Title: A Passionate Hate
Author: HP Strangelove
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: SS/HP; SS/OMC implied, SS/LM implied, SS/OFC implied.
Other Main Character(s): DM
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No monetary profit made on this story.
Feedback: hp_reader@hotmail.com
Beta: Many thanks go to Rakina for betaing this for me and to my sister in providing invaluable feedback. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Challenge: Wave XII – What if…??? What if some event in the books went differently.
Summary: What if the Flight of the Prince happened differently; Snape didn't Disapparate alone. It wasn't Draco Malfoy that Disapparated with him – it was Harry Potter.
Warning: Non-con (don't read the story if this might bother you); slight BDSM; Harry is 16 (takes place mostly in June 1997). Implied het encounters but nothing explicitly described (I hate het but it was required for the story). Spoilers for all books, especially HBP.
A/N: I tried to keep to canon as much as possible and only change things to make the story work. I've only read the books through once, so I might be off on a detail here or there. After reading so much fanfiction, it's difficult to remember what is canon and what isn't. I did try and check facts as much as possible with HP-Lexicon, but still – if something is contradicting canon, I apologize for the oversight.
There are also two small passages taken from Chapters 28 and 30 of HBP, slightly amended to blend with the story.
Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm
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My Dear Prince,
Just a quick note to say thanks for being my ‘date' for the award ceremony – after all, it was our great teamwork that led us to first place! No one thought we could do it – well, we showed them! I guess Prof. S. really did know what he was doing when he paired us together, although I know we both had our doubts. It seems a miracle that we were able to go from your hating me and my hating you to being friends ‘with benefits' (you're smirking now, aren't you?). I just wish we could come out to everyone and tell them how we really feel about each other.
Did you ever think you would become lovers with a Mudblood? I have to say, it did hurt my feelings when you first called me that, but I understand now (I know you hate him, and rightly so, but you still might want to go and see him one last time, just to get some closure on your past – all right, all right – I'll leave it!)
I'm going to miss our talks when we're apart this summer. You know I'm not very good at writing, and with the way your family feels towards Muggles, visiting each other is certainly out – things would be so much worse for you if they found out you were more than friends with your Mudblood potions partner. I wish they wouldn't judge all of us Muggle-borns by the actions of your father (sorry – I didn't mean to bring him up again!). Maybe we could try and meet up in Diagon Alley when we go for our supplies, say the first week of August? Owl me and let me know when you'll be there.
Well if I don't see you until school starts, have a great summer – I'll be thinking of you and looking forward to Potions class again in the autumn.
Your ‘friend',
Ivan
p.s. and last night was fantastic – I love how soft and silky your hair feels when I run my fingers through it!
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“Hey Harry, you dropped something.”
They were in the library, finishing up their Potions essays and it was getting time to head back to the Common Room. Harry had just closed up Advanced Potion-Making and was placing it in his bag when Ron saw something fall out of the book.
Harry looked at Ron, who was pointing towards Harry's feet. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be a piece of parchment. When he picked it up, he saw that it was folded in half, then half again.
It must have been opened and closed many times – the paper was tearing along the creases made by the folding.
“What is it?” Hermione asked. “Did it fall out of that book ?” she questioned, putting emphasis on the last two words. “Don't touch it, Harry – it might be cursed!”
“Oh Hermione – you checked the book already and it was normal. If this paper was cursed, wouldn't that have shown up then?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she relented. “But still – you should be cautious handling it.”
Harry opened it slowly, not because he was worried about it being dangerous, but because it seemed so delicate that he didn't want to tear it any more than it already was.
“Well, what is it?” Ron asked as Harry perused it slowly. Finally, he looked up at Ron and said “It's a letter to the Prince, from a bloke named Ivan!”
“Really? You're jok ing – what's it say?”
“Here, see for yourself,” Harry whispered as he passed the note to Ron, looking around to be sure no one had overheard the little he'd said so far.
Hermione peered over Ron's shoulder and read silently along with him.
When he had finished, Ron smiled and handed the note back to Harry.
“So the Prince had himself a boyfriend!” Ron exclaimed.
“It seems so – he was into blokes then.”
“Or the Prince was not a ‘HE',” said Hermione. “Why can't you just accept the possibility that the Prince could be a girl!”
“Because he's not, Hermione. It's Prince, P-R-I-N-C-E, Prince. Princes are not GIRLS! – and anyway, I don't care what his preferences are. It doesn't change the fact that he's brilliant in Potions. Obviously, since he and this Ivan won some sort of contest.”
“So who do you think 'Prof. S' is?” Ron queried. “Snape's been teaching Potions for over sixteen years ‘til just this year. Do you think it was him?”
“Well it could be, but I'm not about to ask him about it. Professor Slughorn also used to teach potions back when my mother was here – it could be him too.
“I'll have a hard time asking him about the Prince though – he's been avoiding me because he knows I want to get his real memory of his talk on Horcruxes with Tom Riddle.”
“Yeah, getting that from him is probably more important than finding out about the Prince .” said Hermione, facetiously. “You know the way you're always defending him, Harry, it sounds like you have a crush on him, like he's a real person that exists here and now.”
Harry just glared at her. “He is a real person to me, and I owe him a lot, that's all. I've learned more from him than I ever did in class; and before you accuse me of cheating again, think about it – isn't that the whole point of school – to learn? What difference does it make how I get the knowledge, as long as I get it? Look, it's getting late…let's get going.”
Harry put the letter in his robe pocket. They finished packing up their books and left for the Common Room. Hermione and Ron continued to debate who 'Prof. S' might be as they walked out of the library; Harry didn't hear a word they were saying. Visions of his Prince kissing another boy dominated his thoughts…
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As the week went on, he couldn't get the letter out of his head. It gave him an uneasy feeling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it though. “…and last night was fantastic – I love how soft and silky your hair feels when I run my fingers through it.” He kept dwelling on that postscript and on exactly what it implied. He tried picturing what the Prince's hair looked like – light or dark? long or short? Was it hard to tame like his own, or was every strand perfectly placed like Malfoy's? He'd drift off to sleep at night, dreaming of laying naked in his bed, the body of another boy leaning over him…he couldn't see the other boy's face – only the boy's hair as Harry reached up to run his fingers through the soft, silky, black strands…
After a week of restless nights, he realized why he was so bothered by that letter – he was jealous, jealous of Ivan's getting to touch the real Prince when all he had was his dreams. The dreams were showing him that Hermione had been right – he wanted the Prince. A boy who was knowledgeable enough to teach Harry Potions had to be able to teach him other things as well – Ivan's letter was proof of that.
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“You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so… no !”
Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.
“Kill me then,” panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. “Kill me like you killed him, you coward – ”
“DON'T – ” screamed Snape, “CALL ME COWARD!”
And he slashed at the air: Harry felt a white-hot, whiplike something hit him across the face and was slammed backward into the ground. Spots of light burst in front of his eyes and for a moment all the breath seemed to have gone from his body. As Harry raised himself into a sitting position, his head swimming, he saw Snape running as hard as he could. He patted around the ground for his wand, but he couldn't find it anywhere. He knew if he took any more time looking for it, Snape would get away.
And he couldn't let him get away! He just couldn't. They'd never find him if he got through those gates and Disapparated. That one thought drove him, pushed him up and moved him on, forward, stumbling in the darkness. Snape must not have thought Harry was a threat any longer since he'd disarmed him and knocked him flat. He didn't notice Harry coming after him again. Because of the noise of the explosions and everyone screaming, Snape wasn't aware of Harry until he was almost on him.
“POTTER” Snape yelled, and pushed his arm out to keep Harry off. Making one last, great effort, Harry leaped at him, knocking him to the ground. But it was too late – Snape was already Disapparating – but, Harry felt it – that familiar squeezing sensation, taking his breath away! He had grabbed hold of Snape's arm – and Disapparated with him.
In an instant Harry was able to catch his breath as they tumbled out of the Apparition together. Harry was still on top of him, in the same position they were in as when they'd started Disapparating.
“Potter!” Only this time it wasn't Snape that screamed it. Harry looked up and directly at the tip of a wand – a wand being held by Draco Malfoy. Draco's look of shock and disbelief would have been comical except for his next word – “Stupefy!” Harry barely had a chance to think, “Damn…not again…” before everything went dark.
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Sometimes the best place to hide something is out in plain sight. And although Severus' house in Spinner's End was not well known, enough people knew about it to make it unsafe. But the nearby abandoned mill – that was another story.
Snape didn't know exactly when it had stopped being used – that had happened some time before he was born. He never gave it much thought actually. What he did give thought to was all the great hiding places there were inside to explore and escape to when Tobias, also known as his father, went into one of his rages. His mother always managed to distract Tobias so that Severus could sneak away and hide at the Mill. It was far enough away from the house that Tobias never considered it somewhere he might run to.
The first time he escaped Tobias' wrath, he was six. Up until then, he'd been too small to get away. Usually he was just slapped around; other times Tobias used a belt, a thick strap of leather he always wore looped through his trousers. Severus could take it though. He was a strong little boy. Over time, he even came to enjoy looking at and touching the marks left on his body. When they were new, they would be various shades of pink and red; the pink usually came from a slap, the red came from the belt. The pinks were O.K., but the red ones were his favorite. They lasted longer and changed colors better than the pink ones did. The first color change would be to a pale, bluish gray. After a few days, the gray would stay but the blue would disappear, replaced by a darkish yellow. The ugliest colors, browns and blacks, would appear right before the mark was getting ready to die off. He thought it strange that when the marks looked their ugliest, they didn't really hurt anymore.
