Nights of Gethsemane

Harry watched Snape undress, and when he was finished, Harry asked, “What do-”

Snape swooped down on him, pressing his mouth against Harry’s in a fierce kiss as he shoved him back on the bed. Harry gasped in surprise and, as soon as he opened his mouth, Snape’s tongue invaded. For a moment, Harry could do nothing but lie helplessly against the bed in shock as Snape’s tongue plundered his mouth with surprising ferocity. It wasn’t anything like the soft, romantic kisses he had shared with Ginny. This was all fire and hungry passion, as if Snape was trying to consume him. Snape’s black eyes bore into his and never had Harry seen them so heated. The raw lust he saw burning in those depths contrasted sharply with the cold darkness he had always seen before.

Never had he felt so wanted, needed, desired. It would’ve scared him before, but now it inflamed him. He grabbed Snape’s shoulders and returned the kiss with equal ferocity, meeting Snape’s tongue with his own. Snape was a firestorm, burning out of control and consuming everything in walls of flames.

Harry could hardly breathe, Snape's huge nose squashing his, as he desperately tried to keep up with Snape’s fevered kisses and soft bites. Snape was a rip current dragging him further out to sea, but somehow losing control no longer frightened him. Snape's iron self-control had melted, revealing the force of his passion. Revelling in Snape's fierce desire, Harry gave in to his own needs and wants. He discarded his fears and his inhibitions and yielded to the arousal coiling in his belly. The worry surrounding sex that had gripped him a month ago was a mere memory, a feeling so faint it was almost as if it belonged to someone else.

Snape gave a low growl and tightened his grip on Harry’s upper arms. He released Harry’s mouth and covered Harry’s neck and shoulders with nips and hard kisses. His silky, soft hair slid over Harry's body as he tasted Harry’s skin as if it were a feast laid out before a starving man. He shifted his body, pressing their dicks together. Harry moaned as he thrust his hips, rubbing their hard lengths against each other.

Snape’s tongue slid over Harry’s ear as he ground his hips down. He closed his teeth over the lobe, sucking hard on the small bit of flesh.

Holy shit, that felt fucking fantastic! It seemed impossible to believe that there were sensitive parts of his body he hadn't known about. Even though he had had sex with Snape for weeks, what they were doing now was completely different. Maybe it was the near-death experience; maybe it was how Snape touched, kissed, and tasted him all over as if he wanted, needed Harry; but this was explosive. They had just begun and already his prick spit out precum furiously, demanding release.

“Move, Snape!” pleaded Harry, trying to get the heavy Potions Master to move his hips faster. Snape ignored him and licked down the side of Harry’s neck instead, his hips rolling ever so slowly, stimulating Harry enough to keep him interested but not enough to get anywhere.

“Faster!” Harry thrust his hips as best he could. “Move faster!”

Snape rolled to the side, letting Harry’s trapped prick spring free. Immediately Harry snaked a hand down to grab his cock, but Snape caught his hands and pinned them together above his head.

"Not yet," he said in a breathless tone, his fiery eyes darting over Harry's body as if he couldn't decide where to put his mouth next. Harry wanted Snape's hands and mouth all over his body, exploring, caressing, kissing, and licking him everywhere as long as Snape didn't stop looking at him with that hunger.

Placing his left hand over Harry's wrists, Snape's right hand darted down to curl around Harry’s weeping cock and stroked him in slow, loose strokes. His dark eyes watched his hand’s languid movements as if he were observing a potion brew.

“Harder, grip it harder!” Harry demanded through gritted teeth, shoving his hips to press his cock up against Snape’s hand.

Snape’s fingers tightened around Harry’s dripping length in response and Harry gasped, arching his back and thrusting into Snape’s tight grasp. His balls tightened and the familiar tingling pressure in his groin grew more urgent. Harry shot towards orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut and his hips pumping wildly into Snape's firm stroking grip. Groans escaped his throat as the feel of Snape's hand around his cock made all coherent thought flee his brain.

Cool air suddenly hit Harry's cock as Snape's warm fingers left his penis.

"Huh?" asked Harry before his brain kicked in. Oh yeah, sex. They were going to have sex. He shifted to spread his legs, ready to be fucked.

Snape threw one leg over Harry's, holding him firmly against the bed. He released Harry's hands and said, "Hold still."

"Hold still?" asked Harry, his brow furrowing. How was Snape supposed to fuck him like this? He pushed himself up on his elbows.

