Light on the Dark Side of Me

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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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 28: Over and over again

(Day 8)

As it turned out, it had been unnecessary for Snape and Harry to take the anti-aphrodisiac again the following night – the pair never made it to the bed. Both men spent the night in the sitting room curled up on opposite ends of the couch. They talked about almost everything (sports, politics, careers, Hogwarts gossip), while deftly avoiding what needed to be said. As Snape poured himself another glass of scotch, he noticed Harry looked a little peaked.

“You look pale, Potter.”

“I feel like shit,” Harry muttered.

“The shakes and a touch of nausea?” Snape asked.

“Yeah.”

“It’s the withdrawal from the Dreamless Sleep Draught,” Snape observed.

“Didn’t you say you had something for that?”

Snape transfigured the cap of the bottle into another glass, poured a generous amount of scotch into it and handed it to Harry.

“Scotch? Are you serious? This is your miracle cure?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Don’t I wish, Potter,” Snape drawled.

The two set to work on finishing the bottle, while staring silently at the fireplace – the only source of light in the dark room. After about an hour or so, Harry decided to try and spark a conversation.

“I saw you reading that book earlier…the one I got you for Christmas. Is it any good?”

Snape trained his piercing eyes on Harry. “Any good?” he asked disbelievingly. “You have absolutely no idea what you got for me, do you?”

“No,” Harry admitted.

Snape smirked, “Albus does have good taste.”

“Hey!” Harry protested. “But I bought it.”

“So you did and thank you.” Snape said, and then added curiously, “Did he, by any chance, mention where he got it?”

“No. Just that he’s been looking for it for you for years. I can’t believe he let me give it to you.”

“Albus is nothing if not generous.” A short pause. “His gift is a testament to that.” Snape took a deep breath, exhaling sharply in disbelief as he spoke, “I still can’t believe he forced you down here with me.”

“Well he is kooky.”

“That…is putting it mildly,” Snape said.

Feeling emboldened by the scotch, Harry continued, “Can’t he just be so annoying with the whole, ‘have a lemon drop, have some tea, my boy,’ when you’re just thinking ‘I need to tell you something important, damn it.’”

“You can’t even imagine. You’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg, Potter.”

“Speaking of tips, did you see his newest hat?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“The ridiculous neon green one with the red point?” Snape huffed with a smirk.

“Yeah.”

“How could I not? When he wears it you could spot him across the Quidditch pitch. He looks like a homing beacon.”

The pair went on about Dumbledore for a long time and Snape had Harry in stitches. Harry had forgotten how good it felt to laugh!

Snape continued, “Not to mention my biggest pet peeve with the man. His subtle Legilimency. And the way he ‘never’ uses it. How naive does he think I am?”

“Well, to be fair, it can’t just be Legilimency. He obviously has a sixth sense. I think he knew I fancied you before I did.”

“Is that so?” Snape asked curiously.

“Yeah, I had a conversation about it with him at the end of last year.”

“Last year?” Snape asked incredulously, nearly spitting out his beverage.

“Yup. Here, let me show you.” Harry projected the last part of their conversation to Snape. Dumbledore was chuckling and saying, “Well, everyone has their demons to face, Harry…some more than others. But remember, things change and people change, Harry. Perhaps, my boy, in time…”

Snape said nothing.

“Did you ever talk to him about us?” Harry asked.

“Of course! I must have begged him 50 different times to release me from our lessons over the last month.”

“I meant before…when we…” Harry began, stopping suddenly.

“Oh,” Snape said, and coughed uncomfortably, “Yes. After I saw that fantasy of yours.”

“You knew that was about you all along?” Harry asked wide-eyed.

“Of course – it was written all over your face. Have you forgotten you’re a horrible Occlumens?” Snape teased.

“You keep reminding me. So…what happened?”

Snape poured himself another large glass of scotch, took a swig and said, “Oh, what the hell…I might as well…we’re not sleeping anyway.” Snape sent the memory directly to Harry.

.

.

Snape was sitting in Dumbledore’s office, across from the Headmaster.

“How are the lessons going?” Dumbledore asked.

