Nights of Gethsemane

I'm in the Snarry Games! Please go read my story: http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snarry_games/252197.html and vote! Also, read the other wonderful stories and vote.

Harry dreamt he was at Hogwarts, trying to find a classroom to take an important examination for which he wasn't prepared. He ran through the empty halls, his footsteps echoing off the bare walls as he checked each room for signs of life. Where was everyone? Even the portraits had vanished and the hallways were dim and dusty as if they hadn't been swept in years.

As he jogged down an empty, dark hallway, he spotted light pouring out from a small crack in a wall. As he stepped closer, he could see that the crack outlined the faint edge of a door where someone had tried to seal it off, plastering over the surface. Cracks in the plaster revealed bits of the door's edges; bright light was seeping from the largest, deepest one.

Harry tore at the plaster, uncovering the small door. The plaster crumbled easily in his hands, turning to dust and littering the floor. He felt around for a doorknob, but there wasn't one to be found, and he focused on revealing the surface instead. When he had thrust all the plaster away, the candles flared, brightening the dark hallway, and revealing runes etched into the stone door. They sprawled across the surface, twisting in strange designs he'd never seen before. He traced the shape of one with a finger before placing his other fingers against the stone and exploring the odd etchings. They felt strangely familiar, like a memory that he couldn't quite reach trying to break through the surface. The runes welcomed his touch, pulsing back against his hand, pouring energy into his fingers as he explored their shapes.

He laid his palm on the door and said, "Alohomora," thrusting his magic into it. The door trembled, the foundations giving off a soft sigh as if it were a living creature. More pin-pricks of light appeared around the edges.

Encouraged, he raised his other hand to the door and placed it beside the first one, digging his fingertips into the runes. "Fragmentus!" The floor shook and dust tumbled down around his head and shoulders. The walls surrounding the door shivered and shifted inwards, trying to cover up the door, but he needed to see what was behind it. He flattened his hands even more against the door to establish more contact. Pressing his palms hard against the stone he yelled again, "Fragmentus!"

The entire castle shook and he tumbled to his knees. New stones appeared in the walls and floor, stretching the hallway and pushing the door further away from him. He crawled on his hands and knees towards the door, determined to open it and see what lay beyond. Suddenly, he sensed a spell racing towards him, and he dove to the side to dodge it...

... and tumbled off the bed, landing in a messy heap on the floor. "Shit!"

“Have you hurt yourself?” Snape asked as he stepped through the bars.

Harry shook off his sleepiness and disentangled himself from the blankets. “I’m fine.” He jumped to his feet and darted to the other end of the cell, keeping his eyes on Snape all the while, waiting for any sudden movement. Instead, Snape simply spelled breakfast on the table before tucking his wand back into his robes. He sat down in his chair and picked up his mug, his back towards Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes in distrust. He crouched close to the floor and inched towards his chair, never taking his eyes from Snape as he slinked towards the table. Snape ignored him, sipping his tea and staring at Harry's empty seat.

His back up against the bed, Harry stood and stepped over to the table. When he glanced down to look at his breakfast, Snape whipped out his wand and shot out a spell. Again dodging before he had a chance to think, Harry dove to the side.

“You bastard!" he shouted as he righted himself and stood expectantly, waiting for another attack.

Snape smirked, and his wand disappeared into folds of black."Eat."

"Are you finished shooting spells at me?" Harry slid into his chair and picked up a sausage, not lifting his eyes from the spot where Snape's wand had vanished.

"Would you believe me if I said 'yes'?" asked Snape with a raised eyebrow.

He didn't have to think about that either. "No."

"There may be hope for you yet."

Harry gulped down his food while watching Snape closely the entire time. It was rather difficult to eat like that, and he stabbed himself in the face with his spoon a few times.

Snape watched Harry eat with a stony expression on his face. When Harry stabbed his cheek for the third time, Snape said, "I didn't think your table manners could deteriorate any further. Do you always intend to eat so haphazardly?"

Harry finished his mouthful of food before replying, "When I'm eating with you, of course I do!"

"Don't be so obvious in your surveillance."

"You know I'm watching you, don't you?"

Snape agreed with his eyebrows and took another sip of his tea.

After Harry had successfully eaten his breakfast without poking himself in the face again, he leaned back in his chair and said, "I've been reading Faustus."

Snape sipped his tea and then asked with a sneer, "Did you understand it or will you need the children's version?"

"Of course not." Harry waved his hand, dismissing Snape's insult. "It's not that hard. Although-" He picked his words carefully, determined not to insult Snape if he interpreted the story correctly. "Faustus is said to be really intelligent. However, he makes a pact with the devil knowing full well it's the devil he's dealing with. If he knew that, then why did he make the pact?"

Snape's expression did not change, his black eyes meeting Harry's without apparent emotion. "The story of Faustus is based on a German legend of which there are many versions. My personal preferences lean towards Goethe's, although I felt it unlikely that you would be able to comprehend that work."

What the hell. He wasn't even reading the right version? Why did Snape have to make everything so difficult? "I know I can understand it."

