Nights of Gethsemane

The sound of Lucius Malfoy's voice sent shivers down Harry's spine, as if he had just been plunged into iced water. If only he could disobey orders. That was impossible though--Snape needed him to distract the Death Eater. Draco's life depended on it.

His heart filled with dread and his limbs heavy, Harry climbed off the bed and stepped over to the bars, his eyes on the floor. Even though he knew he'd never mistake that voice for any other, as soon as he was close enough to make out the silver tip of a cane resting against the bars, his stomach dropped to the floor. A shiny black boot emerged from black robes decorated with silver designs around the trim. Not wanting to be anywhere near the man, Harry stopped an arm's length away from the bars, waiting for a command.

Malfoy just stood there.

Time seemed to stretch forever. The only sounds Harry could hear in the small cell were his racing heart and his rapid, shallow breathing. What was Malfoy doing? Was he just going to stand there and stare? It was unbearable. He hadn't been trained for this. How was he supposed to keep Malfoy entertained for hours?

Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak, but then Malfoy ordered, "Follow me." Shimmering robes shifted and a black-gloved hand opened the bars. With a swirl that would've made Snape proud, he turned and strode to the library. Harry dropped to his hands and knees to crawl after him. Probably the more slave-like he was, the less Malfoy would want to hurt him.

"On your feet." The cane flew back, rapping Harry in the arm. It didn't hurt, but the action drew a startled gasp from his throat. Malfoy said, "I did not order you to crawl."

Harry jumped to his feet, keeping his eyes on the floor. Lucius stood there, doing what, Harry didn't know. Should he apologise for his offence? Raise his eyes or wait for a command? He resisted the urge to wipe his palms on his thighs and waited for Lucius's next command.

After a pause, Lucius ordered, "Crawl," and continued towards the library.

What the hell? Harry returned once again to the floor. In the library, Malfoy transformed the sofa and end tables, creating a large table flanked by four high-backed chairs.

"Sit."

Sitting in a chair would probably earn him another rap with the cane. Harry dropped rump first to the floor.

Lucius tsked. "Your posture is atrocious. Keep your back straight." He tapped his cane against the small of Harry's back and Harry straightened out his back as best he could.

"Stand."

Harry stood, his eyes fixed on Malfoy's chest.

"Shoulders back, chest out, hands flat against your thighs," commanded Lucius as he walked around Harry, poking him with the cane in the parts he wished to be adjusted. "Have some pride in your work."

What work? Being a slave? How could a person be proud about being a slave? His objections never left the safety of his mind as he dutifully followed Lucius's instructions.

"Bow."

Harry bent, bending as low as he could without falling over.

"No, no," said Lucius in a calm, soft voice. "What have I told you about keeping your back straight? Bend at the waist." Malfoy's cane rose up to push Harry back upright. "Try it again."

He had never thought to bend with his back straight, but he obeyed, bending over as far as he could without tumbling forward. It was an incredibly uncomfortable position and his legs trembled.

"Rise."

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, Harry straightened up, trying to remember exactly how Lucius wanted him to hold his back. He had a good memory and Lucius only had to prod him a little bit.

"Any good servant must learn his Master's commands," said Malfoy after he was finished poking Harry. "Stand close enough to observe my hands. I will only verbally give each command once."

Harry turned to face him, finding Malfoy's black gloves. The left remained curled around the tip of his cane, but he held his right out in front of him and Harry focused on that.

"Come." The last two fingers on Malfoy's right hand shifted inward ever so slightly. Had Harry not been looking for it, he would have missed it completely. He walked a step forward, unwilling to advance any closer to Lucius.

"This next command is 'leave' which is what I would give to you should I wish for you to remove yourself from my presence. For now, I want you to simply take a few steps backwards due to your poor eyesight. I will ensure that your glasses are given to you whenever I use these commands in the future."

"Yes, Master." Harry nodded. This was easy. He could do this.

"Leave." All of Malfoy's fingers shifted outward with the same subtly with which the bottom two had curled in. Harry walked two small steps backwards, determined to remain close enough so that Lucius couldn't punish him for failing to observe a hand movement. Malfoy gave the signal for 'come' and Harry stepped closer to him again.

