@perniciouspotter​

melancolialunar​:

Muggle London did have a false sense of security to it, but unlike Severus, Remus found himself leaning into it, these days. He was the type of man to let himself indulge in the fantasy, even if just for a moment – sure, retreating back to reality ended up being a bucket of cold water, but he was nothing if not used to this sort of muted agony in his life. Perhaps there was something of self-penitence there too, letting himself pretend he could ever be just another bloke sitting at a coffee shop thinking about what he was going to have for lunch, before returning to the ice cold brutality of being a werewolf stuck in the middle of a war.

He watched his companion sit down, making themselves the spitting image of something comfortable, though Remus could imagine that there was some level of tension under their skin. There was no way Severus would trust him so blindly – and they were right, this was the whole point of this encounter.

“That’s exactly why I asked you to meet me, anyway. I mean– old time’s sake.” He echoed, hand idly moving over to wrap around his cup of cappuccino, even though he had no intention of having a sip from it now. It was just something for his hands to do, something he could focus his eyes on, as if the back and forth swirl of the warm liquid required his attention more than the person in front of him.

He cleared his throat, silently cursed the pregnant pause hanging in the air, before turning his eyes back up to Severus in the hopes of not looking like a total coward when he spoke next. “I want to apologise.”

Severus blinked silently for a long and still moment, then hummed curiously, head tilted back. The crackle of anger flared instantly, like a hot sun burst into furious existence deep in their belly. Their jaw tensed with the effort to keep themself contained. ‘ How unexpected, ’ they finally said, when the ringing in their ears settled down some. They leaned forward and picked up a scone in a careless manner, hummed again, elbows on the table, one hand under their chin, thoughtful. ‘ How very surprising, ’ they repeated. A beat of silence. ‘ You think I’ll poison you? Yes? With the wolfsbane? ’ It wasn’t an unappealing prospect. But it was more trouble than it was worth. Severus had long since entertained and discarded the idea, so Lupin’s concerns weren’t completely misplaced, at least. ‘ If that was my intention, Lupin, and this was your attempt to stop me, it was a useless one. And about a decade late, besides. ’ 

They waved the hand with the scone about with a flourish. ‘ But go on now, ’ they said. Their manner was flippant, but their whole focus was now hefted upon Lupin, the heavy unnamed pressure of being pinned by the eyes of a predator. There was no right answer to what Severus was asking. They watched for something to lunge at, and whatever Lupin said next, they would find it. ‘ Don’t let me stop you! What’ve you got to say for yourself? ’

@theoselwyn​

June 24th, 1984. Liverpool.

The wail of the amulets cut through the quiet afternoon like a sword. There was a split second of silence when the three of them exchanged looks, then — with a pop, Severus was on the other side of the house where Prewett and Selwyn were and where the signal was coming from.

Where’s Prewett, Severus thought, seeing the squadron of Death Eaters plow their way through the street, heedless of the attention they were getting from the gathering crowd. One of the masked figures stepped forward and sent a curse out flying towards a bystander — the muggle dropped on the spot and didn’t move. It didn’t take long for the crowd to descend into chaos, people running in every direction as the Death Eaters continued their march. 

There was no time to find Prewett. They jumped into the fray without a second thought.

melancolialunar​:

As expected – perhaps by no one else but himself –, the full moon night had been an absolute nightmare. Remus followed all the steps, he took the wolfsbane potion obediently, then locked himself up in a cage that was a tad too small for the fully grown wolf by now, and then he ignored his father’s nervous footsteps on the room next door. And then he waited. And he turned. The eclipse was a funny thing; it was almost as if the shadow was reaching down, curling a hand around his very spine and shaking him around violently. The wolfsbane potion almost felt like a joke.

Waking up wasn’t any easier, though at least he managed to crawl into a bath, hoping the warm water would soothe the bruises lighting up every spot that his body had thrashed against the metal bars. It didn’t, but at least it helped wash away the blood. Lyall had disappeared, as he often did the morning afters, avoiding his son’s eyes at any cost. Remus preferred it that way, too.