"Once you finish this version, I will give you the other," Snape said. "There are many reasons offered for why Faustus sold his soul—hubris, the belief that he was already damned; a desire to push knowledge, science, and magic beyond their current limits.... Although in some renditions, Faustus expresses a desire to use his new-found power and intellect for the benefit of his society, ultimately he entered into the deal with the devil solely for his own ambitions."

Snape joined the Death Eaters only to further his own interests? Harry sucked in a breath, suddenly winded as if he had been punched in the gut. He ached with a pain he couldn't quite explain. He always knew Snape was a selfish bastard, but he had not expected him to be so self-absorbed. He'd expected Snape to blame his mistake on the blind hatred of the father who abused him, a past lover who spurned him, or on his desire to payback the Marauders. Revenge made sense. Harry had wanted revenge himself and sometimes, when they tortured him, he fantasised about obliterating them all with Dark Magic; committing horrific acts which faded from his mind once they left him alone. Even the Pureblood bullshit made more sense. At least the fanatics believed that what they were doing would benefit the wizarding world—even if it came at the expense of others. Anything else was better than cold, heartless ambition.

Harry cleaned his plate and pushed back his chair. He didn't bother to hide his disdain as he crossed the room to the sink. "He’d have to be stupid to think that giving his soul to the devil is going to help people."

"I have no doubt that you would agree to a deal with the devil provided that the right circumstances presented themselves," Snape argued.

Harry whirled to face him. "I'd never. Even if Voldemort swore to me that he wouldn't hurt any of my friends ever again and that he'd live in peace with the Muggles, I'd never, ever bargain with him. He'd destroy me, my friends, everything as soon as he thought it would help him." Meeting Snape's eyes, anger flaring inside his chest like a wildfire, Harry clenched his fists and said, "You'd have to be heartless or stupid not to realise he's like that."

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Harry ploughed on. "Look at everyone he's killed! Look at how he treats you! How could you possibly believe someone like that could help you? Maybe he would, as long as you did everything exactly the way he wanted, but you'd be a slave to some cowardly murderer and for what? Knowledge? Are people's lives worth knowing more stupid facts? Power? He'll never let you become more powerful than he is! What's the point? Ambitions? Maybe if your ambition is to spend the rest of your life as a fucking slave!" His hands shaking, his heart trying to jump out of his chest, Harry turned away from Snape. He bent over the sink, splashing cold water on his face to try to calm himself down.

When Snape spoke, he used an even tone as if Harry hadn't yelled at him. "Suppose there was a devil who offered to help you kill the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters. This being would promise to keep your loved ones alive and minimise the risks of the battle so that only your enemies would be killed. All that you would have to do is sacrifice yourself. Would you give over your soul in exchange for the defeat of the Dark Lord and the protection of those you care about?"

"It's a devil. You can't trust them. They always cheat." Harry grabbed the toothpaste and twisted off the lid. He squeezed out a generous amount, a bit too firmly, and overshot the bristles, and toothpaste completely covered the top part of his brush. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

"And if it were possible to make an Unbreakable Vow with a devil so that you knew for a fact that the deal would pass exactly as was intended?" Snape pressed, obviously determined to hear Harry's agreement. "If you forced him, by an inescapable contract, to never harm you or your loved ones as long as you obeyed him?"

Harry shook his head vigorously, his mouth full of toothpaste.

"Why not?" asked Snape. "You would only have to give up your soul for the protection of the entire world. Wouldn't it be selfish to refuse? Don't you wish to be rid of the Dark Lord and end this war?"

Harry spit out the toothpaste and said, “The only way I would ever do that is if I absolutely knew for sure that he couldn't hurt anyone but me. But it’s different, because I’m doing it to help others while Faustus only gave a shit about himself.”

“’The road to hell is paved with good intentions,’” quoted Snape as he cleared away their dishes.

“You don’t think I should?” asked Harry.

Snape shrugged. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t.”

Harry hated these stupid games. Why couldn't Snape just be straightforward like a normal person? “You certainly implied it. If you were me, what would you do?”

“I would not blindly throw my life away for the sake of the wizarding world.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Harry asked testily. He wasn't blindly throwing his life away if it meant Voldemort's defeat. “Just let everyone I love die? Let Voldemort come and kill me? He won’t rest until one of us is dead. You know that.”

“You throw yourself on the sacrificial altar easily, but I wonder how much of your bravado is real.”

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned at him.

Snape rose from his chair and swept over, his black eyes fixed on Harry's. For such a thin man, he wouldn't be nearly half as intimidating as he was without the flowing robes, those predatory eyes, and that deep, dark voice. When he spoke, his words were measured. “As I’ve said, I’ve developed many plans. One of which involves the use of the potion I’ve been brewing for the Dark Lord. I’ve not found a way to surely remove the soul, but I have found a way to kill an individual whilst retaining the bodily processes so that the corpse has the appearance of life. I will feed this potion to you, and inform the Dark Lord that I have successfully removed your soul. I will leave this place, hunt for the Elder Wand, and destroy the rest of the Horcruxes. With the Wand and the help of the Order, I will attack the Dark Lord and force him to possess your body. He would be trapped in your corpse and destroyed with minimal effort. Will you agree to this plan?”

