It was the daylight filtering through the window that woke Severus and he came awake abruptly as he always did. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken slowly, perhaps when he'd been a child, before school and its attendant problems had arrived but certainly not since then.
The first thing that made itself known was pain. He ached. Nearly
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He looked up to see a familiar, if slightly changed, face and his eyes narrowed until he placed it. Adrian Pucey. Slytherin. Same year level as the Potter brat. Quiet, intelligent and studious... and no friend of Draco Malfoy's, all of which spoke in his favour. But this version was older... and looking distinctly seedy, something which Severus could actually sympathise with. His encounters with Granger and Davies led him to gesture almost dismissively towards the seat opposite him.
"If you wish," he said, his voice still hoarse from the screaming he had done. He continued sourly, "From your appearance, I gather your foray home was no more enjoyable than mine."
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"Thank you." He said and sat down. He gave Snape's face a fast cursory look, but didn't want to stare so he focused on the man's eyes instead. He looked tired.
"Well... It wasn't exactly a happy adventure, but I can only blame myself for looking like this. May I ask what happened, sir?" He fully expected to be rebuffed, but that would be all right. He'd likely done the same if somebody had approached him like this today. But he'd always been fascinated with Severus Snape, wondered about him, tried to figure out what made a person like him tick.
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He gave Pucey a sour look at the impertinent question and was tempted to just ignore it. But then he decided to offer an answer. Despite his somewhat positive encounters with Granger and Davies, he really had no idea from what point in the timeline Pucey came from and what they meant in terms of his knowledge of Severus' loyalties. Granger had clearly known a great deal about what he'd done over the years and Davies' behaviour had at least indicated that he didn't think Severus to be a cold-blooded murderer. He would be interested in knowing where Pucey stood.
"The Dark Lord," he said as anger, hate and distaste chased themselves across his face for the barest moment. He felt that was really all the answer he needed to give. Pucey's reaction would possibly tell him what he needed to know.
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"I understand," he nodded lightly, still treating his bruised brain with care. The Dark Lord had obviously tortured Snape in some way, and the Cruciatus was a likely choice.
The chance that this Snape... the one he was sitting across from, was the same as from his own timeline wasn't small actually. The man had just vanished after all, after Dumbledore's death. But somewhere, deep down, even if the majority of the Ministry believed otherwise, Adrian couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind Severus Snape's actions than allegience to the Dark Lord. It just didn't make sense in Adrian's mind. And he firmly believed - contrary to the Wizarding worlds general legal system - that people were innocent until proven guilty beyond doubt. That was one of the only things he truly resented about the system he worked in.
"Can I ask you... from when are you?" But he couldn't ask that without offering something in return "I am from year 2000."
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He raised an eyebrow at Pucey's question as he sipped at his tea. So... Pucey came from a time not too far into the future from Severus' point of view. And what's more he seemed to be aware that they were not all from the same place in the timeline.
"1997," he said shortly, a muscle twitching in his cheek and a slightly haunted look rising in his eyes at the reminder of the precise moment he'd come from before arriving in the hotel
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He took a sip of tea as well, letting the information sink into his mind before saying anything further.
"In my time, you have still not been found. And the Dark Lord has not yet been vanquished by Potter." But the desperate acts the Death Eaters had fallen back on could be a sign that things were coming to an end. He hoped so.
"I'm an Auror." He said, mostly to say something since his brain surely wasn't offering much intelligence, and also to let Snape know.
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His eyes narrowed at the thought that the Dark Lord still had not been defeated in 2000. He had hoped the war would be short and swift, not something lingered. Then he tensed. Pucey was an Auror? That was the last thing he needed.
"I... see," he said warily, his fingers twitching as he calculated how long it would take to retrieve his wand. It also made him wonder why Pucey had chosen to sit here.
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"I'm not here to judge you, or capture you, Professor. I've known you as the Head of my house and my professor for 7 years of my life and always... trusted you. As far as a Slytherin can trust, of course." His lips did twitch a little at that.
"Unlike the majority of my colleagues, I believe there is more than meets the eye in your actions. And I believe in innocence, until proven guilty beyond doubt." Not that he believed Snape was truly innocent. Nobody was anymore.
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He sneered as he took a sip of tea, keeping his dark eyes fixed on Pucey's face.
"Do you now?" he said harshly, bitterly, prepared to speak the words here in the strange sanctuary of this hotel that he would most assuredly keep to himself anywhere else. "Pretty words indeed. But I am guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt by any Auror's standards, Pucey. I killed Albus. I will not deny it. There were witnesses. I cannot deny it. No matter what the circumstances were, no matter what my reasons are, it cannot change that one salient fact. How does that fit into your surprisingly noble world view?"
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"I know you killed Dumbledore and that you're no innocent in that sense. I don't think any of us are innocents anymore. I do however not think that you should disregard your own motivations that easily. I don't. The Headmaster would have died within a very short time span anyway and knowing him, and knowing you both from school and from the files on you from the first war, I can't believe there wasn't something more than the case of a simple murder. My world view doesn't matter, noble or not... the facts and what I've derived from them do."
