Chapter 22

A/N: Beaweasley2 and Clairvoyant are fabulous. So is JKR. So are those of you who read and review.

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Chapter 22

Hermione raced down the stone steps to the rear of the peristyle and came to the back entrance of Snape's house. The reinforced pine door was practically jumping off the hinges under the assault from outside. Despite the protective spells in the plasterwork and bricks of the walls, the hinges of the door were rocking. Hermione could not make out the individual words that were being bellowed outside the door because they were being obscured by the thundering of fists on its wood.

Hermione approached the door cautiously, her wand drawn.

"Who is it?" she called out, fighting to keep her voice calm and strong. The thumping on the door ceased.

"It's fucking me! Aulus Restitutus Vettius. Let me in, you fucking stupid cow – I need to see your master!"

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Conviva's brother... what on earth was he doing here? Restitutus' voice was cracked with panic and fear. It was a far cry from the urbane and witty intonation from the party a few days ago. Hermione's brow furrowed at the insult in his words, but, nonetheless, she waved her wand, and the door sprang open, revealing the frenzied form of Conviva's brother.

Immediately, he leapt inside, grabbing at her throat. Hermione recoiled, and the door slammed back into place in answer to the magical wards on the house. Restitutus' eyes were wide, his long, dark dress robes dishevelled and filthy, his red hair dusty, wild, and untamed.

Shocked, he released her with a strangled cry. "Hermione? I'm s-sorry! I thought you were a slave. Why–? What–?" Clearly embarrassed, he flushed and rubbed his hands on his sides, taking several deep breaths. Hermione was shocked by his appearance and continued to back away from him.

"Have you seen my brother?" he asked urgently, following her in to the house.

"No, Restitutus," she replied, still confused by his near-hysterical behaviour. Restitutus had struck her as being the calmer of the two Vettii. To see him in such a state was frightening. "What's the matter?"

Restitutus ran his hands through his short hair distractedly. "Haven't you heard about what happened last night?" he asked roughly. "I came to find Conviva because he was last seen with Severus, heading into the city. Is he here?"

"Restitutus, what has happened?" Hermione repeated firmly, trying to stay calm in the face of his anxiety. Her magical senses were snapping to attention. There was something ... alien... radiating off the tall Pompeiian. She narrowed her eyes and looked carefully at him.

"Marcella is here," she offered quietly, watching how his hands trembled.

"And Severus?"

Her shoulders dropped. "No."

He swore and swiped his hand across his face. Hermione noticed the dried blood on his sleeve, and then her attention focused on the dark stains on the hem of his long black toga. She saw that Restitutus was sweating despite the cool temperature of the early morning. His eyes were unfocused, and he could not rest.

She had seen those symptoms before.

Hermione raised her wand slowly and pointed it at the shaking man.

"Restitutus," she said slowly and evenly, "tell me what happened."

********************

"No, no, no. Absolutely not."

Professor Spleen's voice had lost all of its previously avuncular cheerfulness. The diminutive Healer stood, his arms folded firmly across his chest and his lower jaw set.

"Why the hell not? She's my daughter." Robert was failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He could feel the blood rising in his chest and neck. He had been sitting in this bloody weird place for days, and they had not been able to do anything for Hermione. Now Harry had come along with a sensible plan based on wizarding mathematics that offered a chance to do something that Spleen had been unable to do, but the Healers were rejecting the idea and refusing to allow her to move from the hospital.

"It is absolutely out of the question, Dr Granger. Hermione is in a very delicate condition. I could not possibly countenance such a dangerous endeavour!"

"You have had days to try your methods. Harry believes that he has a good idea to wake her, and my wife and I think that we should try it."

Spleen spluttered, his hands fluttering with distress. "Dr Granger, here at St Mungo's we have all the appropriate facilities to ensure that Hermione is properly contained. To risk moving her is to risk her health, perhaps irrevocably!"

"Contained? It sounds like she is being held captive," Robert growled.

