Nights of Gethsemane

Harry's eyes flew open. He could see nothing but muddled colours, as if he were looking at a watercolour painting through a dirty window. He tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey his commands to move.

"Snape," he croaked out into the fuzziness, shifting his head to try to make some sense of where he was. Suddenly, the horrors of the previous evening washed over him in vivid detail and his throat closed up. He'd been so stupid last night! How could he have said Snape's name in front of Voldemort?

"Snape! Snape!" he wheezed again and again, terrified there wouldn't be an answer; that he had given them away and Snape had been taken from him. Killed even, for his treachery, for stepping in to save him.

A dark spot, like a giant blot of black ink, appeared and Harry lunged towards it, grabbing at the folds of fabric.

Hands pushed Harry away. "I am here. Go back to sleep." Snape's voice sent a shiver of happiness through Harry who tried to pull himself forward into the darkness that was Snape. Snape pushed him back down on the bed, his hands soft.

"Don't leave me."

Cool fingers stroked across the side of Harry's face. "Sleep now."

"Don't leave me," Harry searched in the darkness, trying to clutch onto something more substantial than black cloth.

"I won't leave you." Snape pressed something cold and hard against Harry's lips. "Drink this."

Harry opened his mouth and allowed Snape to pour the sweet-tasting potion down his throat. When he finished swallowing the thick sedative, he closed his eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" asked Snape. "For what?"

"I betrayed us," said Harry, the guilt so heavy inside of him he thought he would burst unless he spoke it. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't betray us," Snape said quietly, brushing Harry's fringe to the side. "You performed well."

"I'm sorry. I... I killed her."

"Stop it," Snape's sharp voice tore into the silence, hurting Harry's ears. "You didn't kill anyone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We will talk more when you have recovered. Now sleep."

"I should've ... should've left her in the tank." Sleep swept over him again and he drifted off.

"It wasn't your fault." Snape's voice sounded far away even though his hand still rested upon Harry's chest.

He had to struggle to get the words out, but still he said "I should've...." before finally drifting off into the blissfulness of sleep.

~

When Harry woke next, he had to take a leak. He tried lifting his legs but they refused to move as if they were under Petrificus Totalus. Unable to move his legs beyond an inch, he wiggled his way towards the edge of the bed and fell over the side. Luckily, he dragged along most of the blankets with him and the fall didn't hurt. Then again, nothing hurt. Not even his back. He tried to free himself from the tangle of blankets, but there was crimson everywhere and his hands had trouble grasping the sheets.

"You are your own worst enemy." Snape rescued Harry from the blankets, then scooped his hands under Harry's armpits to pull him up. "You need to rest."

"I need to use the loo," insisted Harry as he tried to pull away from Snape's arms towards the toilet.

Snape tightened his grip on Harry. "You need to sleep so that you will heal." His magic lifted Harry, an arm supporting Harry's shoulder and a hand slipping under his knees.

Harry warned him, "I'm either pissing in the toilet, on the bed, or on you."

"You should not be awake," Snape sighed as he carried Harry over to the loo. He set him down, but Harry's legs weren't strong enough to support him, and he fell forward before Snape caught him and propped him back up. He fumbled with his dick and Snape, with a grunt of impatience, grabbed his dick and directed it toward the toilet bowl.

"Ah...." Harry sighed with relief as he let loose a thick stream into the bowl. When he was finished, Snape carried him back to the bed.

Harry said, "I wanna train," as Snape arranged him on the mattress.

"I've given you enough tranquilisers to sedate a juvenile dragon. You should be dead, not trying to walk around."

"You tried to kill me?" Harry asked, perplexed as to why Snape would do such a thing.

"No, I tried to keep you unconscious." Snape's cold fingers found Harry's neck again. "The sedatives are less effective on you for some reason."

"I'm a Squid," explained Harry.

"What?"

"A Squid. No Magic. That's why they don't work."

"You mean a Squib."

"No magic," Harry agreed, nodding his head.

A bright pulse of light suddenly appeared, scorching Harry's blurry eyes and he squeezed them shut. Snape peeled back Harry's right eyelid, forcing the eye open as he shone the light directly into the sensitive eye.

"Stop it," Harry protested, trying to knock Snape's hand away. His arm refused to lift and Snape released the right to hold open the left.

"Don't-" But Snape had finished with Harry's eyes and the light disappeared.

