Blackmail

Chapter Four

Severus glanced around at his new workstation, where he was going to be brewing and researching potions to assist with the Dark Lord’s quest for victory.

But Severus just couldn’t grasp the entirety of the situation. That this was where he was to work now, that he was being blackmailed into working for the enemy, and that Harry was what they were blackmailing him with.

From his past experiences with Voldemort, Severus knew that the Dark Lord had covered everything, any possibilities at escape, any possibilities at contaminating a concoction, and any possibilities at trying to see Harry.

Harry.

Harry shouldn’t have been out of the castle, in potential danger, alone. Harry knew better than that, especially with a potential war brewing and true allegiances beginning to show face.

But then again, this was Voldemort they were dealing with, and as Severus had learnt long ago, that if thy enemy knew of a single weakness, then that enemy had the upper advantage.

And there was no doubting what the weakness was.

For a moment Severus appreciated the depth of Voldemort’s cunning. That having learnt of their relationship, the Dark Lord had been able twist his and Harry’s happiness to benefit his own ideas and ultimate quest for control.

Severus sighed and pulled up a stool to sit on. His dark eyes lazily scanned over the displayed equipment and ingredients. Really it wasn’t much different than brewing potions for Pomfrey and Dumbledore at Hogwarts. The only thing he would have to suffer through would be not having the chance to see Harry whenever he desired.

And his heart filled with guilt.

Compared to what Harry would be going through at the hands of Voldemort on a daily basis, Severus couldn’t even consider his torment to be any sort of suffering. His poor Harry didn’t deserve to be subjected to the Dark Lord’s whims forced into obedience and submission. Harry had been haunted by this evil being since before he was born and hardly ever had the opportunity to feel safe and loved – all thanks to Voldemort. It was just one of the things Severus reminded Harry of every single day they were together, as a couple, as lovers. But now with only Voldemort to implant his own sick and twisted thoughts into Harry’s mind… well, that was what Severus feared the most at the present time.

Severus sighed again before getting up to search through the rest of his room, resigning himself not to think about the damage – physical and psychological – Voldemort could cause his love, his Harry.

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Harry shifted again, moving as far as he could into the corner of the cage that was furthest away from Voldemort. He had figured that a few days had passed since he had been brought to wherever he was, but that was about all that he knew. He didn’t know where Severus was, or what he was doing, and worst of all he didn’t know what Voldemort was going to do with him now that he proved to be an inadequate cocksucker.

After Harry had been dumped in the cold cell in the dungeon, he had drifted in and out of sleep until he had been moved out again. His sleep addled brain had believed he was being taken to see Severus, but when he had fully woken up he understood that it wasn’t Severus they were taking him to see, but rather the Dark Lord.

That was the first time Harry had gotten to see Voldemort’s bedroom, and the cage that he was now kept it. Apparently, Harry had found out, that Voldemort didn’t want him kept in the dungeons like any other prisoner because that was where Severus was apparently working at brewing any number of concoctions for the Dark Lords plans.

Thus was how Harry ended up housed in a cage he could barely stretch his legs out in and tucked away in a corner of Voldemort’s personal bedchambers.

It hadn’t been long since Voldemort had returned from wherever he had gone for the day, and now he was taunting Harry with his presence.

Hours past as Harry remained huddled, rarely moving and Voldemort sitting at his desk writing and reading from a number of large tomes. Out of the windows Harry watched as the sky turned from blue to black and if he looked really hard he could see the pinpricks of light that were the distant stars.

Eventually Voldemort put down his quill and lowered the light of the room with a wave of his hand. He moved around the chambers for a little while longer as Harry did his best to ignore him. Then as Harry had decided to try and get some sleep as well he heard footsteps approach his cage and he looked up to see red eyes peering down at him.

“I think you have had enough time to get used to your new situation so, I believe, it is time that you are shown your place,” Voldemort hissed as he unlocked the cage with another wave of his hand.

Harry remained flat against the back of the cage, refusing to get any closer to the foul man across from him.

Voldemort simply frowned at Harry’s disobedience and removed his wand from the folds of his robe. With a quietly whispered charm Harry was flung from the cage – something that had seemed much safer than uncomfortable now that he was out of it – all the way across the room and onto the massive bed that Voldemort slept in.

Harry flipped himself around to see where Voldemort was and was a little afraid when he found the evil man had already approached the bed and was again glaring down at him. He barely had a chance to blink before the larger body was holding him down. Harry did his best to struggle and break free but he hadn't been given much to eat or drink over the last few days and couldn’t put up much of a fight.

Before long Voldemort had Harry’s hands pinned above his head. “You should have heard Severus this morning,” Harry froze as Voldemort hissed in his ear, “I went down to assess his progress and the only thing he wanted from me was to leave you alone, not to touch you, to harm you or fuck you. But you know what? No matter how much Severus begs, or you fight, I will still get what I want.”

And with that Voldemort reproduced his wand and tied Harry’s wrists to the headboard with thick, coarse rope.

Now that the Dark Lord’s hands were free, he roughly ran them down the lithe body laid out before him and uncompromisingly pulled off those small black boxes keeping the boy from being full exposed.

Harry’s let out a whine and a whimper and screwed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see the hunger that was filling those deep red eyes, leering down at him, devouring him. He struggled with the ropes, wishing that there was some way he could break free and run away from this nightmare, from this pain and this torture. To find Severus and stay secure in his arms for the rest of forever where he knew he would be safe and loved and wouldn’t, couldn’t be hurt.

But then Harry felt a scorching tongue find its way to one of his small perked nipples and begin to lick, and teeth to bite, and it was all very real, in a place where he didn’t want to be, and with a person that he truly hated.

“And you know what, Harry?” he shuddered at how his name sounded on that lipless mouth, “If Severus hadn't begged me to keep my hands to myself, I don’t think I would have even been bothered to remove you from your cage and fuck you.”

From about that moment on Harry blocked out all other thought and anything else that the vile creature on top of him decided to say. He only wished that he could have also blocked out the feel of those scaly fingers mock caressing him and the forked tongue licking over his body, and his entrance being prodded by a hard throbbing erection.

He couldn’t hold back the scream that burst from his lungs when Voldemort entered him, nor could he hold back the guilt that Severus could have heard him, and thus would realise what was happening to him.

Harry had only ever been with Severus before this, and had always thought that he would be the only one, but now he felt like he was betraying him, and in a way he was. If only he was stronger he wouldn’t have believed the ‘vision’, and wouldn’t have been caught, and wouldn’t be subjected to this degradation and humiliation.

But he wasn’t strong and this was how it was.

Voldemort ruthlessly plundered Harry, not holding back, refusing to be gentle. He kept up a steady pace, pinching and biting at random intervals and drinking up the fear and pain that filled the boys face.

Harry did his best to stay quiet but found it to be a hopeless cause when Voldemort decided he wanted to hear those gasps, whimpers and cries, plundering the opening as deep as humanly possible.

Time past - Harry lost track of how long exactly - how much pain he endured and how much noise he made, but eventually Voldemort shuddered, hissed and spilt his burning seed into Harry’s torn opening. Harry couldn’t hold back a few scarce tears when he knew it was finished.

When Voldemort decided on moving again, he used his wand to unhook the rope from the headboard, choosing to keep it firmly bound around the boy’s wrist as further torment, and sent Harry flying back across the room and into his cage that locked automatically upon his re-entry.

Comfortably sated, Voldemort then rolled over onto a non-bloodied part of his bed and promptly fell asleep. As for Harry, bleeding from his wrists, arse and other variously bitten spots, was denied any form of rest, instead guiltily crying for Severus and what his love would think of him now.

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