Low Man Is Due
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,754
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,754
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dolls of voodoo all stuck with pins
Inspiration seems to be back, so I\'m working on these whilst it\'s with me! Thank you to you lovely people who reviewed, made my heart glad to see some people still reading this.
m_m - you haven\'t reviewed my stuff before, so you might not be familiar with it. I don\'t do quick solutions. Long, drawn out, ridiculously convoluted? Yes, I do those.
WARNING: Same old, same old.
Chapter 2: Dolls of voodoo all stuck with pins
A week later Harry was finally allowed up. The restraints had been removed, and, at long last, he was able to move about and visit the lad lying in the bed next to him – Ron. Oddly, during the previous seven days, Ron hadn’t spoken to Harry, not even as they both lay there bored as the hours slowly passed. The few times Harry had begun a conversation with his friend, Ron had grunted a few words, then feigned sleep. The black haired boy was a little pissed about it, if he was honest. He had done everything he could to protect his friend, and Ron was ignoring him.
He resolved to settle whatever problem there was between them.
“Ron? How are you feeling?”
“Just fucking perfect!” Ron snarled, his marked face evidence of his mistreatment.
Harry felt his face fall. He had protected Ron, or had tried to, but that first attack upon the boy had been vicious. Had it damaged him so much?
“What happened?” he asked, a little unsure of the likely response. He wanted to sit on Ron’s bed, his weakened body not really capable of standing for great lengths, but something in Ron’s attitude kept him from sitting.
“I fucking did everything I could to protect you, Harry, that’s what happened!” Ron’s voice cracked, hysteria clear to hear.
“What? I tried to protect you. They wanted to beat you, and if I said no, they said they’d do it to you. I saw them do it once and I made sure I never refused again.” Harry’s voice held a note of a plea. He wanted Ron to understand how hard Harry had tried to protect his friend – right up until that final moment. Was that what Ron was annoyed about? Had Snape told Ron what Harry had done?
Harry’s stomach twisted. Snape.
Ron gave a sharp bark of mirthless laughter. “No, you’ve got it twisted about. I tried to protect you. They said they wanted you alive to suffer whatever You-Know-Who had planned. I didn’t matter. I could suffer anything and nobody would mind.”
All of Ron’s self-doubts had clearly been reinforced by the Death Eaters’ comments, and Harry silently cursed them for making Ron hate himself.
“If I refused to do what they wanted, they’d take it out on you. They beat you to a bloody pulp and I had to watch. After that I did whatever they wanted.”
Tears trickled from Harry’s eyes and slid slowly down his face. “They tricked us,” he croaked, throat closing with grief, “they tricked us.” He paused, “But I saw you. I saw what they did to you!”
“Through a window? Into a different room?” Ron asked, voice cold and angry. He saw Harry’s nod. “Easy enough to fake. Merlin! What an idiot I was!”
Harry’s green eyes were filled with pain at what he, and Ron, had suffered needlessly. Suddenly the bright hospital seemed far away. Instead he was trapped in a stone room, chained to a wall, whipped, eaten …
“God!” he groaned, “Malfoy…”
Ron’s whole demeanour changed. He shrank, (if that is possible lying on a bed), and his face set into a stony expression. “What about him? He didn’t hurt you.”
Incredulous, Harry turned emerald eyes to Ron. “Didn’t hurt me? The bastard tortured me for five hours!” He shuddered, remembering having to relive those memories for Snape.
The red head snorted. “Five hours? Big fucking deal. That bastard tricked me into taking your punishment the whole time we were captured. He even fucking locked me in a room full of spears. If I’d moved I’d have killed myself. Fucking hours I was in there! I didn’t know if he was ever going to let me out. So don’t tell me you suffered at his hands. You have no idea what suffering is!”
The sheer volume of Ron’s words had sent Madam Pomfrey scurrying from her office to see what the trouble was. Now she tried to pull Harry away.
“Come on, he needs to heal.” She seemed to sense the growing antagonism between the two friends.
Angered himself, Harry shouted, “No, of course not! Of course I didn’t suffer! He ra—“ he stopped, finding that he was sobbing brokenly, utterly unable to say that word and make it real. He couldn’t make it true. He hadn’t been ra – . He hadn’t. He sank to the floor, knees giving out. The past week he had spent healing his body. Now he suddenly realised that the big problem would be healing his mind.