Something cool and tingly touched Harry's right arm just below the elbow and he glanced down to see Snape using some sort of device to rub something into his skin. His poor eyesight prevented him from recognising what the object was, but even with his muted senses, the press of a needle into his skin was unmistakable and Harry tried to jerk away. No needles. "Stop it! Don't!"

"Hold still." Snape pushed down on Harry's ribcage.

"Take it out!"

"Potter." Snape jerked the device away from Harry's arm and released his chest. "Do you wish to train?"

"Yeah," Harry said hopefully, stilling.

"Then stop fussing like a first year, and allow me to heal you. If you aren't healed then you won't be training today, tomorrow, or even next week."

"Next week?" Harry protested, pushing himself upright. He couldn't wait a week. In a week, Malfoy would get him and then-

"Yes, Potter. Next week and perhaps even next month if you do not lie still and allow yourself to heal! Now lie back!" Snape punctuated his words with a forceful push that dropped Harry back against the mattress. Splaying his hands over Harry's chest, he chanted softly in Latin. A tingling sensation appeared at the top of Harry's head and flowed down through his body. He could feel it, moving through his body like the snakes that had squirmed.

"No. No bugs."

"There are no bugs. I am simply using a spell to monitor your vitals and examine you internally," explained Snape as the tingling traveled down Harry's throat. "You aren't responding as expected to most of the potions I have been giving you."

"I'm a Squib, that's what's wrong with me. I'm supposed to have magic."

"Potter, you make even less sense than usual, and considering some of the asinine things I've heard you say while lucid, that's quite an accomplishment. Now stop prattling nonsense and relax."

Harry kept his mouth shut, concentrating on the spell which dissipated when it reached his genitals.

"What happened?" Harry asked when Snape lifted his hands from Harry's chest. "Is something wrong?"

"There is nothing unusual beyond your normal deficiencies," announced Snape.

"But what if something's wrong with my cock or legs? Look at them."

Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry. "Unless you have been engaging in some sort of bizarre behaviour that you've neglected to inform me about, there is no reason for me to examine those areas."

"You should look," insisted Harry. "Just in case."

Harry felt his body being lifted up into the air and he lay limp, letting Snape rotate him onto his stomach and then lower him onto the mattress again. As he maneuvered Harry, Snape mused aloud, "I wonder if I increased the dosage if you would pass out or die first."

"You can't kill me," Harry said. "I'm going to kill Voldemort."

"Potter, if you can't speak clearly then refrain from trying. While most of what you blather about is inconsequential even while you are lucid, occasionally you do manage to come up with something relatively insightful. However, I have no desire to sift through your nearly inaudible mumbling waiting for the rare moment of sapience."

"I need to kill Voldemort," Harry said more clearly.

Snape peeled away something that felt like cling film from Harry's back. "Which won't be happening until you heal, so go back to sleep."

"I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy."

"At least attempt to go to sleep," Snape said in a brisk tone as he prodded Harry's back.

"I can't when you're poking me," said Harry. "Stop poking me, it feels strange."

"I long for the days when a single vial of Dreamless Sleep would leave you unconscious for eighteen hours." Snape smeared something cold and slimy over Harry's back.

Harry relaxed against the sheets, the soothing touch of Snape's hands sending him drifting. "It's your fault. You gave me too many drugs."

"If you weren't so stubbornly stupid, I wouldn't have had to. You Gryffindors have no sense of self-preservation. It's amazing you survive long enough to breed."

"I wanna breed," Harry mumbled into the pillow. "Or at least practice breeding. Sex is fun."

"I can now confirm that the barbiturates are affecting you, only not in a beneficial manner."

Harry lifted his head and asked Snape, "D'you think sex could help me heal faster?" After all, he felt most relaxed and sleepy right after he'd had an orgasm.

"Even if I were inclined to fuck you whilst you are drooling and otherwise acting like a lobotomy patient, I severely doubt that copulation has any curative properties -- bad erotic literature notwithstanding."

"Oh," Harry replied. He rested for a moment before adding, "I like sex. A lot." He let himself drift off, melting further into the sheets. "Y'know, you should try it sometime."

"I fail to see how it could have escaped your notice Potter, but I have had sex." Snape's hands returned to Harry's shoulders and it was far too relaxing to stay awake any longer. "Many times, in fact."

"No," Harry said around a yawn. "Getting fucked."