Ron stepped up beside him. "Look, she was breathing perfectly well before we brought her here; you said so yourself. What exactly is she risking being moved? She's just... lying there!"

Professor Spleen bridled at both men. "I can assure you, sirs, that we have Hermione's best interests at heart. I will not rest until we have exhausted all possibilities for a solution... here at St Mungo's. Where it is safe. Not in some...," he waved his fingers again in a dismissive gesture and continued, "school infirmary. We may not have a way forward quite yet... But I am sure that we will certainly have another pathway to explore very shortly."

Robert Granger made to advance, his hands balled tightly in frustration at the Healer's intransigence. Quickly, Harry reached forward and placed a hand on Robert's shoulder to restrain him.

"Professor Spleen," Harry began, moving past Hermione's father to make his case "I tried to move Snape and Hermione's portrait from the walls of the office, but it would not come away. Poppy Pomfrey is a superb mediwitch and Professor Vector believes–"

Spleen interrupted him with a derisive snort. "Arithmancy!" he exclaimed disparagingly with a wave of his hand. Harry could see twin patches of heat in his cheeks. "Hocus-pocus dressed up as mathematical projections."

"That's unfair!" Harry began hotly but stopped when Ron snagged his elbow with a determined grip.

Harry spun around to face Ron, who waggled his eyebrows at Harry and said deliberately, "That's enough, mate. Professor Spleen has made his case."

Next to the redhead, Luna was resting her fingers on Robert Granger's arm and was whispering something in his ear.

Harry looked from them to Robert Granger, who, he saw, was now wearing an uncharacteristically measured and thoughtful look on his face.

Not fully understanding what was going on but prepared to trust his best friend, Harry forced himself to take a deep breath, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay," he said quietly to Spleen. "As you say, Professor."

The little Healer huffed and nodded in satisfaction, his characteristically smug smile appearing once more on his face.

"Yes... well. Thank you... Dr Granger," he said, bowing to Hermione's father. "I am sure that we will find the solution to our little medical conundrum here very soon."

With that, the Healer turned around and left the room with a sprightly step.

Harry immediately spun around with his arms wide to stare at the others in Hermione's room. "Well?" he demanded, "What was that all about?"

********************

Restitutus took another shaky draught from his goblet. He was sitting on the bed in Snape's laboratory next to his sister-in-law. Marcella was rubbing his back, watching him with sympathy as he choked down the falernian wine. The alcohol seemed to calm him.

Marcella took the goblet from him without words. She looked across at Hermione, and Hermione could see the shadow of uncertainty still evident in her features. Hermione could see that Marcella was still somewhat fearful of her. Marcella had been asleep that morning when Hermione woke up, and they had not had any time to discuss the frightening events of last night.

Hermione shifted her seat awkwardly on the low bench. She still had her wand in her hand as she turned her attention again to Restitutus.

"It began a few weeks ago," Restitutus began quietly. "Marcus told me about a new rising power in the city. This was someone who was going to make us very rich. Conviva and I would be able to become the most powerful merchants in Italia, and we could take our business to Rome itself.... You don't know how hard we struggled to establish the business, Hermione. It was backbreaking work for very little reward. After years of graft, we were finally starting to make decent money. You've seen our house – look at what we have achieved, former slaves and the sons of slaves! Marcus' proposition was another business opportunity that we could not turn away. All I had to do was accept another patron – join another society – and in return, I stood to gain access to unheard of levels of power and influence. How could I say no?" He dragged a shaking fist across his mouth. "At first, I was intoxicated with everything. Marcus was so convincing – and he had been so helpful as we had struggled to set ourselves up after gaining our freedom." Restitutus looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers and turning them over to see the veins roll under his skin as he moved them. Hermione could see that he was still trembling involuntarily.

He looked back up at the two women. "Severus' potion gave me the power of the gods! I could do incredible things, Marcella." He held a shaking hand up in front of him and then balled it into a fist. "It wasn't until I'd drunk the potion a few times that I knew it was all wrong, but by then, it was too late." His shoulders sagged, he leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.

