46. Chapter 46

I definitely don't regret posting on Saturday. Thank you all so very much for your reviews. It's been great reading your reactions and I couldn't help but laugh evilly at times.
Small warning. The upcoming chapter contains pain and violence. Enjoy!

Chapter 46

When Harry next woke, his body was no longer frozen. He still couldn't move, though and when he opened his eyes he found out why that was. He was lying flat on his back on what used to be part of the long table that ran along the middle of the lab but was now transfigured into what seemed to be a rack. A medieval torture device Harry knew from some of his history books. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he thought of what the device could do.

"I see that you're finally awake," an unfamiliar voice said. Harry shifted his head to look in the direction the voice had come from to find an unfamiliar person staring at him. It was a tall man who seemed to be rather old. His short hair was mostly grey bit still showed flecks of the brown it once probably was. His eyes – though brown – were cold and serious and showed none of the joy that his smile seemed to emanate.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, surprised that his voice hadn't trembled.

"Don't you recognise me?" the man asked. "We have been brewing together for a while now. I should hope that you wouldn't forget me after all we've been through together."

"John?" Harry asked, trying to shake the confusion from his still murky brain.

"In the flesh," the man said with a small bow. "Well, not exactly, of course. Since I'll be done here in a few hours, I don't have the need to drink that dreadful Polyjuice potion anymore."

Harry growled as he struggled against his bonds. But it was no use. "Who are you?!" he shouted.

The man laughed but his eyes still held no joy. "Shout all you want, dear friend." He said amusedly. "I've had the common sense to cast a silencing spell on the room. No one will hear you."

Harry just stared at the man now, willing him to answer his question but not wanting to ask it again.

"Oh, alright," the man said. "I'm surprised that you don't recognise me. I go by the name of Augustus Rookwood."

Harry gasped as he stared at Rookwood. "What?" he asked. "Why would you even be here?"

"Think, Harry," Rookwood said. Harry felt dirty just by hearing his name on the Death Eater's tongue. "It was a means to witness the results of my experiments first-hand. This disease was my masterpiece, you see? And it was going rather well –" Rookwood glared menacingly at Harry, slapping him lightly – almost playfully – in the face. "- Until you and Snape came along. Honestly, from one scientist to another, did you think it polite to come in between me and my research?"

"You were murdering people!" Harry exclaimed.

"Muggles," Rookwood shrugged. "Vermin that is no better than the mice that gnaw away at your walls, or the rabbits that ransack your garden. I never hurt an actual person."

Harry stared at Rookwood, dumbfounded to realize that the man was completely serious.

"You've hurt one of my friends!" Harry accused.

"A muggle friend?" Rookwood asked, his eyebrow raised in question. "So get another one. They are as replaceable as dogs."

Harry felt a white-hot flash of rage as he struggled against the chains that bound him once more, wanting nothing more than to punch Rookwood right in the nose.

"Calm yourself, Harry," Rookwood said evenly. "You might hurt yourself before I get a chance to. Now, I've noticed that fine little artefact you carry with you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry spat.

"Don't play dumb with me, boy," Rookwood warned. "I've seen you use that cuff many times over. Daily even. You use it to stay in touch with your father. It's rather heart-warming, really."

Rookwood gently stroked Harry's arm right above the cuff and Harry shivered involuntarily.

"What say you we summon him here, shall we?" Rookwood asked. "After all, he had much to do with ruining my experiment. Not as much as you, mind you but I would still like to send a message that it will not do to mess with my plans."

Rookwood clicked the small quill out of the cuff and ignored the growl that escaped Harry's throat.

From his vantage point, Harry could see the message that Rookwood was sending to Snape.

'If you want to see Harry alive one last time, come alone to lab 7 within 15 minutes.'

"You realize that you can't win against him, right?" Harry said, trying to get a reaction out of the stoic potioneer. But the man just smiled at him.

"Oh, dear boy," he said warmly. "I've had plenty of time to prepare for this eventuality. Your dear old father does not stand a chance."

"You're mental!" Harry said.

"I beg to differ," Rookwood replied as he sat down on a stool next to Harry. "I'm simply a tad distraught that you got in my way. It's a pity, really –" Rookwood pulled on a handle that caused the chains around Harry's limbs to tighten painfully. " – I was truly enjoying cooperating with you, watching the next generation of brewers develop. And then, you went and did this."