Sleep came fast.


~~~~~

When he woke, the room was dark. His cell was never dark and Harry blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He turned his head to the side and saw Snape on the bed beside him. How could Snape be on his small bed? Blinking at Snape as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he finally could make out that the oddly coloured object near Snape's hands was a book. Snape held the book open in one hand while his other hand stroked down the page as if he were reading with his fingertips. There was something special about those colours and shapes, but it took Harry a minute to remember what that was.

"Frankenstein," he said.

Glancing at Harry, Snape closed the book and sent it away in a cloud of black. "You're finally awake."

"I am?" asked Harry, blinking sleepily.

Snape reached across the bed to place his warm hand over Harry's forehead. "Your fever has broken."

The darkness made sense. "I'm in your room."

"Both sets of your sheets are in the laundry," said Snape as he removed his hand and left the bed. "Do you feel hungry?"

The only thing he felt was tired, as though all his life force had been drained from him. "No."

"You should attempt to eat unless you feel nauseated." Snape grabbed something off the bedside table and swept around the bed towards where Harry rested. He placed the object, a bowl, on another small table and stepped over to Harry, hooking his hands under Harry's armpits. "Sit up."

Harry attempted to help him as best he could, but his limbs felt like rocks and his chest was covered in heavy bandages that restricted his movements to such an extent, that Snape ended up using magic to prop him into a sitting position. Spreading a towel over Harry's lap, Snape covered every inch of the soft bed covers within Harry's vicinity. He sat on the edge of the bed, retrieved the bowl, and offered Harry a spoonful of mush.

Harry accepted it; the warmth of the food helped to clear his senses and he ate quietly for a short while, letting his body slowly adjust to consciousness. Once he felt closer to normal than he had since he'd woken, he asked, "What's wrong with me?"

"You aren't responding as well to the treatments as you normally do," answered Snape as he scooped up another spoonful of porridge. "Based on your symptoms, I suspect a previously undiagnosed allergy weakened your immune system, causing you to be more susceptible to infection. Since I've begun treatment measures for both, you have improved considerably."

"What about those.... things that were inside me?" Harry shuddered at the memory.

Snape pursed his lips together so tightly they went white. When he spoke, his voice was tight. "Nothing was put inside of you. You were fed a hallucinogenic that made you more susceptible to suggestion."

"You're lying!" Harry clutched his stomach. "I could feel them! They were-!"

"Potter," Snape interrupted with a sharp voice. "It was all through the power of suggestion. I refused to allow them to actually engage in such behaviours for fear of the damage it could cause to your person."

Harry shook his head as if he could banish the memories with the movements. It had seemed so real. He knew that part of what he had experienced had been hallucinations, but he refused to believe that he had dreamt the entire sequence. "You can't tell me everything that happened in the throne room was fake. That girl was real, wasn't she?"

"Yes," confirmed Snape, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "However-"

"Don't tell me she was a Death Eater they were going to kill anyway. The girl who looked like Hermione was an innocent Muggle, wasn't she?"

The spoon paused in the bowl. "Yes, she was," Snape admitted in a soft voice.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"I knew you would blame yourself if you knew the truth." Snape sent the bowl away.

"It is my fault." Harry clenched his fists, staring down at them. How could it not be? They had been brought to their deaths for the sole purpose of being murdered in front of him. If he'd not been in this prison, then they wouldn't have died. He was responsible.

"Potter, for many years since before you were born, Muggles have been pulled off the streets and used for various purposes. I assure you, neither was selected simply to die by your hand."

It sounded like all the other lies and half-truths Snape spun to comfort him. "How can you be so sure?"

"If they had chosen Muggles specifically with you in mind, I know Lucius would have taken great pleasure in bringing in girls who had some connection to you or your friends," Snape pointed out. "You aren't responsible for their deaths any more than you are responsible for any other action undertaken here. The girls ultimately died to please Voldemort; not to torture you. It is the height of arrogance for you to believe that you are responsible for all the actions performed in the throne room. To them, you are nothing but a toy of the Dark Lord's with which they can occasionally play. There was nothing you could've done."

Harry shook his head in disbelief, but he was too exhausted to press the issue.

"Listen to me!" Snape grabbed Harry's chin and forced his head up, his dark eyes burning into Harry's. "What do you think would've happened had you not attempted to rescue her? They would've tortured her to death in front of you. Would you have preferred to see her thrown into a box of spiders, burnt until her throat gave out, given a hallucination-"