Harry’s stomach clenched and his mouth went dry. He had been prepared to die if necessary, but to hear the plan discussed so clinically as if Snape were reciting the training schedule for the day sent shivers down his spine. His heart pounded with fear, but he knew that he must, if it were the only way. Neither he nor Voldemort would ever rest until one of them had been killed. If this is what it came down to, then so be it. He could not live knowing that others died for his life. He whispered, “Yes.”

“Why delay? It will be considerably easier to procure the Elder Wand if I am free of this place.” Snape strode off, his black robes billowing behind him.

Harry stared after him in confusion, his head spinning. They were doing it right now? He was going to die already? He wanted to call Snape back, but he felt frozen, unable to move his body at all. Snape must be having him on. What if Draco didn’t have possession of the Elder Wand? What if Snape couldn't find the Diadem? Could they even be sure the Horcrux was hidden in the Diadem? It was far too risky. This had to be some sort of test. There was no way Snape was going to kill him now, just like that.

Snape stormed back into the room with a small black bottle clutched in his outstretched right hand. He advanced on Harry, who backed up into the wall.

“If you desire to be rid of the Dark Lord, then drink this,” Snape ordered, his eyes dark and glittering.

“Wait- Don’t-” Harry tried to gather his wits, his mind casting wildly about for anything to delay what was going to happen. “Don’t you need control of the Elder Wand first?”

“It would make my life easier, but it’s not necessary." Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Besides, it will probably be more efficient for me to try to gain control of the Elder Wand if I am free to move as I please.” He uncorked the bottle and pushed the foul-smelling potion under Harry’s nose. “Don't you want the Dark Lord destroyed?”

“I think you should have the Elder Wand first!” Harry argued. This was insane. “What about the rest of the Horcruxes? If you mess this up, he’ll never die!”

“I won’t fail,” Snape said, his eyes matching the conviction in his voice. “You told me you were ready to fight and die. Have you changed your mind? Were those words nothing but bravado just as I knew they would be?”

Surely Snape had more cards up his sleeves than this reckless, suicidal plan. “Isn’t there some other way?” Harry asked as he searched Snape's face for any hint of humour.

“This is the only way if we are to be absolutely certain of his death. You know the prophecy. You know what must be done,” Snape said, watching Harry, his face as expressionless as a Death Eater mask.

"It said one of us had to kill the other, not that I have to die!"

Snape's eyebrows drew in towards each other. "Did I say that? You must defeat him, and this way, we will know for certain that he will die. There is no way he can escape from a dead body. He will be trapped and easy to murder."

“No, no.” Harry shook his head. This was the worst plan he'd ever heard. It would never work. “There must be some other way.”

“Only if you wish to remain in this prison for weeks while more of your friends die pointless, needless deaths.” Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer. A hand shot out, catching Harry's upper arm and pinning it against the wall. He closed the distance between them, his larger body pressing down on Harry’s. In a bitter, sarcastic voice he said, "Drink up, Potter. It's time for you to save the world."

Harry remembered his dream of death and the fear that had surged through him then overwhelmed him now. He shoved Snape away from him as far as he could. “NO!” Escaping, he scurried over to his bed where he pressed himself flat against the wall on the opposite side, staring at Snape who had made no move to stop his escape.

Snape smiled at him. The same dead smile from his dreams. “Do you want all your friends to die? To be hunted and tortured while you remain here and do absolutely nothing to protect them?”

“No! I'm going to fight!”

Snape chuckled. "Don't you love Ginevra? Do you know what Lucius would do to her?"

"Don't you fucking dare," warned Harry.

Snape ignored him. "He loves to torture Blood Traitors. If she is lucky, she will only be raped-"

"SHUT UP!" Harry slashed his hand. If he had a wand, he'd hex the bastard.

Snape took two steps toward the bed, his voice lowered to a rumble. "Each day you wait she is ever more in danger."

"I know that!" He couldn't let her be hurt because of him. He couldn't lose her. The thought of it filled his gut with ice.

"Then be a man!" sneered Snape, showing his crooked, yellow teeth. "Face your destiny!"

Harry jumped to his feet. “You said you had tons of plans! They can’t all involve me dying!”

"Are you afraid of death, Potter?" asked Snape, his face smug as he folded his arms across his chest. "Where's your Gryffindor courage now?"

"Oh, come on! Can't you think of something better? There has to be-"

Snape unfolded his arms and leaned menacingly towards Harry, his eyes squinted and his lips in a sneer. “You’re weak! A coward! Just like your father!”

“I’M NOT WEAK!” yelled Harry, slamming his fists against the wall.

"Then prove it! This is the only sure way to destroy him!" Snape advanced with methodical steps. “You begged me for this information, Potter. Do you see why I withheld it? Because all your words are nothing but empty promises. Because, when it comes down to it, you can't kill yourself to save your friends.”

His breath catching in his throat, Harry insisted in a low chant, "I can. I can."

"Then do it."

"I just thought- I thought-" He thought that Snape would be able to save him. He thought that with Snape helping him, death was a possibility but not a necessity. Was there really no other way? It had been so easy to resign himself to death before, but now that he was forced to face it, terror surged through him. He didn't want to die. He wanted Voldemort destroyed, but he didn't want to die. Not like this. If he was to die, why couldn't he go out fighting? Why poison? He collapsed on the bed, dropping to his knees.