Rookwood sounded almost sad when he pulled the handle again and Harry grit his teeth as he felt the painful strain on his limbs.

"So this is all some kind of sick act of revenge?" Harry asked, breathing a bit more heavily than before.

"Exactly so," Rookwood said. "I realize that it might come across as petty –" he pulled the handle again, " – and in a way, I suppose that it is. But even a man as patient as myself has his limits. And I will not have you or Severus thwart me ever again."

When Rookwood pulled the handle once more, Harry finally cried out. He heard a popping sound and felt an excruciating pain in his left ankle that was only suffering all the more because of the inhuman strain on his body.

"AAAARGH!"

"Hush now," Rookwood admonished. "We've scarcely begun."

"Let me go, you psychopath," Harry snarled through gritted teeth. "I can't believe you're torturing me simply because your ego was bruised!"

Rookwood looked at him sharply, glaring daggers at the boy before he smirked unnaturally wide. "My research is all that I have left now," he said, patting Harry's injured ankle. He cocked his head to the side as he continued to regard Harry. "You've taken that away from me. So now, I'll take away from you what you deem most precious."

"You can never – AAAAAH!"

Rookwood pulled the handle again, a positively bored expression on his face as Harry felt both of his wrists snap at the same time. There was nothing he could do to stop the tears from flowing down his face.

Rookwood leaned over and gently wiped away his tears. "Don't cry, young apprentice," he said soothingly. "You have to be strong. Can you do that for me?"

"You're a MONSTER!" Harry spat. He tried to bite the hand that was still wiping away his tears but Rookwood was too fast.

"Perhaps I am just that," Rookwood mused. "I fear that my beliefs and ideals are no longer accepted in this strange new world." He leaned leisurely against the handle, almost teasing Harry since he could not expect when next it would be pulled. "I was once revered as someone knowledgeable; admirable even among my peers, you know?"

"Among your Death Eater friends, you mean," Harry snarled.

Rookwood clicked his tongue. "Don't forget that your father was also one of us." He laughed bitterly. "Your father," he repeated amusedly. "If Lord Voldemort were still alive he might have wiped out the continent when he learned the news."

"But he's not," Harry replied with a sense of accomplishment. "We killed him. The two of us together."

"And now the two of you will die together, won't you, you little runt?" Rookwood spat in a tone that seemed very different from the way he had been talking earlier. Harry nearly blacked out when he felt the strains finally dislocate his right ankle but there was something in the air that kept him from doing so.

"Enjoying the pain?" Rookwood asked coyly. "Judging by the number of scars on your body, you are somewhat of a masochist."

If Harry had been able to struggle at his bonds, he would have but not only was his strength leaving him fast, his limbs could and would not cooperate with him anymore.

Harry didn't respond. He simply glared at Rookwood, clenching his teeth together with so much force that he wondered if they would break soon. All the while he was wondering where in the world Snape was and what was keeping him so long. Had he fallen asleep again?

"Tell me, Harry," Rookwood said sweetly. "Do you want me to continue? Does this strike your fancy?" He pulled the handle again, a bit further this time and Harry screamed in agony when he felt his elbows pop out of their sockets. It was some of the worst pain he had ever felt. Immediately, he felt his hands go numb and was vaguely aware of feeling his heartbeat in his ankles and the unnatural strain on his kneecaps. Surely, they would be the next thing to go.

"STOP!" Harry shouted.

"Oh?" Rookwood cooed. Harry vaguely got the impression that the man was becoming more and more unhinged the longer he talked to him. "Not as much a fan as I thought, then? It's alright. You can just beg me to stop instead, hm?"

"Why are you doing this?" Harry cried, his voice now decidedly unsteady.

"I already explained this to you, Harry," Rookwood snarled. "You need to learn to listen. If Snape had already made his appearance, the pain would have already stopped. Did he misplace the floo powder or something?"

"He won't come," Harry said, a part of him hoping that Snape would stay away but a larger part of him hoping that his father would come to rescue him. "He's too clever to walk into a trap like this."

Rookwood nodded. "Once upon a time, I would have agreed with you," he said, gently brushing a strand of hair out of Harry's face. He smiled. "But not anymore. He cares for you. I've seen it. And you know it."