They always hurt the worst when they were new. That was when they were most useful though. He'd test himself by pressing on them as hard as he could, willing himself to take more and more of the pain. He'd press until tears would form, but he refused to cry. He was a strong little boy. He learned to take the pain and enjoy it.
But he never stopped fighting to get away, and finally one time he was too fast for Tobias and managed to avoid his grasp. When his mother blocked Tobias' path, Severus was out the back door and down to the riverbank as quick as his skinny legs could move him. He ran and ran, never looking back, until a stitch in his side had him falling to his knees, sucking in air. He thought for sure Tobias would be there behind him, belt in hand, but when he looked around, he was all alone. He hadn't been planning on running to the m ill, but that's where he ended up.
To others, the mill loomed tall into the sky, dark and foreboding. To six year old Severus, it was really a magical castle, disguised as the broken-down mill. It was beautiful to him, and he imagined that he was a kidnapped prince returning home to claim his inheritance!
And he knew he really was a prince, a magical prince. His mother had once told him so. He had asked her why his father hurt him. She said it was because his father was afraid of him, that Severus was from a long line of princes who could do magic, and his father was afraid of magic.
Severus considered the castle his real home, the one place, at least until he went to Hogwarts, where he felt safe. Over the years, he added to his Sanctuary Room, as he called it. It wasn't a large room, but it was on the second floor and overlooked the main mill space. It might have been where a supervisor secretly watched over the workers – Severus didn't know – but it was perfect for hiding out. If anyone trespassed into his domain, he could see them well before they'd ever find the door that opened to the stairwell. It would take magic to open the door as an advanced locking charm was one of the easier charms he'd taught himself before he entered Hogwarts.
Hogwarts – his second safe refuge. The happiest day of his life, the day he received his letter, quickly turned into the worst. He should have known to be quiet about it, but he was so excited when the owl arrived, he ran calling out to his mother to tell her he'd been accepted. Just as he handed her the letter, Tobias appeared in the doorway, a murderous look on his face.
Everything happened so fast that even today he still didn't remember it all.
Blood streaming down his face from his broken nose…his arm twisting crazily and making a sickening crack as his father swung him against the wall…sharp, piercing pain as heavy boots kicked ribs…the belt being removed from trousers…
But the worst thing he remembered was the sound of his mother screaming and the sight of her crashing into the wall mirror, glass shards flying as she slid to the floor unconscious.
His mother had been teaching him spells that he could use to defend himself against ‘neighborhood' bullies. The thing was, the biggest bully was really Tobias. His mother would never speak against his father that way, but Severus knew. Back when he was growing up, underage magic wasn't monitored the way it has been since the first fall of the Dark Lord – those laws were only put into affect because the Ministry was afraid that the Death Eaters were recruiting children and training them in the Dark Arts. After all, who would suspect an innocent child of being able to perform Dark curses or Unforgivables?
Certainly not Tobias – so when Severus saw his mother fall, a white-hot flash of anger rose up through his pain and out as the desire to hurt, to cut, and to make Tobias bleed the way his mother was, there on the floor among the broken pieces of mirror.
His memory turned hazy after that. He knows he was the one who did it though. It had to have been him because he knows his mother was unconscious. They were never able to remove all the pieces of mirror embedded in Tobias' face, arms, back, and chest. They could get the larger ones out, but they were too many and too small to get them all, and Tobias refused to let anyone use magic on him. He would always be blind in the left eye, and only regained partial sight in the right.
He never saw Tobias again after that day. The Muggle authorities put Tobias in jail for a while, but once Tobias was freed he didn't try and come back. His mother wasn't hurt all that badly – physically – but emotionally she'd always be damaged by the thought that she had almost let her son be killed.
It was the summer between fifth and sixth year that she died unexpectedly. Severus was going through her things and found a journal. It revealed how she'd promised, as part of her wedding vows, to never use magic against her husband unless it was in self-defense. It was an archaic ritual, never used anymore in modern times, and once invoked could not be rescinded. But she was inventive. She'd found a way to void it; that was why Tobias never came back. She could no longer stand by and watch her son be hurt. It was all there in the journal, along with other original spells she had created. Some were brilliant; Severus always wondered what she could have done with her magic if she hadn't married Tobias.
So she became his inspiration – he would become a Master of the Dark Arts like she had been and do his best to create spells as imaginative as hers. And he would never give his love to another. It was too dangerous and painful an emotion to allow into his life. He saw what love did to his mother. He would not allow that to happen to him. Hate was better; it would keep people from getting too close. His hate would protect him; his hate would keep him safe.
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When Albus first brought up his plan to Severus, the mill was the best option as far as safe places to hide out in. It had been when he was six, and thirty-some years later it would be again. If Draco could be convinced into faking his death and letting the Order hide him and his mother, Severus' job would be easy. Harry would witness Severus' murder of Dumbledore; Severus would hide out at the mill, then rejoin the Dark Lord, his role as loyal servant secure.
But if Draco couldn't be turned to the right side, the backup plan was to get him to Apparate to the mill. Severus would have damage control to do – he could not let Draco return to the Dark Lord; they were sure Draco would not be able to fulfill his mission and would pay for his failure with his life. So Draco would not suspect Severus of being a spy, he would use the Unbreakable Vow as the reason ‘…to the best of your ability, protect him from harm…' for hiding him out. He would not allow the Dark Lord to kill Draco merely to get his revenge on Lucius.
And that is how they ended up here, in Severus' Sanctuary Room – except they weren't supposed to have Harry along!
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It had been such a surreal day! The adrenaline now leaving his system left him exhausted. He could easily fall asleep like this; the chair was so comfortable.
Head back…
Eyes closed…
Thoughts drifting…
But he couldn't fall asleep just yet. There were things he had to discuss with Severus first, many unanswered questions that had to be addressed when Severus came back into the room.
Like – what the heck was Potter doing here? He was pretty sure that was not supposed to have happened like that, especially seeing the way he and Severus came out of the Apparition together, tumbling onto the floor. He was so shocked at the sight, that his only thought was to Stupefy Potter and ask questions later. It seemed like that was the right thing to do though. Severus had pushed Potter's lifeless body off of him, stood up, walked over to the cabinet along the wall and poured himself a Firewhisky. He drank it down in one swig, then leaned his head against the cabinet door with his eyes closed. He stayed that way for only a few seconds, but it seemed like forever – it was just weird , seeing Severus like that. He seemed to remember that Draco was in the room too, got a second glass out of the cabinet, poured another drink and gave it to Draco. He then walked over to an unconscious Potter, picked him up, and carried him off to the side room. All this was done without a word being spoken between them.
So here he sat, in what felt like the most comfortable chair in the world, fighting sleep and waiting for Severus to tell him what they were going to do next.
If Potter had grabbed onto Severus as Severus began Disapparating, he was pretty lucky to be alive. Given that they all had explicit instructions from the Dark Lord to not harm Potter, it was a safe bet that if Potter had been splinched to death in the Apparition, Severus would have a very short future. It was probably due to the fact that Potter was raised by Muggles that he didn't know about the dangers of doing something like that. If the Apparating Wizard wasn't expecting it, there wouldn't be enough time to pull the extra power needed to Apparate a second person, and that second person usually ended up with parts scattered all along the Apparition route. It was to Severus' credit as a powerful wizard that he was able to successfully bring Potter with him.
Was he ever going to come out of that room? What was he doing in there with Potter? Potter hadn't been stunned that badly; at least he didn't think so. Well too bad if he had! Potter deserved whatever he got, and more. God, how he hated Potter!
But…did he though, still? After everything that happened, did hating Potter really matter anymore? He laid his head back again against the chair…he was so tired of it all. Hating Potter just didn't give him the sense of purpose that it used to. He had other things to think about now.
As much as he'd been fighting it, Draco drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a small hand being taken…
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Idiot boy! How could I have anticipated his doing something so reckless? Didn't he know how dangerous it could be to grab onto a Disapparating Wizard? What if I hadn't held up my hand and touched him just when I did? What if I'd been Disapparating directly into the Dark Lord's fortress! Albus should have told him everything as soon as I found out about it – if he knew what the Dark Lord planned to do with him, he might think twice before going it alone to fight Death Eaters!
What do I do with him now? This is not what we had planned!
It's not like he'd be able to keep it a secret from the Dark Lord that he had Harry Potter in his possession! How was he going to explain not turning him over? How was he going to get him safely out of here without casting suspicion back on himself? All his and Albus' hard work in setting Harry up as a witness to ‘the murder' was now jeopardized because Harry just would not stop his pursuit! Albus always said Harry's power was his ability to love.
Well, if his power is his ability to love, then his weakness is his ability to hate.
He was deceptively light – Severus hadn't expected to be able to pick him up so easily. He was going to have to restrain the boy somehow – the last thing he needed was an angry, revenge-seeking Harry on his hands.
He laid Harry down on the bed in the far corner. It was supposed to be where Draco slept, but this one had a metal headboard that he'd be able to tie Harry's wrists to. He pulled Harry's left arm up over his head, positioning his wrist against the metal pole of the headboard and with a bang, cords appeared from Severus' wand and wound around the pole and the wrist. He did the same with Harry's right wrist, then propped a pillow under his head, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances.
He looked a mess, dirt and dried blood smearing his cheek where Severus' curse had cut across his face. Severus went to the bathroom to get a wet flannel to clean the wound. Once Harry woke, Draco could heal it…Severus didn't want to come across as too caring if he was to do it himself. The wound wasn't deep – after all, he was only trying to disable Harry, not kill him – but it was going to leave a slight scar.