"Did you think you wouldn’t have to live up to your words?" Snape asked in a low voice. "You speak of death so lightly, Potter, but in the end, you lack the courage.”

No. He would do it. This was what he had to do. He had to rid the world of Voldemort. If he didn't, thousands would die. Ginny would die; Ron and Hermione, too. They stood no chance against Voldemort and he had to destroy him. He had to save them.

"Typical Gryffindor. You-"

Harry snapped up his head. "I’ll do it! I’ll take the potion!"

Snape shook his head and re-corked the bottle. "I knew you weren’t ready for this yet. We’ll wait. We’ll wait until you’re ready or better opportunities present themselves. It shouldn't take too long, a few weeks at the most."

He couldn’t wait. The longer he hesitated, the more people would die and the greater the danger to his friends. With each passing hour, the world slipped more and more under Voldemort's control. He’d die if he stayed here—trapped and forever waiting for a better option that may never be found. Already he knew that parts of himself were being stripped away; choices taken from him and tortures committed which he would never be able to forget. To be without his friends, alone and captive in this prison, it was as if he were forever treading water, drowning in loneliness. He held on for now, but he could feel his grip slipping and he didn't know how much longer he could survive. If his choices were death or eternal enslavement, he’d choose death; even by poison. He took a deep breath and asked, "You’re sure? You’re sure you can kill him?"

"Yes." Snape nodded gravely, his black eyes unwavering. "We know his soul will flee the destruction of his body and that he plans to possess yours. He will be destroyed, I swear to you."

"Give it to me," Harry rasped out. All his life he had been preparing for this moment. He couldn’t back out now. This was what he really wanted—Voldemort destroyed even at the expense of his own life. It all came down to, as Dumbledore would say, the choice between what was right and what was easy. To give up now would be to admit defeat to the dark forces in the world. He was stronger than they were and he would take them down any way he could; no matter the consequences. Thousands—millions—of people depended on him and he wouldn't let them down. "I’m ready. I’ll take it."

"No." Snape shook his head. "We'll find another way."

"Give it to me!"

"I know you don't want to do this, Potter." Snape shook his head, his dark hair falling over his shoulders.

"I do. I can." Harry shot to the edge of the bed and held out his hand. "Give it to me."

"No." Snape pressed the potion into the folds of his clothing.

"I'm ready," he assured Snape. "I want this, okay? It's what I want to do. Please, let me drink it."

Snape's eyes, dark in his pale face, never left Harry’s as he stepped forward, retrieved the potion, and pressed it into Harry’s trembling hand. He held onto it even after Harry wrapped his fingers around it as if he were afraid to let it go and allow Harry to drink. A shadow passed over his face and it seemed as though he had changed his mind, but then he abruptly tore his fingers away and took a step back.

Harry stared at the small vial, trying to wrap his mind around what he was about to do. Shit. Was this really the end? The Death Eaters had been right—he was just a child. There were so many things he'd never done and now would never have the chance to do. He couldn’t believe he’d never see Ron and Hermione again. Never tell Ginny he loved her. “Let me- Let me write a note.”

“No. You must play your part until the very end.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “Please, I need to tell them I love them.”

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, his face as cold as the mask he wore in the throne room. “Just drink the potion, you stupid boy.”

With shaking hands, Harry yanked out the cork, threw back his head, and poured the potion into his throat. The smell of sulphur overwhelmed him and his hand shook so hard, he splashed some of the thick, cold potion over his throat and chest. Gagging, trying to keep the potion down, he threw the empty bottle to the side and stared at Snape, his whole body struck with the horror of what he had just done. Almost immediately, a small spot of cold erupted in the pit of his stomach as if he had swallowed an ice cube. The arctic coil slowly unfolded, the bitter chill seeping outwards. This was it. He was dying now. Harry swayed, but caught himself. Despite all his fears, despite the terror of the end, relief flooded through him at the knowledge that it would all be over soon. He was safe now; no one could hurt him ever again. He had loved ones waiting for him. Pushing himself back up onto his knees, he grinned at Snape.

"I can't wait to see Sirius."

It wasn't painful; just cold. A tendril of ice wove down through his abdomen and he doubled at the shock of the iciness, nearly falling off the bed. Snape swept over and grabbed him, pushing him back up onto the bed. Harry buried his hands in Snape’s robes and tilted his head back to see Snape's sallow face. The line between Snape's eyebrows was dark and he gazed down at Harry with eyes filled with something akin to regret.

Harry couldn't resist needling him. "I bet you've dreamed of this since you first saw me, huh?"

Emotions warred in Snape's eyes, but he steadily wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tightly as if his arms could anchor Harry to life. "I don't want this." He bent his head and whispered. "Tell me. Tell me you don't want this."

"I don't," said Harry. "I will. If I have to. But I don't want to." He shuddered as the ice seeped into his lungs and flowed towards his heart. He knew that it was hopeless to protest against what had already come to pass, but still some small part of him refused to believe that this was the end. Any minute now, Snape would save him. Snape would tell him that he had just thought up a better plan; one which would enable Harry to destroy Voldemort without giving up his life. He leaned forward and pressed his face into Snape’s robes. There was so much he wanted to say and do, but the words died on his tongue; somehow meaningless now. He clung to life and to Snape as he froze from the inside out.