“Fine, Albus, although he is quite inept.”

“And?”

“And I am forced to admit that he is improving, albeit at the speed of a Grindylow on land,” Snape said.

“And?” Dumbledore asked again.

“And his defensive spells are…quite adequate.”

“And?” Dumbledore prodded further.

Damn he knows everything! Snape thought.

.

.

Harry interrupted the memory with his laughter.

“What is so funny?” Snape asked.

“That’s exactly what I think when I talk to him. I didn’t know he drove everyone crazy like that. Sorry…go on.”

.

.

Snape spoke hesitantly to Dumbledore, “There is something else. I don’t know if I should continue with him.”

“Is that so?”

“The boy seems to have developed…an unnatural fascination for me, Albus.”

“Indeed?” Dumbledore asked with a knowing smile.

Snape looked annoyed now. “Really, Albus! Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“What would make you think that, dear boy?” Dumbledore asked with his trademark twinkle. He took an indulgent sip of tea and then spoke again. “Why does it bother you so?”

“What?”

“This fascination, as you call it.”

“It doesn’t. I just thought you should be aware.”

“Then why would you propose putting a stop to the lessons, Severus? You said yourself Harry is improving and that is what is important. Regarding your other point, which seems to be weighing on you quite heavily, I must say, I see no reason for concern. The school rules on this are very clear.”

Snape wasn’t aware of any school rules in this matter but realized that, of course, there had to be some. He had never been in a position where it concerned him before, so he paid no attention to such things.

“Of course, Albus. Perhaps in your next chat with him you could mention them to him, just as a precaution.”

“You misunderstand me, Severus, there is nothing to explain. The rules state that there is nothing that forbids a relationship providing that the student is of age of consent and is of sound mind. And I believe that Harry is both,” Dumbledore said with a glint in his eye.

“I would not be so sure about the latter.”

“Just out of curiosity, Severus, how did you find out about this…fascination?”

“He was unable to block a fantasy he was having about me. Quite adolescent,” Snape scoffed.

“Ohhh…how interesting. Did you tell him you saw this?”

“No. I did not want to embarrass the boy.”

“And why not, Severus? That doesn’t sound very much like you,” Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling brightly. “You’re being awfully protective of him again.”

“Albus, please!” Snape huffed in frustration.

“Perhaps he showed this fantasy to you on purpose. Did you consider that? Perhaps he wants you to know.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous! First of all, he doesn’t possess the ability. But more to the point, the boy’s confused. We’ve been spending all hours of the day together.”

“And that explains it how precisely?”

“It’s a crush, Albus. Granted I’m surprised it’s for me, but the boy is lonely. And between you and me, he’s just discovered that he’s interested in men and he’s obviously being drawn to the first person he believes shares the same preferences – although he’s only guessing there.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I’ve tried my best to keep him confused on that point.”

“Why am I not surprised, Severus?”

“Must you always twinkle so!?” Snape said with exasperation. “It’s just a crush!”

“Of course,” Dumbledore replied in a disbelieving tone.

Snape tried to counter, “Crushes happen, Albus. They mean nothing.”

“Some perhaps. But not all,” Dumbledore said significantly. “I seem to remember a young Slytherin who had a distant and unrequited crush on his Headmaster…”

“Is there a point to this story?” Snape asked.

“Yes. And against all odds, numerable as they were – he found his way back to me,” Dumbledore said fondly. “And now, he does things to make an old man very happy – such as having tea with him in the middle of the night. Are you still so sure that crushes mean nothing, Severus?”

A short silence stretched between the men.

“You knew about that?” Snape asked, with a deceptively serious look on his face.

Dumbledore’s eyes lit up and his face beamed with a wide smile.

Both men started to laugh heartily.

.

.

And suddenly the memory stopped. Harry was in shock. Severus was laughing. Laughing! What in heaven’s name was going on there?

“You had a crush on Dumbledore?” Harry asked incredulously.

“He makes it sound to dramatic,” Snape said dismissively.

“So was it a crush or what?”

