The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Seventeen

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Severus woke up to find himself on his side with his chest pressed up against his husband’s back and his arm lazily draped over his waist. The young man’s breathing sounded normal so he guessed he was already awake. Severus began to slowly stroke Harry’s side; beginning with his shoulder then down his leg as far as his arm would go, and then back up again. He slid his hand to the boy’s front and rubbed circles on his stomach, before moving slowly to his chest. Harry was thin and he could feel his ribs. He would try to get him to eat more.

Severus ran his fingers lower until they were touching Harry’s genitals. Unsurprisingly, they were soft. He cupped the balls gently, massaging them. He moved his hand so he could get a better grasp of Harry’s flaccid member. Up and down he went with the slightest pressure. Nothing. The boy didn’t even have a morning erection. Sighing loudly, he rolled onto his back and lifted himself off the bed. He walked into the bathroom to relieve himself, and when he returned, he stopped short in the centre of the room. Harry was sitting up with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed with his hands folded loosely on his lap. His head was lowered and he was apparently staring at the floor. Severus watched him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he should to talk to him.

“Harry,” he said quietly.

Harry didn’t acknowledge him. Severus sighed to himself. No, if he wanted him to respond he’d have to sit next to him. He sat down carefully and placed his right hand on Harry’s thigh. The young man moved only his eyes to the pale hand.

“Harry,” he tried again. “I wish there was something I could do.”

They both knew that Severus was referring to Harry’s lack of excitement.

“Harry.”

Snape lightly touched his cheek to turn his head towards him but Harry tilted his head away. Severus withdrew his hand and placed it back onto Harry’s leg.

“Just let me try,” he whispered.

He lowered himself to the ground and gingerly pulled Harry’s legs apart. The young man leaned back till he was lying down and focused in on the ceiling with his arms limply at his sides. Severus looked at him as he did this and frowned sadly. He was determined though and that feeling was just getting stronger everyday.

Severus caressed his husband’s thighs lightly before slowly leaning over to rain kisses over his belly. He followed the thin trail of hair downwards, kissing and licking until hovering over his main goal. As before, it was unresponsive, but that didn’t detour him from stroking it tenderly or licking the soften flesh. After several minutes had gone by with still no response, Severus glanced up to look at him. Harry had his eyes closed now and his face was completely relaxed. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that the boy was asleep. When Severus sat back on his haunches, Harry rolled over and slid down till his knees hit the floor.

Snape was shocked at the way his young husband calmly went into position, presenting his arse so willingly. Harry rested his head on his folded arms and waited. Severus blinked and his mouth fell open. He abruptly stood up and glared at the kneeling boy. He took a step back and turned towards the bathroom, but stopped short and angrily spun back around. Harry was sitting on the floor with his legs to the side, head lowered. Severus gritted his teeth and folded his arms over chest.

“You know this isn’t just about me,” he said in a stern voice. “I’d like to be able to please my husband.”

There was no response, so Severus turned back to the bathroom.

“Why is that so important to you?”

It was barely a whisper, but Snape had heard it.

“What?” he replied, with a frustrated scowl.

Harry didn’t look up. “I mean you got everything you wanted, so why does it matter?”

Snape quickly responded. “I did not get everything I wanted.”

Harry quietly sighed. “Yes, you did. You wanted me to fulfill your Life-Debt and you got it. You wanted me to marry you and you got it. You wanted a wedding and you got it. You wanted to fuck me and you got it.” He paused briefly then continued. “This isn’t about me. It’s about what you want. You never once considered what I wanted.”

The harsh words hit Severus hard. He opened his mouth to argue, but he could only stand there and watch Harry staring absently at the floor. Unable to speak, Snape turned and slammed the bathroom door. Harry sighed.


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Harry made an appearance at the Gryffindor table for breakfast and sat quietly nibbling on a piece of bacon. He said nothing, merely nodding, shaking his head every once in a while, or shrugging at the few questions he was asked. His two best friends could tell Harry wanted to be left alone for the time being, so they reluctantly complied. There would be enough time later when no one else was around.

After Transfigurations, Professor McGonagall had Harry stay after class. He kept his eyes focused downward.

“Harry,” she began. “I want to apologise for my behaviour yesterday.” Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “I shouldn’t have been so abrupt with you.”

Her young student nodded again. “I’m sorry I was so rude,” he said softly. He thought he heard her sigh.

“Harry, I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but everyone does care about you.” Harry grimaced. “I know this is a hard time for you, but I want you to know that I’m here for you if should you need anything.”

Harry nodded again. “Thank you, Professor.”

She exhaled loudly. “Harry, you are allowed to call me…” She stopped when she saw Harry’s face tighten. She let it go. “You may go now, Harry.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Harry went through the rest of the day, trying to look interested in each one of his lessons, but he hadn’t fooled anyone… it was obvious to everyone that he was miserable. He remained silent and never quite made eye contact, even when he was directly spoken to. The only time he really looked happy was when he knew the day was finally coming to an end.

That evening Harry sat at his new desk going through all the notes Hermione had given him for all the assignments he had missed. He was halfway done when Snape walked in. Harry didn’t even bother to look up. He could sense that Snape wanted to say something to him but instead his husband only poured himself a drink and sat down in front of the fireplace. That night, Severus never laid a hand on him.

A few nights went by before Snape tried again but to no avail. He had decided that if he could not please Harry, he would stop altogether.

The sex had stopped.


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As the week pressed on, Harry felt a slight change within himself. It started as a dull thud in his head and then progressed to his stomach. He hid his discomfort rather well, but he knew he was being watched more intently. Harry began to wonder if this was the effect of the two powers combining.

But was it supposed to hurt?