Snape placed his left hand on Harry's chest and pushed him back down. He curled the fingers of his right hand around Harry's penis once again. His dark, heated eyes fixed on Harry's, he said, "I won," his low velvet voice sending shivers down Harry's spine. In the same dangerously luxurious tone, he added, "I’ll do what I want." He pressed his thumb hard against Harry’s precum-slicked glans and rolled it around in slow circles.

"Nnnh!!" Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he shook with pleasure as Snape resumed the rhythmic slide over his cock. If Snape expected him to lie there passively, he was going about it in all the wrong ways. Not that he was complaining. If Snape wanted to pin him against the bed and wank him, he certainly wasn't going to tell him to stop.

Snape’s hot mouth returned to Harry’s neck, and he licked and kissed his way down the side. His long, spidery fingers pumped Harry’s shaft with agonisingly slow movements, tight enough to move the foreskin, but too loose to push Harry closer to orgasm. He mouthed and nipped Harry’s breastbone for far too long and Harry grew more and more frustrated by the lack of progress by the second. At last, his patience broke and he shifted upwards, placing his left nipple under Snape's mouth. Snape obliged, flickering his tongue lightly over it before giving his careful attention to the other.

"Oh yessss," Harry hissed through gritted teeth as Snape closed his mouth around Harry’s left nipple. He sucked hard, his tongue teasing the tip. Harry gripped the sheets, pressing his chest up against that skilled mouth and tongue.

Just as Harry grew close to orgasm again, Snape released his cock, his fingers drifting down to tease Harry's balls. Harry groaned in frustration and Snape tossed back his hair, his eyes meeting Harry's. "Patience," he said with a smirk.

"Fuck patience." Harry reached for Snape's cock, but Snape pushed his hand away.

"Trust me on this," said Snape as he pressed Harry's hand back down against the bed.

Harry lost track of time, unable to focus on anything but the ache in his balls and his throbbing dick as Snape built his arousal, bringing him maddeningly close to orgasm only to back off time and time again. To be held at that point; close to coming but not yet there, felt so amazing it was almost surreal. However, as time stretched on, Snape's hand kept slowing at the wrong time, drifting away from Harry's impatient and dripping cock to explore the rest of his body, Harry needed release as he never had before. At that point, he was ready to agree and give Snape head again as long as he brought him to orgasm.

He grabbed Snape's upper arm in a tight grip and growled through bared teeth, "Fuck me. Now."

Snape shifted his left hand to the back of Harry’s head. Nails scratched his scalp as Snape bent to catch his mouth in a wild kiss. Long fingers clamped around his cock, finally giving him the pressure he needed. Snape pumped his arm faster, his tongue ravaging Harry’s slack mouth. Harry gripped him all the more tightly, panting into the sloppy kiss. So close. Too close to do anything but hold onto Snape as he raced towards the precipice.

Snape's hand gave a half-twist up and over the too-sensitive head and that was all it took. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and his body shot upward as tight as an archer's drawn bow, ecstasy crashing through him, dragging him along on a wild ride. Come burst pulsing from his prick, coating his stomach and chest in hot, creamy-white, wet strands. He shook all over, barely able to breathe, while release flooded him. Bloody hell. It was like a million doses of the drug. When he could finally breathe again and the pounding of blood in his ears quieted, he opened his eyes, taking huge gulps of air as his heart beat slowly returned to normal.

Snape wore a look of self-satisfaction, watching Harry through half-lidded eyes. "Much better, hm?" he asked, his voice rough.

Floating on a cloud of bliss, Harry was too dazed to do anything but nod as he lay there, gasping for breath. His body was limp, as if the bone-removing spell Lockhart had used on his arm had been cast on his entire body. Through his haze he caught a glimpse of Snape's cock and saw that he hadn’t got off. Snape was still hard, his penis swollen and red. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and his eyes heated, but otherwise, he held himself as if he didn't care that he had a raging hard-on. Harry knew, despite his act of nonchalance, that he desperately wanted to come. It was a bit unfair that he hadn't, especially after he'd just given Harry the most earth-shattering orgasm he'd ever experienced.

Harry reached for Snape’s swollen penis. Snape batted his hand away, as if he found the offer offensive. He hooked his hands under Harry’s armpits and lifted him up, scooting him farther up on the bed. Harry lay there like a rag doll as Snape manipulated his limbs and positioned himself between Harry’s legs. He pushed Harry’s legs apart and up towards his chest.

“Hold these,” he ordered in a clipped tone as he stared down at Harry with intense concentration. He looked as if he were about to demonstrate to a class how to brew a potion, not about to fuck Harry into the bed.