Looking down at Harry…hands tied the way they were…he was reminded of an earlier time…of another person, laying on a bed…similar in so many, many ways…
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He had no use for girls. He'd always disliked them – they were mean, petty, and vindictive. They never seemed to pass up a chance to be cruel, especially to each other if there was a boy involved. Thankfully, they seemed to be wary of him, probably due to his reputation for knowing the Dark Arts. But this one was different. She had a toughness about her – a ‘don't mess with me' attitude that seemed to earn the girls' respect and the boys' lust.
She was the top student in Potions; he was always a point behind her. She was Gryffindor; he was Slytherin.
They hated each other.
It was a Saturday, and a Hogsmeade Day, but here they were in the Lab. They had been at it for over thirteen hours. They were close, but just couldn't get the final mix of ingredients quite right. They were tired but neither one of them wanted to be the one to give in to defeat for the day. Professor Slughorn had called it a night, but gave them permission to stay and continue working as long as they felt up to it. After all, they were his best shot at winning the coveted Grand Prize in the International Potions Competition, along with all the prestige that went with it. No one would think of him as an ordinary Professor anymore. He would have offers to work at some of the most elite research centers in the world.
The whole school knew about their entry in the contest and the late hours they were putting in on it; it wasn't unusual for them to spend an entire night on experimental brewing. And everyone knew how much they really hated each other, so no one would ever think there was more going on than just schoolwork. And until that night, everyone would have been right.
Severus didn't remember what started the argument – he wanted to try adding one ingredient and she wanted to try another. Soon there was shouting, then wands drawn, hexes flying (thank goodness, he thought, the silencing charm put on the room to dampen any sounds of exploding potions was also strong enough to mask the sounds of their duel!). At one point they got a clear shot at each other, yelling “Expelliarmus!” at the same time. Their wands went flying to the far wall; Severus was closer but she was quicker. Just as he was about to grab his wand, she tackled him from behind. They rolled over twice, but he ended up on top, pinning her arms to the side of her head. They were both staring at each other, panting from the exertion of the fight.
She was always good at Occlumency, never letting her guard down, especially around him. He knew she was hiding something; try as he might, though, he could never break through. But this time, as he looked into her eyes, she allowed the shield to melt away. The room shimmered; he was in her mind, seeing what she'd been so carefully keeping from him for months now. Laying there, naked, tied spread out on the bed…Severus laying over her, hand entwined in her hair, holding her head back, kissing and marking his way down her exposed neck…
And then he was out, staring down at her again, not believing what he'd just seen. What she let him see. She wanted –
Him.
Their entry was finished three weeks later, but they conveniently neglected to tell Professor Slughorn. They spent another four months experimenting in the Potions Lab. She amazed him with the things she wanted to try. She was as comfortable being submissive as she was in taking control. Nothing was out of bounds – Lucius was the only other one of his lovers to have tastes as exotic and sensual as hers. She was truly a remarkable girl – the only female he'd ever taken an interest in.
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Now here, today, Severus was seeing her all over again. He knew as soon as the boy walked into the Great Hall that he was her son. Yes, everyone said the resemblance to James was uncanny, but it was his eyes – her eyes – that made Harry stand out. He actually had free reign to abuse the boy. Albus said the cruelty was necessary, that no one could suspect his true allegiance. Albus had never been convinced that the Dark Lord was destroyed – only gone into hiding, healing his wounds and biding his time. Although Severus' status as and reason for being a spy was revealed at the time of the Death Eater trials, it was always in a manner that would leave people with their doubts. As it turned out, Albus was right. The Dark Lord never really did die. By mistreating Harry, Severus was able to convince the Dark Lord he was still his loyal servant. If it hadn't been for those eyes, Severus actually might have enjoyed taking his revenge out on James Potter's son in the way he did for those six years.
He looks so peaceful. Lost in unconsciousness, oblivious to the happenings of the past few hours. It would be so easy – now that I have him here, utterly at my mercy – to make every one of my fantasies come true…to touch him, to possess him, to taste his sweet mouth, to have him writhing under me, to hear him cry out my name as I bury myself inside him – to finally and forever give in to the burning lust that she first sparked and that he's enflamed – to make him my very own.
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It was so comfortable, lying here – soft and warm and relaxing. Turning his head to the side, he could smell the light scent of vanilla and cinnamon. His eyes were still closed, but he was slowly floating back up, rising out of that blissful ignorance that came with sleep. He really didn't want to leave this peaceful place, but it seemed he had no choice.
Suddenly, as the memories of the waking world slammed into him, disbelief flooded his senses. It seemed impossible. It couldn't really have happened. But the images played across his mind, so real that he felt he was living it all over again.
He felt an emptiness begin to develop in the pit of his stomach, his breathing became rapid and shallow, his heart started beating faster, rising panic began to overtake him – as he remembered:
Death Eaters….In Hogwarts
Malfoy…His wand pointed at Dumbledore
Can't move…Can't help
Malfoy – lowering his wand
But then –
Snape!
Avada Kedavra!
No No NO…He can't be – he can't be dead. It's just a dream. It didn't really happen. Oh, God, please – it didn't really happen.
Breathe …
In…
Out…
Breathe…
Deep…
Slow…
Breathe…
In…
Out…
Breathe…
The wave of panic was gone, but left behind was a feeling of deep despair, a painful awareness that once again, someone he loved had died, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it.
His eyes began to fill with tears at the thought, but as he tried to wipe them away, he found he couldn't move his arms. As he shifted his head a little and looked towards his hands, he could make out something thick and black, tied around his wrists, then around the metal poles making up the pattern of the headboard.
Damn!
Damn, damn, damn! He remembered it all now, the rest of what happened, after he could move again, after Dumbledore and the Tower, after Snape.
Snape! He'd been chasing Snape – they'd been dueling – he tried Levicorpus, he tried Sectumsempra – Snape blocked all of them! Then, Harry was totally disarmed by what Snape did next – but it wasn't a curse or hex he threw at Harry – it was words:
“You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince!”
Harry was stunned …He had to be lying! There was NO WAY Snape was his beautiful Prince! The only thought raging through his mind was capturing Snape.
And now he was the one captured.
Damn!
He tried pulling at his wrists again, twisting them around within the ropes, but he seemed securely bound.
“They're magical cords, Potter – you can't break them and you'll only hurt yourself if you try”.
The voice startled him, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would jump out of his chest. He couldn't stifle the small gasp he made as he sucked in his breath – it was dark in the room, so he hadn't known someone else was in there with him. But he knew that voice…
“Malfoy!”
“Lum os”
The glow from the end of Draco's wand cast an errie light on both of them – Draco standing at the end of the bed, Harry lying on it, trapped, unable to move, unable to defend himself, arms tied above his head; they just stared, each daring the other to be the first to break the silence.
Harry remembered a similar time to this, where he'd been powerless in Draco's presence. That had resulted in a broken nose and his almost return trip on the Hogwarts Express to London. So much had happened since that day – everything he had suspected about Draco had been true. Now here he was again, wondering what Draco was going to do.
“So what body part do you plan on breaking this time, Malfoy? You've already got the nose, so I suppose you won't feel the need to do that again. Snape got my face, so not there…how about a rib or two – they seem pretty exposed, don't you think? Or are you going to try the Cruciatus again? Or just go straight to Avada Kedavra – that should put you at the top of Voldemort's ‘most favorite Death Eaters list' I would expect. ”
Draco still didn't say anything through Harry's tirade – only a slight wince at the use of the name ‘Voldemort'. No, he just kept staring at Harry, eyes emotionless and unreadable. At least if there had been hatred there, Harry would have known how to deal with it – but this – this emptiness – was scarier than if the expected hate had been present. Draco slowly moved around the side of the bed and sat down next to Harry, never breaking eye contact. He held his wand in his right hand with the tip against his chin as if in deep thought. Slowly, he extended the wand towards Harry's face. “Scared, Potter?” he asked contemptuously.
Harry caved in first, closing his eyes tight, waiting for the pain to hit from whatever curse Draco chose to use. Oh God , Harry prayed, please, please don't let it be Crucio … He held his breath…
Harry flinched at the touch of the wand on his cheek. But when only a slight stinging pain followed, he slowly opened his eyes and stared up at Draco. Draco moved the wand along the slash mark Snape's curse had made, his murmurings having a familiar, melodious tone to them. Harry expected the worst – what was he doing? Making the wound deeper? Making it bleed more? Was this Draco's revenge for Sectumsempra? Sectumsempra – Snape's healing spell!
The touch made the slash tingle as the wand followed its path, but as soon as it was finished and Draco pulled away, the pain was completely gone. “There isn't any dittany here, so there will probably be a small scar, but it shouldn't be too bad.”
Harry's eyes widened at the realization of what Draco had just done – all he could think of to say was “Why?”
He finally saw an emotion flit through Draco's eyes, but then it was gone – he wasn't even sure it had been there at all. It seemed like…sadness. Draco appeared as if he wasn't going to answer – was he going to stare at him all night? But then he began, in a calm, almost conversational tone, as if two old friends who hadn't seen each other in a while were catching up on the news in their lives.
“I've hated you, Potter, more than anyone else I've ever known. From that very first day in Madam Malkin's, I could never do or say the right thing. I'm a Malfoy, a pureblood, and I was raised to be proud of the name and who I am. How did you expect me to react when Weasley made fun of me – to just stand there and take it? But I was the one you rejected when I tried to be friends because I defended myself against your precious Weasley.
“You act as if you're so perfect, but you're as prejudiced against Slytherins as the Dark Lord is against anyone who isn't pureblood. I know what they say about us – all the Death Eaters came from Slytherin House, the Dark Lord was from Slytherin House, all the Slytherins are Death Eaters in training – I bet you even think I've already taken the Mark, don't you?” He said this last as he held up his left arm, pushing his sleeve back – nothing but smooth, white skin showed.