The days slowly turned into weeks and Severus still hadn’t tried to touch him. That gave Harry some relief. At the end of the second week, the pain in his abdomen had intensified and it was becoming much harder to conceal. He used a mild spell on his trousers to loosen the waistband, but it didn’t help. One day in the double Potion Class, Harry took a chance and glanced up a few times to his husband.

Severus was sweating mildly and it became clear to Harry that he was in some sort of discomfort, as well. Harry surprised himself when he found himself actually concerned for his older husband. He was snapped out of his thoughts however, when Snape yelled at Neville Longbottom. The young wizard was visibly shaking and this seemed to anger Severus even more. Hermione quickly spoke up in defense of her terrified classmate and he turned his anger towards her.

The young witch gasped and Ron immediately stood and screamed at the Potions master, earning himself a week’s detention…along with Neville and Hermione. The tension in the room instantly became unbearable and would’ve exploded had it not been for a loud bellow at the back of the classroom.

“Professor Snape!” It was Professor Dumbledore. “Please see me in my office. Now.”

Severus remained where he was, eyes locked on a certain redhead.

“Now!”

Finally tearing away his hateful glare, he stormed passed Albus and out of the classroom. Harry felt all the accusing eyes boring into him as if it was his fault.

Perhaps it was.


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Snape stopped in front of Dumbledore’s desk, folding his arms defiantly.

“Severus,” Albus began in a no-nonsense voice. “You will tell me exactly what's going on.”

The Potions master said nothing and kept his eyes narrowed.

“Severus,” he warned.

“There’s nothing going on,” he replied flatly.

Albus peered over his moon glasses and arched an eyebrow. Snape remained quiet. Dumbledore exhaled loudly.

“Severus,” he said calmly. “There have been some obvious changes in your behaviour and in young Harry’s. Now, are you going to tell me or do I have to resort to other methods?”

The younger wizard clenched his teeth.


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Harry stood in front of an open window watching the sun slip behind a few dark clouds. Taking in the beauty, his expression relaxed slightly. Suddenly, Harry gasped sharply and dropped down on one knee, clutching his side. The pain had returned in full force. He struggled for breath but his lungs felt constricted. Saliva dripped onto the floor and Harry closed his eyes, trying desperately to inhale. One hand fell to the ground, catching himself before he collapsed. Harry finally was able to take in a large panicking breath which was followed immediately by a head rush.

Harry bent over and tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t faint. He sighed deeply and he could now feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Harry turned sideways and rested against the castle wall. What had just happened? And why?

But inwardly, Harry knew exactly what was happening to him.


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“Severus, stop pacing at once,” Dumbledore ordered.

Professor Snape stopped immediately with his back to him.

“Our powers are diminishing, Albus,” he sighed.

“What?” He paused for a second. “Severus, if I find out that you are forcing that boy…”

Severus spun around. “Why Dumbledore, you were more than willing to encourage that act on the eve of our marriage, why be so noble now?”

Dumbledore actually had the decency to look embarrassed. “We both know the importance of that one night, Severus, as well as the time constrictions. However, for me to encourage it after the bond …”

“I am not a rapist!”

“I apologise, Severus,” he said quietly, but Snape glared at him. Albus sighed. “I did not mean to imply that you were.” He paused. “But you know that in order for the bonding to begin, both partners must be willing,” he stated calmly.

“I know that, Albus,” he spat. “Don’t you think I know that?”

Dumbledore nodded and lowered his gaze to his desk. “Then what’s causing this?”

There was a long pause…long enough to make Albus look up at him. “Severus?” No reply. “There’s something that you're not telling me.”

The Potions master nodded.


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Professor McGonagall found Harry still leaning on the wall.

“Harry, Albus needs to speak with you.”

The young wizard winced. Of course he does. Harry rose to his feet and followed her to Dumbledore's office.

“Red lollypops.”

Minerva motioned up the stairs and Harry climbed, not even noticing that the older witch was not behind him. He sighed loudly then knocked on the heavy doors.

“Enter, Harry,” came Albus’ voice.

Severus was sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk, arms folded. This was going to be bad. Dumbledore waved him forward and Harry timidly approached.

“Yes, sir? You wanted to see me?” he asked, shooting a glance in Snape's direction.

“Yes, Harry. Please sit down.”

Bad indeed.

“Harry, Severus has just been telling me about the …unusual situation the two of you are in.”

“Sir?” he said narrowing his eyes.

Albus looked at him questioningly before continuing. “He tells me that you are having difficulty in…” he stopped. How was he going to phrase this?

A look of comprehension covered Harry’s features. He knew what this was about. He spun around to Snape.

“You told him?” Harry shouted and Severus flinched. “You told him?” he screamed louder. “How could you? You told me not to tell anyone but it’s okay for you to do it? And to him of all people?” he snapped, pointing to Albus.

Snape pressed his lips into a tight thin line.

“Harry,” Dumbledore warned.

“What?” he spat.

Ignoring the boy’s lack of respect, he said calmly, “Harry, he only told me because I demanded that he did so. I only want to help you.”

“What?” Harry sputtered. “Help me? Help me? Ha! What a lie! Where the hell was your help at the trial?” Albus blanched. “Where was your help at the wedding?” He took a step forward and leaned over; fingers sprawled out on top of Dumbledore's desk. “And where the hell was your help on the wedding night?” he hissed.

“I…I...”

“You what?” Harry demanded.

No answer. He scoffed loudly and stood up straight. He glared between the two men.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” And with that, he turned around on his heel.

“Harry!” they both yelled, standing up.

Suddenly, the young wizard cried out as he doubled over. He collapsed to the floor with a thud.

“Harry!”

They rushed over to the unconscious boy.

“Get him to the infirmary!”


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