Harry hooked his hands under his knees and held his legs apart, waiting for the all too familiar ritual of fingering to begin.

Snape rolled his fingers in Harry’s semen, cast the cleaning spell, and then pushed a finger inside without lube. Harry was so relaxed, his body put up no resistance and it slid in easily. Snape removed his finger and added a second, thrusting them both in without giving him a chance to adjust. He didn't need to be slowly fingered open anyway. Snape always took too damn long and right now, he just wanted to be fucked.

Snape apparently agreed because he removed his fingers after scissoring them once. Catching a jar of lube he had Accio'd towards him, he opened it and scooped out a small amount. Moving with a quickness that belied the calm expression on his face, he smeared the substance over his dick.

Harry lifted up his bum, ready for him. Snape moved forward and pressed the head of his full cock up against Harry’s arsehole.

His dark eyes flickered to Harry's face. "You ready?" he asked, the breathlessness in his voice betraying the neutral expression on his face.

More than ready, Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Snape thrust the tip of his cock inside. Harry gasped and grabbed the sheets as he felt himself stretch to accommodate Snape’s ample thickness.

“Are you hurt?” asked Snape in concern, his eyebrows knitting together.

Harry shook his head. He had a bit of discomfort at the quick entry, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care unless his pain was sharp. "I’m fine," he reassured Snape.

Snape grabbed Harry’s hips and slowly sheathed himself completely. His eyelids drooped and, in a voice meant to be clinical and failing, he said, "Inform me of any pain."

"I will," promised Harry, lost in the slow burn of Snape’s thick organ. Without an over-abundance of lube, he could feel his body enveloping Snape's cock in a tight grip. "The last thing I want is for Voldemort or anyone else to show up in the middle of this. No do-overs if he does."

Snape leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s shoulders. He rolled his hips in slow deep strokes, nearly pulling out before burying himself completely again. "You will regret... that policy the instant you... are interrupted... whilst receiving fellatio." His face had such a look of intense concentration; it was as if sex with Harry was the most important task he had ever embarked on in his life.

Harry debated about squeezing his arse to try and break through the narrow bands of Snape's self-restraint. But he wanted to be fucked, long and hard enough to come a second time. He wiggled around, trying to find that perfect spot. "It’s to stop you from cheating and claiming someone has arrived just so you can get a second turn."

"And what’s to stop me... from claiming the same... and leaving you frustrated?" Snape grinned wickedly as he maintained his slow and steady pace.

Harry grabbed onto Snape’s arms and began to thrust back against him, shifting his body until he found the perfect angle that made him gasp with each thrust and his cock re-harden. "Ah..... You wouldn’t, mhm, get away with it. I’d know what you were doing."

"You overestimate your influence." Snape snapped his hips harder, driving even deeper into Harry's tight arse.

"Ah! Yes!" Harry's head dropped backward and he gripped Snape’s arms tighter. "There!"

To Harry’s great disappointment, Snape only thrust a few more times before pulling out. "Roll over onto your hands and knees," he said in a slightly breathless tone as his eyes roamed over Harry’s body.

Harry released Snape’s arms and flipped over quickly, spreading his legs wide and pushing his bum eagerly up in the air. Snape rubbed his cock head over Harry’s crack, pressing it against his hole, but not yet pushing through the tight rim. Harry canted his hips back further, trying to get Snape's cock to breech him. Instead Snape shifted away. Harry growled in frustration and Snape relented, pressing the glans up against Harry's hole. He pushed in the tip and Harry thrust back against him. Snape pulled it back out before Harry could get more than the tip inside.

Harry turned back his head and glared at Snape. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Snape smirked, grabbed hold of Harry’s hips, and buried himself to the hilt in one hard stroke.

"Oh!" Harry's head snapped back, his mouth dropping open with pleasure as he dug his fingers into the sheets. Snape drove into him hard and deep, and Harry matched his strokes to meet Snape's sharp thrusts with his own. He had forgotten what it was like to be fucked like this. So hard it was almost painful. So quick he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his building pleasure. He ignored his cock which was demanding release again, instead holding himself upright on trembling limbs, drawing out his pleasure for as long as he could. So perfect. So right fucking like this. If only it could go on forever.

The non-stop pounding and sliding of Snape's thick cock in and out of his arse drove him to the brink. He teetered on the edge of the precipice again, ready to fall at any moment. He shifted to reach down for his dick when Snape suddenly pulled out.

