"I could not eat as much as I would like to vomit"

(Max Liebermann)

'So,' purred Macnair while examining Severus' body. 'I do have to admit that I am surprised. You managed to deceive the Dark Lord. What a genius you are, Severus. Don't we all agree that it would have been better if you had offered your gifts to the right side?'

Amycus Carrow and Matteo Crabbe nodded thoughtfully.

They blamed him for Voldemort's fall. Without doubt. Yesterday night, Crabbe had lost his son Vincent, Amycus his sister Alecto. Both would go to Azkaban very soon or spend the rest of their petty lives in hiding. Crabbe would not be able to manage this time to convince the ministry that he'd been under the Imperius Curse. Neither would Carrow. They weren't intelligent enough to come up with anything new. And Macnair... the Death Penalty would be waiting for the psychopathic sadist who only managed to ejaculate when he was allowed to torture and kill defenseless creatures.

Today, they needed someone they could hold responsible for their misery. A scapegoat. And they had it. After returning from the Shack, Severus hadn't managed to recreate the Security Charms, he had instead been busy treating the gaping wound on his neck and drinking Blood Replenishers.

It had been Granger who gave him an antidote and poured Dittany over his neck while he was dying. Then she cast a Stasis Charm and left. He woke several hours later, mildly hypothermic and stiff. How he'd managed to apparate to Spinner's End was a mystery to him. But he had.

Not much later, the visitors had arrived. Disarmed him while they were still under a Disillusionment Charm. How cowardly. Severus had defended himself, he had struggled like an animal that tried to escape its trap, but there was only so much he could do. Without a wand and against three Death Eaters with a wand.

At some point, Carrow used a spell on him that slowed down all of his movements. Severus had once invented it.

'Severus!', Crabbe flung his right wrist and landed it with an ugly noise on his cheek. The man had always been strong.

'You should have protected my son and not Potter. POTTER!' Another blow. Severus lost his balance and found himself on the floor. They would kill him. Not that he minded, but he would have preferred a fast death.

He was no idiot, he did not try and pretend that he didn't fear the next few hours.

They all wanted revenge. One last time.

'I want you to crawl on the floor and beg for death. We won't give up before.' Amycus' face was a grimace of hatred.

'Good luck,' answered Severus calmly, surprised that his voice sounded steady. That he could hear sarcasm and no fear.

There was a shower of uncountable blows and kicks. Severus protected his face instinctively. Not that it had been very sightly. To no avail. A rib cracked, a finger broke, a wrist.

The wound on his neck reopened. Nagini's poison was cursed, how stupid he had been not to apparate to a hospital.

The Death Eaters were lost in a state of inebriation that was familiar to Severus. They would only stop once the victim was broken, mutilated and dead.

Determined, he concentrated on not making a single noise. His teeth creaked under the pressure.

Crabbe grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up. 'You know Severus... you will get an entry in the Wizard's Book Of Records as the wizard who pegged out in the most miserable way imaginable.' Severus stared into watery eyes.

'At least I wasn't so idiotic as to perish in my own fiendfyre. Vincent obviously lacked the brain cells to remember the Counter...'

The blow was so violent that Severus saw blackness for several seconds. Pity. Not violent enough. He had hoped that the man would kill him with a single hit.

Amycus took his belt off, pointed his wand at Severus. His robe was pulled from his body, the shirt unbuttoned and flew to Crabbe. Who looked through the pockets.

'Awwwwwwwww,' rejoiced the heavy built man. 'Look at this. Not even the mudblood wanted to touch the Grease-Prince.'

Severus turned away when he heard them snicker and rip the picture apart.

'Twenty strokes,' announced Carrow ceremonially. 'Let's see if you'll be still on the ball.'

Severus tried to remember the last time he'd been on the ball. Long time ago.

They stared at his back. 'Ouch, someone has already done good work here. Were you not a good boy, Severus?'

The belt cut the air, then his back. His remaining teeth were pressed together.

'Two.'

No screaming. He wouldn't give them the pleasure. That seemed terribly important at the moment. Occlumency was obviously a gift from the past. Contrary to his bladder, his mind didn't want to empty.

He didn't count. Amycus left several strokes uncounted, too.

'Five.' Severus wondered, if they could see the bones on his back yet. There hadn't been much fat on his ribs. His appetite had bid farewell a long time a ago.

'Damnit,' spat Carrow and pointed his wand at the belt. Crabbe and Macnair jeered. Severus squinted at the buckle. It was razor sharp now.

'Scream!', demanded Macnair while he rubbed his privates.

'Never,' spat Severus and closed his eyes again.

Then Macnair jumped at him, turned him on his back, kicked his lower body with all his strength. Severus swallowed down an outcry that threatened to suffocate him. A puddle of hot blood and urine appeared under him and he fought hard to keep his face straight.

'Twenty.'

The belt had ripped apart his upper body. Severus must have been unconscious for quite a while.

'CRUCIO!', screeched Crabbe. Now he was awake again. His stomach rebelled but Severus didn't allow it to win. His eyes watered with the effort to suppress the gagging.

Only much much later would he remember the next minutes. They were filled with more blows, with insults so personal that his brain refused to hear them. His stomach finally gave in when he felt Macnair inside him, ripping him apart. The stinking breath, the whispering.

'Aguamenti!' Severus didn't react.

'He is dead! We gotta leave!'

He heard several curses that lit his house on fire. The last thing he saw was his Potions Cabinet and thousands of handwritten recipes and descriptions catching fire.