And Ron’s mind.
And their friendship.
m_m - you haven\'t reviewed my stuff before, so you might not be familiar with it. I don\'t do quick solutions. Long, drawn out, ridiculously convoluted? Yes, I do those.
WARNING: Same old, same old.
Chapter 2: Dolls of voodoo all stuck with pins
A week later Harry was finally allowed up. The restraints had been removed, and, at long last, he was able to move about and visit the lad lying in the bed next to him – Ron. Oddly, during the previous seven days, Ron hadn’t spoken to Harry, not even as they both lay there bored as the hours slowly passed. The few times Harry had begun a conversation with his friend, Ron had grunted a few words, then feigned sleep. The black haired boy was a little pissed about it, if he was honest. He had done everything he could to protect his friend, and Ron was ignoring him.
He resolved to settle whatever problem there was between them.
“Ron? How are you feeling?”
“Just fucking perfect!” Ron snarled, his marked face evidence of his mistreatment.
Harry felt his face fall. He had protected Ron, or had tried to, but that first attack upon the boy had been vicious. Had it damaged him so much?
“What happened?” he asked, a little unsure of the likely response. He wanted to sit on Ron’s bed, his weakened body not really capable of standing for great lengths, but something in Ron’s attitude kept him from sitting.
“I fucking did everything I could to protect you, Harry, that’s what happened!” Ron’s voice cracked, hysteria clear to hear.
“What? I tried to protect you. They wanted to beat you, and if I said no, they said they’d do it to you. I saw them do it once and I made sure I never refused again.” Harry’s voice held a note of a plea. He wanted Ron to understand how hard Harry had tried to protect his friend – right up until that final moment. Was that what Ron was annoyed about? Had Snape told Ron what Harry had done?
Harry’s stomach twisted. Snape.
Ron gave a sharp bark of mirthless laughter. “No, you’ve got it twisted about. I tried to protect you. They said they wanted you alive to suffer whatever You-Know-Who had planned. I didn’t matter. I could suffer anything and nobody would mind.”
All of Ron’s self-doubts had clearly been reinforced by the Death Eaters’ comments, and Harry silently cursed them for making Ron hate himself.
“If I refused to do what they wanted, they’d take it out on you. They beat you to a bloody pulp and I had to watch. After that I did whatever they wanted.”
Tears trickled from Harry’s eyes and slid slowly down his face. “They tricked us,” he croaked, throat closing with grief, “they tricked us.” He paused, “But I saw you. I saw what they did to you!”
“Through a window? Into a different room?” Ron asked, voice cold and angry. He saw Harry’s nod. “Easy enough to fake. Merlin! What an idiot I was!”
Harry’s green eyes were filled with pain at what he, and Ron, had suffered needlessly. Suddenly the bright hospital seemed far away. Instead he was trapped in a stone room, chained to a wall, whipped, eaten …
“God!” he groaned, “Malfoy…”
Ron’s whole demeanour changed. He shrank, (if that is possible lying on a bed), and his face set into a stony expression. “What about him? He didn’t hurt you.”
Incredulous, Harry turned emerald eyes to Ron. “Didn’t hurt me? The bastard tortured me for five hours!” He shuddered, remembering having to relive those memories for Snape.
The red head snorted. “Five hours? Big fucking deal. That bastard tricked me into taking your punishment the whole time we were captured. He even fucking locked me in a room full of spears. If I’d moved I’d have killed myself. Fucking hours I was in there! I didn’t know if he was ever going to let me out. So don’t tell me you suffered at his hands. You have no idea what suffering is!”
The sheer volume of Ron’s words had sent Madam Pomfrey scurrying from her office to see what the trouble was. Now she tried to pull Harry away.
“Come on, he needs to heal.” She seemed to sense the growing antagonism between the two friends.
Angered himself, Harry shouted, “No, of course not! Of course I didn’t suffer! He ra—“ he stopped, finding that he was sobbing brokenly, utterly unable to say that word and make it real. He couldn’t make it true. He hadn’t been ra – . He hadn’t. He sank to the floor, knees giving out. The past week he had spent healing his body. Now he suddenly realised that the big problem would be healing his mind.
And Ron’s mind.
And their friendship.