Snape sighed and said, “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Harry asked with a puzzled expression on his face. “And now you’re just friends?”

“More than friends,” Snape said.

Harry gulped.

“Not like that, Potter! Stop it. What Albus and I share is not definable by words. He gave me my life back – you cannot ever repay someone for something like that. What we have goes beyond friendship, beyond family. However meddlesome and annoying he might be at times, I love the man dearly.” Snape paused for a moment, and then added. “At least that’s the way I feel about him.”

Harry was quick to jump in, “You’re way too hard on yourself. He loves you – and not just whatever love – the kind of love I’d kill to have.”

“Does he now?” Snape asked with a tone of amusement that belied the seriousness of his words.

“I may not be a Legilimens, but I know love when I see it.”

“Is that so? And what have you seen?”

“That night…the way he looked at you. The way he held you and cared for you after you got back from…you know,” Harry said, his voice trailing off suddenly.

An awkward silence hung between the two men and Snape averted his gaze to the fire. The sudden turn in the conversation had sobered them both up immediately.

After a few minutes, Harry broke the silence with a hesitant voice, “Are you angry that he showed me that?”

No answer came. Harry studied Severus’s face for the answer but it was as impassive as ever.

“Does it upset you that I saw that?”

Silence. Snape’s hard gaze remained trained on the crackling log in the hearth. Harry was disheartened by Severus’s silence, but something told him he had to keep trying to get the man to speak.

“Because I’m glad I saw it…I don’t mean it like that. I mean…I didn’t understand before…what you go through. I couldn’t…” Harry lowered his head and sighed. There was so much he wanted to say; so much he wanted this man to understand. Words would always be inadequate, but they were all he had. “I don’t know how you do it…I…I can’t imagine what you go through and after what happened I—”

Snape couldn’t take anymore. He could hear pity in the boy’s voice and it was too much; he couldn’t bear to hear another word. “Spare me your platitudes, Potter. Save them for someone who gives a damn.”

“But I—”

“This is none of your business. The fact that Albus felt it prudent to toss my…affairs into your mind doesn’t change that fact,” Snape rasped.

“I’m sorry. I just want to talk to you. I wanted to finally get this out in the open between us so…so that—”

“So that what?” Snape snapped with irritation. “How do you imagine this going, Potter? I express my heartfelt regrets to you and all will be forgiven,” Snape snarled angrily. “What an idealistic fool you are!”

Snape then got up, moved to the back corner of the room and returned with a new bottle of scotch, which he promptly opened and began to pour. Harry was staring at him very carefully, trying to remember how many glasses the man had already had.

“How much have you—”

Snape cut Harry off, “Not nearly enough,” and then added bitingly, “And unless you have a death wish, I would encourage you to keep your mouth shut.”

Harry sighed. He was getting really frustrated. He’d thought they were making progress, but apparently he was mistaken. Harry reached over and grabbed the bottle of scotch and noticed Snape’s eyes widen threateningly. Resignedly, Harry poured himself a healthy glass and returned the bottle to the table. Snape studied him for a moment, but then couldn’t help smirking with amusement.

They sat in silence for a long time – exactly how long neither knew – an hour? two? more? – each man descending in his thoughts. Their faces were now difficult to discern in the darkness, as only a faint light was emanating from the embers within the hearth.

Finally Harry broke the silence with a whisper; “I never thanked you for…for staying with me two nights ago after my nightmare.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Snape snapped loudly.

“No! I’m thanking you,” Harry insisted.

“We have had this conversation. I was to blame in the first place. Or have you forgotten?”

“But you stayed. I was scared and you…you comforted me.”

“Comforted you? Hmpff, as if I would know how to do that.”

Another very long silence stretched between them.

Harry’s knew very well that Severus knew how to be comforting. He remembered that moment over two months ago when he had been crying after that painful Occlumency lesson – the way Severus had held him tenderly in his arms and told him everything would be all right. And then Harry remembered what had happened after that. Harry carefully considered his next words. He decided it was long past the time to ask the question that had been burning in his mind for the past two months.

He spoke very deliberately, “Severus…have you forgotten what happened between us? Or do you just want to forget?”