"Stop," pleaded Harry, trying to pull out of his grasp. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to remember what had just happened.

Snape's grip just grew tighter. "No, you listen," he growled, his voice fierce. "Torturing Muggles has always been a favourite pasttime of Death Eaters. You have saved many Muggle lives by allowing them to use you for their entertainment. You took the torture they would've used on her. You saved her from a long, excruciating death. What will your whinging bring you? You couldn't save her, you never could. No amount of guilt will bring her back from the dead. Cast aside your guilt and train to avenge her."

It was easy for Snape to say, but impossible for Harry to do. How could he just forget those girls who'd died in front of him? There were so many things he could've done differently. If he'd not been captured, then he would've been able to find the other Horcruxes and Voldemort would've been dead by now. So many 'what ifs' coursed through his head. He knew they were useless to think about, but still, he couldn't stop himself from feeling them. He couldn't help but think of those girls and what it must've been like for them -- so scared, confused, alone. Surrounded by laughing, jeering faces in a situation they couldn't understand. At least he had Snape. At least he had hope, a plan of escape, a conviction that he would survive through this. He thought of the girl whom Lucius had killed and how she had tried to speak to him before she died. His eyes burned and Snape released his chin, as if embarrassed by Harry's frailty.

"Potter, concentrate on what you can do rather than what you didn't."

Harry hated how coldly Snape ordered him to lose his guilt as if it were easy. As if the Death Eater had never felt any, and couldn't understand what it was like for Harry.

"Did you torture Muggles with them?" he asked, his eyes searching Snape's for the truth, for an admission of guilt.

Snape's face clouded over and he said, "I have."

"Did you enjoy it?"

Snape's eyes never flinched from Harry's face. In a steady voice, he admitted, "Yes. I created the potion Mulciber used on you."

It was what he expected Snape to say, but it still made him sick to hear it. "How could you? How could you treat people like that?"

Snape's sallow face remained focused on Harry's. In an even voice, he said, "I was angry and they were weaker than I. I did it simply because I could. That's how I know the girl's death didn't come about because of you. If you'd not been there, it would've been a Muggle mother and child, or a pair of lovers, or-"

Harry's heart felt like it was going to burst and he closed his eyes. Snape stopped speaking.

"And it doesn't bother you?" Harry asked in a low voice, his eyes still squeezed shut. "You don't feel any guilt?"

"Of course I do, but my responsibility is greater than yours. You've never killed anyone, much less an innocent."

Harry made a small noise of disagreement and Snape snapped, "Potter," in a tone so cold, Harry opened his eyes in shock.

"When you've decided to end this pointless bout of self-pity, inform me." Snape smoothly left the bed and brushed off his robes. "Until then, I have a Dark Lord I intend to vanquish which I will do with --or without-- your direct help. Once you've finished whinging and wish to return to work, rap your knuckles again the wall-"

"Wait a minute," Harry interjected. "I want to train. I want to destroy him --them-- for what they did." Just speaking the words made heat shoot up his chest and he clenched his fists in the sheets.

"You will train once your non-superficial injuries have-"

"Non-superficial? What's that mean exactly?"

Snape made a noise of disgust. "Superficial," he lectured in the same tone he used to use in his classroom, "is a term that pertains to the surface area, which in your case, would be your skin. I will use numbing potions to prevent you or the Dark Lord from feeling pain, but I will purposely allow the burns on your back to heal at a slow rate. If my calculations are correct, I should be able to delay your recovery by a full week-"

"What about Malfoy?!" Harry interrupted. "He's going to get me in a week! You said I'd be free in a week!"

"Calm down!" Snape fixed Harry with a glare. "Do you think I've forgotten? I must consider every variable, including that the Dark Lord might delay our plans by a few days." In a smoother voice, he continued, "Lucius will wait until you have recovered. He would rather wait a week to obtain you than acquire you while you are injured."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

"I have known Lucius for longer than you've been alive," Snape said sootily. "He prides himself on his possessions and he will only desire you as his personal toy while you are at the peak of health. In addition to his lack of desire to own a 'broken' toy, he has no inclination to play nursemaid, and the Dark Lord wishes to keep the Healers brought to you to a minimum. Finally, and most importantly, he is well aware that I have many concoctions which are harmless but would leave you feverish and weak for days, preventing him from having full enjoyment of you. He will want me to swear before the Dark Lord that you are healthy and completely recovered from any tortures before I hand you over to him."