He peered through the peephole first, and opened the door with a pair of furrowed brows. He was positive he looked like a truck just ran him over, but hey, if Severus wanted to study their subject, then they might as well see him at his second-worst. “You brought food.” He echoed, accent thick in his tiredness, eyes focused on the mentioned pot for a lingering moment of silence. “I should ask you something to make sure it’s really you, but that smells good enough that I’m willing to die for it.” He sighed, walking back into the house and letting Severus follow him in.

As someone who dealt in secrets and information, Severus was less than reassured by how easily he was let in, but he walked into the house and let the door fall shut behind him wordlessly. He would lecture about security and stranger-danger when the werewolf didn’t look dead on his feet. Which made Severus wonder about the state of the wards on this house, if they were up to standard — somehow, he doubted Lupin bothered to install a three-tiered blood-bound protective ward around the property, but resolved to ask anyway. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to at least run a diagnostic later too.

Severus set the pot and the plate of warm bread down on the coffee table, and soon enough he was settled on the couch, notes spread out, and a steaming bowl of chicken soup in his left hand extended out towards Lupin. When Mum was sick, those long and dragging years before she passed, the neighbors filed in with pots and plates of food, and pity, which the proud witch did not care for, and one by one she drove them all away with mean-spirited and bitter lashings, and Severus would sit on her bedside with a bowl of soup and a table spoon until she calmed down. She wanted to see him and only him on her last days, and he knew his Mum then in a way he couldn’t for all seventeen years prior. 

Lupin was always sick on the day after a full moon. Severus didn’t think it through when he made and packed the soup and bread this morning, but now, making the offer, it suddenly felt uncomfortable. ‘ I need you focused, ’ he said. ‘ You look like death. ’ 

He picked up his notes and quill, flipped through a few pages, and settled back against the couch. A hand went up to tuck a strand behind his ear. ‘ What happened yesterday? Walk me through it. ’

madeyed-andmoody:

The spelled and warded doors were a habit at this point. They didn’t need anyone not privy to this sensitive information overhearing anything. Not that people in the Order wouldn’t be told. Of course they would, but it was a delicate situation, and a precarious balance, and Moody oftentimes hated it.

Alastor valued Severus’s bluntness, but now it felt like a suckered punch to the gut. They had not accounted for this, not truly. She was the Lieutenant. He straightened fully, back like an arrow, muscles coiled, eyes focused on their face, searching for any indication there was doubt. When Moody didn’t find it, he cursed aloud, running a across his mouth, teeth grit.

When Severus continued with the Lestranges, more explotives, this time far more colorful and vulgar (often about their mothers and the devil’s cunt they sprung from) than the last followed. Alastor knew who Severus was talking about, and he nodded, already casting a patronus charm and sending a message off to Hestia, asking her to come immediately, that they had new information, that teams needed to be altered.

They would figure this out. They would not sent their people to slaughter. Those children would survive, even if Alastor himself had to go down there and stick Black’s head on a bloody pike himself.

helloxhestia​: ​

Hestia was happy to finally be getting into work today. She’d been trying to for the past four days to find a little time in the office, but even thought it was the day before their next major mission, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to head in, double check her files, and then head back for any finalizing that needed to get done.

Just as she was about to head out the door, a silvery wisp flew in through her window. Moody’s eagle.

The eagle spoke with Moody’s voice and told her she needed to get there immediately. They needed to adjust teams. The day before.

Hestia immediately apparated to the closest location she was able, then stalked into the meeting room, swinging open the doors. 

She was about to acknowledge Moody, when she realized Severus was there as well. Before she could stop herself, she let out an audible groan, knowing exactly what his presence met. She addressed Severus directly.

“What did you hear?”

Severus stared back at Moody’s shocked face, grim but unmoved. The older man cursed creatively, and Severus waited out the initial reaction — it was not unexpected nor undeserved. 

Severus’ mind ran a mile a minute. Bellatrix was the Lieutenant, not some freshly inducted foot soldier on their trial run out to kill a few muggles to get their feet wet. Her involvement plucked a thread of suspicion in Severus’ mind, an unnamed, vague unease, like they were missing something vital that they really shouldn’t. Did Bellatrix volunteer for this mission of her own accord? It didn’t seem unlikely. This was just the thing she’d do on her day off, anyway.