"Sometimes I will wish for you to be in the room but not in my immediate company. In that case, I will give a different command, which is 'retreat.'" Malfoy's fingers moved as he said it. The gesture was almost the opposite of 'come'--only the bottom two shifting. "For now, take a step to the right to show you understand." He repeated the motion.

Harry stepped to the right. Malfoy signalled for Harry to return to him and Harry did so, only to receive the command for 'leave' as soon as he had moved. Each command was shortly followed by another, but with only three simple signals, Harry had no problem complying.

Then, the flutter of fingers came from the hand wrapped around the cane, rather than the hand in front of him. Harry only caught the movements from the corner of his eye and missed the signal. His stomach turned. He should've known Malfoy was waiting to catch him in a mistake. No point in denying it. "I'm sorry, Master. I missed the signal." He waited for the blow to fall, but it never came. Malfoy simply repeated the action--a command for retreat.

The signals switched hands, but after chasing Snitches around for years, it was easy to catch the movements now that he knew to watch both hands.

After he had gone through at least twenty signals and not caught Harry in a single mistake, Malfoy let his right hand drop to his side. "You are clumsy in your servitude, but only due to lack of training. You have the intelligence and the determination to be a great slave."

Being a great slave was not something Harry aspired to, but the compliment surprised and pleased him. Snape always called him stupid, but if Malfoy, who was very clever himself, thought that Harry was intelligent, then he must be decently smart.

"I don't suppose you've ever had a proper afternoon tea, have you?" Malfoy asked as he sat down in a chair with a flutter of robes.

Petunia had forced him to serve many of the Dursleys’ guests, but he doubted that what Petunia thought to be proper matched what Malfoy did. "I don't believe so, sir," said Harry, keeping the wariness from his voice. Why was Malfoy being so... kind? It unnerved him. He half wanted Lucius to do something horrific just so that they could get it over with rather than waiting for him to reveal his true colours. Harry could take pain. He had learned to deal with his body being hurt. The waiting was worse somehow.

"I imagine not." Malfoy tapped the table with his wand and four sets of cups, saucers, and spoons appeared before each seat along with a salver on which rested a teapot along with a small jug of milk and two bowls--one filled with sugar cubes and the other with thin slices of lemon. Lucius floated the salver over to Harry. "You only serve with your right hand. Use your left to hold the salver. Now, pour the tea into the cup to my left."

Harry placed the salver over his left hand and then grabbed the teapot's handle. A flash of silver and black and Malfoy's cane tapped his hand. "Very clumsy. I will show you." Malfoy stood, walked over to stand behind Harry, and prodded him with his cane until Harry adjusted his back to conform to Lucius's demands.

"Remember," he said, his breath stirring the hair near Harry's ear, "always maintain correct posture. When you bend, bend at the waist." Malfoy positioned the tray on Harry's left arm and manipulated Harry's fingers around the teapot handle. His own were bare, the gloves removed outside of Harry's vision. The long, pale fingers were surprisingly soft, almost feminine. Now, with the Death Eater so close, Harry noted the robes were a dark, dark green, not black. At first he thought the silver shapes winding and slithering around the trim of the robes were snakes, but a closer look revealed them to be vines with fat diamond leaves that fluttered as if swayed by a nonexistent breeze.

"First, pour the tea." Malfoy pressed up against Harry's back, his breath hot on the back of Harry's neck. Harry's heart rate nearly doubled and he swallowed back his urge to kick Malfoy as hard as he could and run like hell. Malfoy wasn't allowed to hurt him. Why did he have to stand so close? Showing fear would admit his weaknesses, so Harry ignored his panic and allowed Lucius to manoeuvre his hands like a puppet’s. After Malfoy had poured the tea, he returned the teapot to the salver.

"Now, to offer the milk." Malfoy shifted slightly, his thighs brushing against Harry's arse. Harry froze, unable to suppress his fear with Lucius so damn close. Malfoy had never shown any sexual interest in him before, but maybe that had just been done to lull Snape into a false sense of security. How could Snape have been so stupid to leave him alone with Malfoy for hours? Snape had shown that it was possible to rape without causing pain.

Lucius chuckled. "Relax," he said in Harry's ear in a disturbingly soothing tone. "I have no desire for boys." He curled his fingers around Harry's wrist and guided him to the milk. "I take my tea without garnishment. However, some guests may desire milk, lemon, or sugar. Offer the milk first. If the guest desires milk, he or she will give a slight nod. If so, pour the milk. Watch." With an elegant motion, Lucius poured a small amount of milk into the tea cup. "Now you do it." He removed the contents of the cup with a wave of his hand.