"No!" Harry protested. "I was so close! You can't stop now!"

Snape grabbed Harry's hips and flipped him over, pushing up Harry’s legs and nearly bending him in half. He thrust in again with a grunt, fucking Harry with that same demanding pace. His face was red, his lips curled up in a snarl as if he was about to rant at Harry in anger.

Harry wrapped his legs tightly around Snape's waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. His hands roamed over Snape's body, caressing every bit of it he could reach. He trailed his fingers through the soft hair, ran his hands over the wiry muscles of the arms, and pinched and pulled at the small, dark nipples. Snape remained focused on his task until Harry scratched down his back, and then his eyes glazed over and a noise arose deep in his throat that was almost a purr.

Harry did it again, harder and slower, catching skin and sweat underneath his nails as he dragged his fingers up and down the muscled expanse. Snape's head flew back and his already nearly inhuman pace increased.

Snape lowered his head and hissed out, “Touch yourself.” His dark eyes were wild, his muscles tensing under Harry's hands. Any second now he would lose it.

Harry’s hand shot down and he gripped his cock, wanking himself hard. He closed his eyes and let his pleasure overwhelm him. He was so close; it didn’t take long before his senses overloaded and release flowed through him. His body shook uncontrollably as every fluid in his body seemed to go straight to his balls and then up and out through his dick, taking every bit of hate and fear with it. There was nothing but warmth inside him. Warmth and liberation, as if he were free and flying.

Snape gave a low growl deep in his throat and Harry was vaguely aware that Snape was coming too, his hips pistoning in wild jerks, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself. He opened his eyes to see Snape staring down at him and Harry pulled him down for a breathless, sloppy kiss that Snape soon ended so they could both gasp for air. His penis still twitching softly, Snape pulled out and collapsed against the bed beside Harry, lying on Harry's left arm.

Harry lay there feeling spent, his mind blown. If this was losing, he wasn’t sure he wanted to win. His mind drifted over nothing until he felt his trapped arm begin to tingle as it fell asleep, and he shoved at Snape.

"Oi, get off my arm!"

Snape bolted upright. "Do you need a potion?" he asked in concern, brushing back a strand of hair from his face.

"Nah, I’m fine." Harry shook out his arm.

"The lubricant I use contains a mild analgesic." Snape called his wand to him and cast the cleaning spells. The pink had faded from his cheeks, his skin sallow again.

"A what?" Harry yanked his pillow towards himself.

"A painkiller," answered Snape as he sent his wand back to his clothing and lay back down.

"Nah, it doesn't hurt." He felt a bit sore, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care about that, otherwise he would’ve shown up after many of their practice sessions. The bed was small and he pressed against Snape's warmth, their legs tangling together. He rested his head on Snape’s chest, listening to Snape’s pounding heart beat. He didn't want to ask, especially after having had such fantastic sex, but knew he had to. "Don’t you have to hurt me sometime soon?"

Snape shifted and combed his fingers through Harry’s hair before stroking them down his spine. Harry shivered at the light touch.

"I do," Snape murmured low in his ear. "I’ll do that tomorrow evening."

"What did you tell him?" Harry closed his eyes.

"The Dark Lord?" asked Snape as his fingers traced Harry’s spine in gentle caresses.

"Yeah." Harry concentrated on the path of the fingers, relishing in the feel of skin against his own. "How did you explain being nice to me?"

"I informed him," said Snape in an almost bored tone, "that it would be impossible for me to have painless intercourse with you while you were resistant unless I drugged you heavily. As he is aware of the dangers of the overuse of analgesics, he agreed that it would be best to limit their usage as much as possible. I also suggested to him that, due to your past, you would be less likely to break under physical abuse. I asked his permission to be kind to you in order to make you submissive. Now that he believes the charade and you to be broken, there is no need for me to be as gentle with you in bed."

Harry had expected to hear an explanation along those lines; Snape often attempted to pacify him with treats and books and other small gifts. He had suspected for a while that many of the things Snape did for him in kindness were simply ways to manipulate him. But to hear Snape state a plan like that with such indifference, as if it were just one among many, turned his blood to ice and dropped his heart to his stomach. To try to break a person through fake love was cruel beyond belief. What sort of darkness was hiding inside Snape for him to come up with these things? Even worse, he had no doubt Snape could do it.

He couldn't deny that he would be more vulnerable to illusions of kindness than to pain. Snape must've seen enough in the Occlumency lessons to learn about the Dursleys. He had to have figured out that physical, emotional, and verbal abuse, neglect, and threats of future torture had little effect. No amount of pain could break him or make him afraid to walk into the throne room without his head held high. They could never torture him into submission.