Harry sensed Severus bristle at the question. He had clearly not been expecting it. Harry did not imagine that he would get a response, but Severus answered him a minute later in a low, serious whisper.

“I need to forget.”

“Why?”

“Because things aren’t the same and they never will be.” Uncomfortable with his own honesty, Snape spoke again, this time with his trademark mockery, “I’m sure that saddens you, Potter. After all, I was such a joy to be with after all. And I’m quite the catch, aren’t I?”

Harry could feel the pain buried behind Severus’s sarcastic words. He reached over in the dark and placed his hand on top of the other man’s hand. Severus didn’t move away but said firmly, “Don’t.”

Reluctantly, Harry removed his hand. Snape took a large gulp of scotch and refilled his glass. Harry could sense that Severus was tired. Not to sleep – although Merlin knew he could use some of that – but the man was mentally exhausted. Harry felt much the same way, but it was an odd sensation coming from Severus and even stranger that Harry could sense it. Harry wondered briefly if Severus was sending him the feeling, but he dismissed that idea, forcing himself to examine the other, more alarming possibility. Perhaps Severus was so exhausted, so ‘out of control,’ that he had unknowingly lowered his mental shields. Although Harry had been trying to discern what Severus was thinking, he was no Legilimens, and the fact that he could sense Severus’s state of mind was frightening indeed.

Severus Snape was a strong, unshakable man – but apparently not now. Scared of upsetting Severus further, Harry wanted to end this conversation and go to bed, but a persistent voice told him to press on. ‘Don’t let him turn you away, Harry.’ With Dumbledore’s words ringing heavily in his ears, Harry tried again.

“You know, this isn’t easy for me either,” Harry said gently. “I never imagined I’d be talking to you like this two months later because Dumbledore had the crazy idea to lock us up together.”

No response.

“Does it bother you that I’m here…in the dungeons? I mean, other than me annoying you every ten seconds, does it bother you?”

Silence.

“Tell me the truth.” What are you doing? Harry asked himself, alarmed at the bluntness of his words.

“The truth?” Snape snorted. “As if that’s so simple, Potter.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…it means that I don’t know,” Snape admitted.

“You don’t know if I bother you?” Harry probed.

The sight of you is like heaven and hell all rolled up into one, Snape thought. The fact that you are here with me gives me hope that I am not past redemption, but every time I look at you I can’t stop thinking about it…I can’t get it out of my head…I can’t…

“I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” Harry asked, inadvertently interrupting the man’s thought.

Oh…you have absolutely no idea, Snape huffed mentally.

“I make you remember, don’t I?” Harry pushed. Shut up, Harry, he told himself.

Remember?! Snape thought. ‘Remember’ – as if that word was strong enough. Remembering implied something once forgotten. I’ve never forgotten.

Harry pressed, “You can’t forget it, can you?” Shut up, Harry, shut up!

Which part precisely? Snape thought angrily. Me telling the Dark Lord how I want to rape you…fuck you…own you…mark you? Me coming as I told him?

“It keeps playing in your mind over and over again every time you look at me,” Harry half-asked, half-asserted.

Snape felt everything tightening up inside of him, a deep ache spreading across his chest at the truth of Harry’s words.

Over and over again.

The look of stunned revulsion on your face.

The way He cradled me so tightly in his arms, so intimately, as if I belonged there – reminding me that I am His forever.

That depraved voice, urging, ‘Tell me, Severus. Tell me everything.’

Me telling him…how I want to break you, make you bleed as I take you, as I defile your innocence. That I want to taste your fear, listen to your begging whimpers and then claim you like a whore.

His sick whispers in my ear, ‘Do you feel how hard I am, Severus, from your desires?’

Hard from my desires! MY desires!?

His hands on my flesh, so perversely tender, stroking me to orgasm – extracting so much pleasure out of my pain.

His whispering hiss, ‘Tell me how Harry Potter feels, Severusssss.’

His voice commanding me, ‘Oh yessssss. Come inside Harry, Severusssssss.’

