Ignoring Severus's sarcastic tone, Albus nodded. "Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have proven themselves fiercely loyal to Harry, and I have no doubt they will do their best to help him finish his work."

Despite what all the Gryffindors believed, Severus harboured no desire to purposely hurt current or former students - even the ones who most deserved it. He might eagerly and willingly dispense a little corporal punishment, but he saw no reason why he should send children - even two of the most annoying Gryffindor children - to accomplish a task difficult even for fully grown and prepared adults. Sneering at Albus, he said, "And I'm regarded as the Dark one. Pray, what comes next? Shall we lead a rebellion of students and retake Hogwarts? An entire troop of first years might be a decent challenge for a Death Eater. If nothing else, they should provide a momentary distraction."

Rather than rise to the bait, Albus smiled a small, dangerous smile. "Have you so little faith in Hogwarts as a school?"

"I have little faith in Gryffindors," Severus snapped. "Especially two young Gryffindors who are hunted more now than the previous week. They won't be safe."

"You give them far too little credit," chided Albus. "They have proven themselves to be resourceful, especially if given helpful information. If my sources are correct, the Cup is in a vault at Gringotts."

"Defences were most certainly improved since Quirrell's break-in." Severus righted his chair and sat back down. The Dark Lord most likely gifted the Cup to either Avery Senior or Bellatrix. Of those two, Bellatrix is more likely."

"I agree. Does he trust her sanity enough?"

"More than he should." Severus allowed a tiny smile. "I'm sure in his mind her level of devotion is perfectly sane. I'll need plans of Gringotts, as well as the exact location of the vault. How widely spread are the portraits?"

"Not to the vaults unfortunately," said Albus shaking his head. "I've learned a random section of the vaults is rebuilt every decade, so it is unlikely full plans still exist, or that I will find an individual who can draw an accurate map for us."

Severus tapped a finger on the chair's arm, his mind working through different scenarios. "We'll need her to lead us to it, unless the goblins aid us. I suppose that's also unlikely?"

"We mustn't rely on it." Albus twiddled his thumbs together and Severus suspected he already had the beginning of a plan.

"Spit it out, tell me whatever you're thinking."

Albus stroked his beard absently as he spoke, "Kreacher can enter the Lestrange home as he is the Black house-elf and Bellatrix is still a Black despite her marriage."

"Kreacher is no longer a Black house-elf, he belongs to Potter."

Shaking his head, Albus corrected, "Should Harry die without leaving descendants, Kreacher would return to the Black household even if Harry was married, unless Harry had deliberately willed him to someone else. The laws of house-elf inheritance are very particular. Bellatrix cannot order Kreacher to her, but Harry could send him to her household, and the wards would never bar him as long as she resided there. If the key cannot be found or taken, her wand will grant us access."

"I don't imagine Polyjuice would suffice to get us to the vault, even if we had a wand. Find out as much as you can about the defences." Perhaps they could find and interrogate a goblin. "Send a message to Granger and Weasley that the Cup is in Bellatrix's vault and they are to wait for a plan. Is it likely they will restrain themselves if they believe the messages come from Potter?"

Albus nodded. "They are headstrong, but if Harry tells them to keep their heads down and that he's working on an idea, I doubt they will try to act first." Albus paused, then asked, "Kreacher was unable to sense your presence?"

He reluctantly spoke one of his most detested phrases. "I don't know. House-elf magic is not something I've ever studied. I was remiss. The creature managed to stabilise Potter far more efficiently than we ever could."

"Did I not tell you Harry was wise to keep him alive?" Albus gently boasted.

Ever the realist, Severus retorted, "Killing him may still prove the better choice. Besides, you can't convince me the little prat spared the house-elf's life due to any master strategy. He did it because he lacked the stones to do otherwise."

Softly, Albus said, "It often takes more strength to forgive and love than to take revenge. You of all people should know that."

Potter had forgiven Kreacher far more easily than Severus could have ever forgiven Wormtail. Even now, he despised thinking back to those torturous months he was forced to endure the presence of that disgusting excuse of a wizard, and how he had never once allowed himself to take any of the even most well-hidden forms of revenge. If he had been given the kind of control over Wormtail that Potter had over Kreacher, Wormtail would have met a very cruel death after an excruciatingly long and painful period of torture. Reflecting on that time was more than he could handle right now, so to distract himself, he asked, "Have you any idea where the last Horcrux is?"

Albus mused, "If I had to guess, I would say Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, since he used Slytherin's Locket and Hufflepuff's Cup. You know as well as I the Sorting Hat and the Sword of Gryffindor are free of any Dark Magic. As to where it might be . . ." Albus shook his head. "I've searched everywhere for it. Hypatia, the first Ravenclaw Headmistress, gave me many ideas, but none were fruitful."

"He has most likely re-hidden them now that he knows others are searching for them."

"Perhaps." Albus's face displayed how little he thought that was true. "Tom has always been arrogant. How much do Miss Granger and Mr Weasley know?"

"I didn't have time to determine that. If the Dark Lord doesn't remove those memories, I'll ask the boy when he wakes."

"I'll handle it," Albus insisted. "My brother can ask them the right questions."

Amused at Albus's concern, Severus said, "I do have ways of questioning Potter without harming him."

"You've never been completely rational around Harry."

"I've never tolerated fools."

"Severus..." Albus looked so panic-stricken, Severus couldn't help but relent.

"Very well, I promise I'll avoid harming him as much as possible. When he cries, he can rub his snotty face on his own sleeve, but I'll do my best to treat him with respect, even if he doesn't deserve it."

"I suppose-"

A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Severus quickly resized and hid Albus's portrait. He rose from his chair and strode to see what fool dared bother him so late at night. The head Healer stood in the hallway, fidgeting and avoiding Severus's eyes as much as possible.

"Uh . . . the Dark Lord said you are to have the localised healing potions finished by tomorrow morning."

Really? After everything he'd done? Potter couldn't heal fast enough.


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