"Why wouldn't he be suspicious that I'm taking so long to heal? I'm usually better in a few days."

"As I've already informed you," Snape said as he pinched his nose, "no one else is aware how well the potions and spells I've developed for you work. I am not a mediwizard and, with my other duties, cannot be expected to heal you as efficiently as a practitioner in the field. When one factors in the atypical spells that Mulciber used on you -- gathered from more intelligent colleagues no doubt -- it is quite impressive that I am able to heal you completely within a week's time."

Harry nodded to show his understanding. "Right, so what can we do now?"

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "Please speak clearly."

"You said that there was work I could do. What is it?"

Snape removed his wand from his robes and transfigured the bedside table into a comfortable looking chair. He swept into it, leaning back, and lacing his white fingers together across his abdomen. When he spoke, he used the easy conversational tone Harry preferred. "As you are undoubtedly aware, unless you managed to strike your head against the tiles harder than I thought, which is very possible considering the earlier 'conversation' we had-"

"Just get on with it." Harry crossed his arms.

Snape smirked before his face smoothed out to his normal expression. "In order to ensure the Dark Lord's defeat, we must destroy all of his Horcruxes as well as his body. I have debated the order of destruction which would be most beneficial to us. It is highly unlikely the Dark Lord has managed to create a Horcrux of which only he is aware for the reasons I stated earlier. However, it might be prudent for us to attempt to confirm that assumption by leaving one Horcrux intact before we attack his corporeal form. If he is in fear for his body, then he might retreat and possess another one of his Horcruxes. With two souls in the same object, he will have more power and control over that Horcrux.

"Of course, upon destruction of his body, we cannot predict to which Horcrux he will retreat. If he has another outside of our knowledge, he may decide to possess that one instead of Nagini. In order to reduce this chance, I suggest that we leave Nagini alive, to be destroyed after his death. He would be a complete fool not to suspect our suspicions of Nagini and if we surround her with possible allies, he will only possess her if he has no other choice."

"Why would he go to his Horcrux? Why wouldn't he just try doing what he did last time?"

"He knows that we hunt his Horcruxes and would not want to leave the ones that remain unguarded. It is possible that he might try to rise again the same as before, but as of now, we know how he can be raised, stopping him will be easy. I'd be very surprised if any bones remain from his father's body."

"Wait, what about the Diadem? We don't even know where it is."

Snape gave a nod. "After your insistence that it was to be found in Hogwarts, I've been using my sources to try to ascertain the dates of the Dark Lord's visits. I was able to confirm that the Dark Lord paid a visit to Hogwarts shortly after the Cup was removed from the vault; however, I do not know if he removed the Diadem from within the castle's confines or merely checked to see if it had been destroyed as well. As Hogwarts is currently the most well-guarded building in the UK, possibly in all of Europe, as well as completely under his control, I would be surprised if he had taken it from its confines. Of course, we must plan for either scenario."

"I'm sure it's there," Harry said. He had felt it was there for months and that feeling was only stronger now, especially after what he'd experienced the night before. Voldemort would've wanted his Horcruxes to be hidden somewhere nearly impenetrable and someplace he felt at home. At Hogwarts, especially now that he was in charge of it, he would be able to guard it more efficiently and effectively than anywhere else. Harry knew it was in the Chamber of Secrets. After all, only Harry and Voldemort could access the Chamber and Voldemort had been convinced that Harry remained a broken slave. A slow grin spread across Harry's face, but then another thought popped into his head, and he sat up so suddenly, Snape grabbed his wand.

Harry stared at Snape. "He was going to send us there. To Hogwarts. Where his Horcrux is."

Snape just looked at Harry, his face unreadable.

"That means...." Harry pondered. "Either he trusts us completely...." He almost didn't want to finish the sentence. "Or he isn't planning on sending us there at all."

Snape nodded slowly. "That was the other reason I have planned for our escape to occur before you are delivered to Lucius."

"Oh god," Harry whispered, chill spreading throughout his body. "What went wrong? Did I-?"

"He is as convinced of your servitude as he will ever be," Snape reassured him. "I believe he is simply tying up loose ends. How soon he will move I cannot say, but I imagine he first wants to test Lucius as a possible future guardian. I don't believe he will act within the week, I think it far more likely that he will find some excuse to refrain from sending either of us to Hogwarts. However, it is certainly only a matter of time."