"You don't want to die?" asked Snape, his voice low.

"No."

Snape stroked a hand down Harry's back. He bent down his head and whispered, “And you won't. I won't let you.”

"I won't?" It didn't make any sense, not with the ice now seeping out into his limbs. But he was still somehow alive, wasn't he? Even though he felt cold all over.

"You won't die. The potion I gave you was simply a cooling potion with a harmless addition to make it taste foul.”

Harry’s entire body went limp and for a moment he could do nothing but lean helplessly against Snape while relief poured through him. He was alive. Alive. Alive. He breathed deeply, never having enjoyed the sensation of air flowing through his lungs as he did now. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, beating hard as if it were fighting against the cold to restore him to life. His blood flowed hot and thick through his veins and, even though the cooling potion hadn’t left him, he had never felt so warm. He could feel every pore in his skin, every hair on his head, every single internal organ. He had never given much thought to his body and now he marvelled at its intricacies.

Suddenly the realisation of what just happened slammed into him and he pulled himself violently out of Snape’s arms, falling back against the bed. Anger erupted inside of him and he swung a fist at Snape who smoothly dodged away, stepping out of Harry’s reach.

“How could you?” Harry whispered hatefully, glaring up at the dark eyes which watched him without apparent emotion. If he hadn’t been so exhausted by the ordeal, he would’ve leapt out of the bed and chased the bastard down. Fuck.

“It is one thing to speak of self-sacrifice. It is another thing to carry it out,” Snape said evenly.

Harry pressed his hands over his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly and the rise and fall of his chest with every intake and exhalation of breath. For a moment he wondered if he had died and if this was all a dream, but he felt more alive than he ever had before. It was as if some sort of barrier between himself and the world had been stripped away and as if, for the first time in his life, he was truly living. “I thought I was dying!”

“That was the intention,” said Snape with amusement in his voice.

“You fucking bastard,” Harry hissed at him. He closed his eyes and rested against the sheets, concentrating on the pounding beat of his heart. The only other time he had been this keenly aware of his senses had been on the drug.

“I have developed such a potion,” Snape’s voice was deeper this time and Harry opened his eyes to look at him again.

“Do you expect to use it?” he asked as evenly as he could manage.

“It is a last resort."

Harry nodded, understanding what this test had been about. He pushed his anger to the side, determined to prove his high level of maturity to Snape. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t fail you. You know I will do whatever is necessary.”

“As will I,” Snape Summoned the bottle to himself and tucked it into his robes. “You may spend the rest of the day in bed if you so desire, but I have more important things to do.”

“I want to train.” Harry slid off the bed. He strode towards Snape and said, “I understand what you were trying to do, but there’s no need to test me that way anymore. I haven’t come this far to change my mind at the last second. Besides, you said that you probably wouldn’t live through this. If you aren’t willing to die, then why are you helping me?”

“The difference between us, Potter,” Snape explained as he led Harry to the practice room, “is that I am unwilling to sacrifice myself for the benefit of the wizarding world. If I remain in the Dark Lord’s service, it is likely that I will eventually die or end up in Azkaban no matter how skilfully I play my hand. For me, it is a personal matter of freedom and survival.”

Harry tried to focus on his dodging, but it was difficult to do, his mind kept wandering back to Faustus's and Snape's similarities. Snape claimed that he joined and now wanted to leave the Death Eaters solely because it suited his own ambitions, but Harry had trouble believing that was entirely true. From the way Snape spoke with Mulciber about Avery, it sounded as if the three of them had been friends for some time, maybe even before Snape joined the Death Eaters. With fathers who were high in Voldemort's command, Mulciber and Avery would have been expected to join the ranks as well, just as Draco had been compelled to do. Had Snape tagged along, because he was treated with respect, or at least not humiliated? If Snape was friends with Mulciber, when the time came, he'd have to convince Mulciber to abandon Voldemort or fight him, maybe even kill him. Harry hadn't even considered the fact that Snape might have to kill people he cared about in order to have Voldemort destroyed.

Why did Snape become a Death Eater? There had to be more to it than just blind ambition; he refused to believe Snape was that heartless and self-centred. If the Marauders hadn’t picked on him, would he have taken the Mark? Voldemort would’ve never heard about the prophecy and then what would have happened? Harry supposed there was no point in playing ‘what if.’ Even if he had a time turner, he didn’t know what time he should go back to in order to prevent the present from happening. He could go back and stop Snape from overhearing the prophecy and then what? Voldemort might just increase his power and kill Harry’s parents anyway. He could kill Voldemort, but then his parents might’ve never fallen in love while working with the Order and he would've never been born. As much as Harry despised his life sometimes, he had no desire to be blinked out of existence. His parents had died for him to live and their sacrifice could be in vain if he tried to change the past. It was better to focus on the present. He could influence the future.

Harry threw himself into dodging and exhausted himself earlier than usual.