Me coming as I screamed your name, ‘Haaaarrryy…’

Severussssss.

The fear in your eyes afterwards when you thought I was going to rape you right then and there. ‘Do you still want to…know me…Haaaarrryy?’

The fact that I put it there.

Severussssss.

“Severus!” Harry said forcefully, snapping Severus out of his tormented thoughts.

Over and over again.

It took Snape a long moment to realize where he was. And he felt inexplicably grateful for the darkness of the room. He caught his breath and buried the emotions bubbling up inside him as best he could.

A breath escaped Snape’s lips that sounded something like a sob and then he whispered, “Harry, I…”

Harry!

“Harry, I can’t…I don’t know how to tell you this properly. I owe you an apology for…for what I did. Though I won’t belittle you by telling you that I regret you knowing the truth.”

“So you’re glad you told me?” Harry asked with gentle curiosity.

“No…I…I don’t know. I needed you to know. But…” Snape paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I shouldn’t have frightened you the way I did.” Or rather, I shouldn’t have ‘wanted’ to frighten you away like that. “I…I am sorry for…afterwards, the way I made you think that I…that I was going to…going to hurt you…you have every right to hate me for that. And for the rest…” Snape paused and placed his head in his hands. His voice was unsteady as he spoke, “…for the rest, I can’t…I can’t even…”

Harry interrupted, “I don’t hate you, Severus. And you don’t need to be sorry for anything else. The rest is nothing.”

“You’re wrong…it’s everything.” It’s everything.

“No, Severus, it’s not—”

Snape interrupted Harry forcefully. “Don’t!” He took a deep breath and added quietly, “You can’t possibly…you don’t know…” Snape felt his insides twist in revulsion once more as he remembered, as it flashed in his mind – over and over again. Me coming in his arms.

And that was the crux of it really, Snape thought. He had come. However difficult it had been (seemingly impossible) however outside himself he was at that moment (surely the finest bit of acting he had ever performed), he had done it – and he hated himself for it. In small part for having done it, for having come in that monster’s obscenely delicate embrace – but mostly he hated himself for having been able to do it.

And then, didn’t that mean he had had a choice? Was it truly, as Albus had carefully explained to him in the tormented, nearly suicidal days that followed, a violation of his person – a second horrific rape? Despite wanting to believe the elder wizard’s words, he couldn’t quite (yet) compartmentalize the second heinous event that way. And it made that night that he lay comfortably cradled in Voldemort’s arms much more difficult to face than the night he crawled through mud and his own blood towards the monster’s feet.

Two rapes.

The first was horrifying surely, but it occupied a defined space in his mind. It was completely out of his control – however responsible he was for joining the Death Eaters, he had had no control over those hands on his body, no control over the fact that his screaming pleas went unanswered that night. And there was pain…so much pain. And he had certainly not moved past it, but there was a strange comfort in remembering the pain – it reminded him that he was human and as Albus had told him repeatedly, the victim.

But on that other fateful night…there had been no pain. In fact, there was pleasure – not a comfortable pleasure, not the sort of pleasure he wanted to feel again, because it was mentally torturous. But physically, Severus knew, without any uncertainty, that when the Dark Lord had touched his Mark, he had been flooded with the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. Snape closed his eyes, trying to force the memory from his mind.

Those cold hands stroking my cheek, asking seductively, ‘Does your Master know how to give you pleasure, Severusssss?’

And then my voice, confessing to him, ‘Yessssssss. Ohhhh yesssssss,’ through ragged breaths born from crushing pleasure.

And it was truly crushing. But not as crushing as the truth – that part of him enjoyed it. And that was almost too much to bear. Did that make him a monster? And if he was, why did he feel such excruciating guilt – he was almost suffocating in it. He wished he could just stop breathing, because he needed to make it stop. He needed it to be over.

Harry could sense Severus’s anguish. He could literally feel the horrible memories moving through his mind. Harry wanted desperately to reach out and touch him – but he knew that was out of the question. Severus was permitting himself to be vulnerable for the briefest of moments and Harry knew he had to seize on it. It was probably his last chance to get through to the man. Harry summoned his courage by downing the rest of his scotch and spoke.

