Low Man Is Due

Hi all, the bunny is in residence, so I am making the most of it to finish this.



Jilliane - you demand an update, and one appears! Happy now? Hmm, I know the answer to that already, as I\'ve no doubt raised yet more questions for you. *sighs* Let the nagging begin!



Visitkarte - "sick"? I was kinda hurt by that, but read the rest of your review and was happy, cos yes, it is about the psychological, rather than the torture that\'s at the start.



Lioncourt - Glad you\'re liking.



Dirty_Darella - Thank you very much for the comments. Praise from you is praise indeed as your stories are awesome! And yes, it is meant to be quite "emotionally powerful", certainly writing this drains me of every feeling I have - not that I had many, being cruel and unusual, as I am. And yes, I have added you to the update list!



Chapter five: All I want from you is forgive me



“This is a bad idea,” a stony faced man said, blocking the other’s way.



At his side, a second, third, and fourth expressionless people stood, their attentions all fixed upon the visitor. Dark circles were under the famous eyes, and the thin face seemed even thinner than normal.



“Is it illegal for me to be here?” Harry asked, voice almost as blank as the Aurors’ faces.



He waited, with complete calm and patience, scouring the four faces for any sign of humanity or weakness. He almost shuddered as he imagined being trapped here with these four… inferi for company. He was dressed in a plain black shirt, with full length sleeves which hid old and new scars from view. His trousers hung loosely from his narrow hips, but despite that, despite the fragility of appearance, there was a hard core of strength and aloofness that the four guards recognised and were slightly disturbed by.



“Is it illegal for me to be here?” Harry repeated, showing no irritation at being kept waiting.



They shared a look between them, knowing the answer to his question and hating to give it.



The one who had spoken first now responded. He wasn’t happy to take on the role of spokesman, but someone had to. “No, sir, it isn’t.” He saw the look of expectation on the younger man’s face and went on, “However, I would most strongly recommend against visiting the prisoner.”



With a curious smile on his lips, Harry said, “Why? Do you fear a relapse on my part? Or perhaps he will force himself upon me and I will be unable to fend him off? Or…” and here his smile turned lascivious, “are you afraid that I will be unable to hold back my passion for him and you will be forced to part us when our desires overwhelm us?”



All four Aurors paled at the suggestion and fell back against the damp stonework. Harry’s sneer and cold words stayed with them long after he had passed through the door into the dungeon apartment: “Once was quite enough, gentlemen, believe me.”



***



“Snape.”



No. This isn’t real. He cannot be here.



I close my eyes and squeeze my lids together. I tell myself that the wetness spilling out is involuntary, just my eyes watering, but I know that it is a lie. He is here; in this prison with me. I cannot comprehend what has brought him here, what spark of insanity has sent him to me. Or is it his sense of vengeance? Does he wish to see me so low?



“Snape.”



My name, repeated in that voice. A voice I have heard in my head a thousand times. In my dreams he has screamed my name as passion swept him up. He has said it softly as I hold him gently and tenderly. He has breathed it as emotion has become too much for him, but I have never, in my dreams or in reality, heard my name in that deadpan tone.



Even though there is no order in that word, in that voice, I am compelled to obey. I have to open my eyes and see him. I want to look at him, consume him with my gaze. Posses him, even if it is only in my mind and with my stare.



***



Harry looked around the cell that trapped Snape and felt satisfaction thrum through his veins. He could remember everything this man had done to him, but oddly, the emotions that went with the torture and painful taking of his virginity were missing. Dulled through overuse, like the knife that slid into his skin with frightening regularity.



He was surprised that he could stand here and watch the other so dispassionately, especially considering his emotions the last time he had beheld this man.



Harry had said the man’s name twice, and seen the tears trace down wrinkled, too loose skin.



“Snape.” This third time held no more irritation than the previous two. Harry felt perfectly at ease to repeat the man’s name a dozen or more times.



Finally the older man opened tear filled eyes. His mouth worked, but it took a few attempts before words came out.



“Harry?” The word was a prayer in the still room. Was disbelief and pain and loss and need and desperate hope and regret and suffering and love and passion all rolled into one.



Their recent past throbbed between them; a third unwelcome presence in their prison.



The silence stretched and shifted, became thick with tension and unsaid accusations.



Snape wanted to say so many things, but how could he say them to this boy – no, man – who stood before him so implacable and alone?



There were two things he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how to do so.



He licked his lips, dark eyes boring into those emerald ones. He wanted to memorise every line on the other man’s face. After he had spoken he doubted Harry would return. He let his hungry eyes roam over those the clothing, remembering the naked form beneath. Harry shifted, wariness in his face as he shifted to cover his body from that intense gaze.



Severus felt tears in his throat as he again licked his lips. His eyes shone with unshed pain, and his hands clenched convulsively into his robes, longing to reach out and touch that isolated man. “Forgive me.”







----



Want to know Harry\'s reaction? Then I need encouraging to write it!



Severus - Oh, sweet Merlin, she\'s grovelling for reviews again!