Imitating the actions as best he could, Harry poured the tea and the milk. He apparently performed very well, because Lucius purred, "Very good, Harry," in his ear once he finished.

It was strange to hear his given name spoken like that; soft words with a hint of praise and admiration. Snape only called him Harry when he was ill and never in that tone. He had never thought of it before, how Snape always called him Potter, but now all he could think of was how much he wanted to hear his name spoken like that again. To be Harry. Not Potter, or worse, slave, boy, or pet. Just Harry. It made him want to obey Lucius just to hear his name spoken with affection; to have the illusion of friendship and warmth, even from a black-hearted villain like Malfoy. Harry knew what was happening. He knew that Malfoy was trying to make him submissive to him through kindness. He knew it was all a ploy to control him and yet, he couldn't repress his cravings for affection. He couldn't stop himself from wanting to be Harry again, even if just for a little while. What had happened to him? What had he become that the mere mention of his name said with warmth left him with feelings of appreciation towards a sadist? Any minute now, Malfoy would hurt him. He focused on all his memories of Malfoy in the torture room to ensure he felt only hate.

"Only offer lemon should milk not be accepted," instructed Lucius. His hand slid to Harry's wrist but paused on the way there. He straightened, stepping away from Harry as he did so. A few seconds later, footsteps pounded down the stairs and Harry silently exhaled in relief. Snape was coming. He kept his eyes on the floor and heard rather than saw Snape's dramatic entrance.

"The Dark Lord does not permit him use of the library," Snape lied in a crisp, cool voice, "even while supervised."

"A shame," said Malfoy. He waved away the items for tea and returned the furniture to normal. Motioning with his fingers for Harry to follow, he returned Harry to his cell. Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him. If only they had set up a way to secretly communicate. It was too risky to try, even with Malfoy's back towards them, so he kept his face carefully blank.

"You can be assured that my intent is only to train him for his future duties," said Malfoy. "How can he serve my family unless he has been properly trained?"

Snape scoffed. "He is useless as a house-elf. He is obedient but clumsy and thick-headed."

Harry clenched his fists. He knew Snape was trying to protect him from Malfoy, but he hated being called stupid.

"He is rather clumsy now," acknowledged Malfoy. "However, he is intelligent enough to be well-trained by the time I am finished with him." He stepped into Harry's cell and conjured a fancy chair for himself. Harry knelt down on the floor between them, keeping his back straight as he bent his head.

"You have the ability to mould him into perfection in a few days’ time?" asked Snape. If he looked up, Harry knew he would see Snape's eyebrows arching towards his hairline in an expression of complete disbelief. "That will be quite an accomplishment."

"My dear friend," said Malfoy and it was clear, even to Harry, that those words were no longer true if they ever were. He had never heard anyone fight like they did, with politeness and soft words spoken in even tones. "I do not intend for this upcoming visit to be the last. I've trained horses and house-elves--humans are no different. Simply punish the behaviour you wish to discourage and reward the behaviour you wish to encourage."

Upcoming visit? What did Malfoy mean? Harry pretended as though he couldn't hear their conversation, ignoring his racing heart.

"I've never known you to be soft-hearted, Lucius. If he is as intelligent as you say, you will find yourself lacking in opportunities for punishment. Will you be devising impossible tasks in order to ensure his failure?" asked Snape, confirming Harry's worst fears.

"Why no, Severus," Malfoy said in a silky voice as if he had been waiting for Severus to ask him that question. "I will first teach him to accept pain as a reward. A properly trained slave learns that his Master's pleasure is the source of his happiness. His Master's displeasure.... No intelligent slave allows that to occur more than once if he has the ability."

NO! Snape wouldn't give him to Malfoy, he couldn't! This was all wrong! Harry trusted Snape to keep him safe. Snape surely knew what Lucius could do to him. It would be a death sentence.

"I admire your ambition, but I think you will be disappointed with your test subject. Three days may not be enough to teach him not to burn toast."