“Severus…I know you don’t want to talk to me about this, but I need you to answer some questions for me.”

Snape’s whole body froze, his breathing hitched, and he clutched his robe tightly in his fingers. The air in the room suddenly seemed thin and unbreathable to him and he did not answer – he could not. He swallowed hard, attempting to loosen the tightness in his throat.

Harry spoke as gently as he could, ignoring the sudden dampness of his palms and dryness in his mouth. “Please. It’s important.”

Harry discerned a mute nod in the darkness. Snape’s eyes were fixed on the smoldering embers. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but after what he’d put Harry through, he knew he owed the boy the right to ask his questions.

Needing to be sure, Harry continued, “The questions…they are difficult…very difficult. You promise not to be offended?” Harry asked, trying to remain focused over the powerful pounding of his own heart, which he was certain that Severus had to hear.

Snape’s breathing quickened and the now unbearable tightness in his throat made it impossible to speak. But somehow Harry knew he had assented.

Harry took a deep breath and asked in a choked whisper, “Did you ever want to force me?”

Although Harry felt sure he knew the answer, he still felt his whole body grow cold as he asked the question. He felt like his stomach was trying to crawl out of his body and he wondered sympathetically how Severus must be feeling this very second. He only hoped that Severus knew that the question was not meant as an accusation.

Snape snapped his head sharply to look at Harry, his eyes wide at the question, which had clearly stunned him. “Absolutely not…I would never—”

“It’s okay,” Harry interrupted loudly. “You don’t need to say anymore.” A short pause. Harry could hear Severus trying to slow his almost uncontrollable breathing.

“Did you enjoy telling him about forcing me?”

“No. I…it was…” Snape managed, before trailing off, his voice not obeying.

Harry could feel the man trembling next to him. With a sick sense of dread gripping him, Harry asked his last question.

“Did you enjoy his hands on you? I mean I know you…” Harry began, his voice cracking on his last words. Damn it, Harry. Get control of yourself! How is Severus supposed to feel here? “I…I know you…came,” Harry said, that last crucial word barely a whisper. He felt indefinably sick, but forced himself to continue, “But did you want him to…to touch you like that…I mean, afterwards the way you…” Harry stopped again. His voice had given out once more and he did not know how to finish. His mind was remembering the way Severus had so reverently kissed Voldemort’s bony hand, the way his knelt beside him and placed his forehead so intimately on that monster’s thigh, his declaration that he had given himself to him freely and that he was his.

Harry knew he wasn’t explaining himself very well, but he sensed somehow that Severus understood his question. The man remained completely silent, but Harry could see his bowed head shaking with violent denials in the darkness and Harry finally released a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding.

Harry scooted over on the couch, closing the distance between himself and Severus, whose head was still bowed, a veil of black covering his face. Harry reached his hand out and touched the man’s face, gently sweeping the dark soft locks away and tucking them behind his ear. And then Harry leaned in and kissed Severus gently on the cheek, hiding his surprise as his lips contacted warm salty wetness.

Snape flinched slightly at the unexpectedness of Harry’s kiss, but remained silent and still.

Harry spoke, barely inches away from Severus’s face, “Then you need to stop blaming yourself, Severus, because I don’t. I hope you know that I already knew the answers to those questions. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I didn’t. I asked them because…because you don’t seem to know.” Harry fought with all his might to keep his eyes dry – he needed to control his emotions, to be strong for Severus. “I want you to know…You need to know…that I forgive you, Severus – even though there is nothing to forgive. But I know you think you need my forgiveness…and I want you to know that it is yours.”

Harry placed another soft chaste kiss on Severus’s cheek and then moved back to his side of the couch. The pair sat in silence for the remainder of the night, which was already turning into dawn.

There was so much left unsaid between them. So many things that were still too raw to mention, so many things Severus wasn’t ready to speak about. But Harry was determined to be there when he was.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is one of my favorites. And apologies for the long wait.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Your feedback is always appreciated. And to maria joao, if you are serious about the doujinshi, send me an email.

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