Another twitch of the chains and the distinct sound of cartilage snapping and bones breaking. The pull at Harry's already destroyed ligaments was agonizing enough on its own but the feel of his knees dislocating as well as his kneecaps breaking, elicited a howl of deep pain. One that made Rookwood chuckle.

"Poor little Harry," he teased. "Was able to defeat Voldemort when he was still a child but can't seem to hold himself together after a few minutes of torture." Rookwood laughed. "No pun intended."

As Harry breathed, he couldn't help the keening that escaped him. He would be horrified at himself had he been able to think beyond the pain.

"If you're going to kill me anyway, why don't you?" he practically begged. "There's no need for all of this."

"If Severus doesn't get here within five minutes, I will," Rookwood said placatingly. "But for now, you'll just have to hold on for a moment more. Don't worry. I'll sit with you."

Rookwood moved his stool to sit slightly behind Harry and to the boy's horror, the man started stroking his hair.

"Everything will be alright," he whispered in a tone that could have been described as lovingly had it come from anyone else. "Soon, there will be no more pain."

Harry sobbed because of the horrific pain that would not leave his abused limbs alone. He wanted desperately to pass out but was unable to. To make matters even worse, Rookwood began singing, ever so softly as he continued stroking Harry's hair as would a mother to comfort their child.

"Stop it," Harry hissed through the soft humming. But Rookwood ignored him and kept gently stroking the boy, now occasionally kissing him on the forehead.

Harry's breathing hitched painfully as he tried his best not to move. How did he always get into these kinds of messes?

"Dad," he croaked desperately, as Rookwood placed a soft kiss in his neck.

"I think you may be right, Harry," Rookwood said softly. "Severus seems to care less about you than he does about himself. But that's alright. You have me now."

Harry shuddered in pain and disgust as Rookwood's hand caressed his chest softly as it travelled down. "It is nearly time," he whispered in Harry's ear. "Can you hear the ticking of the clock? Tick –" he stroked Harry's thigh, grinning as the boy whimpered. "- tock."

Harry didn't register what happened next all that well but he became aware of the distinct feel of a powerful blast of air and the sudden disappearance of Rookwood's presence.

"Stay away from my son!" Snape shouted and Harry lifted his head slightly to look at the entrance to the lab in relief. Snape stood there, his wand extended and a furious look in his eyes. His gaze flickered towards Harry momentarily. He flicked his wand and Harry was liberated from his bonds. The sudden flood of renewed agony, caused by the abrupt release caused him to cry out in pain once more but Snape didn't rush to his aid, as he would no doubt normally have done. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on Rookwood who was laughing as he got back up.

"Making an entrance at the very last minute, Severus?" he asked gleefully. "I never took you for one who appreciated dramatics. But I'm sure that Harry loved you drawing out his agony as much as you have."

Snape did his best not to allow Rookwood to distract him with his taunts. It was already difficult enough not to hurry to Harry's side and take him away from the wretched man standing across the room. The boy was clearly in agony, not to mention the foul things Rookwood was doing to him as Snape arrived. He shuddered at the thought. This man had truly descended into madness.

Snape took a few daring steps forward when Rookwood clicked his tongue.

"Not so fast, Severus," he chided. "You should watch your step."

Snape growled and flicked his wand in Rookwood's direction, cursing to kill. But Rookwood erected a shield as he crouched to take cover behind the table.

"Tell me, Severus," Rookwood hissed. "What do you get when you combine chimaera oil with phoenix feathers?"

Snape angrily thrust his wand forward, causing the table to explode into thick, jagged pieces. He quickly erected a shield of his own to shield both him and his son from the chunks.

Rookwood flicked his own wand in retaliation but instead of firing a curse, he tipped a jar on one of the shelves next to Snape, causing it to fall the floor, the oily substance within spreading quickly. Before Snape could respond, Rookwood summoned a phoenix feather that was hidden underneath the table in Snape's vicinity and dragged it through the oil.

Snape tried erecting a shield to protect himself from the blast but he was not able to do so in time. The arm that he raised instinctively to shield his eyes took the brunt of the damage. Judging from the pain, Snape guessed that he suffered third-degree burns at the least. A fire was started because of the blast that was now burning through the shelves quite quickly and heading towards the tipua leaves via a path created by the oil.