Hermione looked at Restitutus' black robes. Of course she recognised them now. Her breath caught – how could Marcella not see...?

"You were in the cave," she stated abruptly. "You knew that Marcella had been taken captive... that I was there too. Why didn't you do anything to help us?"

Restitutus looked away. He was still shaking slightly. "I couldn't do anything to help. It was horrible," he mumbled, obviously embarrassed.

"Is Conviva involved?" Marcella asked sharply.

Restitutus shook his head. "Marcus knew that he would not want anything to do with it, so he didn't even talk to him about it." He laughed sharply but without any mirth. "Marcus knew that I was less... principled than my brother. I didn't tell him." Restitutus laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. "So much for us being so alike! I thought it was something that I could do to support him for a change. Conviva always looked after me – before we were freed and afterwards too." He looked hesitantly across at his sister-in-law.

"But why couldn't you tell Marcus that you weren't interested?" Hermione asked. She was still not prepared to let Restitutus off the hook – she remembered fighting her way out of the cave past the monstrous dancers.

Restitutus' breath escaped him in an exasperated grunt. "Because the whole of Pompeiian society is a fucking web of debt, Hermione. You know that! Fiducius is my patron; I'm his client. He supports me; I support him. If he tells me to do something, I do it. No questions. No option. No escape." His chin lifted defensively. "Severus understands. He was being dragged in too."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Do you know where Severus is, Restitutus?" she asked.

Restitutus' head dropped again.

"I think so," he whispered.

Hermione felt her heart begin to thump heavily in her chest. She felt the familiar sing of blood through her veins as she thought of Severus, and her heart clenched.

*********************

Luna calmly turned to Harry and began to take off her jumper. Beside her, Ron was speaking quietly to Robert Granger, who was, in turn, talking into his mobile phone to his wife at their surgery.

"Are you crackers?" Harry asked his friend incredulously as she carefully laid her jumper on the bed and began to lever her feet out from her slip-on shoes.

"No, Harry. It makes perfect sense. You need to take Hermione to Hogwarts to try to wake her up, so someone has to take her place here for a while." Luna smiled dreamily at him. "It will be fine, Harry! I'll just have a nice lie down and go to sleep for a while. No one will notice. It was Ron's suggestion for a back up plan. Please pass me those spare hospital robes from inside the cupboard over there."

"But, Luna," spluttered Harry, "You don't look anything like Hermione. You've got the wrong..." Where do I start? Hair? Height? Face? "Erm... body...," he decided on, weakly. "There's no time to brew Polyjuice...."

Luna took the hospital robes he was offering to her. "Oh, don't worry Harry! If Robert stays here too, I'm sure that we will be able to maintain the illusion really well." She picked up the rosemary from beside Hermione's prone form and whispered a quiet spell. Harry watched as the plant morphed into a lush, curly wig, vaguely reminiscent of Hermione's hair, which Luna carefully tugged onto her head. Harry boggled at her.

"Turn around, please, everyone," she said quietly but firmly, "I am about to get changed."

The men all obligingly spun around.

"Alright, mate?" Ron's voice was almost cheerful.

Harry looked at him. Ever one for action rather than reflection, Harry could see that Ron was energised by the prospect of doing something for Hermione instead of sitting around.

"Robert's going to stay here, and Helen's going to join us at Hogwarts as soon as I can get Neville to go and fetch her from her work. Meanwhile, we need to move Hermione out of the room and down to the Apparition point in the Reception area. In order to do that, we have to Disillusion her so we can get past the Healers on this level. Remember Gringotts? Don't suppose you've got your cloak with you?" Ron was looking at him expectantly.

Harry gaped for a moment. He was having considerable difficulty catching up with what was going on.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll Disillusion her. You can turn back around now," Luna said imperturbably and advanced on the comatose figure in the bed, holding her wand before her.

*********************

"You have blood on your clothes, Restitutus," Marcella said quietly. She placed her hand carefully on his knee. Hermione could tell that Marcella was trying to calm her brother-in-law down.