Three days!? He clenched his hands and teeth tightly, forbidding himself any other expression, his heart pounding as if trying to break through his ribs and sweat trickling down his spine. He couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it! He wouldn't be Malfoy's slave for three fucking days! How could Snape allow the most sadistic Death Eater he'd ever known to play with him for three whole days? He would grab Snape and tear the answers out of him. He couldn't think straight.As soon as Lucius left, he would demand that Snape tell him what the bloody hell was going on.

"The journey is equally as enjoyable as the destination," Lucius said before his voice took on a sharp edge. "Shouldn't you be training my son?"

"Why, yes," said Snape, his voice still exceedingly polite. "I intend to start him on the Medeian Curses. With your permission, of course."

"That will be fine," said Malfoy with a lazy wave of his hand. "I trust your judgement, Severus."

"Very well. The slave may be taken to the cupboard or the bathroom, but not the laundry room or the library, except to pass through."

"I understand."

Snape left with a dramatic swirl of his robes.

Malfoy sat in his chair without moving. Thoughts swirled in Harry's head. He'd never be Malfoy's slave. Never. He'd escape first. He'd kill him first. He didn't care if it meant he'd be killed in return. There was no way he'd willingly be Malfoy's slave.

"You listened to our conversation." The statement was half question, half accusation.

"Yes, sir," admitted Harry, knowing it was useless to lie.

"Your face is pale. Were you aware that you will be brought to my manor in a week's time?"

A week? There was a date? "No, sir," Harry gasped out. His nails were biting into his palms and he forced himself to open his hands, laying his palms flat against his thighs.

"No, I suppose Severus would not admit the Dark Lord's displeasure to you," mused Malfoy. "How long do you think it will take in order for me to train you to enjoy receiving pain from me?"

"I don't know, sir." Never. He never would.

"You don't think you ever will, do you?"

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to answer. He decided to go the safe route. "I like to please my Masters."

Malfoy snatched up his cane and swung it at Harry's head. Harry held himself firmly in place, mentally wincing. Malfoy's cane stopped a finger's breadth away from Harry's cheek.

"Don't patronise me. When I ask a question, I want an answer."

With slow deliberateness, Lucius ran the tip of the cane down Harry's cheek and over his neck. The touch was light, but the icy metal seemed to sear his skin. Harry wanted to flinch away, but he forced himself to remain frozen. Snape needed to come back now.

"You were scared that I would strike you, weren't you?" The cane tip drifted down Harry's arm.

"Yes, sir," admitted Harry, allowing his fear to show on his face.

In the same casual tone, Malfoy asked, "Do you want me to engage in intercourse with you? Answer me truthfully, yes or no."

Harry wanted to shout 'NO!,' but knew that answer wouldn't be well received. Malfoy would probably rather hear a 'yes.' On the other hand, he read him so easily, the likelihood of that lie being believed was slim. Also, a 'yes' might be taken as an invitation. Lucius said that he had no interest in boys, but maybe he had changed his mind and wanted to hear Harry say 'yes.' Either answer was problematic and could bring about Malfoy's wrath. Harry had to answer either way.

"No, sir." Harry braced himself for punishment.

Malfoy chuckled. "I thought not." He added with affection, "I'm glad you didn't lie to me, Harry. Have a biscuit."

Feeling as though he was trapped in an out-of-control carnival ride, Harry picked a biscuit off of the salver that had been floated down to him. His fingers were trembling so hard, it nearly slipped and he had to clutch it in his fist.

"I imagine you weren't fond of Severus's touch at the beginning, were you?" Malfoy asked in a conversational tone as the salver floated out of Harry's field of vision.

"No, sir," said Harry, holding the biscuit tightly. Why the fuck was Malfoy being so polite to him? It was worse than being tortured. He wanted to scream, 'Just hurt me!' The needles were better than this.

"But you enjoy his touch now, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Warmth spread across his face.

The end of Malfoy's cane twirled. "Do you come when he fucks you?"

It was not what Harry had ever expected to hear said in that even, cultured voice. He clenched his biscuit so hard it snapped. "Y-yes, sir."

"Eat your biscuit," Lucius said in a tone that was more suggestion than order. "I assure you, it isn't poisoned."

Harry forced himself to take a bite. His mouth was so dry, it was hard for him to swallow and it took him several tries before he could finally get it down.

Malfoy twirled his cane lazily in his hand as he watched Harry eat. After a bit he spoke in the same creepy voice filled with fake affection, "If I had told you two months ago that you would enjoy sex with Severus would you have believed me?"