At that moment, Snape had to make a split decision. He could focus his attention on Rookwood and try to incapacitate him as soon as possible or he could stop the fire from reaching the tipua leaves. If he didn't do the latter, the toxic fumes released by the burning leaves would no doubt prove fatal within minutes. He could protect himself with a bubblehead charm but Harry would have no such protection. The choice was an easy one to make.

Snape focused his attention on the fire, vanishing oil that had not been set alight yet as well as casting aguamenti to douse the flames. This allowed Rookwood to start firing hexes and curses as he pleased but Snape knew that the man was not the best dueller. And even while focused on the fire, he still managed to block and dodge most of the enemy spells fired in his direction. Some weren't even close to connecting with him, which Snape could only be thankful for at that moment.

When he finally managed to douse the fire, he turned his attention back to his former colleague.

"Stop this right now, Augustus," he snarled, worrying more and more about his son that lay writhing in tremendous pain. "How do you even expect to win this?"

"There is always an answer," Rookwood replied easily. "But I'm not about to tell you what that is."

Snape fired a slew of Sectumsemprae in Rookwood's direction, wanting nothing more than to sever the man's head clean from his torso. A few of the curses connected with Rookwood but the man didn't seem the least bit perturbed, despite the blood he was now rapidly losing.

"That's not very original, coming from you, is it?" Rookwood taunted. Snape just grit his teeth as he did his best to ignore the stabbing pains that ran through his arm. He then noticed that Rookwood produced a potion and lifted his wand to try and make a pre-emptive attack.

"Should you really be looking this way?" Rookwood called. "Your son is coming perilously close to dying!"

Snape's heart skipped a beat as he glanced over at Harry and realized that Rookwood's missed attacks from earlier had actually been spot on. He had blasted several jars that were placed strategically in Harry's vicinity. A sort of gas erupted from all of them that seemed to mix into something that Snape could only imagine would be highly lethal.

He cursed under his breath, erected a shield and moved closer to Harry. But Rookwood wasn't even attempting to block him from doing so at that moment. Instead, he drank the potion. Snape noticed the sickly black colour of the potion and thought he knew what it was but didn't have the time to dwell on it at that moment. As soon as he reached Harry, he charmed a gust of wind into existence that blew the gas in Rookwood's direction. For good measure, he cast a bubblehead charm on Harry to prevent any future traps of this manner.

"I'm sorry, dad," Harry groaned. Snape wanted very much to comfort Harry but he knew that he couldn't afford the distraction. Harry seemed to understand as he closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"I'll wrap this up quickly," Snape said softly so that Rookwood wouldn't hear him. He focused his attention on Rookwood again and noticed that the man's earlier injuries had vanished completely. It then became clear as day what the man had drunk.

"You must really be desperate," Snape said stoically. "I'm starting to believe that you do not have much of a plan, after all."

"I had a plan, Severus," Rookwood snarled as he now came towards Snape as if he feared his assaults no more. "But you and your little apprentice saw fit to get in the way of that."

Snape cast a blasting curse at Rookwood that the man was too slow to block but even though it connected, it hardly seemed to have any effect. As was to be expected, of course.

Now Rookwood cast several hexes in a row. Snape blocked and dodged what he could, crying out in agony when he landed painfully onto his injured arm.

"Oh, did you hurt your arm?" Rookwood asked. "Maybe you need some burning salve!" with another flick of his wand, a jar of said substance flew off the shelves and would have landed on Snape's head had he not ducked underneath a part of the table that still stood upright.

"No?" Rookwood asked as he marched closer. "You are so unkind to reject my assistance. I thought we were old friends."

Snape sent another cutting hex Rookwood's way and cursed heavily when it seemed to cause absolutely no damage.

"Let Harry go, Augustus," Snape said. He crawled underneath the table to come out the other way. "It's me you really want."

"Is it?" Rookwood asked. "And since when do you know anything about what I want?" he cast another spell at Snape that was about to land somewhere on his left shoulder so Snape stepped to the right and out of the way. No sooner had he done that when he heard an awful snapping sound and the sudden sharp feeling of the breaking of bone and the piercing of flesh. He inhaled sharply when he became aware of the pain and glanced down to see what seemed to be a bear trap compressed around his foot. Only, he knew that it hadn't been there a moment before.

"I've always been better at transfiguration than you have," Rookwood pointed out smugly. "Misdirection as well."

