Remorse

Chapter 8 ~ Harry's Turn

Harry looked at Snape, who was sitting on his heels at the bottom of the bed, his body sweaty, his damp hair clinging to his shoulders, his organ stretched out before him still hard. The scent of sex filled the room. The pale wizard’s eyes seemed to be made of black ice as he glared at Harry.

“Get back in the bed, and lie on your back, Mr. Potter,” the wizard said, his voice deceptively soft. “Your turn.”

Harry swallowed, then looked back at Hermione. Her eyes were round and pain-glazed, her arms wrapped around her belly. She rocked a little as she gazed back at him.

“Miss Granger didn’t speak to you damn it! I did! Get your arse in this bed!” Snape shouted at him, startling Harry, who obediently did what he asked.

Snape removed the ropes from Harry's ankles, then dragged him further down the bed and climbed over him, resting his long tool against his belly.

“So, it finally comes to this, Mr. Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Destroyer of the Dark Lord,” he sneered down at the wizard. “You wouldn’t have accomplished anything if not for me! You’d be worm food if you went against Voldemort without my support. You’re going to give me my apology, Mr. Potter. If I have my way, the entire world will hear you scream it!”

Snape sat back on his heels and lifted Harry’s legs to his shoulders, then fell forward, spreading them and opening up Harry. He looked down at him.

“You’ve got a lot of action, haven’t you, Potter?” he hissed, spitting into his hand and rubbing it over his already coated member so it glistened.

“Well you haven’t had any action like mine,” he breathed, positioning himself against Harry, snarling down at the wizard.

Snape thrust forward brutally, Harry’s hoarse cry ringing through the entire house as he penetrated him.

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Up to this point, Harry’s sexual interludes were with wizards of his own age, none as well-endowed as the Professor or as brutal. Harry was used to careful, stuttered penetrations, his partner taking time to enter him fully.

It was not so with Snape. The wizard plowed through him in one powerful lunge, immersing himself completely, snarling as he impaled the young wizard painfully, a look of triumph in his dark eyes as Harry screamed.

Snape held himself deep inside Harry, his face contorted with hatred.

“Out of the two of you, Mr. Potter, it is you I have the most issues with. I spent six years of my life protecting you, being tortured for you, having to endure your foolishness and arrogance, watching everyone swell your head, making you believe you were more than what you were,” the wizard hissed down at him.

Snape pulled back and slammed into Harry again, tearing through him brutally as Harry cried out again, his eyes watering.

“And after all my sacrifice concerning you, it was you who nearly killed me with the Cruciatus curse, you who had me publicly scourged and you who sent me to Azkaban to be brutalized for more than a year. Miss Granger was there, but she kept you from killing me, which is why I spared her the pain I could have caused . . . ”

Snape looked over at Hermione.

“You do know I could have done much more damage to you, don’t you witch? Thank me for being merciful,” he hissed at her.

Hermione stared at the wizard, who was raised up on his hands, his loins resting against Harry’s buttocks, buried to the hilt inside the young wizard. Ashamed as she was to think it, Hermione was glad it wasn’t her under the wizard with his tool inside her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, shuddering.

Suddenly, Snape grabbed Harry by the throat with one hand and began to choke him, ramming him brutally. Harry’s mouth moved silently as he gasped for air.

“You will have no mercy,” he seethed as Hermione screamed and jumped up from the chair, running toward the bed.

“You’re killing him!” she screamed.

Snape released Harry’s throat long enough to thrust his palm at Hermione, the witch flying backwards and landing in the folding chair, the chair sliding back into the wall, the witch invisibly bound to it. This time Snape wrapped both hands around Harry’s throat and took him brutally, squeezing his neck tightly, Harry trying to pull his pale hands away as the wizard painfully rammed him over and over. Harry began to purple and Snape relaxed his grip slightly so the wizard could draw a breath. Finger marks were around Harry’s neck.

“You arrogant son of a bitch!” Snape cursed, spittle flying out of his mouth as he reamed Harry violently. “Ugh . . . ugh. How do you like it, Mr. Potter?”

Harry’s body was jerking roughly, the wizard crying out hoarsely as Snape pulled back popping out of him, then brutally ramming back in. He did this several times, withdrawing completely before plowing back into the wizard, Harry’s head twisting from side to side, trying to relax his body so it wouldn’t hurt so badly.

“Stop it!” Hermione screamed at Snape, who looked at her, then rose up on his knees, pushing one of Harry’s legs off his shoulder and holding the other straight against his chest, thrusting into the wizard lustfully, rolling his hips, looking back over at Hermione with a cruel smirk on his face as Harry arched, his glasses askew, his voice going raw.

“Stop, Miss Granger? I’ve only just begun,” the pale wizard crooned, slamming into Harry rapid-fire to punctuate his words.