Restitutus said nothing in return, still cradling his head in his hands. He was clearly in shock. His trembling increased.

Hermione herself was growing ever more aware of the passage of time. There had been no further earth tremors since the one before she had solved the puzzle of the portrait's runes.

The clock was ticking.

I have to find Severus.

I have to find him.

She forced herself to relax, to try to ease the empty ache in her belly. The cramp in her stomach was getting worse. If she shouted at the shaking man before her, he would retreat even further. She wished that Severus' Calming Draughts had survived Marcus' destruction of the lab.

"Restitutus, please tell us what happened to you," she urged again.

*

"We went out into the city." Restitutus' voice was barely audible. "You saw w-what Sabazios turned us into before we left the cave." Hermione nodded. The men had transformed into giants, just as Dio Cassius had recorded in his account of the days leading up to the volcanic eruption.

"Go on," she prompted him.

"We walked out into the city, and the people... ran before us. We were like gods! I could feel the potion burning through my blood, pounding in my head. I felt that I could do anything just by my will alone. All around us would cower and obey!" Restitutus' eyes closed, and Hermione knew that he was remembering the heady rush of power that came with wielding magic. Then his eyes opened, and he looked at them again.

"But they weren't frightened," he continued shakily. "The stupid bastards thought it was a trick or that we were actors from the festival... part of the Vulcanalia celebrations." He coughed and wiped his hand across his mouth. Hermione saw the blood on his sleeve again, the dried crust of it on the heel of his hand.

"We reached the Forum, and Sabazios began to speak to the crowd... but..." Restitutus took a deep, shuddering breath. "There was a man who jeered at him, who called Sabazios nothing but a charlatan. He insulted the god. Sabazios didn't like it – well, none of us did. He was not showing us the respect that we deserved. So... Sabazios picked him up... and – I swear to the gods I didn't know what he was going to do, Marcella! – he... ripped him apart."

Marcella gasped, putting her hand involuntarily to her mouth.

"What happened next?" Hermione asked grimly.

Restitutus wiped his cheek angrily with his hand. "Everyone started screaming and running around. Marcus and the others began to lash about themselves with whips made from fire in their hands. Sabazios was directing everyone like a dance. He was in my head. I couldn't think!" His eyes were wild and fierce as he appeared to picture the scene in his mind's eye.

"And you did nothing?" Hermione's voice sounded harsh in her ears.

"I couldn't stop it...." Restitutus held out his hands imploringly to the two women. "I would have been killed too! My brothers were possessed... We all were!"

Hermione wasn't interested in sympathising with the man. "What happened to Severus?" she asked bluntly.

Restitutus' hands fell empty to his knees. "He... He was there in the Forum. I think he tried to stop us. Marcus found him and knocked him senseless. I don't know what happened to him next. After... After what happened in the Forum, Sabazios led us into Apollo's Temple to rest. I waited until everyone around me had fallen asleep – Marcus was watching Severus – and I slipped away out from the rear of the Temple sanctuary. If Severus is not here, he must still be in the Temple... if he's still alive."

Hermione's hand tightened on the handle of her wand. A strange, roaring emotion was coursing through her body, her head buzzing. Her hand flew to her chest as it gave a savage thrum.

"I need to find my brother. He'll know what to do." Restitutus whispered.

She stood up, looking down on the hunched form of the trembling man and his sister-in-law.

"Right," she said. "Come on, then."

Restitutus looked up at her with unfocused eyes. "W-what?"

"You want to find your brother; I'm going to find Severus." She was pleased that her voice remained relatively calm.

For a moment, Restitutus simply looked at her blankly. Then suddenly, he emitted a dry and mirthless bark of laughter.

"Did you not hear me, woman?" he asked, looking disbelievingly at Hermione and Marcella. "If Severus is alive, he is the captive of the god."

Hermione scowled at him and crossed her arms on her chest, raising her eyebrow deliberately. "And...?"

