Blind Love

CHAPTER 2

This chapter explains the effects of Blind Love and is necessary for the, erm, story (hehe!) There's hardly any slash in this chapter, but the next one is almost ALL slash! Enjoy! :-)





HARRY'S POV



He's given me a detention with him. Normally he gives students to Filch to take care of, but tonight he wants me with him. All my fantasies about this type of situation - where I come to his office to receive punishment and receive so much more, bent over his desk and howling in ecstasy as he pushes his cock up my arse - are all pretty much the same, along those lines. Sometimes he spanks me. Other times he orders me to suck his cock. I'll do anything he asks me to.

Tonight, though, the detention is real. I realise that I have laid aside half an hour before it starts to get ready - I am standing in front of the mirror, looking at my pale face in the glass. I wish I was more attractive. I…I have put on different underwear especially for him. I was in Hermione's dormitory, looking through drawers because she'd asked me to fetch something for her - I can't remember what - and then I saw them. And I had to have them. I've hidden them away, under my bed; I'd be so embarrassed if anyone ever found them - black lace French knickers. I washed them and tried them on, thinking of him as I wiggled in front of a mirror…I just…I just thought they made my arse look good and I feel, despite my messy hair and huge glasses, reasonably sexy. But he will never see them. I don't know why I'm wearing them really. He would probably laugh if we ever even got that far.



END OF HARRY'S POV



At seven he was knocking nervously on Snape's office door, trying to look collected when his heart was hammering inside his chest.

"Enter." His voice is like liquid silk, so smooth, so beautiful…

Harry peered round the door.

"Ah, good. Potter. Come on in then, fool - and sit in this chair."

Harry staggered over to the hard wooden chair Snape had placed before his desk and sat on it. And looked at the floor. If he were to look at Snape anymore, he feared he would do something embarrassing…for Snape had removed his robe, black coat and waistcoat - they were draped unceremoniously over the back of his chair - and was sitting at his desk with the top two buttons of his white shirt open. Harry tried not to stare at him - he had never seen his professor, who was normally so meticulously, properly dressed, looking so…undone.

Well, he looked a mess, really. His hair was out of place; his shirt cuffs were undone also - he looked tense, nervous…only he didn't look messy at all to Harry.



To Harry, he looked incredibly sexy.



His professor put down his quill and regarded him with a weary look, linking his fingers together; resting his elegant hands upon his cluttered desk and looking at them with a pained expression on his face.

Harry sat there uncomfortably, wringing his hands in his lap as he waited for his professor to speak.

Finally, Snape sighed and sat back in his chair.

"Potter…"

Harry's head jerked up in anticipation. Snape was watching him carefully; thoughtfully. He really did look anxious. It was strange.



Harry felt himself starting to blush under Snape's gaze and groaned inwardly. Those eyes, that voice…something about Snape sitting in his office with half his clothes discarded and his hair in a mess was making Harry miserably horny.



He wriggled in his chair, crossing his legs awkwardly in an attempt to hide the rapidly developing bulge in his trousers.



"Sit still! I have a matter to discuss with you… Have you ever considered what will happen in the eventuality that you are unable to defeat the Dark Lord, despite your training?"



Harry's brow furrowed. What was Snape talking to him about this for?



"Er…no…not really. I figured that I wouldn't really know anything about it, seeing as I'd be dead…"

"And that, in itself, does not frighten you?"

"Am I afraid of death? Probably; I don't let myself think about it."

"Think about it now."

Harry did. He tried. But mostly all he could think about was Snape, and how he wished his professor had taken off more clothes…

"Then…well, given the chance, I'd opt to stay alive. Anyone would."

"At any cost?"

"Well, if the choice was a quick death or Voldemort torturing me for the rest of my life than I'd choose th-"

"Yes, yes, but what if it wasn't between those two…possibilities?"



Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.



"What do you know?"

"I have something to tell you."

"What have you done?"

"Don't speak to me in that insolent tone, Potter. Last night I was summoned to the presence of the Dark Lord."

Harry shuddered. His beloved Severus in such danger! Snape mistook the cause of his shudder, however, and continued.

"Precisely. However, in the eventuality that we have just referred to, the Dark Lord offered me a rather interesting proposition."



There was a pause. Until Harry couldn't wait any longer.



"What? What did he offer you?"