Snape was aware of the jar of acidic Asian scorpion venom sitting on top of the shelf above Rookwood and tried his best not to glance at it, lest Rookwood realized that it was there as well. Balancing his weight on his healthy leg, he pointed his wand at Rookwood's chest to distract the man but used his left hand to wandlessly topple the jar over. Unfortunately for Rookwood, he was standing right beneath it as the jar smashed and the acid splashed all over his head and back.

Rookwood didn't scream. He didn't writhe. He didn't exhibit any sort of signs that he was in pain. His clothes were smoking somewhat and melting where the acid had landed but his skin didn't seem to react at all.

"Your death is going to be a very painful one," Snape sneered. "I do hope you're prepared."

"I will take you down with me before that happens," Rookwood snarled. "Just look at you. You're stuck."

"Am I?" While Rookwood had been dealing with the acid, Snape had quickly tapped the trap with his wand, ordering it to release him. It was now tossed aside, laying forgotten next to Snape's mangled foot.

Rookwood growled and cast another slew of spells in Snape's direction. He blocked each one easily as he kept his gaze locked onto Rookwood's.

"You're losing focus fast, Augustus," Snape said mockingly. "Tick tock, as you say."

Snape realised that at some point – probably before they had even started fighting – Rookwood had become completely unhinged. There was a crazed look in his eyes and the way he was breathing rapidly between clenched teeth made Snape surprised that he wasn't frothing at the mouth.

"Tick-tock," he said again, purposely taunting his adversary.

"I'll show you," Rookwood growled. "Avada –"

Much could be said about the killing curse but there was a good reason that it was not the only spell in a Death Eater's repertoire. Not only was it always obvious that it was to be cast, its wand movement left the caster in question wide open and the curse took a long time to cast. Time that was very precious in the midst of battle. Which is why this was precisely what Snape had been waiting for.

As soon as the first syllable left Rookwood's mouth, he ducked and threw himself under the table again, seeing nothing but Rookwood's feet as he uttered the second syllable. Non-verbally, he cast his next spell, by firmly planting his hands on the floor, his wand connecting both hands as he envisioned the ground to crack. It did under his command as Rookwood uttered the second syllable of the second word. But it was fast enough. He lost his footing as the ground opened up beneath him and he stumbled to fall onto the jagged cracks that the stone had formed, only to have the floor close up around him again.

This was not a spell meant to wound anyone but to capture someone. Rookwood could not have protected himself against that. Snape got up from under the table as Rookwood stumbled, his balance broken by the awkward position in which he was captured. He had not dropped his wand though and was now aiming it in Harry's direction.

"I can still kill the boy," Rookwood snarled. "If nothing else, I can still take his –"

Snape did not allow Rookwood to say anything else. He drew back his hand for a moment before punching Rookwood square in the jaw as hard as he could. This did not injure his old colleague but it did cause him to drop his wand.

"You will never lay another hand on Harry," Snape growled as he stepped on Rookwood's wand, cracking it with his weight. "In fact, you will never lay another hand on anyone. Your time is up."

Rookwood laughed. "What makes you so different?" he asked. "Why can you continue living your life while I can't?"

Snape sneered, showing nothing but disgust for the Death Eater now babbling in front of him. "As a very good friend of mine once said: 'It's our choices that show what we truly are'. And I would like to add to that that these choices gave me the right while yours condemned you."

Rookwood grinned broadly as he stared at Snape. "Tick-tock," he said. Some blood drizzled from between his teeth.

"Tick-tock," he said again as gashes and cuts appeared all over his body. Blood started oozing from all over his body.

Where the acid had touched him before, his skin now started to melt until it started to look like candle wax. "Tick tock!" he screeched as more and more injuries started to litter his body. Injuries that Snape knew could never be survived.

"Tick-tock," Snape agreed. "It is the sound of your life running out."

Rookwood said no more. His eyes glazed over as his body crumpled. His arms dropped lifelessly next to him as his body half-collapsed as it was still captured in the stone maws of the floor. Snape was suddenly very aware of the broken pieces of Rookwood's wand still under his foot. And as sudden as this battle had happened, it was over. Nothing to show for it but a broken laboratory, a dead Death Eater and two mangled potioneers.

Did you all enjoy the chapter? I certainly loved writing it! Please let me know what you thought in a review. Tomorrow I will post the very last chapter. See you then!