“Can we stop for lunch now?” He paused, ignoring the balls that hit him as he panted for breath.

“May,” said Snape as he sent the balls away. He chained Harry to the floor and left.

Harry lay against the carpet, trying to catch his breath as he waited for Snape to return. When Snape floated the food tray down to him, he gulped his milk and bit into his tuna and grilled cheese sandwiches with relish. He was halfway through the first one when a thought occurred to him and he bolted upright.

“Portraits!” Harry announced to Snape.

Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry. “What are you babbling about?”

“You can’t torture a portrait, can you?” Harry asked. “Or give it Veritaserum or use any form of magic to make it tell you its secrets, right?”

“Apart from the threat of destruction, nothing magical can compel a portrait to speak,” Snape confirmed.

“That’s how you communicate with Hermione and Ron,” Harry guessed excitedly. “They have Phineas Black’s portrait and you took the other from the Headmaster’s office. You could tell Phineas Black not to reveal who he’s working for and I bet he’d keep your secret.”

“And if I didn’t trust him with such an important secret?” asked Snape.

Harry thought. “Maybe you’d turn into a Muggle so he wouldn’t know he was working for you.”

“How would I hide the portrait?”

That was the hard part. “You know more magic, so maybe you know a spell I don’t. Or maybe you hang it up next to a portrait that has a lot of people and one or two of them always hangs out in his frame so that it doesn’t look empty.”

Snape silently ate his sandwich.

“Come on,” Harry said. “Give me a clue!”

Snape placed his sandwich on the plate and smirked at Harry. “In both of these scenarios, you assume the most beneficial person for me to Polyjuice into would be a random Muggle. Who else could I Polyjuice into that would be of benefit?”

Harry frowned as he thought. After several minutes, he finally offered, “Another Death Eater? But if you did that, they would hesitate to kill that person in battle.”

“Who else?” prompted Snape.

"An Order member," guessed Harry, unable to think of anything else. "But that doesn’t make sense, because you would have to hold that person hostage, but you can’t be taking care of two prisoners. And Voldemort would notice the second prisoner." He frowned. "Unless you killed someone from the Order. But you would've had to learn all of the code answers to the questions they'd ask that person before you killed them and that would be impossible. They change the code questions randomly so you’d have no way of knowing what would be asked."

“There are those challenges,” said Snape as he picked up his mug and sipped from it.

Harry sighed. He still hadn’t guessed correctly. He really needed Ron and Hermione to help him with this game. He was rubbish at it.

“Let’s have another contest,” Harry suggested as Snape cleared the dishes. That was one thing at which he wasn’t rubbish.

“Same rules?” asked Snape as he began to clear the furniture.

“Bring back the furniture. In fact, bring more.”

Snape scattered the furniture throughout the room and Summoned the balls to rest around the edges.

“Remember, only Immobulus. You can’t remove the furniture, that’s cheating."

“I don’t need to cheat to win, Potter,” Snape argued as he began his attack.

Harry darted away to gather up some weapons. “I don’t either!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it," said Snape with a smirk Harry could hear even though he couldn't see.

“The only times you didn’t cheat were when I cheated first. Admit it; you’d cheat if you knew you could get away with it. You’re probably cheating right now.” Harry emptied his armful at Snape while he rolled out of the way of Snape’s spells. He paused to hide behind a cabinet. Even though he didn’t intend to win this round, he wanted to give Snape one hell of a fight.

“If I were cheating, I’d have already won."

Harry decided to try and tackle him. It would be much harder than trying to hit him with a ball, but if he did win, it would be a very satisfying victory. He crept behind a sofa, trying to get into a good position from which to launch his attack.

“Stop hiding, Potter. I promise I’ll be gentle,” Snape purred in a very creepy voice.

Harry waited until he heard Snape's soft footsteps approaching before he darted out towards Snape. Snape whirled around and rapidly cast at Harry. Harry realised he wouldn’t be able to tackle Snape this round, so he threw his projectiles and then dove backwards over a recliner.

“I would tell you to use your brains instead of your body, but you are lacking in both.” Snape flushed Harry out from behind the recliner with a quick round of spells.

"I may not be the smartest wizard, but I’m not the ugliest either,” Harry retorted.

"If I had to choose between brains and beauty, I’d select intelligence without a second thought."

"I noticed." Harry half expected Snape to get offended, but the older wizard chuckled instead.

“We may make a Slytherin out of you yet.”

“Ugh. Don’t make threats like that.” Harry bolted out from behind a bookcase. He leapt as soon as Snape cast a spell at him. He grabbed Snape’s shoulders just before the Potions Master quickly cast another spell that hit him square in the chest, and his body went limp. He fell forward onto Snape who stumbled backwards, but managed to hold himself upright, catching Harry in his arms as he did so.

“Finite Incantatem.” Snape righted Harry who scowled as soon as he regained control over his body.

“I almost had you.”

“Believe what you will." He turned away from Harry and restored the room to normalcy. Once he was finished, he looked at Harry expectantly.