The doors swung open and Hestia stalked inside. Severus lifted an eyebrow at her greeting, but didn’t waste time. ‘ Bellatrix Lestrange and the brothers will be at Liverpool, ’ they said. ‘ I don’t believe the Liverpool team is prepared to face them on their own. ’ They inclined their head towards Moody. ‘ He agrees. ’ Severus wasn’t sure any of their 3-a-piece teams were equipped to deal with the Lestranges on such short notice. Which was what prompted their following suggestion. ‘ Send me to Liverpool. Whatever team we decide on I should be on it. ’

@helloxhestia​ @madeyed-andmoody​

@melancolialunar​

June 14th, 1984. The Lupins’ household.

Severus stepped over the cobblestoned garden path and up the steps in a straight, uninterrupted walk, but as they stopped before the closed door, they hesitated. They were keenly interested to see how the adjusted Wolfsbane fared against the eclipse, and that was what brought them here in the first place, but before they rang the bell to Lupin’s mother’s house, they felt a rush of nerves at what awaited them and what to expect from this visit. The last time they dealt with an eclipse, Severus didn’t see Lupin for nearly a week. And the wolfsbane was completely ineffective then. Now — Severus wanted to see for themself. 

They shifted the strap of the work bag against their shoulder, adjusted the pot of hot soup in their hands, took a deep breath that they let out slowly. They rang the doorbell, and waited. ‘ Good to see you’re still alive, ’ Severus greeted dryly. But not dishonestly. ‘ We have a lot of work to do, ’ they lifted the shoulder with the bag strap briefly, shifted their stance, and patted the lid of the steaming pot of chicken soup. Then declared their offering, ‘ I brought food. ’

Severus flinched at the flagrant use of the Dark Lord’s name from little old Potter, no less — who do you think you are?! An old thought that sprang to the top of his mind every time he had the opportunity to be in the arrogant boy’s presence for more than a moment, and thus all the more easily dismissed for it’s recurrence. Potter held himself above the rest, as always, but from the way he carried himself it seemed to Severus he was merely keeping his head above water.

Severus tipped his chin up as he followed Potter to the living room. Shoulders squared and back straight. ‘ Equality is unattainable in the wizarding world. The Dark Lord provides opportunity, which is more than what the Order could say for itself. ’ Severus was a practical man and he took the practical path — in most things. It all fell through in the end for him but being a Death Eater was, and still is, the practical choice.

Severus watched Potter move like every shift pained him. He took mental notes of his observations. He was silent for a long moment after the question was posed, before he sat down on the armchair besides Potter, legs crossed at the knee, and set his bag of brews by his feet. ‘ The process will be a month long, at least, ’ he started. ‘ I’ll administer a potion and spell three times a week. 12 to 24 sessions in total — after that, everything that could be fixed has been fixed. ’ He tilted his head to the side slightly. ‘ Once we begin there can be no delays or breaks. This is a delicate process. The margin for error is very slim. ’

wrongdeor​:

Severus didn’t miss the near slip-up, but far from surprised he was bracing for it. He was ready for this to be the most unpleasant encounter Potter could make, and from experience that was a rather tall order but entirely achievable for the twat he knew — what was unexpected instead was the correction. Severus, graciously, pretended not to notice. ‘ Potter, ’ he said in a clipped tone. He nodded in return. 

He stepped inside, paused in the entrance hall and turned to look at his enemy patient. With a slanted brow, Severus said, ‘ Surprised? War makes for strange bedfellows, Potter. A halfblood with a muggle name would have more to lose and to gain in this war than a pureblood boy with a trust fund. And what I want hardly overlaps with what I need to do. ’ He jerked his chin towards the injured wrist. ‘ You need that hand to fight, and we need you on the field. Ergo, here I am. ’ He lifted a shoulder, the bag shifting with the movement, vials jostling beneath the fabric. He didn’t respond to whether or not he can cure him. That remained to be seen.

Severus looked at the wizard for a moment. Head tilted slightly to the side. ‘ And I never liked unequal fights, if you recall. ’ That was you, Potter. He nodded down the hall, towards what he believed was the living room. ‘ Lead the way. ’

.