Harry flushed slightly at the truth of Draco's words. Draco just smirked at the confirmation of what he'd said.
“I still don't understand – if you hate me that much…?”
“The day on the train, when I found you spying on me, I was so angry with you. My father sent to Azkaban, my life and my mother's threatened if I didn't…” and here he paused a second but continued “…if I didn't successfully complete the task the Dark Lord had given me, an impossible task that I knew would get me killed – all because of you. So once, just once, I wanted to beat you at something, I wanted to be the one to win. So what if I had to petrify you first! I'm a Slytherin – we don't fight fair. I won and I won big time – it felt so good, to make you hurt, to make you bleed. You were on that train, heading back to London, finally gone out of my life like you had never existed. But like a cat with nine lives, there you were right back, marching into the Great Hall with Snape – once again, the winner.
“That day in the bathroom when you walked in on me crying…was my ultimate humiliation at your hands – seeing me crying to a damn ghost because I was so pathetic, so friendless, that I had no one else to turn to! And there you were, witness to all of it, AGAIN! Reminding me of all my failures, of the hopelessness of my situation. I wanted you to be the one crying in front of me , begging me to stop your pain. I hated you so much at that moment; I think I could have held you under Crucio until you went insane from the pain! I almost got it out too. But you surprised me – who would have thought perfect Potter would have known such a Dark curse as that?”
Draco paused for a minute, then sighed heavily before continuing, almost in a whisper, so soft that Harry could barely hear him.
“I failed my task; I know I'm going to die now. I've been sitting here, thinking about it for the past hour or so. At first, when you appeared with Severus like that, all the old feelings were still there. But then I realized – why keep hating you? What does it really matter anymore? Everything seems so unimportant now that I know my life is over. I'm just trying to make some peace with my past, all the things I've done that I wish I hadn't, and all the things I'll never get a chance to do. It's a lot to try and consider in just a few hours. I don't have the time or energy anymore for the hate. I didn't know how much work it was hating someone until I decided to spend my energy another way.”
Harry just stared at him, not knowing what to say now. He was still processing everything when Draco suddenly stood up, leaned over him and kissed him lightly on the forehead.
“Do you ever wonder how different things might have been for everyone if you would have just taken my hand that day?”
He turned around and began heading towards the door.
“Malfoy, wait!” Harry called. Draco stopped but didn't turn around. “I didn't know. I….I didn't know that curse would do that to you. I found the name written in a book, and it said it was for enemies. When you starting casting Crucio, it's all I could think of to use. I never meant to hurt you like that. Please…” Harry sighed, “I am sorry for that….I just wanted you to know.”
Draco didn't say anything. He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
***************************
The sofa was actually very comfortable to sleep on. He had sent Draco into the side room to sleep. He really needed some time alone to come up with a new plan. He had told Draco to let him know as soon as Harry woke up. He hadn't planned on dozing off, so startled at the sounds – a cabinet door opening, the clink of glass against glass. “Draco?” he called.
A few seconds later, Draco appeared before him holding a bottle in his hand. “He's awake. I just thought I'd get him something to drink.”
“Probably a good idea – don't want him dying on us before I can get him to the Dark Lord.”
Draco's face seemed to drop a little; Severus was surprised that his words would upset Draco – his hatred of Harry was as legendary as Severus' was for James, but then he thought it might be because Draco was worrying about his own fate.
“Draco, look at me. You don't have to worry about going with me. In fact, I don't want you to come.” Draco looked surprised at that. “You know what the consequences for your lack of success will probably be.” Draco paled – even accepting that he would die, it was still difficult hearing someone else say it aloud.
“I made an Unbreakable Vow to your mother to do everything in my power to protect you – breaking that vow means my own death. Taking you back to the Dark Lord would certainly break my vow, and I have no intentions of dying immediately after such a successful mission. The Dark Lord wasn't expecting Potter in the bargain, but I have no doubts I'll be greatly rewarded when I bring him in. I believe all thoughts of your failure will be completely forgotten once the Dark Lord has Potter to play with instead.”
Draco felt somewhat relieved at this revelation; on the other hand, he felt guilty knowing his salvation would be at the expense of Potter's life. For years, he had dreamed of the day that Potter would finally get what was coming to him, especially for his part in his father's going to Azkaban. He loved his father and missed him dearly; but after his own dealings with the Dark Lord, he had to wonder about his father's reasons for following the psychopath. Now, Draco had witnessed death first hand, and it wasn't as satisfying as he thought it would be. Dumbledore certainly hadn't been a favorite of his – he hated how the old wizard had constantly favored the Gryffindors, and he'd never forget how, in his first year, Slytherin lost the House Cup because of Dumbledore's manipulation of points…but was that really enough reason for him to die? Even knowing what Draco had done, that Draco wanted to kill him, the man had still offered his help.
“How much longer are we going to stay here?” Draco asked.
“I've got enough supplies here for at least a week. I think you should stay here for now. No one knows about this place so you're safe. I'll be leaving with Potter right after dawn . Once he's…situated…with the Dark Lord, I'll come back and we'll see about moving you somewhere into Muggle London temporarily. I know of several places where no one asks questions and it should be easy for you to just disappear.”
“All right then – do you still want me watching him?”
“For now – I'll be in to see him in a little while…I need to wake up first.”
“If he asks…if he asks what's going to happen…” Draco trailed off.
Severus just smirked “You can tell him the truth – he knows he's going to the Dark Lord. He's not that stupid.”
Draco nodded, then returned to the side room with Harry's drink.
Severus sat up and rubbed the sleep from his face. Even though he hadn't slept long, physically he felt pretty well rested. Emotionally – well there'd be time for that later. His new plans were already put into motion – that had gone easier than he'd thought it would. But it would be dawn soon.
All our plans! God, Albus, my heart is breaking over what you made me do tonight – no, I know, what you ‘convinced me' needed to be done. I chose to do it, and I'll hate myself forever for doing it and I'll hate you even longer for forcing me to make the choice. Did you really think it would make it easier on me to know you were already dying?
And now Harry's gone and screwed up everything by his dogged determination to bring me down. I did my best to discourage him. I thought by announcing to him that I was his precious Half-Blood Prince, he would be shocked enough to stop the chase. But his emotions took over and any sensible thoughts he might have had were extinguished by his desire to capture me. Will he ever learn?'
It was easy enough to deflect Harry's curses. He barely had the first syllable out and Severus already knew what he was going to cast. It was definitely a wise decision not to disclose to Harry the proof that he was truly a spy for the Order. Severus played his part well. Harry certainly hated and despised him with a passion, now even more so since he'd gone and killed the one man Harry had looked up to and had considered a father these past few years.
Those damn eyes – every time he looked into Harry's face, he saw her in those eyes. She was the only one to get to him, to wear him down, breaking through his defenses by letting down her own. Who would have ever thought their passionate hatred for each other was only a mask for their desire and lust. Was the same true for Harry and him?
I want him, and I'm tired waiting. He needs to know what the Dark Lord has planned for him; at the same time, I can stop denying myself the pleasure I know he can give me.
I think it's time to go and check on you, Harry.
***************************
Harry knew, now, what a stupid thing he'd done by chasing after Snape like that – at the time he hadn't cared if Snape killed him. He'd just wanted to stop Snape from escaping, get him to admit that he'd been lying about being the Prince. Now that he found himself wondering how long it would be until he was turned over to Voldemort – well, he wasn't so casual about dying anymore. It would certainly disappoint Dumbledore if he knew Harry had gotten himself into this situation. Hermione and Ron were probably sick with worry too. People cared for him; people needed him – only he could fulfill the Prophecy and destroy Voldemort. He shouldn't have treated his life so casually.
Somehow, he had to escape, and the only way out that he could think of was with Draco's help.
“Here, I brought you some pumpkin j uice.”
Draco walked back in the room and sat next to Harry again. He tipped the bottle of juice forward as Harry leaned up. It was awkward and a little spilled, but Harry didn't care – he was parched and it tasted heavenly! He quickly finished it all. As Draco set the empty bottle on the floor, Harry finally asked the question he'd been avoiding since he woke up.
“Where's Snape?”
“He's in the other room resting – it's been a hell of a night, for everyone.”
“Malfoy…” Harry wasn't sure how to broach the subject – it hurt so much to think about it. The wound was so new, still raw – but he was desperate. He had to do something to talk Draco into letting him go. He didn't know how he was going to get past Snape yet – maybe Draco would have an idea…
“Malfoy,” he tried again, taking a deep breath, “I was there.”
Draco's eyes narrowed and the expression on his face suddenly changed from one of defeat to one of defensiveness.
“What do you mean, you were there?” he asked sharply.
“You saw it – the second broom. It was mine. I was with Dumbledore tonight. We were out…well, we had something to do tonight and when we returned, we saw the Dark Mark above the Tower. I was under my invisibility cloak and he petrified me or something. I couldn't move to help him, but I saw everything….everything, Malfoy…” Harry had to stop as his voice broke – he would not cry in front of Draco.
Draco's eyes widened as the implications of Harry's words sank in. Seeing this as a positive sign, Harry swallowed and plowed on.
“I know what your mission was – but you couldn't do it – you couldn't kill him. I saw you start to lower your wand – I can help you. I can testify that it was Snape and not you that cast the Killing Curse. I can get the Order to hide you and your mother, just like Dumbledore offered you.
“But I can't do anything for you once Snape turns me over to Voldemort – I don't know how much time I have. Please Malfoy, you're the only one who can help me. You're the only one who can help yourself .”
