Blackmail

Chapter Six



Severus and Harry spent the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms. As soon as Harry had stopped crying, Severus had escorted him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. His love visibly tensed when his black boxers were removed and as soon as they pooled at Harry’s delicate ankles Severus saw why. Blood had dried to his backside and upper thighs, proof of what horrible deeds Harry had endured at the hands of Voldemort last night.



Severus looked into green eyes that were quickly diverted away in shame seconds later. Wisely Severus kept his expression calm and loving (while fuming at Voldemort inside) as he gently brought Harry’s face back to his own. Tears had welled up in those emerald orbs once again, and Severus smiled and kissed them away, silently telling his love that everything would be all right.



While the two of them bathed together, they continued to hold the silence, simply feeling content finally being able to be in the presence of each other.



The rest of the weekend was spent in much the same way. Severus and Harry remained in each other’s arms while they slept, ate and Harry cried. Every time those tears spilled down the beautiful face, Severus would sooth Harry with gentle touches and soft kisses.



All too soon Sunday afternoon came and went and Severus watched as Harry became more and more distressed.



Outside their room Severus suddenly heard the fast and purposeful walk that could only be the Dark Lord. As soon as Harry heard this too silent tears began to roll down his cheeks again.



The doors slammed open and Voldemort stood imposingly in the entrance.



“Did the two lovers have a good weekend?” the Dark Lord mocked as he slid inside. Those red eyes directly focussing on the brat gripping Severus’ robes like his life depended on it.



“Let him go, my Lord,” Severus was back to pleading, hardly a glimmer of self-pride and respect buried in his ebony eyes. “Harry has been through enough. I will sign a Magical Contract for you, binding my services to you forever! Just let him go… Please.”



Voldemort remained silent for a few moments, as if contemplating this idea, before outright laughing at how low this once highly dignified and opulent man had sunk.



Harry Potter truly was Severus Snape’s weakness.



Small fingers gripped the cloak in fear and Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight. He was absolutely terrified by being in the possession of this monster and not even Severus could save him.



Without another word, Voldemort ceased his laughter, walked over to the cuddling couple and wrenched them apart with a grip in Harry’s messy black hair. The boy whimpered and Severus almost stepped forward to put a stop to this rough handling, but stopped himself at the last second, realising that it would only cause more harm than good.



With a finally glance Harry was led away from his love to deal with the sadism of his tormentor.



*************



Weeks past and Harry and Severus followed this new routine.



Severus would brew countless potions both day and night, not being able to sleep lest dreams of how Voldemort tortured Harry invaded his mind. Sometimes the Dark Lord would have them tested on Harry – Severus always cringed at the harmful and humiliating results – and sometimes he would simply come down to observe his personal Potions Master work. Severus made sure never to blotch up a potion.



As for Harry, he had refused to talk no matter who was in his presence ever since the bight of his first rape. Voldemort thought it amusing that the boy was breaking so quickly. Severus worried for his love, knowing that they would eventually be saved, but at what state would Harry be in when the time came, and could it be reversed?



But what worried Severus the most was the time that they spent in their weekend room.



When he had first suggested it, Severus had believed that some contact with each other would help Harry to say strong and trust in the power and cunning of the Order to find them and successfully rescue them. But as time went on, Severus was cursed to watch, as Harry would draw more and more in on himself.



Together in the weekend room, Severus would reach out to his boyfriend, trying to form some innocent physical connection between each other. Harry accepted it gratefully to begin with, but as the weeks crawled by he would pull away, not even looking at Severus.



Severus had tried to talk to the boy, calmly, reasonable, and forcefully – anything to get Harry to understand that he shouldn’t give in, but nothing worked.



At night they would sleep in the same bed, albeit as far apart from each other as possible, and when Severus would scoot over hoping that Harry was less inclined at night to dodge the contact, Harry would still move away, sometimes he’d even sleep on the floor.



*************



One afternoon, nine weeks into the imprisonment, Voldemort came down to the dungeons to order another potion to brew. The Dark Lord was almost gleeful at how depressed his two captives were becoming and the future was looking bright, considering that Dumbledore infernal ‘Order’ hadn\'t been able to find him and interrupt his plans.



Severus didn’t look up when Voldemort walked in, diligently stirring a Castration Concoction and wishing with every bone in his body that Voldemort didn’t test this particular potion on Harry.



There were a few minutes of silence where only the flickering of fire and bubbling of brew could be heard.



Finally, getting frustrated, Severus looked up at the Dark Lord.



“Yes, Master? What is it that I can to for you?”



Voldemort smiled an evil and eerie smile and stepped closer to Severus.



“There is a potion I need immediately,” he informed, not once taking his red eyes off his prisoner.



Severus sighed felling doomed for all eternity, “This one is ready to simmer for a few hours,” he said while covering it is up, “So what is the name of the potion you need, my Lord?”



The smile didn’t waver, “I want a Pregnancy Identification Potion as soon as possible, compatible with the male forms of conception.”



Severus’ eyes widened at the request, but before he could ask any questions, Voldemort turned his heel and left. What did this mean exactly? He hadn\'t been ordered to brew any form of potion that would render a male pregnant. Then again, there were the rare occasions two powerful wizards could conceive naturally.



He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.



Was this potion for Harry?



*************



By nightfall, Voldemort was back down in the dungeons. Severus had built up his resolve to question his master about the request, but as soon at the vial was in the Dark Lord’s hand, he was gone again.



Severus was unable to concentrate on any more potions that night.



*************



Up in his large, spacious bedroom, Voldemort flung the brat out of his cage with a flick of his wrist and the boy landed heavily on the floor, letting out a little whimper.



The Dark Lord quickly wrenched Harry’s head up by black locks, put the uncorked vial against trembling lips and ordered, “DRINK!”



Harry, though terrified at having to drink another potion, obeyed, and when the last drop was gone he was left to kneel in the middle of the bedroom.



Nothing happened for a few moments until the room occupants heard a faint ‘pop’. Harry flinched at the sound that broke the silence, and saw that a rolled up piece of parchment was now imbedded in the vial he just drank from. Voldemort slipped it out, unrolled it and read the contents.



Harry watched the scary smile grow on the lipless mouth.



“I have wonderful news, Harry! Your Pregnant.”



Harry almost fainted then and there, but there was one thing he had to know.



“Do you know who’s it is?” Harry timidly whispered, speaking for the first time in months.



The smile never faltered.



*************