The second Severus opened his mouth, James felt like breaking. That had happened a lot since he’d gotten out of the dungeons and Lily had left him. Little things would make him want to throw something or sob or a mixture of both - like seeing the mug she used to use in his cupboards or watching Garnet snub him as though the cat never even realized he’d been gone. Or, like the other day, when Remus had been visiting him at Mungo’s and said Lily’s name and James had told him to watch his damn mouth as though he’d been called something crude.

But all Severus needed to do was talk in that slow, annoying drawl of his and remind James of all the reasons Lily had broken up with him without even doing it on purpose. Or, knowing Snape, maybe it was on purpose and the wix was just so fucking smart that it hardly sounded that way. “Convenient timing to realize that about yourself,” James said with a new dullness to his voice that hadn’t been there before. His head suddenly felt stuffy like he was holding back tears, but he just ground down his back teeth until it went away. Maybe later he’d curl up with Sirius and let himself cry again, but there was no fucking way Severus Snape would see how much this - Lily, Severus, their friendship, everything - was affecting him.

“Voldemort promotes equality in your little circle of friends?” James quipped back with his eyebrows raised, a mean smirk on his face, using the name intentionally to try and get a rise. He turned and led the way to his living room where a plush maroon couch and two armchairs sat around a coffee table. There was a multi-patterned blanket on the back of one of the chairs. It felt warm in here, despite James’ lack of it.

He gingerly sat on the couch, perching himself forward because leaning back would’ve caused his joints to ache and pain to hiss from between his teeth. Gently, he lowered his wrist to rest against his knee. “So, what kind of process are we lookin’ at?” Severus could kill him, if he wanted to. It would be easy. James would do whatever he was told and, if he were about to be poisoned, he’d have no clue until it happened. 

JOHN MURPHY The 100 / Season Seven / Episode 13 / Blood Giant

my father had the kind of anger all fathers do. it lingers your whole life

the unabridged journals of sylvia plath // audre lorde // sense8 “i can’t leave her” // halsey, i would leave me if i could // @ijaazat // fantastic bastards, death spells // catherine lacey

Severus stayed in their little out of the way table for twenty minutes after Lily gathered her worry-fueled determination about her like the hems of a too long dress and set out anew to find Lupin. They didn’t envy the werewolf, who was unlikely to find anywhere clever enough to hide from Lily, but if he was going to indulge in self destruction then Lily was free to indulge in her excessive mothering. Severus kept an eye and an ear out, just to see how that went. Indulgent, themself, in their own hobby : people-watching. They liked to see how things went with people, once they picked up on a thread. 

Soon enough they were bored with their seat and changed vantage points, picking up their near-empty butterbeer and moving to the bar, where they could see the other side of the club more easily. It was the same glass they had all night. ( Severus didn’t get drunk in public — alone in their room? Very much. Too often. Especially while working on a difficult project. But not in public. That would be embarrassing — dangerous, too. But mostly embarrassing. ).

A glass of Whiskey slid down the bar towards them. ‘ How terrible of me to forget my manners, ’ Severus rolled their eyes, but picked up the offered drink. ‘ And with such respectable company at that. ’  The din of noise and chaos rose around them at just that moment before dying down quickly. This was more of a post-Quidditch House party than anything else. 

They’d meant to reach out to Longbottom — just to test the waters. Just to see in what direction her thoughts and inclinations leaned. It was interesting to see her reach out to Severus first, but not, from what they observed, completely unexpected. They looked at her, eyebrow raised, made a quick pass over the surface of her thoughts. Intentions rippled slowly from underneath. ‘ I’ll take the company and the drink, ’ they said with a nod, ‘ but keep in mind I’m not as easily entertained as Lupin. ’ 

Whiskey with Notes of Ulterior Motive

LOCATION: The Flaming Dragon DATE: June 12, 1984 @wrongdeor

Alice shook her stinging hand out, pleased and pleasantly tired in that slightly-battered way that followed a game of Quodcup, and leaned back against the bar to finish catching her breath. Not that she was some old-fart like Moody who needed to catch her breath after a rousing game or anything, of course not. But it was a nice excuse to relax and take a breath.