Yet, he wouldn't have stayed so long in prison if Snape wasn't his guard. He would've escaped long ago and never bowed before Voldemort if Snape hadn't convinced him to do so as part of his plan. It wasn't just because Snape helped him that he didn't try to escape. He stayed, because he couldn't let Snape die and Snape had to know that; maybe Voldemort did, too.

Yes, if they were ever to find a way to break him, fake kindness would be how they would do it. But he wasn’t broken, was he? His willing slave persona was just a charade; a trickery designed by Snape to protect him from pain and fool Voldemort into believing something that wasn't true. He was only submissive in the throne room. Outside of it, he and Snape still fought. Snape acted like a complete git to him half the time, which was hardly what he would expect if Snape were really trying to follow what he had told Voldemort. Not to mention that if Snape was planning to make him into a personal slave, he wouldn’t announce the plan so openly. That would just be stupid.

Snape continued to pet Harry's spine, his fingers trickling easily over the bumps. He remained quiet, as if waiting for Harry to respond. It was rare for him to be so open about his plans. Harry could see why. A month ago, that plan would've scared the piss out of him with its cruel cleverness. Now he admired the lengths Snape went to to protect him.

"You know," Harry said slyly. "Blowjobs are a sure way to win my affection and cooperation."

Snape pulled away from Harry and looked down his nose. His eyebrow arched in the same manner used when dismissing idiotic students. "Perhaps you should win then," he stated in a dry tone before Summoning his clothes and pulling on his y-fronts.

"Oh, I will." Harry grinned and sat up. "What’s for dinner? I’m starving."

"I was wondering when you’d ask that." Snape slid out of bed and stepped over to the table. He tapped his wand against the surface and Harry’s meal appeared.

Harry hurried over to his chair and plopped himself down, pulling the roast lamb towards himself.

"I have brewing to attend to tonight," Snape commented as he buttoned up his shirt. "I will return in the morning to serve you breakfast before Draco arrives. It may take a while for me to ascertain whether Draco is the Master of the Elder Wand, so most of tomorrow will be devoted to his lessons. We should have time for another contest in the evening, but it would be best not to plan for it."

"I understand," Harry answered around a mouthful of carrots.

Snape scowled and shook his head. "Don’t make a mess of your food." He swept from the cell, disappearing through the library door.

Harry fetched the Faustus book and read while he finished his meal at a leisurely pace. He was curious to read the other version and see how it compared to the one he was reading now. After he had finished his meal and completed his nightly routine, he read in bed until he felt sleepy. As he was placing the Faustus book under his mattress, he saw the Cosmos book. He pulled it out and flipped to the picture of Ginny. Guilt stormed through him as he stared at her picture. What would she say if she knew he was having sex with Snape? It was one thing to do it because Voldemort demanded it; it was another thing to do it for his own pleasure. She’d be heartbroken.