Draco was afraid to believe him, to hope – but if it was all true…there was a chance, a small one but still, a chance that he – that they – could come out of this mess alive…
***************************
The timing was perfect – he heard them talking. He was pretty sure Harry was trying to convince Draco to help him escape. Draco was wavering, and he thought Draco might give in.
They both jumped at his sudden entrance in the room; Draco looked away from him, guilt quickly hidden by a sneer.
“Time to play?” Draco asked.
“Draco, leave us for now. I have some things to…discuss…with Potter.”
Draco glanced warily back at Harry, then over at Severus and left.
Severus waited until Draco closed the door before he began, his tone disdainful.
“So, Potter – tell me. What did you think you were doing by pulling your little stunt tonight? You didn't really believe you were going to win against me, did you?”
Harry knew he was being baited. He would not give in to Snape. He needed to be in control of himself; he needed to be able to think clearly. He had to be ready for any opportunity that he might have to escape, and if he gave into the anger and hate he was feeling, it would only give Snape a reason to strike back – and Harry knew that was exactly what Snape was hoping for.
“As usual, Potter, always acting before thinking. You've been a thorn in my side for six years now – disrespectful of my authority, breaking school rules, always with Dumbledore covering for you.” Harry's hate was rising to the surface – how dare he even speak of Dumbledore after what he had done tonight! Snape purred on, leering at Harry as he continued. “Stealing from my Potions supplies should have been enough to have you expelled immediately – but not the Savior of the Wizarding World – we couldn't have that now, could we? And here you are. Doesn't look like you'll be doing much saving anytime soon. In fact, it looks like you're the one that needs to be saved.” Snape's lips turned upward into a grin that was feral. His eyes slowly moved over Harry's prone body, as if he could undress Harry just by looking at him. Harry's level of apprehension began to rise; Snape's actions were turning toward something he hadn't even considered before.
“Well don't hold your breath waiting for the Order to arrive; they're probably only just now realising you've gone missing. They won't even begin to know where to look. You were the only one there on that Tower tonight – no one else knows what happened. After I take you to the Dark Lord, I can easily return to the school, covering my absence by saying I was fulfilling my role as spy and trying to find out the Dark Lord's next move. I'll report, sadly, that there was no sign of the missing Harry Potter and the Dark Lord has no idea of where he might be.”
Frozen dread moved through Harry's veins as he realized then that everything Snape was saying was true. No one – NO ONE – knew that Snape was a murderer; no one knew that Draco had not gone through with it; no one knew Harry had taken off after them; no one knew where Harry was! Harry would be killed and all knowledge of what had happened on the Tower would die with him; Snape could return to Hogwarts with no one the wiser, ready to continue his duties as Voldemort's spy inside the Order!
“I will enjoy being the one to turn you over to the Dark Lord, to witness your punishment, to see you finally brought down, Potter. To know every indignity I've suffered at your father's hands will finally be avenged.”
Try as he might, he couldn't hold it back any longer. Harry understood now – Snape's actions had nothing to do with Voldemort. Voldemort was just an excuse. It was all because of hatred for his father that Snape did what he did! Pent up feelings of rage for the years of unjust treatment from this man, for no reason other than he was James Potter's son, something he had no control of, came pouring out.
“That's not fair!” he cried. “I never, never did anything to you! From the first day of class, you had it in for me just because of my father. You were the one holding a grudge; you wanted revenge on him and couldn't get it because he was dead – so you took it out on me! I was only a child, for God's sake. I didn't understand back then, and it hurt to know someone hated me just because I was me.
“But I know now why you've been so hateful – and it's your own fault you can't get your revenge on my father. It may have been Voldemort that cast the Killing Curse, but he was there because of you! You were the one to tell him of the Prophecy!
“ YOU were the one who really killed my father and mother!”
Snape was so quick, Harry didn't have time to brace himself; the sound of Snape's backhand echoed through the room. The force snapped Harry's head to the side; he could feel blood trickle down the side of his mouth, and for a second he thought he'd black out again. But then Snape was on him, straddling him. He grabbed a handful of Harry's hair, pulling down and back so hard that Harry was forced to look directly into Snape's eyes.
“You have NO idea what you are talking about!” he hissed at Harry, looming over him. “You are nothing but a stupid, ignorant boy with no idea of my motives!”
“Fine!” Harry shouted back. “Tell me I'm wrong then! Tell me what your real motives are, if it's not getting revenge on my dead father by using me, by hurting me – by letting Voldemort kill me! Tell me! I'm listening!”
Snape was so close to Harry that he could see little flecks of gold in the dark of Snape's eyes as they glittered at him in anger.
“So stubborn, aren't you? You're mind is an open book for anyone, ANYONE, to read what's there! You refused to learn Occlumency in order to guard your thoughts! You didn't WANT to sever the connection with the Dark Lord. It was your choice! Even Draco has mastered it. Anything you learn, the Dark Lord will eventually know! You can never hope to beat him if you don't learn to CLOSE YOUR MIND!”
Snape's anger receded now, and he began to gloat. “But it's too late for that, isn't it? You don't have any time left. Soon, he'll know every one of your thoughts, every move you've made and every place you've been, every detail of every conversation you've had with Dumbledore…you won't be able to hide anything from him…
“So what he'll learn from you of my motives is this – I am his spy, I am his loyal servant, I have fooled everyone at Hogwarts, even Dumbledore. I finished Draco's mission and now Dumbledore is gone. We were supposed to let you be, but now that your stupidity has brought you here, I will be the one to take you to him. And he will know before I do, that I made you pay for all of your father's transgressions .” Snape tightened his grip on Harry's hair, tilting his head further back and exposing his neck. Harry's breath hitched as Snape leaned down and began his assault – kissing, nibbling, and licking at his jaw.
Snape was right, of course. He did his best to hide it, but he could never keep his mind closed – Snape had to feel Harry's rising terror. After all, just a few short hours ago Harry had done his best to try and kill the man, and now here he was, pinned under Snape's body – a body that was making it clear exactly what Snape planned on doing to him. Harry squeezed his eyes closed as Snape progressed down from his jaw to his throat, biting and marking his neck along the way. Letting go of Harry's hair, he raised himself up and tugged on Harry's shirt, pushing it over his head and up as far as it would go around Harry's bound arms.
As he gazed down, the only word Severus could think of was – ‘beautiful'. It was so like her, but so much more, so uniquely Harry. He'd fantasized so many times about this – but to finally have it come true, to really feel the boy beneath him, to know that he'd be the one to take that innocence away – the reality of it was exquisite.
Severus reached down slowly, as if in worship, touching the smooth skin on Harry's chest, softly tracing a circle with his fingernail around a nipple, lightly rolling it between his fingers, feeling it harden with the attention. With his mouth, he leaned to the other one and began lightly biting and sucking, savoring the slight salty taste of sweat on Harry's skin.
Harry still had his eyes shut, trying desperately to not think about what was happening. He didn't see Snape's hand move towards him – he startled at the touch and trembled violently, his breathing was becoming shallower, quicker – he started to feel himself responding. He was powerless against the onslaught of mouth and hands on his body. He tried so hard to stay silent, to not beg or plead, to get through what he knew he couldn't stop. He wasn't weak – he could do this and survive. There were worse things that could be done to him. But it was his arousal that scared him now, as he could no longer deny what was happening. “Please…please don't do this…”
The sounds of Harry's pleas were so enticing – Severus shifted his weight to one side, moving his knee and forcing Harry's legs apart. Harry instinctively tugged against his ropes, trying to pull away, but then couldn't stop himself from pushing his hips up, pressing his growing erection against Severus' leg as Severus pressed back down on him with his own hardness. Severus' hand began traveling a path along Harry's side, moving until it met the top of his jeans, following along the waistline to the front, undoing a button, pulling on a zipper, pushing fabric out of the way…
That first touch was wet and hot and hard. The way Harry moved into it, moaning and wanting, eyes closed, head back, lips slightly parted – he was the perfect picture of desire. Severus was so aroused by it, he thought he might come just from the sounds and the sight.
Harry was losing himself to Snape's attack – his whole body burned as Snape touched, squeezed, rubbed, moved. But…he hated Snape, he didn't want this…he couldn't, he wouldn't, lose control, not for Snape…but it felt so good…so much like his dream…so much like the Prince…and he wanted his Prince…
He had to know. He had to know if it was a lie. If the boy he dreamed about loving him and taking him had really grown up into a man who hated and despised him. He could barely get the words out; he was so breathless with the lust Snape was evoking in him… “I have to know if…if you're really him…are you really the Half-Blood Prince?”
Snape paused as Harry finally looked at him, eyes pleading, searching…. “Oh yes, my Harry. I'm your Prince,” he crooned sensually. “I'm the one you've been dreaming of. Don't be so surprised that I know – my book wasn't all I saw in your mind that day. But something's missing, isn't it? Something that doesn't quite make this the same as in your dreams…”
Snape took his wand, and with a bang, the ropes around Harry's left wrist dissolved. The dreams – he knew what was missing too, why his arm was freed – Snape really had seen the dreams after all.
As if in a trance now, Harry reached up…
It was just like Ivan's letter said, like it always was in his dreams: black strands of the finest, softest, silk.
He keened at the feel of that hair, pushing himself up more, trying to move his body closer, needing to get more contact between them. He couldn't fight his body, his dreams, his Prince, anymore. It was like a dam had broken and the roar of rushing water filled his head.
His Prince knew exactly what to do, exactly what he needed, pushing, thrusting, and filling him with a burning pain that brought tears to his eyes, then turned into a pleasure like no other he'd ever felt before. His Prince was claiming him, owning him, breaking him. His insides began to constrict, his breath coming in faster and shallower pants. He didn't even exist anymore as a separate person; his soul, his entire essence, was blending, merging, becoming one with his Prince. And then he was falling, going over the edge, giving himself up to the feeling, the pleasure, the ecstasy, not caring if anyone saw or heard as he cried out, as he felt the shock waves pulsing and coursing through his body.