This was making his head hurt more again. He took a good swallow of the tea that had gone lukewarm.
"You're not the only one who's killed in this war, Professor." Adrian said a little more sharply, meeting the man's black gaze squarely "In the line of duty. What was your duty, Professor Snape? Doing the biddings of the Dark Lord? Or something else?" He hadn't wanted to ask the question, but now he didn't think he had any choice.
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He felt a hint of relief flow through him as he continued to listen to Pucey and he shifted slightly in his seat, wincing and hissing quietly as his remaining bruises protested the movement.
When Pucey asked abut his duty, he remained silent at first, drinking his tea and debating with himself as to whether he should say anymore. There was a large part of him that was screaming out to keep silent but another part was suggesting that he should place a small amount of trust in Pucey. If they were ever released by this place then having at least one Auror who knew the truth might be valuable, especially since it was clear that he was still in hiding in Pucey's time.
Eventually the Ministry was going to catch up with him and it was going to take a great deal of ingenuity from the Order to keep him out of Azkaban. Most people weren't going to listen to tales of spying and necessity. All they were going to hear was "Snape murdered Dumbledore" and think that all he deserved was the Dementor's Kiss. Truth be told, Severus wasn't entirely convinced that he didn't deserve that fate.
"I am a spy, Mr Pucey. I was doing what was necessary," he finally said, buying himself a little more time to think since he knew that what he'd just said wasn't an answer to the question he'd been asked - Who were you working for?
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A spy... well, that could mean many things and wasn't really the information he needed. He took a bite of food when his stomach and his head reminded him he was hungry and actually needed something to eat. As he chewed, he considered if he wanted to pursue this conversation further, or pull back and leave it up to Snape to say what he wanted, when he wanted to. He really didn't have the brain for this today. He'd made quite sure of that last night.
"Well, that doesn't tell me much, Professor. I suspected as much." He took another sip of tea and decided to leave it be for the moment. Perhaps he'd manage more coherent thought processes when he'd had something to eat.
"But I'm not here in the function of Auror. And given the Hotel's apparent power over us, I doubt I'll be in that function for a while yet." Adrian sighed and picked up some egg and bacon. This was exactly what he needed for his hangover.
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The Cruciatus curse affected the nerves, causing them to send constant and intense pain stimuli to the brain. If left for too long, the brain overloaded as had happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, simply unable to deal with the pain anymore. But, untreated, the Cruciatus had lingering side effects once it had been removed by the caster and this was one of them. For about two days the nerves had a tendency to fire at random intervals. The effect was painful, doubly so with the bruises Severus wore, but would eventually go away. Having been subjected to three Cruciatus curses, the side effects were inevitable.
In Severus' case though, he always had a small amount of warning. His back would lead the way, the muscles there twitching and cramping first before the rest of his body followed suit.
He fumbled his tea cup back into the saucer, spilling the remains of his tea and knocking his half-empty plate as he tried to get to his feet, hoping to get back to his room before it started. He managed to get halfway there before the twitching spread. His knees went out from underneath him and he caught at the tablecloth with one hand, dimly hearing the sound of a plate crashing to the floor. He cursed himself for forgetting that this could happen and being foolish enough to come out of his room as he crumpled to the floor, his body spasming painfully.
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"Shit!" In a second he was out of his chair, ignoring the small wave of dizzyness, then dropped down in a crouch next to Snape.
"Are you all right, Professor? Do you need help?" Frowning in worry, Adrian reached out and touched Snape's shoulder. He could feel the spasms and damned himself and the hotel for not being able to do anything at all. He hated feeling helpless like this. It had to be aftereffects of the Cruciatus. He knew of them, but they were so rarely seen since people who were exposed to it, usually got help through spells and potions before it came to this.
"Do you have something in your room that might help you?"
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"No," he gasped. "Can't... potions need... magic... will pass... in a minute."
It was nearly five minutes in fact before the spasms started to ease and Severus was able to draw in a proper breath. Five very long minutes. Once they eased to mere shivers, Severus hauled himself up to a sitting position, his lank hair falling into his face. His body was aching again and he wasn't entirely sure he could stand right now. It had been a long time since he'd had to suffer through this and he silently cursed the hotel, the Bellboy and the Dark Lord.
"I had potions," he said after swallowing hard. "The hotel rendered them inert when I was brought here. I cannot brew anymore because they require magic in their making. This... will pass."
He shook his hair out of his face and leaned back against the leg of the table.
"I have felt the effects of the Cruciatus enough to know that this is not permanent," he said roughly. "Merely unpleasant because I cannot stop it from happening. It would not even be this severe except the Cruciatus was cast three times and the Dark Lord was angry."
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Snape obviously hadn't been lucky and Adrian would well imagine the force of a spell cast by an angered Dark wizard of Voldemort's power.
He could only watch though, keeping his hand on Snape's shoulder and hoping it wouldn't last too long.
When Snape sat up and spoke, he was relieved. He nodded "Well, I didn't figure... he was in a good mood, if he cast this on you. You should have asked to have food brought to your room." But he knew stubborness when he saw it. He'd likely have done the same.
"Do you want something to drink?"
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