Light on the Dark Side of Me
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
37,516
Reviews:
236
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
37,516
Reviews:
236
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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.
A horrific nightmare
Title: Light on the Dark Side of Me
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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-
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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 14: A horrific nightmare
That night, Harry prepared for bed excitedly. It was the day before the term’s reading period and he had a four-day weekend ahead of him. He decided he would go to see Snape over the weekend and try to speak with him. He cared deeply about this man, and Harry needed him to know that before he was so easily cast aside.
Harry was only vaguely aware that he was dreaming as a series of images flashed before him. Although he was thankful for the detached awareness which accompanied these sorts of dreams, they were no less disturbing.
-
A group of ten Death Eaters had their gazes trained on their Lord and Master. Voldemort’s blood red eyes were radiating his fury. There was a man in the center of the circle; his head was bent down in a submissive posture. He was speaking, but Harry didn’t know what he was saying. His words, however, did not appear to improve Voldemort’s temperament.
Harry cringed as he felt the power of the Unforgivable when it left Voldemort’s wand. Then suddenly the man was lying on the ground, his thin body contorting itself in impossible ways – his spine bending back unnaturally, as if it might snap in two at any moment.
The muscles in his arms and legs contracted with such force, that it seemed as though his ligaments and tendons were on the verge of being torn from his bones. The man’s eyes, visible through his mask, had rolled back completely into his head; only the whites of his eye’s were visible. A steady stream of saliva was flowing from his mouth. Despite the desperate movements of his body, Harry was vaguely aware that no sound escaped his lips.
Abruptly, the curse was lifted and the man began frantically gasping for air. He would have no respite, however. A nod from Voldemort was all his Death Eaters needed as they swarmed around the helpless man. They began clawing at him, tearing at his robes and flesh. Chaos gave way to organized madness as the Death Eaters took their turn with the man. One by one they undid their robes before stepping into the center of the circle – the methodical brutality of their actions appalled Harry, as they violently raped the now screaming man. His cries made Harry’s blood run cold.
After some time had passed, the sated Death Eaters reformed the original circle. The man was now naked and trembling, but summoned all his remaining strength and used it to crawl unsteadily forward, towards his tormentor. Voldemort sat casually in his chair, a satisfied sneer on his revoltingly sadistic face.
“I do not tolerate incompetence. Do not disappoint me again or I will not be so kind.”
“Of course, my Lord,” the man managed, his voice hoarse, due to his frenzied screams. “Thank you. You are most merciful, my Lord.”
“Take some time to reflect on my words before you return to me, Severus.”
-
Harry started awake. Severus! It was Severus!? Oh please God, let it not be real. Harry ignored the burning pain in his scar as he hurriedly dressed, grabbed his invisibility cloak and made his way down to the dungeons. When he got there, he entered Snape’s quarters and was distressed to find them empty. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry heard the office door open and someone making their way to the sitting room where he was standing.
Harry could tell that Snape did not see him as he entered. His robes were torn and wet, and clung to his body. He was covered in mud and blood – so much blood! – and there was pain etched all over his face. Harry noticed a pronounced and clearly involuntary twitch in his body. Observing him more closely, Harry could see that Snape’s steps were slow and tentative, every movement apparently causing him excruciating pain.
Harry had not moved, but Snape became suddenly aware of his presence – the man’s face clearly betraying the horror he felt at seeing Harry standing there. Only a moment later, Snape’s face became once more impassively opaque.
“What are you doing here?” he managed, his voice still hoarse.
Harry made his way over to Snape slowly. He decided it best to not mention his dream.
“I wanted to see you. What happened? Are you alright? Can I help you?” Harry asked with concern evident in his voice.
“You can help me by leaving.”
“No. You’re bleeding. I’m going to get Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said.
“No!” Snape bellowed, his voice suddenly strong.
“I have to get someone, Professor. You’re not looking good. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore?” Harry offered, this time moving quickly towards the door.
“No. Please don’t!” Snape said, his voice sounding desperate now.
Harry sensed his desperation, and relented. “Well then let me help you.”
Snape instructed Harry to retrieve a box of potions from the mantel. Snape began downing a great deal of them, only some of which Harry recognized. Snape took three vials of a powerful pain reducer, followed by a potion to aid in blood clotting, as well as a blood-replenishing potion. Then he drank a few more that Harry could not identify followed by a strong muscle relaxant and finally two doses of a sedative.