Severus was undone; the feel of Harry around him, the sounds of Harry's climax, the vision of Harry's face, contorted in such painful pleasure that he couldn't hold back any longer. As his own climax began, he no longer thought of her, no longer remembered the couplings long past…all that existed in his world, in his life, was this beautiful boy – his Harry .
Snape collapsed to the side of Harry, wrapping his arms around the boy, – no, a man now – a pleasant feeling of calmness descending on him. He found himself tenderly moving a hand up and down Harry's back, pressing his face into Harry's hair. Harry still had one wrist still bound, but had moved his free arm around Severus' waist, head lowered into his chest. It felt good to hold Harry like this; it had been so long since he'd had this type of contact. Not that he'd gone without sex – that was always available somewhere. It was the ‘afterwards', the desire to hold and be held that went unfulfilled. He hadn't realized how much he missed it until he had Harry here in his arms like this.
He wished they could sleep awhile. The entire interlude couldn't have taken more than twenty minutes, but it was exhausting, physically and emotionally. The real world would soon have to be dealt with, though. He had one more thing to do…the Dark Lord's plans.
“So if you can't fight me, Potter, what are you going to do when the Dark Lord takes you to his bed?”
Harry had his head buried against Snape's chest, still recovering from his release. At Snape's question, he slowly looked up to face him, not believing what he'd just heard. He would have expected Snape's tone to be mocking, but it came across as almost – concerned. “What? What did you say?” he asked incredulously.
“He has a plan for you now,” Snape began. “Did you not hear me remind Amycus and Alecto not to harm you? All Death Eaters are under orders to leave you alone. He'd planned to come and get you himself once Dumbledore was gone. Any vows or covenants made with Dumbledore would be gone too – no place is safe for you anymore. And he no longer plans on killing you; he's given up that idea, seeing how he's tried five times and failed. No, his plan now is to ensure that you no longer have the power to defeat him, to ensure that the prophecy will not come true.
“There is a ritual which used to be part of the marriage ceremony between a Muggle and a w izard. Ages ago, when wizards realized that they needed to intermarry with Muggles or die out, marriages between them were normally arranged in order to create a match that would result in magical offspring. Unfortunately, in a relationship where one has excessive power, especially in a loveless one, the Wizarding partner at times would be abusive and use their magic to harm or even kill the defenseless Muggle partner. A ritual was developed and added to the marriage ceremony that prevented the wizard from using magic against the Muggle; the only time it would be allowed was in self-defense. The protection was activated when the marriage was consummated, and once activated, could never be revoked. It's seldom used anymore, but not unheard of. Even my own parents made it a part of their ceremony, much to my detriment. My father would never think to abuse my mother; abusing me, however, was not out of the question. It's to her credit that she was able to finally create a spell and free us from its bonds or I might have died before I ever made it to Hogwarts. She was my inspiration for all those spells I came up with and wrote down in that book of mine. She had her own spellbook that she kept all of her creations in. It was one of my prized possessions. Too bad I had to leave it behind; tonight's events came about a bit – earlier – than expected.”
As Harry continued to stare at Snape, dumfounded by this monologue, Snape's smile turned evil, his words becoming cold and menacing. The hand that had been on Harry's back now grabbed onto his hair again. This was the Snape Harry knew.
“The Dark Lord has modified this ritual and plans on invoking it with you to ensure you will never, ever be able to use your magic to harm him. It also means he cannot try to kill you since that would allow you to use magic in your own defense: but he's not concerned with that. He believes once the protection is – activated – you will no longer be a threat.
“When he's sure your power over him has been neutralized, he'll be done with you. But he won't allow you to go free either…since he can't kill you and doesn't want you for himself…” Snape leaned in closer now, their faces almost touching, his warm breath caressing Harry's face, “…he's giving you to me. I've asked for you as my reward, Potter, if I did my job successfully tonight. And he's agreed.”
With that, Snape pulled Harry to him in a fierce embrace, pressing their mouths together, lightly brushing his tongue over Harry's dry lips. The sudden gesture surprised Harry. Struggling at first to pull away, Snape held him firm. Heart hammering in his chest, Harry found himself giving in to the demand, slowly parting his lips. As he surrendered, Snape pushed in, hot and hungry, brutally invading and ravishing Harry's mouth as passionately as he just had his body.
When Snape finally released him from the kiss, everything that had happened to Harry in the past twenty-four hours came crashing down, embodied in this one person who was responsible for taking everything precious from him: Dumbledore…Sirius…his parents…his Prince…his innocence…and soon, his freedom. He couldn't stop the tears now – tears of grief, tears of helplessness, tears of hopelessness. He hated himself for what he'd just done. Snape was taking him to Voldemort – why then, did he feel such comfort in this man's arms? Was he so desperate for love, for any kind of affection, that he was willing to let this murderer hold him and touch him so intimately?
“God, I hate you!” he sobbed.
It was uncontrollable now. Harry continued to softly cry, head buried into Snape's chest. Snape continued to hold him, petting his head lovingly, lightly planting a kiss on his hair.
“That's O.K. Harry. Don't worry, I hate you too…”
***************************
Draco had a good idea of what Severus had planned, but hearing it was still somewhat shocking. He knew Severus hated Potter, as much as he did himself…or at least he had, until…when, a few hours ago? How many times had he imagined doing the same thing to Potter that Severus was doing now?
He had to clear his head and think – he couldn't be distracted by the sounds of Potter's distress…he had to think about Potter's words, his promises…were they real? Did Potter really mean to help him, or was he just saying what he needed to in order to get Draco to help him?
But Potter had to have been there – everything he'd said he saw happen had happened exactly the way Potter described it. He wasn't making that part up – and Draco knew better. He knew Potter. Six years of watching, planning, scheming – Potter didn't make promises of any kind that he didn't intend to keep – he was the ultimate honorable Gryffindor git. If Draco helped Potter escape, Potter would help him and his mother hide from the Dark Lord. As much as he felt an obligation to Severus, he had more confidence in Potter's ability to keep him safe. After all, he'd fought the Dark Lord several times and managed to live through it – he must be doing something right.
Now he had to think about – how. How would he get Potter free, and where would they go once he was? Severus had put up an Anti-Apparition ward to guard against Potter's Apparating from the Room. He thought that the ward extended over the entire mill, which meant they'd have to not only get out of the Sanctuary Room, but also outside the building. Draco knew the layout of the Room, but wasn't sure what it looked like outside. He didn't think Severus would be going back to sleep…it was 4:30 already – sunrise would be in another twenty minutes or so – Severus said he'd be leaving with Potter right after sunrise….he didn't have much time. The Apparition ward would have to be lowered before they left – if he waited until then, he'd have just a split second or two to disable Severus. Severus was strong – a simple Stupefy might not be enough. But he didn't want anything so strong that it would actually hurt Severus either.
Damn! He hated betraying Severus, especially after what happened on the Tower tonight. Maybe hiding out in Muggle London wouldn't be so bad after all. He was sure Severus was right about the Dark Lord. Once he had Potter to keep him entertained, would he really keep searching for Draco? Maybe he wasn't dead after all. But could he live with the fact that he was trading his life for Potter's? Why should he care if Potter lived or died anyway? It was his own fault for getting captured.
Damn! I wish I knew what to do!
***************************
Harry had finally quieted. Severus laid him back on the bed and moved away. He felt like cleaning up a bit before the final phase of the plan was executed. He only hoped that Harry had come across as sincere enough for Draco to believe in him.
Harry seemed so defeated; all the fight from before was gone. Severus had hoped there was some spark left that would emerge at the final moment when needed; if not, then maybe they'd all been wrong about Harry's abilities – he'd deserve to be taken to the Dark Lord.
Snape pulled out his wand, and with a bang, the rope around Harry's right wrist dissolved. Harry slowly sat up, bringing his right arm down in front of him and rubbing the circulation back with his left. He looked up at Snape, but didn't say anything as Snape held out his hand. Harry obediently took it and followed as they went toward another room – it was a small bathroom with sink, toilet, and shower…the thought of warm water to wash the night's events from his body seemed suddenly appealing to Harry.
Harry let Snape take over – he didn't want to make any sudden moves. When Snape had finally freed his other arm, he became alert to the possibility of escape. Only, he knew how easily Snape could read him. He concentrated with all his might on putting a blankness in the forefront of his thoughts, to appear as if still in a submissive haze caused by knowing the plans that Voldemort had in store for him.
The warmth of the water was relaxing – it was easy to focus on it, to fall into the massaging affect of the water as it sprayed down on them. Severus was gentle as he cleaned Harry first – almost like bathing a child. It was too bad they didn't have more time, but there would be other opportunities. It was close to sunrise.
After drying Harry, Severus took a spare robe and wrapped it around Harry's naked form, the front hanging open loosely. Harry was so appealing like this. It took every ounce of control not to just push Harry onto the counter top and take him all over again. As it was, he simply moved the fabric apart, pulling Harry close to him, reveling in the feel of skin touching skin as they embraced. He inhaled the clean scent of Harry's hair. Who knew when he'd get to hold his boy like this again – it could be months…it could be never. He wanted to savor and remember every moment they had together.
Severus finally had to give in to the lack of time and released Harry. Closing the robe, Severus led Harry out of the bathroom and over to sit on the bed. Harry still hadn't seemed to come out of it. Severus was concerned by that. Hopefully the blankness would pass; if Draco did decide to make a move, Harry needed to be able to act on it and not just stand there passively. Draco could Apparate himself but he wasn't sure if Draco was strong enough for a side-along Apparition.