“Sit down.” Harry pointed to the couch. Snape did as Harry suggested, his black eyes glittering as he watched Harry. He sat back comfortably, his legs shoulder width apart. Harry hesitantly approached Snape, keeping his eyes fixed on Snape’s groin. He felt nervous again, even though he had done this before and it hadn’t been bad, just boring. He knelt between Snape’s legs and stared at the black cloth before him. He covered up his apprehension with authority.

Harry met Snape’s eyes and coolly said, “I can’t suck it if you don’t take it out.”

“I wasn’t aware you hadn’t mastered buttons,” Snape teased as his fingers hurried to free his cock.

“You’re wearing a million layers of clothing!” Harry retorted.

Snape’s hands paused, hiding the tip of his half-hard cock from Harry’s view. “If you are unable to-”

“I can do it,” Harry declared resolutely, holding onto his determination. He wasn’t going to back out now, he wasn’t a coward. If Snape could give head, then so could he.

Snape removed his hands, revealing his hardening cock and heavy balls. Harry leaned forward and wrapped his hand around the base before he lost his nerve. He used his other hand to pull Snape’s foreskin down and flickered his tongue over the swollen glans. Other than the twitch of his penis, Snape remained still. Harry persevered and sucked Snape into his mouth, bobbing his head over the rapidly swelling length.

He hated it. Why did he wager to do this? He regretted deliberately setting about losing it. Unfortunately, if he refused to give Snape head, he’d be seen as unable to uphold his end of any bargains. He tried to focus on his task, but he grew more displeased with it by the second. Maybe Snape would rather fuck him up the arse. That was a fair trade for a blowjob.

Harry pulled back his head and blurted out, “D’you want to fuck me instead?”

“Are you sure?” Snape asked. Snape’s voice was cool as if he didn’t care either way, but his dick twitched eagerly in Harry’s hand and Harry knew he wanted to.

Harry hid his smile and released Snape’s dick. “Yeah.” He shrugged as if it didn't matter to him. "Sure, why not?"

“Very well.” Snape stood, tucking himself back in his trousers. “But first, take a shower.”

Harry sniffed his armpits. He didn’t think he smelled, but he probably did need to wash himself. He stood and headed down to the bathroom.

“What are some of your other plans?”

“Based on your reaction to the earlier revelation-”

“I’m not going to back out if I have to die,” Harry assured him as he jumped into the tub. “It just had too many flaws. You don’t have the Elder Wand and we don’t know where the Diadem is. What if Voldemort had gone to get the Diadem first? If you had the Elder Wand, knew the exact location of the last two Horcruxes, and had a plan to destroy them at the same time, then I wouldn’t have hesitated so much. Please tell me the rest of your plans are more thought through.”

“Of course,” Snape bristled. “I was merely testing your resolve. If I did intend to select such a course of action I would ensure that he would have no choice but to possess your body. I would also only implement that plan if I could be sure that your body would be destroyed immediately after he entered it.”

“What will you do if he gets control of the Elder Wand? What if he already has control?” Harry asked as he soaped up his legs.

“I am not concerned about that possibility. It would be considered the same as if anyone other than myself had control of the Wand.”

“But he could use it to destroy my soul and possess me,” Harry pointed out.

“There’s no known spell that will destroy a soul and yet leave the corpse alive. The Killing Curse will stop your heart and your brain waves in addition to the removal of your soul,” Snape explained. “The Muggles have devices that they use to keep the body alive long after the soul has left, but the wizarding world has no equivalent due to lack of necessity.”

"Wait, didn't you say that the potion you pretended to give me this morning did just that?" Harry frowned as he looked over at Snape.

"That potion kills the body while maintaining the illusion of life. There are no spells or potions to maintain the body after the mind and soul have gone. Inferi are the closest and yet it is very obvious, even to the casual observer, that they do not truly live." Snape paused and ran his finger over his mouth as he thought. “I suppose I could develop potions and spells to sustain the body rather than merely giving the appearance of life. If I gave you these potions and he cast the Killing Curse on you, your soul would be destroyed, yet your body would linger as long as the spells and potions were maintained. Theoretically, he could keep you as a shell, an empty body to possess should something happen to his other body. It has never been done before however.”

Harry shivered in the heat of the hot shower. The idea of his body being kept alive for Voldemort’s use was horrific to think about. “Don’t tell me that’s your new number one plan.”

“No.” Snape shook his head. “You’re of more use to me alive.”

“What if he has another Horcrux that we don’t know about?” Harry tilted back his head to rinse out the shampoo.

“It is highly unlikely that there exists a Horcrux of which only he is aware. However-”

"How do you know?" Harry interrupted.

"As you know, seven is a magically auspicious number. The Dark Lord hoped to create seven in order to avoid several of the side effects that come from each Horcrux creation. In order to create a Horcrux, one must cast extremely Dark Magic which fragments the soul. With each fragmentation, the wizard risks loosing his 'main' soul. Furthermore, his grasp on magic deteriorates, becoming more and more unstable. It is amazing that the Dark Lord's magic works as well as it does now, much less that he exists 'intact'."

"But Dumbledore said his magic wasn't affected."