Snape's voice was so calm and collected as if he were merely reciting what they would be dining on that evening, but Harry's heart was pounding hard and his fingers itched to touch Snape. He had always known that Snape was in danger by playing the spy, but the Potions Master was a master at lies and manipulations. He'd believed Snape would remain safe as long as they both played their parts well. Restraining his urge to grab onto Snape, he smoothed out the soft covers surrounding him.

"I won't let him kill you," Harry promised him. "I'll get him first. I swear it."

Snape leant forward in his chair. "You must promise me that you will focus on the Dark Lord. No matter what happens to me, you must destroy him. You may have to let me die and-"

"I couldn't! I can't just sit there-"

"You must! Potter..." he growled, his voice low. "If you throw away this plan on some desperate attempt to save me, or any other person for that matter, then he will win and all my planning will be for naught. If I do survive his initial attack, then he will surely finish me after he has finished you, and I do not want to see this plot go to shit due to your idiotic Gryffindor sense of heroics. If you deviate from your role to save anyone else, then I will strangle you myself, and if you throw it away to save me, then I will come back as a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your short, sorry life.

"And trust me, Potter," Snape lunged forward so suddenly that Harry scrambled towards the other side of the bed to get away from him. Snape leant across the bed, his black eyes glittering like a snake just about to strike. "If you thought being the Dark Lord's plaything was wretched, just try to imagine, as best you can with that feeble brain of yours, just how much more gruesome it would be to be the Dark Lord's plaything whilst under Lucius's control and haunted by the most vengeful ghost that ever existed. I would make your life hell far more than Lucius ever could and I've known Lucius long enough to know that such a claim is not stated lightly. You will spend the rest of your excruciating days wishing you had obeyed me and begging me for a mercy which will not be granted. Now promise me!"

"I promise!" swore Harry, his eyes wide at Snape's vehemence.

"Swear it on your mother! Swear on her grave that you will follow the plan until the very end and allow others to die if it enables you to defeat the Dark Lord!"

"I SWEAR IT!" yelled Harry. When he saw Snape's face curl up even more in anger he quickly added, "I swear it on my mother. I swear I won't try to save you, you arsehole!" Feeling a bit more calm, he added in a steady voice, "Or anyone else. Unless I can do it without endangering the plan."

Satisfaction crossed Snape's face and he stood up. "Come here." He motioned for Harry to approach him, his voice back to normal. "You shouldn't have moved so suddenly. Did you open any of your wounds?"

"I don't think so," said Harry with a greater measure of calm. He crawled across the bed towards Snape and plopped down with his feet over the edge. "If you don't want me to move like that then don't jump at me, you wanker."

"It is important that you obey me," Snape retorted. He removed his wand from his robe and traced a straight line down the front of Harry's bandages. "I will not have years of preparation thrown away because you decide to play the hero."

"What happens if he kills you tomorrow? What will I do?"

The bandages fell off and Snape sent them away with a flick of his wand. "He won't," he promised. His eyes were as confident as his voice. "There are a few things he needs from me first."

Snape knelt at the edge of the bed and spread Harry's legs, shifting between them. His dark eyes were focused on the scarred tissue that crossed Harry's abdomen, but all Harry could think of was the blowjob Snape had given him and all the heat in his body flowed straight to his groin. Snape traced the line of a scar with his fingertips and a slight tingling sensation spread through the wound as Snape prodded it with magic.

"It's healing well. I may have to use potions to delay it." Snape's breath was warm against Harry's belly and when he spoke, some of his hair fell forward, brushing against the tops of Harry's thighs. Harry tried to dampen his arousal, but it was like trying to catch the sea in a thimble and he raised a hand, lightly resting it on top of Snape's head.

His fingers pausing, Snape shot an irritated look up at Harry. "Potter, remove your hand this instant."

Harry removed his hand, but rather than lifting it straight up, he brushed back Snape's hair. "Your hair was tickling me."

"Tickling you?" Snape's dark eyes narrowed and the hand on Harry's stomach slid downwards, the bottom of it resting in Harry's thick cloud of dark pubic hair. Magic penetrated his abdomen, flowing through his gut.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, wishing he had magic so he could force that hand to slide further down.

Snape removed his hand and shifted slightly as he moved to touch Harry's chest. More of his hair fell forward, this time brushing Harry's rapidly hardening prick and Harry jumped, kneeing Snape in the chin.

"Potter!" Snape growled as he jerked back.

"The spiders! They tickled me." Snape's hair didn't feel anything like the spiders, but Harry wasn't going to admit the real cause for his tension, not so soon after he had suggested that Snape try getting buggered. That was exactly the wrong sort of thing to think about just then and Harry had to try very hard not to put his hands over his lap because then Snape's attention would immediately be drawn there. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea because then Snape would notice Harry's arousal and since he was down there already, he might-