Taking Harry's chin in his hand, he tilted Harry's head up and looked into his eyes. He read no sign of rebellion, but he couldn't take a chance. He moved Harry's wrist over to the headboard and took out his wand. Harry made as if to pull back, but then thought better of it. “It's just for a minute. I'm going to go let Draco know we're leaving. I'll be right back, O.K.?” Harry just nodded at him, and with a bang, cords came out of Severus' wand and bound Harry's right wrist again. Severus frowned as Harry gazed back down at the hand that was lying in his lap – looking beaten.
***************************
Severus walked out of the room to find Draco sitting with his head tilted back in that chair he liked so much.
“Draco, are you awake?”
“God, Severus” he said, opening his eyes and raising his head to look at him. “How is anyone going to sleep through all of that? Did you have a good time?” he asked smugly.
“Jealous, are you? Sorry we have to be leaving…you could have had a go.”
“Another time maybe – you're ready then?”
“Yes – I just wanted to let you know we're coming out in a minute. I won't lower the ward until right before we go, and I'll be keeping an arm around him in case he gets any ideas when he feels it drop. He may not be licensed to Apparate yet, but Albus told me he knows how. In any event, be prepared – he's acting docile, but I don't trust that it's genuine.”
“Yeah, it sounded like you pretty well broke him. I might be a bit subdued too. I'll be ready though.”
Severus went back into the side room to get Harry. This is it , Draco thought. I have to decide.
***************************
He saw it there, as Snape led him over to the bed…he did everything he could not to picture it, but it was there in the back of his mind. He had to keep it there, behind the blankness. If Snape saw it, he'd know the apathy was just an act.
As soon as Snape left, he grabbed the bottle from under the bed and slid it into the right pocket of the robe. Thankfully, he could still reach it even with his wrist bound. He had almost given it away when Snape moved his hand to the headboard! Only the very top had been visible, but he remembered Draco setting it down on the floor when he'd finished drinking. It wasn't big, but with enough strength he might be able knock Snape out long enough to…to what? Over the past ten hours, he'd only had the pumpkin juice to drink and maybe two hours of sleep, and with the injuries caused by Snape during their duel and other…happenings…he was in a weakened state. If he couldn't knock Snape out completely – well, he'd hate to think of the repercussions. His jaw was still sore from Snape's earlier backhand. He didn't want to think of the type of beating Snape would dish out.
He also had no idea where they were. Snape must have put up an Anti-Apparition ward. Try as he might, he seemed to hit an invisible wall when visualizing the gates of Hogwarts or the streets of Hogsmeade. He didn't know enough about wards to try and break it, and with it being one of Snape's, it had to be doubly strong.
So Apparating was not an option from inside the room, and probably not from any room in the building they were in. That meant getting outside. And then where?
To add to all the other obstacles, there was the Draco factor to contend with. What would he do? Would he help Harry? Harry wouldn't be able to fight them both. He was just going to have to hope he'd gotten through to Draco. He had no other options.
His heart was beating fast, he could feel the adrenaline rising, preparing for the fight…this wasn't good. Snape would notice…he had to calm down. He had to bring the blankness back….he heard the door opening…
***************************
Harry was sitting on the bed, exactly as Severus had left him, staring down at the one hand in his lap. Severus sighed…he was disappointed that Harry seemed to be in such shock. Any encounter with the Dark Lord was certainly not something to look forward to, but he expected some sign of resistance to be there – had Harry really resigned himself to his fate so easily? I think not. It's just too suspicious.
Severus walked over and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. The only reaction he felt was a slight shudder at the touch.
“It's time.”
With a bang, he removed the ropes binding Harry's wrist. Harry stood up and moved his left arm around Severus' waist and leaned against him, as if he needed the support to stay standing.
I suppose I would feel weak too at the thought of being taken to the Dark Lord for that kind of ritual , Severus thought.
Severus put his right arm around Harry's shoulder and led him forward out of the room.
***************************
Harry's gamble had paid off – when Snape helped him from the shower, he'd held him on his left side – which was Snape's right – probably because he was better able to support Harry's weight on that side. This time was no different. Harry kept his right arm loose, but moved it into the pocket, holding onto the neck of the bottle. The passive act must have been enough to convince Snape Harry wouldn't resist. Harry had been worried Snape might bind his arms behind his back or in some other way restrain him; that would have been the end of his plans for escaping!
Draco was standing in the middle of the room as the two of them walked in. Harry glanced over at Draco, but Draco showed no sign of offering Harry support. He had his wand out though – not good if he wasn't going to help Harry.
“Draco, I'll be back in a week. If I'm not, I left a list of those places we talked about earlier. Try and get to one of those.”
“I'll be fine, Severus…you have a good time with Potter there,” he said, as he looked over at Harry.
“You sounded like you had such fun with Severus – I bet you can't wait until the rest of them have their turn with you,” he taunted.
Never breaking eye contact with Harry, Draco smiled slightly as he added contemptuously “Scared, Potter?”
Draco held his wand in his right hand with the tip against the side of his face, moving it up and down slowly. It was the same type of movement that he had used against Harry's face when healing the cut.
Harry knew then – those words, that gesture - Draco was trying to tell him he was on Harry's side!
Snape pulled Harry closer to him, almost chest to chest in a semi-embrace.
The ward dropped – Harry tensed. He had to turn a bit to get enough leverage to be able to effectively swing his arm around with the bottle. He began trying to push away from Snape, but Snape held tight. All he could think to do was to try and convince Snape he was scared, to get him to let loose just enough so his arm would have some momentum…“Please, Professor – don't take me there…please, I don't want to go…Dumbledore trusted you!…How can you do this?” He began to seriously struggle. He managed to pivot back just enough, away from Snape. Glancing over at Draco showed him to be just standing there, wand out but not attacking. In a flash, Harry pulled the bottle from the robe pocket and with all his might, brought it crashing against the left side of Snape's head.
Snape fell to his knees, but he wasn't out. He put a hand up to the side of his head – there was blood everywhere. He hadn't let go of Harry, though – he was still holding onto Harry's left wrist with his other hand. Harry tried to pull free, but Severus' grasp was like a vise.
As Harry struggled, he threw a panicked look at Draco and yelled “Malfoy, please! Help me!”
“Impedimenta!”
Harry was free!
Draco stood there, frozen by the sight of Severus' lifeless body, in a heap on the floor where he'd landed after being flung against the wall.
“What have I done?” he whispered, sending a look of dread at Harry.
Harry tentatively knelt over Snape and felt at his neck for a pulse. “He's O.K., Malfoy. You just knocked him out.”
Harry got up from Snape and walked over to Draco. Touching his arm, he started. “It's O.K., Malfoy. Come with me – you'll be O.K. I promise – I told you. I know you didn't kill Dumbledore. Nothing is going to happen to you – I'll take care of you. If anything, you'll be a hero – you rescued the ‘Boy-who-Lived'.
“We can start over – O.K.? We don't have to let our past animosity define our future. See…Mal…I mean, Draco…” With that, Harry reached down and tentatively took Draco's hand.
Draco closed his eyes, took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Really, with that curse, he'd already made his choice.
“Where do we go, Harry? We can Apparate now – the ward is down.”
“I have a house we can go to first. I think it should still be safe for now. I don't want to go to Hogwarts with you yet – who knows what it's like there, and people are not going to listen if they see you first. But I'll have to Side-Along Apparate with you – the house is under Fidelius.”
“Harry – how long have you been able to Apparate? Have you ever done a Side-Along before?”
“Yes, only once, but I know I can do it again…remember? Destination, Determination, and Deliberation…I know where, I'm definitely determined, and really – what choice do we have? Trust me, Draco. I…I won't leave you behind. I wouldn't be free without your help.”
Draco nodded his acceptance. Harry put his arms around Draco, and thought as hard as he could of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
***************************
The Evening Prophet
June 5, 1997
HOGWARTS ATTACKED BY DEATH EATERS
DRACO MALFOY RESCUES ‘THE BOY WHO LIVED'
HEADMASTER DUMBLEDORE CONFIRMED DEAD
As reported earlier this morning, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came under attack by Death Eaters late yesterday. The resulting death of Headmaster Dumbledore and the kidnapping of Harry Potter shocked the entire Wizarding community.
We have good news to report this evening; Harry Potter has been rescued by none other than Draco Malfoy, son of the infamous Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy is currently incarcerated in Azkaban for his role in the Ministry Attack last year.
Although unavailable for comment, we are printing a statement issued by Mr. Potter earlier today (note from staff: we cannot print You-Know-Who's name and instead will be replacing all references Mr. Potter makes to him with ‘XXXXX'):
“I owe my life to Draco Malfoy. It was with his assistance that I was able to escape from Severus Snape. Although I initially suspected Mr. Malfoy to be a Death Eater, I personally witnessed Snape casting the Killing Curse on Headmaster Dumbledore. Mr. Malfoy was offered a safe place to go into hiding, as his life is certainly in danger now that he has betrayed XXXXX with his rescue of me. However, Mr. Malfoy has rejected that offer and has instead, at great personal risk, decided to join the right side and actively take part in the fight against XXXXX. This change is significant – it proves that I, along with many others at the school, have been wrong about the Slytherins. Being in Slytherin does not mean you are evil. Being in Slytherin does not mean you are a Death Eater in training or destined to become one. We make our own destiny. If we are going to win the War against XXXXX, we ALL have to learn to work together and accept each other for who we are.