Snape was leaning against his desk, and swaying on his feet as though he was about to fall down. He refused Harry’s requests for him to sit. He began penning a note to someone. At first Harry was about to protest, but realized it was probably a note to Dumbledore letting him know he’d returned. At least Dumbledore would come check on him after Snape described the events of the meeting, Harry thought with relief. Snape flooed the letter to Dumbledore’s office and began making his way towards his bedroom. Harry moved forward, wrapping his arm gently around Snape’s waist in an attempt to help him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Snape asked, annoyed.
“I am helping you to your bed. Please don’t argue with me.”
Snape was apparently too exhausted to argue. With Harry’s help, he staggered to the bed; he flopped onto his stomach, making no effort to remove his bloody and mud stained robes. Harry began removing Snape’s shoes and then covered him with a blanket. He leaned down to ask if there was anything else he could do, but found Snape was already unconscious.
It was an unfamiliar feeling seeing Snape helpless like this. Harry did not like it. He needed to reach out and touch Snape – to reassure him that someone was there, someone who cared. Gently, he touched his cheek, carefully avoiding the bruises on his face. His wanted to move his hand through his hair, but didn’t, as it was matted in places where his blood had dried. He moved away and sat down in a chair in the far corner of the room.
Harry had never been in Snape’s bedroom before and he couldn’t help looking around. Snape’s enormous four-poster bed, on which he now lay, stood directly opposite a roaring hearth. The bed was draped in blue curtains so dark they appeared almost black. The duvet was same blue color, and contrasted sharply with the cream-colored satin sheets and pillows. Harry wondered idly what they would look like in the morning. The bedside tables, dresser and armoire were made of a rich, deeply stained mahogany, and the rug covering the floor was tan with flecks of black. Harry noticed a door in the corner, which he assumed was the bathroom. After his brief survey of the room, Harry’s eyes moved back over to Snape’s unconscious form and waited for him to awaken.
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-
-
-
As Snape woke up, he felt waves of pain shooting through his entire body and his eyes were still too heavy to open. The agony he felt reminded him that last night was not a dream. The horror was real and it was his life. He felt his Mark still burning in his skin, a reminder that he was Voldemort’s property, a reminder that he would have to return again when he was next summoned. The idea of going back to Him, no matter how much time he had before then, made his stomach heave, and he moved his head over the side of his bed and became sick. As he moved back, he noticed Harry sitting in the corner.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Snape snapped.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t just leave you here after…” Harry said, stopping suddenly.
“Why were you here last night?” Snape asked, his voice full of suspicion.
“Uhmm…I uhmm…” Harry started, desperately searching for a plausible answer. Unconsciously, he placed his hand on his forehead and touching his scar, which was still aching painfully.
Snape noticed this gesture immediately, and a knowing look of horror crept into his eyes. Oh no! He didn’t! Please no. “You….YOU…” Snape breathed angrily. A vein on his forehead was throbbing visibly. “What did you see?” he asked savagely.
“Nothing…I…” Harry lied, but faltered, not knowing what to say.
Snape saw straight through Harry’s untruth and didn’t need to hear anymore. With all the energy he could muster, he spat vehemently at him, “Potter, if you breath a single bloody word of what you have seen to anyone, I swear to you that I will inflict horrors so unspeakable upon you that you will beg me to deliver you to the Dark Lord himself for mercy and respite. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”
“Yes, of course. I would never say anything, sir. I…”
“And I never want to hear you mention this to me ever again,” Snape roared.
“Of course, sir.”
“Now get the hell out of my sight,” Snape said forcefully.
Snape watched Harry leave his quarters. Harry knows! He wondered exactly how much Harry had seen in his dream, but Snape remembered the look in Harry’s eyes – a look that said he had seen too much. A lump of humiliation formed in his throat. He reached for his wand and adjusted his wards to exclude everyone, including Harry. After spelling his robes off, he began the task of methodically healing his wounds. At least he had a four-day weekend ahead of him. He certainly needed the time to recover.
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A/N: PLEASE review.
Major thanks to Erin03 for betaing this chapter for me (please thank her for me by reading and reviewing her story, Walking in Hell).
For those of you who thought the last chapter wasn’t angsty enough - I’m sure this qualifies. Poor Severus - I’m so horrible to him.
In the next chapter, ‘And the day after...’ Harry is very worried because he hasn’t seen Snape for 2 days. What will he do?
Please review - I live off of your reviews. I’m currently unemployed, people - I have nothing else to do! - except get job rejections which doesn’t exactly build my self esteem. Please review. Thanks a bunch.