Snape stood. "Turn around and kneel on the edge of the bed."

Reluctantly, Harry obeyed. Snape's fingers prodded his back, but it felt strange, as if the skin had been covered in a rubbery substance that dulled his senses.

"If you're going to leave it damaged, then how will I train?"

A jar opened behind Harry. "If your recovery continues at its current rate, then you should be able to train again tomorrow. However, I will use different methods of training you which will be less taxing to your system." Snape smeared more of the cold goo on Harry's back. "You have become quite accomplished in most of the basic tasks and we'll begin on the more advanced tasks soon, rather than wait for you to obtain mastery."

"There's not enough time," agreed Harry. "So what are we going to do next?"

"We will engage in ward detection training. Based on how proficient you are with spell detection, I predict that you will be able to master ward detection in general rather swiftly; however, due to your inexperience with wards, I imagine that learning to differentiate between the types of wards will require more effort."

"I can do it." Harry closed his eyes and leant into Snape's touch. "If I can dodge a Muffliato then I can detect wards. Wards are stationary."

"You will need to learn not only the major types," said Snape, "but also the proper responses for each one, which can be quite difficult. Otherwise you will trigger them instead of slipping past them unnoticed."

"What else do you think he has guarding his Horcrux besides wards? More Inferi? Poison? If it's in the Chamber of Secrets then I need to be there because I'm the only one besides Voldemort who can speak Parseltongue."

"Perhaps a recording of your voice can be used as well. Or you could teach me the words."

"I doubt I can just teach it to you," scoffed Harry, "or that you could imitate it. That doesn't make a lot of sense."

"We shall plan for all contingencies, including one where you are indisposed. If you leave, your cover will be broken. For that reason, it is best for you to remain here, at least for the time being."

"Not if he thinks that the Order kidnapped me. He might go to Hogwarts first, but he won't stay there for long, he'd be too busy hunting them down. I bet I could get in and destroy that Horcrux before he catches any of them, especially if you warned them first. You probably wouldn't have to warn them, I mean, he's hunting them down already right? And if they were easy to catch he should've found them by now."

Snape's fingers left Harry's back. "Accio bandages. Lift your arms." Steadying himself on the bed, Harry raised his arms and the bandages wrapped themselves around Harry's torso.

"I am not in contact with the Order," said Snape. "Besides, he would kill me for allowing you to be freed."

Despite his promise, Harry was unwilling to sacrifice Snape in such a manner. "You said that he planned to send you off to collect ingredients. Is there someone who can guard me that would leave me mostly alone?" He took a breath and drew himself up to his full height. With forced calm, he added, "I'll even take Avery..." he suppressed his mental shudder, "or Lucius, if it means we'll be rid of him."

"No," Snape growled. "I won't allow it."

Harry turned around to meet Snape's eyes. "I need to do this. I want to do this. Well, I chooseto do this." He paused to gather his thoughts as he tried to explain. "'Neither can live while the other survives.' Even if it wasn't a prophecy I'd still feel the same. I can take a few days of either of them if I know that he'll die sooner. I'd rather experience three days of torture knowing I'll defeat Voldemort at the end of it than three weeks of relative peace while he's out there, hurting people, and I could've stopped him and I didn't."

"It's not necessary." Snape shook his head, his intense, dark eyes never leaving Harry's. "It's far too risky as well. Lucius would bring you to his home from which rescue or escape would be near impossible. Avery," he scoffed and picked up the end of a second set of bandages to continue wrapping Harry. "Avery is deranged and convinced that I am allied to you. He might kill you out of devotion to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would surely destroy him for such a desperate act, but that would not return you to life. I've already planned to find someone more suitable for the position whilst I leave to hunt the Elder Wand and the last Horcrux, but you must remain here to uphold your cover." He finished wrapping Harry and attached the end of the bandage with magic. "You have nothing to fear from any other guard. They are forbidden from hurting you and sexually abusing you."

They could still sexually abuse him as Harry knew all too well from Malfoy. He didn't bother to correct Snape though, just simply smiled as if he believed him. If Snape worried about him, he wouldn't leave or would spend far too long selecting a guard who wouldn't try to harm him.

Snape strode towards the other side of the room. "You should try to ingest a stronger form of nourishment before you sleep again."

"I'm not very hungry."

Snape paused mid-stride and arched an eyebrow at Harry. "Not hungry?" he echoed.