And Snape – as I am sure you are reading this – know that I am serious about finding you. There is no place you can hide from me. I will find you eventually, no matter how long it takes. You will pay for your murder of Professor Dumbledore and all the other crimes you have committed. I will not forget what you have done."
Currently the whereabouts of Severus Snape, former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at the school and accused murderer of Albus Dumbledore, are unknown. He is now one of the most sought after criminals, second only to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
***************************
“Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library.”
“R.A.B.?” said Harry, sitting up straight.
“No,” she said sadly, “I've been trying, Harry, but I haven't found anything….No, actually, it's about…well, Snape.”
“What about him?” asked Harry heavily, slumping back in his chair.
“Well, it's just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince business,” she said tentatively.
“D'you have to rub it in, Hermione? How d'you think I feel about that now?”
“No – no – Harry, I didn't mean that!” she said hastily, looking around to check that they were not being overheard. “It's just that I was right about Eileen Prince. You see…she was Snape's mother!”
“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she'd given birth to a –”
“ – murderer, ” spat Harry.
“Well…yes,” said Hermione. “So … I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being ‘half a Prince,' you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it said in the Prophet.”
“Yeah, that fits, ” said Harry. “He'd play up the pureblood side so he could get in with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them…He's just like Voldemort. Pureblood mother, Muggle father….ashamed of his parentage, trying to make himself feared using the Dark Arts, giving himself an impressive new name – Lord Voldemort – the Half-Blood Prince – how could Dumbledore have missed – ?”
He broke off, looking out the window. He could not stop himself dwelling upon Dumbledore's inexcusable trust in Snape…but as Hermione had just inadvertently reminded him, he, Harry, had been taken in just the same…In spite of the increasing nastiness of those scribbled spells, he had refused to believe ill of the boy who had been so clever, who had helped him so much….
Helped him … it was an almost unendurable thought now.
“Harry…there's something else you should see.”
She handed him a faded copy of the Daily Prophet , dated June 4, 1976. On the front page was a large picture under the headlines “Hogwarts Potions Duo take International Prize”. The caption under the photo said “Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stands with his two brightest students, Lily Ivans and Severus Snape, as they are presented with the Grand Prize during the Awards Banquet.”
Sure enough, the picture showed a beaming Professor Slughorn, standing next to a young, and smiling, Snape – Harry easily recognized him from the Pensieve memory, but the smile made him look so – human. Between them, and holding Snape's hand of all things, was – his mother!
“Harry, look at the notation next to the article – it's a handwritten note on the paper. It says ‘Index under Evans, not Ivans – name misspelled on entry form.' Harry…your mother was the letter writer to the Half-blood Prince – she's Ivan! She and Snape were…were…” Hermione couldn't say what they were all thinking.
All his breath left him at that – it felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible that his mother, and Snape…No!
But what if…it was all true?
There was one person who would know.
Harry jumped up and ran from the library, still clutching the copy of the Prophet . “Harry, wait” Hermione yelled. But there was no stopping him now. It only took him a minute to get to where he was going, running past startled students, ignoring them all.
Please, please be there – I have to know this now, Harry thought as he knocked on the door of Slughorn's office.
He didn't have long to wait – Professor Slughorn answered almost immediately.
“Harry, my boy.” he said sadly. “I'm surprised to see you here. Come in, come in. How are you holding up?”
“I'm O.K., sir – as well as can be expected. How are you doing?” Professor Slughorn's eyes were watery and red rimmed. Harry wondered if he'd been crying.
“I'll be fine, fine. It's just a very sad situation. Dumbledore was great wizard, a great man…a good friend. And I never would have thought Severus capable of committing such an act. If you hadn't witnessed it, I never would have believed it.”
“Actually, Professor, Snape is why I'm here.”
Professor Slughorn looked at him in surprise, but as Harry handed him the copy of the Prophet , comprehension spread across his face.
“Were my mother and Snape…um…do you know if they were…were they…?” Harry just looked pleadingly at the Professor – he couldn't bring himself to use the word ‘lovers' – it was too difficult to think of them like that.
Professor Slughorn sighed deeply, then motioned Harry over to sit down on the sofa while he pulled over a chair and sat in front of him.
“Harry, your mother and Severus were my two best students. I knew it was taking a risk, pairing them up to enter the contest – they hated each other with a passion. They were in competition with each other in every class they were in, and neither one could stay on top for long. They were constantly one-upping each other. And with your mother being a Gryffindor and Severus a Slytherin, well, it just added to their being natural enemies – like yourself and Mr. Malfoy. Well, the way you two used to be,” he amended.
“So believe me when I tell you how much of a shock it was to walk in on them – kissing and what not. They would work late into the night sometimes, on the weekends. They were creating their own potion from scratch and it was taking a while for them to get the final proportions down correctly. Or so I thought. One evening after I left them to their work, I realized I had left some papers in the lab that I need to mark , so I went back. I never let them know I'd seen them, but I felt I had to tell Dumbledore. He didn't seem at all surprised when I told him, so maybe he already knew. We were only a month away from end of term, so Dumbledore said to just let it go – time would take care of everything.
“What was most surprising for me wasn't seeing two students who supposedly hated each other in each other's arms like that, but that Severus would be with a girl. You see, he and Lucius Malfoy were an item during the first two years Severus was in school. Lucius graduated and that was the end of it. Severus never showed any interest in girls. Even with your mother, it didn't last. Once they came back from the summer holidays, she started dating your father. Severus and she were still close friends, but not like before. I heard rumors that he and Lucius got back together that summer, so that might have been why. I don't really know and it wasn't my business.
“So I take it from your question, no one's ever mentioned this to you before?”
“No, no one's ever said anything to me.” Harry felt angry – when was he ever told the truth about anything?
“Well, it could be because it was well known that you and Severus didn't get on together, almost as bad as your mother and him. Maybe Dumbledore was waiting to see if history would repeat itself and you two could work things out as you got older.
“I do know this – it came out at the Death Eater trials that the main reason Severus became a spy for the Order was to try and protect your mother. He was devastated by her death, you know. Went after Sirius Black himself for betraying your whereabouts to the Dark Lord, but the Ministry beat him to it.”
“I appreciate your telling me about this. Oh, one more thing. Why did they print my mother's name as ‘Ivans' instead of ‘Evans'?”
“Oh, well, that was my fault in a way. They couldn't read my writing on the entry form and recorded your mother's name as ‘Ivans'. I tried to get them to fix it, but they could never get it right. Severus gave her a hard time about – calling her ‘Ivan the Terrible' and things like that. His teasing caused them both many nights of detentions. Now that I think back on it, those detentions could have been something they did on purpose…they were really quite clever at hiding their true feelings.”
“Thanks, Professor, for taking the time to see me,” Harry said quietly.
“No problem my boy. You take care of yourself, O.K. I'll be seeing you at the services.”
Harry slowly walked out of Professor Slughorn's office, deep in thought over everything he'd just been told.
So many things suddenly fell into place. Was that why Dumbledore had been so sure about Snape's loyalty – because his mother and Snape had once been lovers? Dumbledore had said it had been the greatest regret of his life – telling Voldemort about the Prophecy. The Prophecy was made right after the beginning of the year. His mother probably didn't even know she was pregnant yet! Snape couldn't have known it meant Lily, James, and Harry. And once he realized what he'd done, was that ‘the reason he returned' that Dumbledore had referred to?
Everything Snape had said – Harry had thought Snape was just gloating, tormenting him by describing what Voldemort planned to do to him. He thought Snape hadn't expected that Harry would get away, so giving him the information would be harmless. But…if he thought about it all, Snape had told Harry everything – EVERYTHING. He knew he probably wasn't safe now at the Dursleys. He'd have been going back there and possibly right into Voldemort's waiting arms if Snape hadn't mentioned Dumbledore's death affecting the vows – vows made with his Aunt that might now be non-existent. And the ritual – Harry thought Snape had just mentioned it in passing, that his mother had used it but was able to void it…it allowed him a place to start searching for a way to counteract it if Voldemort was ever able to capture him and actually carry it out.
All this time – was it a lie? Was Snape really helping him? Snape really didn't hate him? He'd told Harry that everything Harry knew, Voldemort would eventually find out if he didn't learn to Occlude. That meant Voldemort would learn that he knew about the Horcruxes. Suddenly, mastering Occlumency became a top priority. He was already partly there though. He'd successfully hidden from Snape the fact that he'd found the bottle and what he'd planned to do with it.
Snape – was his life going to be forever marred by that man? He had been influencing Harry's life since before Harry was born! There was no excuse for what Snape had done, no matter how much Harry might have fantasized about being with the Prince. Snape had used that memory and taken advantage of him when he couldn't fight back. No matter how much Harry ended up wanting it in the end, it still didn't make it right. It made him angry to think about it: angry with Snape, angry with himself. Because even though he hadn't wanted it to happen – not then and not that way – Harry knew he wanted it to happen again. And he had no doubt that the next time they met, Snape would make sure it did.
***************************
He was proud of his boys. Draco had come through at the last minute. It was a good thing, too, because he had never decided on where he would Apparate to with Harry if Draco didn't stop him. He never had any real intention of taking Harry to the Dark Lord, but they hadn't known that. The reason he was so successful as a spy was that he could put on such a believable performance. This time was certainly one of his better and more enjoyable ones. He had Harry to thank for that! He had to admit, Harry had certainly surprised him. He knew something was up – but he hadn't been able to get through that blankness. Now if Harry could continue and build on that, he might yet turn into a decent Occlumens.
So, Harry, you're not going to forget what I've done? I certainly hope not – I know I never will. The image I have of you giving yourself over to me will forever be burned into my memory. Keep looking for me, Harry – I won't be hard to find. We'll have to make some more memories once you finally do.