Low Man Is Due
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,771
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,771
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Can you strip away so we may start again?
20/08/08 Geez, guys, no reviews for part three chapter eight? Or are you all afraid to make any comment in case I pull a fast one?
Anyway, an update...
Chapter nine: Can you strip away so we may start again?
Harry arrived at Hogwarts and went straight to Dumbledore’s office. He clutched a long piece of parchment and anger was clear on his face.
The old wizard tried to offer him sweets and a drink but he merely slammed his wand hand down on the desk and asked, voice dangerous, “Snape. What did you give him?”
Albus’ blue eyes twinkled. “Give Severus?” he queried.
“Don’t piss me about,” Harry spoke quietly, but there was no mistaking the intensity of his tone, “He’s been a spy for years, what made him break his control and become obsessed with me?”
A shrug was Harry’s answer. “Himself?” Dumbledore chose a strawberry bon bon and popped it into his mouth. Around the toffee he mumbled, “Love is a great force, Harry, one not to be trifled with.”
Fury made Harry’s hand tingle, made sparks fly out of the wand he held. Nearby, Fawkes cawed softly, but the sound did not soothe him. Instead, it fed his anger, making it spiral more. With difficulty he swallowed the curse on the tip of his tongue. “He didn’t act of his own free will. He couldn’t have.” The younger man’s voice was a plea.
Albus lifted a white eyebrow and stared at Harry. “Perhaps it is only that you wish it so.”
Fawkes cawed once more, ruffling his plumage before settling again on his perch.
Jaw clenched, Harry spun on his heel and marched out of the office.
He trod along the familiar corridors, feeling the weight of ages upon him. He couldn’t understand why he had become so very angry in Dumbledore’s office. And if the man himself somehow had the power to affect him, why had it affected Snape for so long and when he was away from the elder wizard?
Even now he could feel the blood pumping through his veins, and the hand about his wand was a tight fist.
Forcing himself to stop his relentless pace along the dark hallways, he loosened his grip and placed the instrument back into his pocket. He let his forehead and aching hand rest against cold granite for long moments, until it began to warm with his own heat. He sighed and moved to a different patch.
Refreshed after several minutes of cool, quiet contemplation, Harry again began moving towards his destination. His pace was steadier and slower now.
Shivering a little, Harry reached the dungeon corridor. He passed the familiar potions classroom, turned a corner that had never existed before Snape’s incarceration and saw the four Aurors standing in position, grim faces scouring the door and hallway for any possible escape or rescue attempt.
“Do you wish to complain about the last letter he sent?” The Auror who asked this looked almost hopeful.
Harry shook his head. “No, I … I need to talk to him.”
He set his jaw, knowing what was coming.
“Is that wise, sir?”
“You were very shaken after your last visit.”
Only the shortest Auror held his peace. He seemed to recognise the determination in Harry’s gaze and stance and realised the futility of arguing with the wizard.
Their eyes met for a brief moment and Harry nodded, grateful for this one silent vote of support.
“I’m going in there,” he said, “And you can either let me, or I contact your boss, have you all suspended for interfering with the fight for the Light, and then I can see him.” Harry paused, trying not to show how much he was bluffing, “Your choice.”
After a silent communication between the four – involving lots of shrugging and head jerks in Harry’s direction – the one who had spoken first again opened his mouth, “Very well. We want it noted that we think this is ill advised, but we can hardly stop you.”
“Thank you.” Either the Aurors missed the sarcasm, or chose to ignore it. It didn’t matter to Harry. He pushed the door (which had been magically unsealed by one of the guards) and he entered the room.
He stared in shock.
Snape lay face down on the floor, one arm flung out under a chair, the other tucked partly under his body. His feet were spread wide and he seemed to be unmoving.
A sense of dread overtaking him, Harry moved closer. He had thought that that final paragraph of Snape’s was just the older man’s way of saying he wouldn’t bother Harry further, not that he would …
The older man just looked so limp lying there, every muscle relaxed in his body. Was this how Harry had looked those final moments before he had faded into his own mind? Afraid to approach, but frightened not to, he moved one slow step closer…
and let out a small sob of relief when he saw a foot twitch and a familiar voice pant, “Got it!”
Awkwardly, Snape stood up, a small glass stopper triumphantly held in his hand. He stilled, his smile fading as he saw Harry standing there.
“Oh. I thought you were an Au… I dropped something.” He was, and it was galling for the man to admit it, babbling.
He forced himself to be quiet. To drink in this, probably his last ever sight of Harry before the other managed to have him locked away in Azkaban.
Harry stood still, awaiting some kind of sign from the older man. Something that would help him know what to do. He knew what it was he wanted to do, but, could he actually go through with it?
Neither man moved.
It was cool in the cell and Harry felt his hands shaking a little. He could feel his fingers starting to lose some feeling in them. He brought one hand then another up to his mouth and blew hot breath on his digits.
Snape eyed the movements hungrily.
Silence.
Long, drawn out silence.
Intense, complicated, long, drawn out silence.
Emotional, intense, complicated, long, drawn out silence.
