Rubbish.

A sharp, biting pain just beneath the corner of Severus' jaw woke him slowly and he shifted slightly, tensing when the pain intensified and he felt a weight bearing down on his back. His eyes popped open, but all he could see was his pillow, and his breathing quickened. He could feel knees pressing his wrists into the bed painfully and a body sitting on the small of his back, then fingers wove into his hair and jerked back cruelly, bringing a sting of tears to his eyes.

"Wakey, wakey, Snivellus. I don't have the patience to let you sleep in."

Harry's voice was hard and cold next to his ear and the point of pain blossomed as the knife dug deeper into his fragile flesh.

"Harry..."

The note of pleading he heard in his own voice sickened him and he clamped down on the lingering feelings of the night before. This wasn't Harry, he knew it very well, and to deal with this person as he would with Harry would only get him killed. He listened to the dry snort and then bit the inside of his cheek as he felt the knife-point trail lower, slicing through his skin.

"Don't try that bullshit with me, Snape. I don't know what you gave me to make me act like that last night, but it's worn off and I'm not going to cry and fling myself into your arms today. Understand?"

A bitter laugh wanted to voice its self, but he held back, feeling a deep weariness overwhelm him. This person denied the feelings between them, blaming them on some potion, which is no less than he'd expected. He wanted off this rollercoaster ride of emotions, it wasn't fun and he wasn't sure either of them would survive with their sanity intact.

"What potion do you believe I fed you, Mr. Potter? I know of none that causes the drinker to beg to be fucked."

Agony lanced through him as Harry tore at his hair and pushed the dagger deeper into his neck.

"Fuck you, Snape. I didn't ask for that, I never would unless you gave me something, so don't fucking try to deny it. All I want from you is the way to reverse that magic-binding curse you put on me."

The pain eased slightly and Snape released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Part of him wanted Harry to lose control and kill him, release him from this nightmarish carnival ride so he could possibly find peace. However, that was the selfish bit of him, and the rest of him only longed for the happiness they'd shared the night before. He forced his voice to come as icy as a northern winter as he muttered.

"The only one that can remove it is the caster, Mr. Potter."

Blood trickled hot over his neck as the knife sliced up once more, skating teasingly close to his jugular as Harry hissed into his ear and twisted his hair.

"Wrong answer, Professor. If you think I'm stupid enough to give you your wand and let you start casting anonymous spells at me, then you are even dumber than I thought. Now, are you going to tell me how to reverse the fucking curse, or are you going to let me carve you like a Christmas ham?"

A tremor of fear flickered through Severus' gut at the glee in Harry's voice as he spoke of carving, his heart pounding a mile a moment as he tried to still his own voice.

"Is there a third option, Mr. Potter? I've told you how to reverse the curse, and you already seem to be carving me up."

The dagger trailed up to tickle against his ear and he suppressed a low moan of animal terror, mind flashing images of the knife being shoved deep into his ear canal and twisted. He banished the thoughts with difficulty, and heard Harry chuckle darkly.

"Not as unfeeling as you like to pretend, eh, Professor? Seems the torturer doesn't like being on the other end of the weapon."

The dagger's point slid into his ear and he fought against a scream, wondering how Harry knew what he was thinking, but mostly trying to keep from being sick.

"Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I'll let you live. Otherwise, I'm going to shed so much of your blood and cause you so much unimaginable agony, you'll beg me to end your miserable life."

Snape's stomach lurched and he had to force it back down before he could answer, his voice cracking under the strain of the situation.

"Trust me, Mr. Potter. If there was another way to reverse the curse, I'd tell you. I'm growing sick of your company."

Harry's laughter whistled through his soul like a blizzard, chilling him to the bone as the dagger twisted in his ear, scraping away layers of skin, but not pushing deep enough to cause serious damage.

"Oh, but there is another way to reverse it, isn't there, Snivellus? Come now, prove your worth as a good little Slytherin and tell me the second way to reverse the curse you cast upon me."

Snape exhaled sharply, fighting off the need to shiver and whimper, hoping this was all a nightmare and he would wake in a few moments with the proper Harry curled against him.

"A spell will almost always end once the caster breathes his or her last breath."

Harry purred harshly and removed the knife from his ear, only to reach around and level the wicked point an inch from his right eye, the boy's body pressed against his back and his hand still twisting his hair out by the roots.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Snape. The only question in my mind at this point, is whether to let you die quick and relatively painless, or indulge myself and kill you nice and slow. I'm tempted mightily to tie you up and take my sweet time. Your screams would be the loveliest music to me just now."

Snape couldn't take his gaze from that swaying dagger, watching in horror as it shifted so close he could swear he felt it touching his cornea, then easing back to mock him with hope.

"What, no suggestions? Really, you must have some thoughts on how you'd like to die?"

Severus finally closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch the knife and took a trembling breath, his mind and body dangerously close to surrendering under the weight of the past few weeks and this new, terrifying experience.

"You know what you're going to do, and I won't play games, Mr. Potter."

Harry cursed and it took everything in him not to jerk back when the blade of the dagger sliced through his face from just beneath his eye to his jaw, sending a torrent of hot blood pouring to stain the bed.

"Fucking arrogant, cold-hearted prick! Even when your life is in my hands, you act like you're better than me!"

A stillness seemed to settle over him as the knife slashed, cutting through his left cheek and adding a twin to the cut on his right. The pain seemed far away as Harry sat up and added criss-crossing gashes across his bare back. He kept waiting for the dagger to stab, rather than cut, but after a few more flesh wounds across his shoulder blades, he heard the dagger rattle as it slammed into the wall. He remained still and breathless when he felt Harry's weight removed from him, then heard the boy stumble away from the bed, sobbing and retching noisily.

He listened to the back door slam, then carefully allowed himself to feel the pain, finding it not nearly as devastating as it could have been. He stood on shaky legs and made his way carefully to the bathroom, knowing he was leaving a dark trail of blood behind him. He closed the door and opened the potions cabinet to retrieve one of the healing draughts and a blood-replenishing serum, downing both before he lost the ability to fight off the black waters of unconsciousness. As he was dragged under, he wondered briefly who would greet him when he woke up. The devil, or the angel?