She took a sip of the rich Cinnamon Crackle Whiskey she’d ordered as a rich, mellow break from the brighter, more interesting drinks she’d been imbibing so far tonight, distractedly savoring the way the sparking crackles snapped against her lips before dissolving into the almost honey-like liquid that trickled down her throat like a balm.

Then she paused so abruptly that she almost choked, swallowed before she actually did choke, and beckoned urgently to the bartender for a second beverage. Waiting for its arrival was torture that had her bouncing on her stool. The glass had barely brushed her fingers when pushed off the bar with sudden, impatient purpose. The grin that had flickered across her face at the sight of her target flickered away again almost as quickly in favor of determination. The rest of the bar fell away (not completely; Alice wasn’t an idiot, which meant she knew that if she ever let herself close-focus so hard that she forgot to pay attention to the world around her in a place where Alastor Moody could see her, she would regret it) and she walked through the cluster of her allies on autopilot, heading for someone who had joined those ranks only a few months ago and whom Alice hadn’t made an effort to seek out more than in passing yet.

But that had been before she’d realized the true value Severus Snape brought to the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn’t what he knew about the Death Eaters, so much of which he couldn’t explicitly share with the rest of them – whether because of compulsion spells Voldemort placed on his followers or admonishments from Dumbledore not to spread his secrets too widely Alice neither knew nor cared. It was because he knew of what they knew: the Dark Magic they used to such devastating extent against the Order. And not just the sort of Dark Magic that one could learn from books, no. She had learned that Severus was one of those rare wix with the gift for true creativity.

Alice slid into the empty chair next to Severus and pushed the second glass of whiskey towards him with her fingertips like it was a sort of offering. “Bad form to drink alone at a party,” she said lightly. “So I brought you a drink and company with which to quaff it.” She offered a smile – warm, but thin; she didn’t want to come on too strong and put his hackles up. (Not that she was sure she’d ever seen him with his hackles down anywhere among the Order.) “You can decline either or both, of course,” she added in a dry deadpan, “but know that if you do so you’ll be shattering my heart irreparably.”

This is a list of curses Severus crafted for the Dark Lord during the last six years of their Death-Eatership. These spells are commonly used by Death Eaters, and experienced Order members came across them often in the last 6 years. There are no set counters for these curses yet – they’re mostly dealt with through a patchwork of obscure spells and potions that work as often as they don’t. There’s a rumor among Order members that Severus crafted spells for the DE, but it was neither confirmed nor denied.

Feel free to include these curses in threads,  plots, and backstory in whatever way you like! If you have any questions, let me know. (pls heed the warnings)

Battle spells:

Frigus —

Freezes the major blood vessels connected to the heart. Turns the blood to ice, spreads outwards. This spell is used in battle, and the victim of this curse loses consciousness immediately. If the counter is not cast shortly after the curse, or a healer had not found a way to keep the victim alive long enough for the ice to be melted, the victim will die.

The counter for this spell was crafted shortly after Severus Snape joined the Order of the phoenix.

Sectumsempra —

Always cuts. The wand movement is ambiguous – a quick and decisive slash, in any direction, upward or downward or sideways. The victim is cut in broad slashes, like a sword flying in broad arcs. If the wand is thrust forward instead as the spell is cast, then much like a sword the magic will stab through the victim from one side and come out the other. A clean cut.

Wounds from this curse can bleed for hours and hours, and are particularly resistant to common healing spells. The spell was created by Severus Snape during his sixth year at Hogwarts, and the healing spell was created some time after his graduation, but is still an almost total unknown.

Submerso —

Fills the victim’s lungs with water so they drown while standing in land. This spell is used in battle, and the victim will react much like a drowning person would. Except, unlike a drowning victim, the water can’t be coughed back up, and the common spells used to treat drowning victims in such an emergency only increase the amount of water and hurry the victim along towards their death.

There is no known counter for this curse. Healers have begun using bastardized cleaning spells to remove the excess water instead, but the victims are often left extremely dehydrated as a result, and the struggle is always getting there in time before it’s too late.