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
-
-
-
Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 14: A horrific nightmare
That night, Harry prepared for bed excitedly. It was the day before the term’s reading period and he had a four-day weekend ahead of him. He decided he would go to see Snape over the weekend and try to speak with him. He cared deeply about this man, and Harry needed him to know that before he was so easily cast aside.
Harry was only vaguely aware that he was dreaming as a series of images flashed before him. Although he was thankful for the detached awareness which accompanied these sorts of dreams, they were no less disturbing.
-
A group of ten Death Eaters had their gazes trained on their Lord and Master. Voldemort’s blood red eyes were radiating his fury. There was a man in the center of the circle; his head was bent down in a submissive posture. He was speaking, but Harry didn’t know what he was saying. His words, however, did not appear to improve Voldemort’s temperament.
Harry cringed as he felt the power of the Unforgivable when it left Voldemort’s wand. Then suddenly the man was lying on the ground, his thin body contorting itself in impossible ways – his spine bending back unnaturally, as if it might snap in two at any moment.
The muscles in his arms and legs contracted with such force, that it seemed as though his ligaments and tendons were on the verge of being torn from his bones. The man’s eyes, visible through his mask, had rolled back completely into his head; only the whites of his eye’s were visible. A steady stream of saliva was flowing from his mouth. Despite the desperate movements of his body, Harry was vaguely aware that no sound escaped his lips.
Abruptly, the curse was lifted and the man began frantically gasping for air. He would have no respite, however. A nod from Voldemort was all his Death Eaters needed as they swarmed around the helpless man. They began clawing at him, tearing at his robes and flesh. Chaos gave way to organized madness as the Death Eaters took their turn with the man. One by one they undid their robes before stepping into the center of the circle – the methodical brutality of their actions appalled Harry, as they violently raped the now screaming man. His cries made Harry’s blood run cold.
After some time had passed, the sated Death Eaters reformed the original circle. The man was now naked and trembling, but summoned all his remaining strength and used it to crawl unsteadily forward, towards his tormentor. Voldemort sat casually in his chair, a satisfied sneer on his revoltingly sadistic face.
“I do not tolerate incompetence. Do not disappoint me again or I will not be so kind.”
“Of course, my Lord,” the man managed, his voice hoarse, due to his frenzied screams. “Thank you. You are most merciful, my Lord.”
“Take some time to reflect on my words before you return to me, Severus.”
-
Harry started awake. Severus! It was Severus!? Oh please God, let it not be real. Harry ignored the burning pain in his scar as he hurriedly dressed, grabbed his invisibility cloak and made his way down to the dungeons. When he got there, he entered Snape’s quarters and was distressed to find them empty. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry heard the office door open and someone making their way to the sitting room where he was standing.
Harry could tell that Snape did not see him as he entered. His robes were torn and wet, and clung to his body. He was covered in mud and blood – so much blood! – and there was pain etched all over his face. Harry noticed a pronounced and clearly involuntary twitch in his body. Observing him more closely, Harry could see that Snape’s steps were slow and tentative, every movement apparently causing him excruciating pain.
Harry had not moved, but Snape became suddenly aware of his presence – the man’s face clearly betraying the horror he felt at seeing Harry standing there. Only a moment later, Snape’s face became once more impassively opaque.
“What are you doing here?” he managed, his voice still hoarse.
Harry made his way over to Snape slowly. He decided it best to not mention his dream.
“I wanted to see you. What happened? Are you alright? Can I help you?” Harry asked with concern evident in his voice.
“You can help me by leaving.”
“No. You’re bleeding. I’m going to get Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said.
“No!” Snape bellowed, his voice suddenly strong.
“I have to get someone, Professor. You’re not looking good. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore?” Harry offered, this time moving quickly towards the door.
“No. Please don’t!” Snape said, his voice sounding desperate now.
Harry sensed his desperation, and relented. “Well then let me help you.”
Snape instructed Harry to retrieve a box of potions from the mantel. Snape began downing a great deal of them, only some of which Harry recognized. Snape took three vials of a powerful pain reducer, followed by a potion to aid in blood clotting, as well as a blood-replenishing potion. Then he drank a few more that Harry could not identify followed by a strong muscle relaxant and finally two doses of a sedative.