"Yeah." Harry adjusted the pillows behind him. "I don't really feel much of anything. Too many drugs I guess."

"Not enough," countered Snape as he procured another bowl with a tap of his wand. "You always heal more quickly when you allow yourself time to sleep. Once you've finished your meal, I'll give you a re-designed sleeping potion." He transfigured a bed tray for Harry and set down a bowl of porridge.

"Why do you insist on drugging me? Why can't I just sleep when I want to sleep?" Harry picked up his spoon and began to shovel food into his mouth, not caring that he was doing a rather poor job of it. If Snape gave him shite, then he'd tell the wanker to try eating gracefully while drugged to the eyeballs.

"I've watched you strain yourself trying to perform some task of which you aren't capable, far too many times for me to allow you authority over your own care. Not to mention, I have no desire to rearrange my schedule to cater to your whims." Snape returned to the chair on the other side of the bed and fetched a mug of tea that he had conjured.

Harry'd not been hungry when Snape had suggested the meal, but the porridge had been flavoured just the way he liked and he focused on his food. When he finished, he leant back against the pillows. "What's my reward?"

"Your reward? Do you believe you deserve a medal for finishing your meal?" Snape cleared the bed of extraneous items with a swish of his wand.

"You said that you'd give me a reward if I performed perfectly last night."

"Indeed," said Snape in a tone that was anything but certain. The line between his eyebrows darkened for a bit, then he finally announced, "You may sleep in my bed tonight."

"While you sleep in mine?" asked Harry, disappointed. Snape's bed was very, very nice but that wasn't much of a reward.

With a snort, Snape said, "I wasn't planning on sleeping tonight."

Harry crossed his arms. "You fucking me is my reward? That's your reward!"

Snape flushed. "I won't be anywhere near the bedroom!"

Harry enjoyed having a go at Snape and saw no reason to let up now. "You have to give me a blowjob. A blowjob and a massage."

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched and he arched an eyebrow at Harry. "You've become quite demanding."

"Right, so a massage, a blowjob, and then sleeping --or not sleeping-- in your bed."

Snape stood up and marched over to Harry's side of the bed, his robes swirling around him. Harry stared at the advancing cloud of black in surprise. He had just been taking the mickey, but it looked as though Snape had thought him to be serious.

Snape paused beside the bed and raised his hand. Dumbfounded, Harry just stared at it. His dark eyes on Harry, Snape waved his hand at the cabinet to his right and the doors flew open. A potion in a small, black bottle jumped off the shelf and into his hand. "My newest sleeping draught," Snape announced as he offered it to Harry.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Hence the sleeping draught."

"I've slept all day."

"Unfortunately, you've not."

"Can't I read instead? You can brew or whatever while I read."

"For the thousandth time, Potter, 'may I'. How-"

Sensing Snape would shortly embark on a long-winded rant about Harry's stupidity, he blurted out, "I want to read Frankenstein."

Snape fixed Harry with a scowl. "I know it did not escape your notice that I am in the process of reading that work."

"Fine," muttered Harry, matching his scowl to Snape's. "Then I want to read that book." He jammed a finger at the blue book-like object that rested on the bedside table.

"Very well." Snape strode over and snatched up the book. "You will read this or sleep. Agreed?"

"Yeah."

Snape tossed the book onto the bed beside Harry. Harry slid it closer.

Roast Chicken and Other Stories by Simon Hopkinson. In disbelief, Harry picked it up and opened it to a random page. The chapter to which he had opened the book was on chocolate and the page read 'I agree with the late Roald Dahl that the British chocolate bar is the best in the world....' Harry glanced over the rest of the chapter, finding six recipes for chocolate desserts. It was a bloody cookbook!

"The sleeping draught." Snape held out the bottle with a very self-satisfied look on his face.

Harry was tempted to refuse the potion and insist on reading the cookbook, but all this talk of sleep was making him tired and there was no way a cookbook was going to help him get out of this place and defeat Voldemort. Glaring at Snape, he snatched the bottle out of Snape's hand, fumbled with the corked lid, and poured the thick sedative down his throat. Swallowing hard, he re-corked the bottle and handed it back.

"When I wake, I'm training.

Snape vanished the bottle. "When you wake," he said.

Too late, Harry realised that once he was unconscious, he'd be unable to stop Snape from slipping more potions down his throat. "Don't drug me anymore. I need to train again." He lay back against the pillows, nuzzling them with his cheek.

"You will train when you have recovered." Snape placed cold fingers on Harry's neck.

"Cold," muttered Harry, trying to push away the fingers but his hand was too heavy to move. Snape slid his fingers down Harry's neck, across his shoulder, and down the length of his arm. Either Snape's new recipe was more effective or Harry was more tired than he thought, because he slipped into unconsciousness before Snape reached his elbow.