"And," Restitutus continued slowly, "you cannot possibly hope to survive that encounter, you foolish woman. You have no idea what he is capable of – he has power beyond your imagination. He has the power of Jove! You can't face Sabazios – he'll kill you in a moment!"

Hermione twirled her wand in her fingers and caused a shower of red sparks to shoot from its tip. Marcella reared backwards in surprise, her eyes wide and shocked. Restitutus jumped up from the bed, holding his hand out defensively in front of him.

"Want to bet?" Hermione asked resolutely. "Sit down, Restitutus. I need to tell you both a few things...."

*********************

"This is crazy, Ron," Harry said under his breath as the two friends walked out into the corridor, a Disillusioned Hermione levitating somewhere between them. Surreptitiously, Harry put out a hand to check that she was there. He felt her hand, clammy and cold.

"No, it's not," Ron whispered back. "We've just got to make sure she doesn't bump into anyone or anything on our way down. Once we get to Reception, we can just Apparate away."

Harry grunted and steered Hermione carefully past a rampant aspidistra in the main waiting area of level four and towards the magical lifts at the end of the corridor.

After twenty agonising seconds, the lift 'pinged', and the door opened. A small neatly dressed mediwitch came out of it and smiled sweetly at Ron. Harry looked into the magical elevator and saw, to his dismay, that there were another three occupants in the small metal space, all apparently visitors. They would never fit in the lift with Hermione as well. Harry shot an alarmed look at Ron.

Ron made a calming gesture with his hands. Then he flapped them unnecessarily in front of his face. He began to moan and whine and to make a revolting noise at the back of his throat. Harry thought he saw Ron's wand flash in his hand.

Suddenly, and with a very unpleasant retching sound, Ron began to vomit slugs. They landed with a wet squishing noise onto the floor of the lift.

"Urgh! Sorry... sorry," Ron mumbled, moving further towards the other occupants of the lift and heaving again.

Another stomach-sized collection of writhing invertebrates splashed onto the floor. Some of the slugs landed on one of the lift occupant's shoes. Ron staggered forward, his face twisted in anguish. With muted groans of distaste, the revolted wizards in the elevator edged past the, by now, theatrically moaning Ron and out to wait for the next lift.

Harry carefully drifted Hermione into the lift and followed her in.

Harry was impressed. "Brilliant, mate!"

"Thanks." Ron grinned, obviously flattered. He conjured a bucket. "I even know the counter-curse this time...."

*********************

"You – you're a-a...?" Restitutus repeated dumbly.

"Witch," Hermione supplied, walking resolutely through the sparsely populated street in front of the stumbling Pompeiians. A short visit to the House of the Vetii had found it to be empty but for a few cowed house slaves. Conviva had not come home that night.

Undeterred, Hermione decided that they should go to the Forum and hope to find Conviva there along with Snape.

"And the mountain..."

"Is going to explode in about," Hermione squinted up at the sun without breaking her stride, "three or four hours' time." She was just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. The familiar ache in her chest was intensifying. Find Severus. Find Severus.

"And the city..."

"Everyone will die." Hermione shot a steady and meaningful look backwards at Marcella. As if to underline her words, a faint rumble sounded, and Hermione was sure that she could feel the ground shift slightly beneath her feet. She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed that Pliny's account of Vesuvius' eruption was correct; he had been clear that the initial explosion had occurred at noon on the day after the Vulcanalia.

"Die?" Marcella's voice was scratchy with fear. She clutched at Hermione's arm, slowing her progress.

Hermione reached across her chest and grabbed Marcella's hand, holding it firmly in her own and drawing the frightened woman closer to her side as she walked. She found that the action comforted her as well as, it seemed, her companion.

The city appeared to be even quieter this morning than yesterday. Hermione could see a difference to the level of traffic on the pavements. More shops were standing silent and unopened. Perhaps it was due to the festivities of the previous night, or perhaps, rather, due to the increasing numbers of people leaving the city like the family she had encountered the day before. She looked up again at the dark and brooding form of Vesuvius, just visible between the houses at the junction of the road they were crossing, and felt a shiver of dense expectation in the air.