"No, sir." Harry would've refused to believe it. He could hardly believe it now.

Malfoy chuckled. "Trust me, Harry. If you can be made to enjoy being fucked by an ill-featured, greasy man such as Severus, then you can appreciate pain. After all, he was violent when he first took you and that hasn't stopped you from enjoying it now, has it? I am well-versed in the art of sadism. You will not be disappointed."

Harry couldn't breathe. He knew that it was true that he never would've freely chosen to have sex with Snape if left to his own judgement. He used to hate Snape more than anyone else in the world; more than Voldemort at times. Now, he loved being fucked by Snape. He had even requested it. He had been twisted into regarding sex with Snape as a pleasure rather than a punishment. If he could enjoy sex with Snape, his rapist, then he could enjoy being tortured by Malfoy. His stomach rolled and he swallowed back down his bile.

Malfoy pulled a small, golden vial from his robes. "I don't suppose you know what this is, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry managed to say, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide behind his mental walls. He couldn't do this.

"This is Mullerian Potion. It will change a grown male into a female. A sterile female to be sure, but with functional genitalia. I imagine you will be quite amusing as a girl, Harry," Lucius said with a predatory purr to his voice. "I know that Severus was rather rough when he took your virginity. You needn't worry." He ran a finger down the side of Harry's right jaw. "The second loss will be less traumatic."

He was so cold, so frozen, his heart and his lungs seemed to have stopped working. He screwed his eyes shut and threw up his walls, retreating behind them. Please. Please. He didn't know who or what he was begging, all he knew was that he needed to get away from Malfoy. It couldn't be true. Snape wouldn't let Malfoy do that to him. He'd never survive it. He'd rather die than spend even one day as Lucius's slave.

Malfoy didn't stop and Harry couldn't block him out. "I would never defile myself with a half-breed. Once you have been trained and earned the privilege, I'll allow you to service my allies. Perhaps I'll even take you to Hogwarts and allow the Slytherins to make use of you."

No more. Where was Snape? Harry could do nothing but keep his eyes shut and wish Malfoy away.

"Hopefully you will be attractive as a female," mused Malfoy in a tone that would've been playful on anyone else. "If not, there are ways of repairing your flaws. Go stand before the bars of your cage facing outwards with your legs and arms stretched apart."

With shaking limbs, feeling as though he was about to pass out any second, Harry did as commanded. He clutched the bars for support as he spread his limbs in the shape of an X. No sooner had he done so when he felt bonds wrap him securely in place. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the bars, and prayed.

When Malfoy touched his back, he jumped. Lucius laughed; a low, deep sound that betrayed his enjoyment. "Don't be so tense, Harry, you will injure yourself."

The click of a box opening sent Harry's thoughts shooting toward the needles Malfoy had used during the first torture session. Relief flooded through him, making his knees sag against the bars. If Malfoy hurt him, Voldemort would punish him. Snape would step in and save him. He couldn't wait to feel the pain of the needles.

Malfoy smeared something wet and gooey into Harry's back. Whatever it was, it sent a tingling feeling into Harry's skin, as though his back had fallen asleep. "We can't have you feeling pain, can we? Do let me know if anything I do should cause you discomfort. You will tell me if you should experience pain, won't you?"

To have that last bit of hope stripped away from him hurt more than the needles or Cruciatus ever had. Harry whispered, "Yes, sir."

"Good boy."

After Harry's back had been covered in the goo, he felt Malfoy press a hooked needle into his lower back to the right of his spine just above the curve of his buttocks. It didn't hurt, but the sensation of it sliding into his flesh unnerved him. He could feel it moving beneath the surface and then piercing upwards, lifting up his skin before breaking through. He clenched the bars in his hands and wished for Snape. Malfoy left the needle inside of him, selected another one, and repeated the action on the other side of his spine.

Harry wanted to bite his tongue to cause himself pain despite his promise, but he suspected that Malfoy would instantly catch onto the ruse and he couldn't afford to give up his cover at this point. A third needle pressed into his skin and he bit back a sob that rose up in his throat. It didn't hurt, but the helplessness, the fear, the frustration, the hate all overwhelmed him and left him hollow inside. He needed Snape and he hated himself for needing Snape, wanting him, desiring him. He was weak, helpless to do anything about Lucius other than submit. He couldn't fight Malfoy without revealing himself, and he couldn't reveal himself without endangering their plans. His eyes burned hot, but he savagely pushed away his negative emotions and focused on the fact that Snape would soon have mastery of the Elder Wand. Although what a fat lot of good that would do them since they didn't even have the bloody Wand in their possession and probably never would.