"I have spent longer in the Dark Lord's company than in the Headmaster's. His spells are not as powerful as they used to be and more erratic in their effects. He appears to even suffer the misfortune of accidentally casting spells. Of course, the Dark Lord has always been incredibly powerful and even this decrease in ability does not stop him from being a formidable opponent..." Snape's right hand drifted towards his left arm before he caught himself. "However, I have not dismissed the existence of Horcruxes of which I am unaware as an impossibility, and that is why I’d prefer to keep you alive, if possible."

The way Snape said ‘if possible’ made Harry suspect that it wasn’t likely. The last thing Harry wanted to reflect on before sex was death, so he changed the subject. “For our next contest, I want to try something a bit different.”

“Giving up already?” asked Snape with a smug expression on his face.

“You wish,” Harry shot back. “I’ve proven I can kick your arse.”

“Hardly. You’ve yet to win during a direct attack.”

“And creating invisible shields to trap me is a direct attack? I want to have a contest of stealth.” Harry jumped out of the tub and snatched a towel off the rack. “You’ll spell all the furniture black and set it up like an obstacle course. I’ll wear my clothes and we’ll sneak around and try to catch each other.”

“I prefer a challenge. That won’t be much of one at all.” Snape stood and opened the potions cabinet with a wave of his hand. He removed the muscle potion and closed the cabinet.

Harry stretched the towel out on the rug and sat down. He held out his hand to Snape. “You won’t be allowed to use any form of magic at all.”

Snape placed the potion in Harry’s outstretched hand. “And how are we to be sure who spotted the other first?”

“You literally have to catch me,” Harry said as he drizzled the potion over his legs and across his abdomen before handing the bottle back to Snape over his shoulder. “If we see each other at the same time, then it’s a tie. You’d have to put a lot of items in the room so we can sneak around and get close to each other without being seen.”

Snape’s potion-warmed hands began to massage the tension out of Harry’s shoulders with hard, deep strokes. “Perhaps I will blindfold myself to make the contest more equal.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” warned Harry as he pressed back against Snape’s hands. “I learned how to be quiet when I didn’t want to get caught. I could steal food from the fridge with Uncle Vernon in the next room. But if you want to blindfold yourself, go ahead. I’ll never get tired of getting blowjobs.”

Snape's hands drifted lower. “Lie on your stomach.”

Harry stretched out on the rug. Snape drizzled the potion down Harry’s spine, then set the bottle to the side. He bent over Harry and began to work his way slowly down Harry’s back. Harry closed his eyes, his body going limp as his penis hardened. He had thought that Snape was just going to stretch him out and stick it in, but he wasn’t going to object. If Snape was going to give him a massage every time, he’d lose on purpose more often.

Snape's hands passed over Harry's buttocks and travelled down his legs. He pressed his thumbs into the pads of Harry's feet before he rolled each toe in his fingers. It was heavenly. Yes, Harry would definitely have to lose more often. Snape slowly worked his way back up Harry's body, this time lingering over Harry's upper thighs. Harry spread his legs to give him greater access. Snape teasingly ran a finger down Harry's crack, skipping his hole and stopping before he reached his balls. Harry shivered at the caress, his breath catching in his throat as Snape pressed his finger into the skin just above Harry's testicles and rolled it around in small circles.

Snape shifted slightly and then slid his finger up and down the sensitive strip of flesh between Harry's pucker and his balls. Harry grabbed the towel as the exploring digit inched its way closer to his hole with each stroke. He had become so used to the tingle of the potion seeping into his skin that he usually ignored it, but when Snape's finger flickered over his pucker, it was if a bolt of harmless electrical energy surged through his arse, heading straight towards his dick.

"Oh!"

Snape's finger returned and lingered over his pucker, moving in slow teasing circles. Harry moaned softly as the tingling sensation faded. He had expected sex in the bed, but here was fine too. He frotted his rapidly hardening dick restlessly against the towel as Snape's fingers drifted lower and lightly rubbed his balls.

Abruptly, Snape stood and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. "Lay two towels on the bed," he instructed Harry in a smooth, cool voice.

Harry sprung into action. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the heavy bob of his prick, and yanked the two other towels off the rack. "Lengthwise or crosswise?" he asked, filling his voice with fake coolness; pretending, like Snape, that he didn't care a wit about what was going to happen.

"Lengthwise," Snape answered, busy soaping his hands.

Harry forced himself to walk casually. He stepped through the open bars and stretched out the towels on the bed before carefully climbing on top of them. Snape entered the cell and began to systemically undress. His movements were slow and methodical as he undid the multitude of buttons, each popping and revealing more and more of his well-hidden body. It seemed almost like a strip tease or a response to a dare. As he undressed, Snape would periodically glance over at Harry as if checking to make sure he was still paying attention to the show.

Harry sat cross-legged on the bed and grew harder by the second as he followed Snape's movements. The anticipation of what was to come was an aphrodisiac almost as powerful as the potion. After Snape had finally stripped off his y-fronts, folded it, and placed it on Harry's chair with the other articles of clothing, he stepped over to the bed, his half-erect cock bobbing as he walked. He paused by the side of the bed and his eyes roamed over Harry, hungrily taking him in as if he were a batch of newly discovered and forbidden potion supplies.

The look of appraisal sent shivers down Harry's spine and he uncurled his legs, leant back on his hands, and waited for Snape to begin.