He closed the book solemnly and placed it under the mattress. He’d have to find some other reward for their contests. Even though he had broken up with Ginny, he still felt it was wrong for him to sleep with other people. He wouldn’t want her to do the same after all. What if Snape had been right when he spoke about Ginny and Draco? What if she had turned to someone else now that he was imprisoned and possibly a slave? Maybe she thought he didn’t love her anymore. The thoughts disturbed him and it was quite some time before he was able to fall asleep.

~~~

Harry woke up and slid out of bed. He padded over to the sink and began to brush his teeth. Suddenly he paused, his mouth foamy and toothbrush held to his teeth. His skin was tingling on the back of his neck and he could feel the hairs there stand up. He lowered his toothbrush and slowly turned to see the dark figure of a person standing on the other side of the bars. His vision was still fuzzy, but it didn't look like Snape.

"Snape?" he asked the person, but they didn't move. He put down his toothbrush and shuffled over to the bars, but the figure moved one step away for every step he took forward, and by the time he got to the bars, the black-clad individual stood in the library. Raising a hand, they beckoned Harry to follow, the same gesture that Harry had seen in the window from his dream.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. After the Hogwarts dream, he had thought the freaky dreams were over but apparently not. Yawning, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and glanced over to see the dark figure now standing beside his sink.

"OH SHIT!" Harry jumped to his feet, his heart slamming to a stop. It wasn't Snape. It wasn't human. It was in the shape of a human man, but entirely black and flat as if a shadow had come to life.

It raised an arm and Harry screamed, "SNAPE!!" pounding his cuffs violently against the wall. The shape didn't appear to react; it just stood there, waving for Harry to approach. As Harry stared at it, his heart trying to leap out of his chest, it began to shuffle towards him.

Harry grabbed his pillow and threw it at the figure as he tore to the edge of the bed and took off towards the opposite end of the cell. He turned around and flattened himself against the wall, only to see that the shadowy figure had vanished.

"Fuck!" Harry gasped for breath, his eyes darting all over the room as he held onto the wall for support. He dropped down to check that it wasn't hiding under the table somehow, but he saw no trace of it.

The library door swung open and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Snape swept in, his robes taking up space twice as wide as the shadowy figure.

"The-there was a-a thing. In my cell." Harry thrust out an arm, jabbing it at the sink. He was trembling, his arm shaking, but he couldn't care less about his open display of fear. Whatever it was, it had invaded his cell and his mind.

Snape's eyebrows drew in together. "A thing?"

"Like a person. Only shadow." Harry took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. "I've seen this shadow-person twice in my dreams. This time, he was standing right outside my cell. When I woke up, he was inside it! By the sink."

The bars spread apart for Snape who strode over to the sink. He removed his wand and cast spells, examining the area. He put his wand back in his robes and turned towards Harry. "No one was here."

"I saw something!" Harry protested.

Snape slowly shook his head. "You must not have been awake."

"No, something was here." Harry strode over to the sink and glanced at the area where the figure had appeared. When he looked at the toiletries lined up on the sink, his heart dropped. "They've been moved!" The soap and the toothbrush had switched places. Snape scoffed behind him.

Harry whirled around. "Did you do this? Because this isn't fucking funny. I'm serious. I am going to fucking kill you if you are fucking with me!"

Snape's brow wrinkled. "I didn't do anything. How do you know you didn't switch them yourself?"

"I always put them in the same place every single time! There was something here." Harry jabbed his finger at the sink. "I saw it."

"Nothing was physically or magically here," said Snape. "I would know. The Dark Lord would know if a living thing had breached the wards."

"What about a ghost or something?" Harry could not stop peering around the room, searching for signs of the form.

"Ghosts cannot penetrate his wards." Snape regarded Harry for a moment. "As you have taken a lot of sedatives over the last few months, it was probably a hypnagogic hallucination."

"A what?"

"It's a hallucination that occurs when the body is shifting between sleep and wakefulness. Sometimes the mind continues dreaming after the body has woken. You have nothing to worry about, they are fairly common."

Harry scratched his arm, staring at the sink. He didn't think it had been a hallucination, he had seen the same figure twice now. But he had no other way to explain it.

"I will leave to prepare for Draco’s lessons now," Snape told Harry, watching him closely. "As I expect the lessons to take up most of the day, I will need to return in order to serve you lunch and possibly dinner. You must act as though you expect me to return any minute. When I do return, do not speak about our plans until I initiate a conversation on that topic, understand?"

The idea of being stuck in his cell for hours with absolutely nothing to do sounded hellish. "I can read, right?"

"While that is permissible, I’d rather you not be observed reading. "Snape paused for a moment and ran a finger across his lips as he thought. "I will set up an alarm to alert you should anyone step into the library. I may not be able to replace it if someone should trigger it, so I’ll advise you to discontinue reading the moment you hear the tone and only return to your books after I have given you permission."

Harry nodded. "What happens if Lucius visits?"