With each slide of the needles in and out of his flesh, he grasped the bars, afraid of pain even as he wished for it. He lost track of how many needles Lucius pierced him with, lining them in two neat vertical rows, one on each side of his spine. After what seemed like ages, Malfoy finally placed the last one, up near Harry's shoulder. A wisp of soft fabric crawled up his back and then Malfoy released his bonds.

"Turn around," ordered Lucius.

His legs trembled and he could barely keep himself upright, but he obeyed, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Spread your arms." Harry spread his arms, holding them flat against the bars. The bonds returned, pinning him in place. He heard the clink of metal against metal as the right row of needles in his back pressed against a bar. It jolted the needles in his skin, an unnerving sensation with the lack of pain. A jar floated over to Malfoy from the table and he dipped the index finger of his right hand in it, pulling out a bright blue goo which he smeared over Harry's left nipple. If he wasn't going to rape him then why was he doing that?

After he had completely covered Harry's nipple and areola in the tingly goo, Malfoy pinched the nipple, rolling the small nub between his fingers. Fear rooted Harry in place, preventing him from staring at anything but the floor as his nipple stiffened in Lucius's fingers. Malfoy's right hand disappeared from Harry's view and when it returned, it held a curved, silver needle. The needle was about as long as Harry's index finger and nearly circular. Harry tensed, knowing what Malfoy planned to do with that needle. He did not disappoint. With slow precision, he pierced Harry's nipple, pushing the needle through the delicate bit of flesh. Harry wanted to scream, but he forced himself to remain passive, closing his eyes again.

"Look at it."

Harry opened his eyes and glanced down in time to see Lucius withdraw his hand, leaving the needle stuck in Harry's nipple. He tweaked it lightly, causing a strange pulse of indescribable feeling from what should've been a painful sensation. Malfoy waved his hand and the ends of the needle came together and sealed, forming a perfect ring. Harry realised he wore matching rings in rows down his back. How many more did Malfoy plan to stick in his flesh?

"So beautiful, don't you think?" Malfoy hooked the ring with his finger and tugged on it lightly. Harry gasped even though it didn't hurt. "So many possibilities. I've heard that female nipples are more sensitive than male ones. You will have to inform me if that rumour is true."

Harry couldn't help the whimper that escaped past his lips. Malfoy chuckled and released the ring. He dipped his finger in the salve again, smearing it on Harry's right nipple.

The library door opened and the welcome padded step of Snape's boots against the tile soared Harry's spirits. He tilted his head towards Snape, trying to catch a glimpse of the black robes.

"What is it now, Severus?" asked Malfoy in a bored voice.

"I am finished with your son's lessons," answered Snape in an equally bored voice as he stepped in through the bars. His face turned towards Harry. Harry dropped his eyes.

"So soon?" queried Malfoy.

"I have other duties to which I must attend. I trust he will be available for his lessons next week?" Snape paused before Malfoy, and Harry focused on the bottom of his robes, trying to mentally convey his desire to be freed from Lucius.

"Of course." Malfoy returned his items to the box, the metal items clicking against each other. When he had tucked the last of the items away, he stepped over to Harry and tilted Harry's chin up. For one unguarded moment, Harry's eyes involuntarily met Malfoy's and the cunning and cruelty he saw there chilled him to the bone.

"I will see you in a week, Harry. I look forward to it."

Harry averted his eyes, pressing himself back against the bars to get as far away from Malfoy as he possibly could. Lucius chuckled in amusement before sweeping off with Snape following close behind. Harry was left bound to the bars, but relief filled him when he heard the library door close behind them. There was the possibility that they could return any second, but he had the feeling that he was finished with Malfoy for the day. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to weep or laugh more, so he permitted himself neither. For several agonising minutes, he waited for Snape to return.