“So,” Harry said finally, eyes fixed on those deep black ones that had just told him so much, “Where do we go from here?”
END OF PART THREE
Anyway, an update...
Chapter nine: Can you strip away so we may start again?
Harry arrived at Hogwarts and went straight to Dumbledore’s office. He clutched a long piece of parchment and anger was clear on his face.
The old wizard tried to offer him sweets and a drink but he merely slammed his wand hand down on the desk and asked, voice dangerous, “Snape. What did you give him?”
Albus’ blue eyes twinkled. “Give Severus?” he queried.
“Don’t piss me about,” Harry spoke quietly, but there was no mistaking the intensity of his tone, “He’s been a spy for years, what made him break his control and become obsessed with me?”
A shrug was Harry’s answer. “Himself?” Dumbledore chose a strawberry bon bon and popped it into his mouth. Around the toffee he mumbled, “Love is a great force, Harry, one not to be trifled with.”
Fury made Harry’s hand tingle, made sparks fly out of the wand he held. Nearby, Fawkes cawed softly, but the sound did not soothe him. Instead, it fed his anger, making it spiral more. With difficulty he swallowed the curse on the tip of his tongue. “He didn’t act of his own free will. He couldn’t have.” The younger man’s voice was a plea.
Albus lifted a white eyebrow and stared at Harry. “Perhaps it is only that you wish it so.”
Fawkes cawed once more, ruffling his plumage before settling again on his perch.
Jaw clenched, Harry spun on his heel and marched out of the office.
He trod along the familiar corridors, feeling the weight of ages upon him. He couldn’t understand why he had become so very angry in Dumbledore’s office. And if the man himself somehow had the power to affect him, why had it affected Snape for so long and when he was away from the elder wizard?
Even now he could feel the blood pumping through his veins, and the hand about his wand was a tight fist.
Forcing himself to stop his relentless pace along the dark hallways, he loosened his grip and placed the instrument back into his pocket. He let his forehead and aching hand rest against cold granite for long moments, until it began to warm with his own heat. He sighed and moved to a different patch.
Refreshed after several minutes of cool, quiet contemplation, Harry again began moving towards his destination. His pace was steadier and slower now.
Shivering a little, Harry reached the dungeon corridor. He passed the familiar potions classroom, turned a corner that had never existed before Snape’s incarceration and saw the four Aurors standing in position, grim faces scouring the door and hallway for any possible escape or rescue attempt.
“Do you wish to complain about the last letter he sent?” The Auror who asked this looked almost hopeful.
Harry shook his head. “No, I … I need to talk to him.”
He set his jaw, knowing what was coming.
“Is that wise, sir?”
“You were very shaken after your last visit.”
Only the shortest Auror held his peace. He seemed to recognise the determination in Harry’s gaze and stance and realised the futility of arguing with the wizard.
Their eyes met for a brief moment and Harry nodded, grateful for this one silent vote of support.
“I’m going in there,” he said, “And you can either let me, or I contact your boss, have you all suspended for interfering with the fight for the Light, and then I can see him.” Harry paused, trying not to show how much he was bluffing, “Your choice.”
After a silent communication between the four – involving lots of shrugging and head jerks in Harry’s direction – the one who had spoken first again opened his mouth, “Very well. We want it noted that we think this is ill advised, but we can hardly stop you.”
“Thank you.” Either the Aurors missed the sarcasm, or chose to ignore it. It didn’t matter to Harry. He pushed the door (which had been magically unsealed by one of the guards) and he entered the room.
He stared in shock.
Snape lay face down on the floor, one arm flung out under a chair, the other tucked partly under his body. His feet were spread wide and he seemed to be unmoving.
A sense of dread overtaking him, Harry moved closer. He had thought that that final paragraph of Snape’s was just the older man’s way of saying he wouldn’t bother Harry further, not that he would …
The older man just looked so limp lying there, every muscle relaxed in his body. Was this how Harry had looked those final moments before he had faded into his own mind? Afraid to approach, but frightened not to, he moved one slow step closer…
and let out a small sob of relief when he saw a foot twitch and a familiar voice pant, “Got it!”
Awkwardly, Snape stood up, a small glass stopper triumphantly held in his hand. He stilled, his smile fading as he saw Harry standing there.
“Oh. I thought you were an Au… I dropped something.” He was, and it was galling for the man to admit it, babbling.
He forced himself to be quiet. To drink in this, probably his last ever sight of Harry before the other managed to have him locked away in Azkaban.
Harry stood still, awaiting some kind of sign from the older man. Something that would help him know what to do. He knew what it was he wanted to do, but, could he actually go through with it?
Neither man moved.
It was cool in the cell and Harry felt his hands shaking a little. He could feel his fingers starting to lose some feeling in them. He brought one hand then another up to his mouth and blew hot breath on his digits.
Snape eyed the movements hungrily.
Silence.
Long, drawn out silence.
Intense, complicated, long, drawn out silence.
Emotional, intense, complicated, long, drawn out silence.
“So,” Harry said finally, eyes fixed on those deep black ones that had just told him so much, “Where do we go from here?”
END OF PART THREE