"I will also use a spell to monitor you while you are in your cage. I will intervene should I observe him engaging in any behaviour you are ill-equipped to handle. Remember, the Dark Lord has forbidden him to physically harm you. If his conduct turns rough, remind him of your Master’s wishes."

"I don’t think he’ll listen," Harry muttered.

"He’d be a fool not to." Snape removed his wand from his robes and pointed it at the wall near Harry's pillows. A dark green spell shot out the end of Snape's wand and dissipated as soon as it hit the wall. "Remain near the head of your bed as much as possible. You will hear a soft tone the moment anyone steps on the library floor."

"What should I do then?"

"If it is Narcissa, distract her. If it is Lucius, obey him." Snape spelled breakfast on the table.

Harry swallowed with difficulty and nodded.

Snape stepped over to the bed. With a flick of his wand, the top mattress rose upwards, revealing the books. Snape retrieved all of them, except for Cosmos and Faustus. Snape looked at them for a second before a book flew in from the library. Harry reached out and grabbed it.

"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Faust, a tragedy in two parts," Harry read and then joked, "I don’t suppose you have anything with pictures?"

Snape frowned at Harry, but his bright eyes showed he understood Harry was joking. "If you behave, I'll bring you a colouring book," he dead-panned before he swept from the room.

Harry yawned and debated going back to sleep in order to help the day pass quickly. However, he wasn't sure if his food would be returned to the kitchen automatically after a set time and he didn't want to lose his meal. He padded over to the table. Snape had served him a breakfast typical of a day that would be spent in the practice room - thick sausages, fried eggs with toast, crisp slices of bacon - and mangoes for dessert. He ate the mangoes slowly, savouring their taste before he speared a sausage and ate with his head turned towards the door. He felt unaccountably nervous; more so than when he was waiting to be called to the throne room to be tortured, but he ignored his fluttering stomach and forced himself to eat.

After breakfast, he went through his morning routine at a slower pace than usual, trying to drag out his morning. After he was finished, he cleaned his cell, using toilet paper and hand soap to scrub the surfaces clean. He nearly used the entire roll in his work, flushing the dirty pieces down the toilet. After he had washed his hands, straightened his bed sheets, and organised his toiletries, he retrieved Marlowe's Faustus and lay down on his bed to read.

The play was quite dry and difficult to understand. He took frequent breaks to exercise, but before long he was bored out of his skull. He had had a few toys in his cupboard at the Dursleys’ – discards from Dudley, of course – but they had been enough to keep him occupied for hours at a time. When he got bored of playing with them, he had lain in his bed and fantasised, but now his thoughts kept turning to Ginny and his friends, and thinking about them for too long made his heart ache. He wanted to do something. His eyes drifted around his small, bare cell, eventually landing on his cuffs. He ran his fingers over the carvings of dragons, poked his little finger through the half-rings. He still had no idea how to break out of them. Shouldn't he have learned that by now? He'd ask Snape when he returned. What if Voldemort suddenly had need for Snape elsewhere? In that case, it might be better to escape. He should develop an escape plan. It was unwise to rely entirely on Snape, even if he had many plans himself.

Harry slid off the bed and looked around his cell. There wasn't anything useful as far as he could see. Maybe he could splinter a chair and use one of the legs as a club, except then he'd have to lure his keeper into the cell and keep the club hidden until needed, not to mention that a broken chair would be noticed right away. An intelligent Death Eater would just use Reparo and then his cover would be blown without any benefit. Harry walked over to the toilet and lifted up the cistern lid. As it was plastic instead of ceramic, it wasn't very heavy and wouldn't make a good weapon. Still, he could knock a Death Eater out if he swung it hard enough from the right angle. There was nothing inside the cistern he reckoned he could use. Harry replaced the lid and stepped over to the sink. He gathered his toiletries in his towel and carried them over to the bed where he sat on his pillow and examined them closely.

When he broke the mouthwash bottle before, the lid had shattered, but the bottle had remained undamaged. The plastic was firm and it didn't look like he could make anything of it. Harry grinned at the idea of spitting the mouthwash in a Death Eater's eyes, but realistically it didn't seem to have any use in combat either. He had already used the toothpaste as glue, but beyond that, he couldn't think of any uses for it other than its intended purpose. The bar of soap seemed just as useless. Now the floss looked like it might offer possibilities. He picked up the floss and wondered how much was needed before it could be used to strangle someone. Harry pulled off a section long enough to fold over twice and tried to break it with his foot. It held up remarkably well, although his fingers started to hurt. Using his toothbrush and mouthwash, he tried to assemble a garotte, but it didn't work right; the mouthwash was the wrong size and the toothbrush had no grip. He'd have to wrap his hands in cloth or else eliminate the Death Eater who came to check on why he was feeling pain. So the floss was another 'no' and he set it aside. The toothbrush could possibly be filed down into a sharp point. Harry climbed off his bed and tried rubbing the handle against the floor, but the tiles were smooth and despite several minutes of hard rubbing, the toothbrush was merely scuffed rather than worn. He might be able to break it in a way so that sharp ends could be produced, but he doubted it. Harry returned it to the hand towel with the other discarded items.