When Snape finally opened the library door and stepped in through the bars to Harry’s cell, Harry wanted to scream at him. He had no idea whether the Malfoys had left or not, so he held his tongue. Snape released him from the bars with a flourish of his wand and Harry's legs gave out. He fell forward, caught smoothly by Snape who seemed impossibly strong. Harry wanted to melt into his robes and never let go. He wanted Snape to wrap his arms around him and promise to never let Malfoy touch him. He wanted Snape to fuck him and hold him and kiss him and he hated himself for that. Hated Snape for that, even though he knew that it wasn’t Snape’s fault. It was easier to be mad at Snape and to blame him than to acknowledge that he, Harry, had lost himself somewhere and didn't know if he would ever be himself again.

"To bed, so that I may repair your back." Snape led Harry the short distance and helped him onto the bed, laying him face down.

Harry allowed himself to be guided, too overwhelmed by his conflicting emotions to do anything else. When the first of the rings was removed, Harry winced and grabbed the bed sheets. The lack of pain made the sensation of the needles sliding through his skin worse somehow.

"I am now the Master of the Elder Wand." Snape's voice betrayed his excitement. Harry wanted to punch him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Harry.

"I couldn't very well inform you of such matters in front-" Snape began to lecture as he pulled out another ring.

"No. Tell me about Lucius," hissed Harry. "I won't be his slave."

"You won't," said Snape. "You will be free before next week."

The knowledge should've cheered Harry, but he was too focused on the fact that Snape was yet again controlling every facet of his life. "You should've told me."

"I will tell you what I feel is necessary," said Snape testily as he yanked out a ring. "If I told you everything that was planned for you, you would be paralysed with worry."

"I have a right to know." Harry clenched the sheets as Snape began to pull out a ring.

"And what will you do with this knowledge? Our plan does not depend on whether Lucius should control you next week or not if you remain in this prison."

"I'm leaving here before next week," insisted Harry. "Bring me before Voldemort or I'll escape. I am not going to be his slave."

"Stop being obtuse," said Snape as he yanked out two rings in rapid succession. "I've already told you I have no intention of handing you over to him."

"What happens if you get sick? What happens if you die? What happens if Voldemort orders you to go collect more potion ingredients? What happens-?"

"That won't happen." Snape removed the last ring and drizzled a potion over Harry's back. "Even if it should, you have been well-trained. You should be able to resist him by complying."

"He's going to make me enjoy torture!"

"If you enjoy it, then why the concern?" Snape said testily.

Harry yanked his arm back, knocking Snape's hands away, and scrambled to the other edge of the bed. "BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LIKE IT!" He slammed his fists against the wall.

"Potter, calm down," Snape ordered in a cool tone, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "You'll hurt yourself."

"I'll blame it on Malfoy." Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Snape studied him, the line between his eyebrows dark. "Come here. You need your back bandaged."

"I'll do it myself."

"Don't be thick. You can't bandage your back."

He only ever heard insults from Snape, never compliments. To Snape, he would always be a stupid, whining child. He glared daggers at Snape and snarled, "I'll. Do. It. Myself."

Snape leaned across the bed to grab Harry's ankle and Harry kicked his hand away. Snape reached for him again, spitting out with impatience, "Come here, I can't heal you if you keep thrashing about."

Harry kicked him again, harder. "Don’t touch me! I hate it when you touch me!" For a moment, something flashed deep in Snape's eyes. It was a look Harry had never seen before and it took him a moment to realise that he had hurt Snape. Harry regretted his words, because he knew they weren't true, but he wanted them to be true. He wished they were true.

Snape drew himself up to his full height and glared down his huge nose at Harry. His eyes were cold; his face a wall Harry could not penetrate. It was as if they had been suddenly transported back to the classroom at Hogwarts. Harry could not stand to be looked at like that and turned his head to face the wall. When Snape spoke, it was in the same tone he used to lecture disobedient pupils. "If you wish to sit here and wallow in your misery instead of training, I will not stand in your way. When you've decided to stop engaging in this infantile behaviour, strike your cuffs against the bars. If you will come to your senses quickly, there may be time for a contest today."

"I don't want a contest," said Harry. He expected Snape to start lecturing him again, but Snape said nothing. After a moment, he left, his footsteps measured. Part of Harry wanted to call after Snape, tell him he was sorry and not to leave. He wanted Snape to kiss him and stroke his back and assure him everything would be fine. Malfoy had been right; Harry could be made to want almost anything. He was so weak and helpless, so twisted by this prison that not only did he want Snape, he needed him. He buried his head in his knees, hugging himself tightly.