There was an even longer and even more uncomfortable pause until Snape decided there was no easy way to break the news to the boy and simply came out with:



"You. In the event that the Dark Lord is victorious, he has offered me…you."



Severus thought it best not to inform Harry that he had actively asked for the Gryffindor. Harry's face was a picture. So this was why his professor had looked to tense from the moment Harry had entered the room. Harry felt like he was going to faint.

"What…what for?"

So naïve. Probably best he stays that way for now.

"As my…servant." Yes, definitely best. Hopefully he will never have to find out what he will actually be kept for.

"Did…did he think I'd agree to this?"

"Not of your own free will, no. But he has a plan to solve that particular…problem, also."



HARRY'S POV



Voldemort has offered Snape me? Oh, sweet Merlin, yes! How wonderful, to belong to him - wait, no - that means I would have failed. We would have lost. It would all be over. Voldemort victorious. And me…and me…belonging to that man whom I love more than breathing…it would almost be worth losing just to belong to him, in any way at all… Oh, what a terrible thing to think!



END OF HARRY'S POV



"Which…which is?"



Snape pushed an open book across the desk to Harry. Harry, fearing he was about to read some horrible description of how he was to be dismembered slowly until he agreed to be Snape's servant, peered over at the scrawling writing.



"Blind…blind l-love?" Oh My God. "What does this mean?" Harry found himself starting to shake. He looked up at Snape with large, fearful eyes - Snape rolled his own eyes and took the book away. He looked remarkably calm, but his hand shook treacherously as he reached out and took the book.



"It's a spell. To be cast on you. By me."

"But…but…" Harry couldn't find the words.

"Only I shall not do it."



What? "What?"



"I shall merely pretend to."



"Oh." Harry was really confused now. He sat back in his chair and wrapped his arms around himself. Snape pulled the book onto his lap.

"Listen. 'Caecus Amora, or Blind Love, renders the recipient totally and utterly enslaved to the spell-caster, instilled with the overwhelming notion that they are madly in love. Under Blind Love, the recipient becomes the willing slave of the caster, motivated to commit any act under their unwavering belief of overpowering love -' this is very long-winded, Potter, so I shall just summarise…under Blind Love, the only thing you see is the person who cast the spell on you. You do not even acknowledge the existence of any other person - they could speak to you, hit you, but you would ignore it - all your thoughts are concentrated on your loved one. Do you follow?"



"No." Harry whispered, unhappily. Snape ignored him and continued.



"You would remember nothing about your life before the spell, except how to do the obvious things like eating, etc. External signs…you would be following your loved one around everywhere, as your Master; all the looks you would give him would be tender and loving and - are you even listening?"

I'm trying to.

"Why…why are you telling me this now?"

Snape sighed in irritation and rolled his eyes.

"Because, Potter, we must be prepared for this. Both yours and my own survival in the event of the Dark Lord's victory depend on this - I am risking my neck to keep you alive."

"How?"

"If anybody works out that the spell I have cast on you was not actually real, we will both be killed instantly."

"Oh. No pressure then." Now Harry really looked miserable.

"So…why…why aren't you going to just cast the proper spell on me?"

"You are destined to kill the Dark Lord. I am to ensure that you do it. Whilst we are acting out our roles to the Dark Lord's inner circle we can be working on plans to defeat him."

"Oh." That seemed to be all he could say at the moment.



"So. Even though you are receiving training at the moment from Professors Flitwick and McGonnagall, I am sure you will agree it is important you make the time to practice with me."

"Practice what?"

"The effects of Blind Love."

"Uh?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter! We can't have you looking at me like that when you're supposed to be in love with me!"

If only you knew…what did he looked like anyway? Harry realised his mouth was hanging open and shut it quickly.



"We will need to practice. Also, and equally as importantly, we will need to practice the counter-curse to Blind Love, so you can mutter it as I cast the spell on you to neutralise its effects. I shall expect you here on Friday night at eight. Go and practice love-struck faces in the mirror before then. You may leave."



Harry got shakily to his feet, nodded and started towards the door. It occurred to him that he should be grateful to Snape for offering him a lifeline should he fail.

But all he could think of at that moment was the fact that there was a possibility he was going to be Snape's slave one day - and a terrible part of him was actually hoping that circumstances would actually come to that.