Snape was leaning against his desk, and swaying on his feet as though he was about to fall down. He refused Harry’s requests for him to sit. He began penning a note to someone. At first Harry was about to protest, but realized it was probably a note to Dumbledore letting him know he’d returned. At least Dumbledore would come check on him after Snape described the events of the meeting, Harry thought with relief. Snape flooed the letter to Dumbledore’s office and began making his way towards his bedroom. Harry moved forward, wrapping his arm gently around Snape’s waist in an attempt to help him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Snape asked, annoyed.
“I am helping you to your bed. Please don’t argue with me.”
Snape was apparently too exhausted to argue. With Harry’s help, he staggered to the bed; he flopped onto his stomach, making no effort to remove his bloody and mud stained robes. Harry began removing Snape’s shoes and then covered him with a blanket. He leaned down to ask if there was anything else he could do, but found Snape was already unconscious.
It was an unfamiliar feeling seeing Snape helpless like this. Harry did not like it. He needed to reach out and touch Snape – to reassure him that someone was there, someone who cared. Gently, he touched his cheek, carefully avoiding the bruises on his face. His wanted to move his hand through his hair, but didn’t, as it was matted in places where his blood had dried. He moved away and sat down in a chair in the far corner of the room.
Harry had never been in Snape’s bedroom before and he couldn’t help looking around. Snape’s enormous four-poster bed, on which he now lay, stood directly opposite a roaring hearth. The bed was draped in blue curtains so dark they appeared almost black. The duvet was same blue color, and contrasted sharply with the cream-colored satin sheets and pillows. Harry wondered idly what they would look like in the morning. The bedside tables, dresser and armoire were made of a rich, deeply stained mahogany, and the rug covering the floor was tan with flecks of black. Harry noticed a door in the corner, which he assumed was the bathroom. After his brief survey of the room, Harry’s eyes moved back over to Snape’s unconscious form and waited for him to awaken.
-
-
-
-
As Snape woke up, he felt waves of pain shooting through his entire body and his eyes were still too heavy to open. The agony he felt reminded him that last night was not a dream. The horror was real and it was his life. He felt his Mark still burning in his skin, a reminder that he was Voldemort’s property, a reminder that he would have to return again when he was next summoned. The idea of going back to Him, no matter how much time he had before then, made his stomach heave, and he moved his head over the side of his bed and became sick. As he moved back, he noticed Harry sitting in the corner.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Snape snapped.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t just leave you here after…” Harry said, stopping suddenly.
“Why were you here last night?” Snape asked, his voice full of suspicion.
“Uhmm…I uhmm…” Harry started, desperately searching for a plausible answer. Unconsciously, he placed his hand on his forehead and touching his scar, which was still aching painfully.
Snape noticed this gesture immediately, and a knowing look of horror crept into his eyes. Oh no! He didn’t! Please no. “You….YOU…” Snape breathed angrily. A vein on his forehead was throbbing visibly. “What did you see?” he asked savagely.
“Nothing…I…” Harry lied, but faltered, not knowing what to say.
Snape saw straight through Harry’s untruth and didn’t need to hear anymore. With all the energy he could muster, he spat vehemently at him, “Potter, if you breath a single bloody word of what you have seen to anyone, I swear to you that I will inflict horrors so unspeakable upon you that you will beg me to deliver you to the Dark Lord himself for mercy and respite. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”
“Yes, of course. I would never say anything, sir. I…”
“And I never want to hear you mention this to me ever again,” Snape roared.
“Of course, sir.”
“Now get the hell out of my sight,” Snape said forcefully.
Snape watched Harry leave his quarters. Harry knows! He wondered exactly how much Harry had seen in his dream, but Snape remembered the look in Harry’s eyes – a look that said he had seen too much. A lump of humiliation formed in his throat. He reached for his wand and adjusted his wards to exclude everyone, including Harry. After spelling his robes off, he began the task of methodically healing his wounds. At least he had a four-day weekend ahead of him. He certainly needed the time to recover.
---------------------------
A/N: PLEASE review.
Major thanks to Erin03 for betaing this chapter for me (please thank her for me by reading and reviewing her story, Walking in Hell).
For those of you who thought the last chapter wasn’t angsty enough - I’m sure this qualifies. Poor Severus - I’m so horrible to him.
In the next chapter, ‘And the day after...’ Harry is very worried because he hasn’t seen Snape for 2 days. What will he do?
Please review - I live off of your reviews. I’m currently unemployed, people - I have nothing else to do! - except get job rejections which doesn’t exactly build my self esteem. Please review. Thanks a bunch.