Putredine –

Purple flames wrap around the victim like thick ropes. They don’t burn. They weaken the flesh, poison the blood. Extremely painful upon impact. If left unhealed for long periods of time the flesh rots and must be amputated. There is no designated healing spell for this curse, and healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent.

Ave –

Spell leaves small but deep wounds in the victim, like holes. The number and depth of holes depends on wand movement and strength of the spell cast. The wounds are deeply reminiscent of bullet holes. 

Flamma pulmintra –

The precursor to Cinere, the ash spell. Turns the air in the victim’s lungs scorching hot, burns the victim inside out. There is no designated healing spell for this curse, and healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent. 

Naufragi tumet –

Attacks the nerves of the affected area of the body. The nerves swell and twist into new shapes. Extremely painful upon impact, and for a time afterwards the affected body part would be useless. Healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent. 

Lapise –

Turns the victim’s flesh to stone. Upon casting will transfigure the part of the body it hits to stone, and begin a very slow and gradual spread throughout the rest of the body. The speed and duration of the transfiguration depends on the caster’s skill. it can take anywhere from hours, to days, to weeks to spread out in a noticeable rate, by then the battle will have long been over. A skilled healer or wix knowledgeable in human transfiguration can slowly and painstakingly undo the effects of the spell, but the effectiveness of that process depends on the skills of said healer itself. The spell has no official counter, as it doesn’t officially exist in any text, and is only known and used by Death Eaters.

Pavor –

The victim is suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed by intense, all-consuming fear and panic. The effects of this spell last anywhere from minutes to hours, and the echoes of fear linger for long afterwards. Victims of this curse would do anything from freeze mid battle, drop their wand and curl up in a ball and rock back and forth, scream, weep, run and run and run amid spellfire with no direction or logic or thought. Nothing but fear. Nothing but panic. Very few people give this spell the weight it deserves – it has no permanent physical effects and as such, survivors of this curse are given a calming draught at most and dismissed as healthy afterwards without a second thought. 

Interrogation spells:

Flore —

Seeds twist into existence within every joint of the body. They grow, and bloom, and by the end of the spell flowers have pushed their way out of shoulders, elbows, and knees, in full bloom. The only thing that will stop the flowers’ progress is speech: talk, and the pain stops. Talk, and maybe they’ll finally kill you. Victims of this curse retain full awareness and mental clarity throughout this process. The pain settles without the haze to dull it.

If the spell is canceled before the flowers have pushed their way out, the victim may live. They may suffer permanent injuries, most notably in the knees, wrists, and elbows. The seeds will remain embedded in every joint.

Shortly after joining the order, Severus Snape crafted a healing spell that heals most of the wounds inflicted by the curse, depending on the severity, and a potion to dissolve the seeds and mend the joints back together. Full recovery is not guaranteed.

Dolor —

This spell is used for torture and for extracting information from victims. When cast, the lightest of touches upon the skin would cause the most excruciating pain. Running a feather down a victim’s arm would send them screaming and weeping themselves hoarse. A sharp gust of wind would cut like knives. The weight of their clothes, the press of their shoes, the texture of the earth against the soles of their feet. Everything will cause relentless waves of pain. Being under the effects of this spell for too long is known to send victims into shock, and in extreme cases, lose their minds.

Interrogations using this spell are usually conducted by two or more Death Eaters. One to cast the spell and keep it going, and the other to ask the questions and make sure they receive an answer. Victims of this spell are treated with the same remedies a victim of the cruciateus is. Non-Death Eaters who have seen or heard of this spell often refer to it as the other cruciateus.

That one mf-ing spell:

Cinere —

The victim turns to ash. First the skin, then the muscle, then the tissue, then the bones. It's a slow and meandering process, unsteady and certain only in it’s inevitability, picking up speed and intensity only to jolt to a near halt, then meander for a while longer as if to play some more. It may take, on average, from three to seven days to complete. The victim remains alive through the entirety of the process. There is yet no known counter for this curse. Once a victim has been hit, the only thing that can be done to stop the pain is a mercy kill.

This curse was created to send a message. Powerful enemies of the Dark Lord would die slowly and painfully in plain view of their loved ones, begging for death. This curse was not used frequently so as to not reduce its impact.