~

He stayed there, wrapped in misery and pain until the call of nature propelled him out of bed and to the toilet. He finished his business and then washed his hands, splashing cold water on his face. The ring in his nipple moved when he walked and he hated the feel of it rubbing against his skin. He gripped it with the desire to rip it out, but he imagined that would cause him pain and he refused to endanger Snape. Harry reluctantly released it and trudged over to the bars. He didn't want to see Snape, but he wanted his dinner and, the more time he was stuck in his cell, the less time he was training. He rapped a manacle against the bars and returned to his bed to wait.

Harry wanted Snape to lecture him so that he could have an excuse to be angry at him, but when Snape entered, his eyes immediately went to the ring piercing Harry's nipple.

"If I don't remove that soon, I will be unable to remove it without giving you a painkiller." Snape strode over to the bed, pausing before Harry. He reached down and pinched the hoop of the ring between his thumb and index finger. The movement of the circle of metal in the delicate bit of flesh sent a shiver through Harry and he bit his lip as he waited for Snape to extract it. Snape whispered a spell and the ends parted again, turning the ring from a continuous circle to a broken one with two pointed ends. Snape removed the ring with one swift twist of his fingers that made Harry jump in surprise.

"Ouch!" Harry cried, even though he was more startled than hurt.

Snape's brow furrowed. "Do you need a painkiller?"

"No, I'm fine." Harry closed his eyes. Something warm and wet touched his nipple and he glanced down to see Snape rubbing a potion into his skin.

"Turn around so that I may examine your back." Snape dipped his fingers in a jar that was floating beside him.

Harry turned around, kneeling on the bed. Snape examined Harry's wounds, pressing his fingers flat against Harry's ribs as he dabbed the potion into the holes.

"Tonight I will have to hurt you," Snape reminded him. Harry couldn't wait for it. Once Snape hurt him, he would hate it when Snape touched him. The scent of Snape wouldn't be arousing but would fill him with disgust the way it was meant to be.

"I realise this is not an ideal time for torture; however, the Dark Lord will arrive tomorrow and I must have a memory for him. I placed a mild aphrodisiac in your pumpkin juice in order to help you play your role." Snape paused and then added, "As always, if you say 'stop,' I will, but you must try to bear it as best you can."

"I can do it."

Snape silently healed Harry's back. When he was finished he stepped away from Harry and washed his hands in the sink. "Are you hungry?"

He wasn't, but he had the feeling he would feel even sicker after Snape was finished with him. Better to eat now when he could still keep down his food. "Yes."

Snape tapped the table twice with his wand, procuring dinner for Harry and tea for himself. Harry slid off the bed and into his chair, fixing his eyes on his meal which was composed of baked chicken breasts, green beans, and rice. He eyed the pumpkin juice warily before taking a sip. He ate without looking at Snape, his eyes on his food.

When Harry was half-way through his meal, he asked without lifting his eyes from his plate, “How can I break out of my cuffs?”

After a short pause, Snape answered, “Destructive Dark Magic, cast directly at the cuffs. This method will also enable you to destroy chains or any other conjured item.”

“How Dark?” Harry asked as he raised his head. “Will a Sectumsempra destroy it or do I need them to cast something like the Killing Curse?”

Snape watched Harry with a blank face. “The Sectumsempra is sufficient. The magic must be Dark enough to result in the destruction or removal of your hand should you be careless enough to allow the spell to strike your wrist.”

Harry waited, expecting Snape to add a line or two about how he was clumsy and/or stupid and Snape would be amazed if he managed to lose the cuffs instead of a hand, but Snape merely sipped his tea, his eyes fixed on the table. Harry was tempted to goad Snape into a fight in order to pretend that Snape's cruelty was due to his anger rather than because it was required by Voldemort. However, he was afraid that Snape would regard him as too undisciplined to perform properly and would refuse to perform until he had calmed himself. The last thing he wanted was to wait any longer for Snape to hurt him. Already the knowledge that, any minute now, Snape would turn what had been an enjoyable activity into one of torment was a terrible shadow between them.

Harry welcomed the change. He would no longer want sex. He would no longer want Snape.

[[The good times couldn't last for long. This is NoG after all!]]