Given Restitutus' account of the massacre in the Forum last night, Hermione was increasingly nervous as she approached the central square. Restitutus had described terrible injuries – Sabazios' followers laying about them, killing and wounding many people.

They turned down a side street, which led to the main road into the Forum, and Hermione tensed. You've seen death before, she chided herself. Focus.

But her heart was beating uncontrollably.

As they walked hesitantly into the central space, Hermione stopped short with her companions and regarded the scene before her in shock.

*

It was as if nothing at all had happened. People were milling about in the market square with stalls and sellers calling out their wares and the usual business of daily life being transacted in front of them. The sun's heat was increasing in intensity, blazing down into the open space.

Hermione waved her hand distractedly in front of her face – the flies were everywhere this morning....

"I-I don't understand. There were dead bodies all around the Forum!" Restitutus' voice was frightened and defensive. "Why does it look so... normal?" He was trembling beside her. Marcella, too, had not let go of her arm. Hermione frowned and held out her hands beside her on either side to prevent them from moving forward. She looked around slowly, taking in the numbers of people and how they were moving about the Forum space.

Her magical senses were thrumming with... something....

It wasn't normal. There was something wrong. She narrowed her eyes, blurring her vision and focused within herself to try to pinpoint where the magical signature was originating from. She swept her vision past Eumachia's building (she never had found out what they building was for), past the sanctuary of the city's lares, the Macellum, the old and partially abandoned Temple of Jupiter, its red brick façade clearly visible through the broken marble that was partially covering it, around to and past the municipal office buildings, and finally to the marble colonnade which obscured the Temple of Apollo to her left.

As her eyes swept around the Forum, she began to feel scratches across her vision. There were areas of the open space in front of her that she did not want to dwell upon; her eyes wanted to slide past them and onto other more comfortable subjects. She took a deep breath once again and forced her eyes to sweep back around the Forum from left to right.

The sun continued to radiate off the baked floor of the market place, causing a shimmering haze to rise from the stones and gravel.

"There's something...," she began, her voice drifting into silence. Now that she was studying the ebb and flow of the human movement across the space, she could see there were areas of the space before her that the citizens were not stepping into. She watched a distracted businessman, his head buried in a written ledger, walking briskly from the Comitium on the eastern side of the Forum towards the Basilica on its western edge. Without any reason that Hermione could see, he broke his stride as he approached her and her companions, turned to the right and walked around in a wide loop to reach his goal, all the while giving no indication that he had been aware of his actions.

She could now see that other people in the Forum were skirting a wide space around the equestrian statue in front of the colonnade. Others were avoiding an area about ten feet square just in front of the Temple of Vespasian on the western side of the Forum. As she looked on, scanning the scene before her, she saw that, despite the numbers of people in the Forum, nobody was approaching the Temple of Apollo.

The flies buzzed insistently around her, and she raised her hand once again to swipe at them. The heat haze in front of her shimmered.

She froze. A fresh dose of adrenaline coursed through her body.

Not a heat haze, she realised with horrified understanding, a Disillusion Charm.... Oh, gods...

***

Within the Temple of Apollo, strung up between two pillars at the top of the staircase, facing the entrance to the inner enclosed sanctuary, Severus heard a dry, slithering noise in front of him.

His partially healed shoulder and collarbone were sending waves of agony through his nervous system, and he was struggling to breathe properly due to the awkward way he was having to kneel off balance and with his torso pitched forward and his head down.

The ropes that bound him dug cruelly into his forearms and wrists. His hands were numb.

The slithering grew closer, and Severus forced himself to stay still and outwardly relaxed. He had limited power and resources. He had no wand, and he was weakened.