The deodorant was even more useless. It was made of the same plastic as the mouthwash and was just as small, if not smaller. The comb had points, but the flimsy plastic made it undesirable as a weapon. He could break off a few of the teeth to make a better weapon, but he wasn't sure if it was even worth it. Pulling up one of the corners of his sheets, he gripped the comb tightly and tried to puncture the sheet with one of the large teeth. Yes! If he needed to, he could cut up the blanket and make a weapon. After refitting the sheets and hiding the section with the hole under the mattress, he returned his toiletries to the sink and plotted and planned until a soft charm alerted him to a possible visitor.

Harry knelt on the bed, watching the door with wary eyes. After a second, Snape stepped through the door in a flurry of black. Harry, not sure if Snape was being followed, bowed from his position on the bed, pressing his head to the covers. Snape strode into the cell and paused by the table. Soon, the smell of roast chicken filled the air.

"You may rise," Snape ordered in a clipped tone. Harry sat up, fixing his eyes on his chest. Snape stepped close to Harry and, placing his hand under Harry's chin, bent down to kiss him. Harry hid his surprise and opened his mouth for Snape, letting Snape's tongue sweep in between his lips. He wasn't sure how active or receptive he should be to Snape, so he closed his eyes and passively allowed Snape to plunder his mouth. Even though the kiss wasn't as desperately hot and frantic as the kisses they shared in bed, it still sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin and he was glad when Snape pulled his mouth away. The last thing he wanted was to get hard while they had company. Snape released Harry's chin and affectionately ran his hand down Harry's spine, sending chills throughout his body.

"I'll play with you later, my pet." Snape's voice was rich and warm. Harry was dying to look at his eyes, but he kept his own fixed on the top buttons of Snape's coat.

"Yes, Master," he answered, unsure what sort of response a cowed slave would give to such a statement that was promise instead of threat.

"The lessons are progressing well and I expect to be finished before dinner," Snape said as his fingers stroked the back of Harry's neck.

That probably meant that Draco had possession of the Elder Wand and Snape was going to get it. Harry allowed his smile to show on his face. "I look forward to it, Master."

Snape's fingers lingered on Harry's neck for a second longer before they were removed.

"You may return to your previous activities," Snape announced before striding out of the cell. Harry watched the door close and then left his bed. It was a shame Snape had to be a dick to him tonight. Even though Harry didn't plan on sleeping with him for pleasure anymore, he enjoyed the closeness they shared. Harry had been given a perfect lunch: roast chicken and red potatoes with spices; steamed broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower; and treacle tarts drenched in ice cream for dessert. For a man who spent most of his time being a git, Snape sure knew how to please him when he put his mind to it. Harry dug into his meal, wondering if Snape had expected Lucius to visit.

After stretching out his meal for as long as he could, Harry grabbed Marlowe's Faustus and read determinedly to the end. When he finished the play, he wasn't entirely sure what it had been about. It was far above his level and he had the feeling he had missed some important plot points. However, he felt quite confident that Snape at least partially identified with Faustus. Faustus had quite a tragic end; his body was found strewn across the ground in parts. Snape had said a while back that surviving Voldemort would be a miracle. Did he expect to end up like Faustus? A few months ago, Harry would've thought Snape was well-deserving of such a fate, but now he hoped they'd both survive. As much as he despised Snape's selfishness, Snape had been open and honest about his motives and Harry appreciated that fact.

Still, there were questions unanswered about why Snape had joined Voldemort. Faustus had willingly sold his soul not only to gain powers and intelligence, but also because he believed his soul to be already damned. Had Snape done the same? As a Slytherin, he might've been expected to join Voldemort. Harry didn't think Snape was blameless in the matter and Snape had never tried to excuse or defend his past behaviour.

However, what circumstances or choices resulted in the differences between himself and Snape despite their similar pasts? He and Snape, the abandoned boys, had found a home in Hogwarts*, but what a different home they had found. Had Snape really had no friends but the budding Death Eaters who eventually led him to Voldemort? With Gryffindors antagonistic towards Snape like Harry’s father, he probably wouldn't have found refuge in the Order. There were always choices to be made and Snape's difficult life did not absolve him of his choices, but now Harry felt more pity for Snape than anger; more sadness than hate.

He slid off the bed to hide the book under the mattress. He debated starting on Goethe's version, but his eyes hurt a bit and he worried the discomfort would only increase should he continue reading. For lack of anything better to do, he grabbed the mouthwash, deodorant, and toothpaste off the sink and tried to teach himself to juggle. It was quite disastrous, and despite devoted practice, he was unable to keep more than two objects in the air at the same time. He had just returned the items back to his sink when he heard the tone that meant someone had stepped into the library. Harry hurried back to the bed, kneeling on the mattress. When the door opened, he bowed, pressing his head down. The slow, measured click of boots approached his cell.

"Come here." Lucius's voice was as silky as ever.


*From Deathly Hallows