"Ssssssssss...." The sibilant sound sent a thrill of fear through him. The memories of another life pushed in on his awareness. He thought he had left the memory of Riddle behind him. Cracking open his left eye, Severus watched as the bloated and pale figure of Sabazios moved into his peripheral vision. Gone was the golden godly figure that the god's glamour charm had projected – the statuesque model of human perfection. In its place was an amalgam of human and snake, fat and rolling as he walked. Sabazios moved somewhat awkwardly, his gait compromised by the serpents that wound their way around his body in and out of the layers of clothing that he was wearing. About him, a faint web of golden filigree strands wove and danced. A shield? Severus thought.

Sabazios regarded the stricken wizard before him quizzically, his head tipped onto one side as the god moved more clearly into Severus' view. Snape averted his eyes, keeping them open only a tiny fraction in an attempt to convince the god that he was still unconscious. Snape felt Sabazios' magical regard, watchful and intense. The god did not trust him, was not sure of him, did not know the depth of the threat that Snape posed... and yet... He was still alive. Severus wondered why.

Without moving his head, he shot a quick, furtive glance from behind his fringe at the brass sundial that was fixed to one of the columns to the left of the Temple's entrance portico. The dial was shining in the morning sunshine, reading somewhere between the ninth and tenth hour of the day. Only a few hours to go before the mountain would explode. Only a few hours to distract Sabazios' attention and keep him in the city.

"Sssooo pleasant to be well fed...." Sabazios appeared to stretch and luxuriate before him, basking like a lizard in the heat of the morning sun. The god revolved slowly before him, and Severus caught scattered glimpses through the golden glow, which surrounded the god, of a ravaged, pale body, areas of scale clearly visible intertwined with human skin. Streaks of dried blood marked areas of flesh and clothing particularly at the hem of his robe.

Snape flicked his eyes away, revolted.

"I am... disssappointed in you, Sssseverus," Sabazios' whispered voice was laced with threat. "Why did you not join your brothers in assserting our majesssty before the human creaturesss last night? Even more disssturbing, why did you try to prevent my... assscendancy... with your little ssshow of petty magic?"

Severus did not respond. He was conscious that his heart was racing, and he sought to calm himself, to prepare himself for whatever was to come.

Sabazios responded to Severus' silence with another rasping noise in his throat and moved closer.

"Ssseverusss... What are you?" Sabazios whispered, but Snape dimly heard the strange harmonics behind it that were associated with Imperio. He gritted his teeth, resisting the need to answer Sabazios' question, and kept his eyes looking downwards at the golden Time-Turner and glass perfume vial that were entwined together around his neck. Entwined and together. Safe and protected. Together. Joined.

Christ, Hermione... His breath caught in his throat. Marcus had said that he knew where she was. He prayed that Marcus had been lying again... that she had got away. She was so intelligent; surely, she would have been able to find a way. Clever girl. Lovely, beautiful, clever girl...

He wished....

He wanted....

Sabazios moved closer. "I can feel you, potions man," the god insisted. "You are not like these people here. You feel... different. Not whole. Out of your place." Severus felt the god's nails rake upwards over the raised ridges of the scars on his neck. "But unlike me, you have remained... human. So pretty... I so miss my human form... it was a necessary sacrifice to attain my powers. How did you do it? How did you do it?" Severus felt a long hooked fingernail curl under his chin and force his face upwards. He kept his eyes shut against the threat of Legilimency, but he began to feel the unpleasant sensation of the god's consciousness trying to force its way into his mind.

"I think that you have cheated death like me," Sabazios pressed. There was a hunger in his voice.

Severus' breath caught in his throat. He schooled himself to be still, to Occlude, to hold fast.

"I can make you tell me, although it will hurt you," Sabazios crooned, his voice soft and compelling.

Nothing. Silence. Severus could feel Sabazios' irritation growing. The claw-like nails that cupped his face began to dig in to his cheeks. The hissing of Sabazios' familiars, twined around the god's distended body, sounded louder in his ears.

Severus took a deep breath and waited in silence, knowing what was to come and hoping that, in his weakened state, he would be able to endure it.

"Crucio."

***

Outside the Temple, in the Forum, Hermione grabbed her stomach and doubled over in agony.