“Oh gods!” Harry cried out.

“Hurts, does it, Mr. Potter?” Snape said to him, his lip curled. “Do you think this matches the Cruciatus curse, or the scourge? Or maybe I’m coming close to the brutality of the Azkaban guards who took me repeatedly because of you. You . . . Mr. Potter!”

Once again Snape fell forward and grasped Harry’s throat with one hand, choking him as he rode him, Hermione begging him to stop, Harry making horrible noises as he feebly clutched at the wizard’s wrist. Snape let him go, and pulled out of the wizard with a pop, rising to his knees and looking down on the wizard, his eyes still full of hate.

Harry looked up at him, his green eyes wet. He fixed his glasses.

Hermione held her breath, hoping the wizard was finished with him.

But Snape wasn’t. The wizard shifted over and lay down on the side of Harry, pushing him roughly.

“Roll on your side,” Snape hissed, spooning around Harry, lifting his leg and entering him from behind, Harry gasping . . . though it didn’t hurt as much. Then Snape snaked his arms under Harry’s shoulders and locked him in a painful full nelson, tilting his head forward and holding him securely as he plunged in and out of him.

“Arrrrrgh!” Harry groaned as the wizard jerked his body down into his thrusts, his loins slapping against Harry. Snape’s lips were drawn back from his teeth and sweat poured off his body as he worked in and out of the-boy-who-irked-him.

Hermione was mesmerized as she watched Snape shag Harry like some kind of machine . . . never slowing, never easing up, plowing into him violently, only hate on his face as he wreaked his revenge. With Hermione, he had evidenced some pleasure, but his face was screwed up in concentration. This was pure punishment . . . pure malice . . . all about pain and humiliation.

Tears fell helplessly from Harry’s eyes as he gritted his teeth against the pain. Snape had him pinned securely and his neck and shoulders were aching, as well as his body. It felt as if Snape was shoving a Quidditch bat inside him, he was so big.

“No more sounds for me, Mr. Potter?” Snape hissed. “I want to hear you, boy! Get on your knees!”

Snape released Harry and watched as he slowly crawled to his knees. Snape moved behind him and claimed him brutally, Harry once again crying out as he was penetrated. Snape grabbed Harry’s waist for balance, then rose to one foot, then the other, crouching, his knees on either side of Harry. Once against he slipped his arms under the wizard’s shoulders and locked his hand behind his neck, curled around the wizard . . . then he tore into him, yanking Harry back into his massive organ, stroking for all he was worth, Harry screaming now, his body on fire.

“Oh my gods!” Hermione cried as she watched the wizard shagging Harry. She thought she saw blood on Snape’s organ now. “Professor Snape . . . he’s bleeding . . . please . . . please stop it! Stop it!”

Harry was bleeding, his rectum torn from such rough treatment, his colon slick now as Snape continued plunging in and out of him and didn’t stop as Harry screamed in agony. The wizard was too far gone, his need for vindication taking over. He shagged Harry in this manner for nearly fifteen minutes, both Harry and Hermione screaming hysterically, the wizard barely hearing them as he approached climax.

Suddenly he pulled out of Harry, flipped him over and straddled his chest, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head forward as he ejaculated with a roar.

“Swallow!” he bellowed at Harry, who helplessly did so . . . weak and pale, trembling under the wizard, ejaculating himself. Snape felt the wizard’s release splash his back and slapped him hard, still in Harry’s mouth.

“How dare you?” he snarled, pushing his deflating organ deeper into his mouth angrily. “You sick little bastard. You still got off. Fuck it.”

He pulled out of Harry’s mouth and gripped his cheeks in one hand, his dark eyes flashing.

“Now, apologize Mr. Potter,” he breathed.

Harry blinked up at Snape, his body wracked with pain, his arse burning.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Professor Snape,” he said weakly. “Forgive me.”

Snape took a deep breath, relaxing as if a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“You are absolved, Mr. Potter . . . and free to go,” he said darkly. But he didn’t tell Harry to get out of the bed as he did Hermione. Instead, he climbed off of Harry, flipped him to his stomach and parted his cheeks, looking down at his bleeding rectum. The wizard looked over at Hermione, who stared back at him with horror and revulsion in her eyes.

He smirked at the witch, then pressed two fingers against Harry's injury and muttered a long incantation. Harry felt a sharp pain and screamed as it felt as if needles were being pulled through his already inflamed flesh . . . then the pain died away. Snape removed his bloody fingers and wiped them on the sheet.

“Get the fuck out of my bed, Mr. Potter,” Snape said coldly.

Hermione looked at Snape strangely. He had healed Harry. Why, when he could have sent him on his way bleeding and in pain?

Snape looked at Hermione, his hair stuck to his face, his body shining as if oiled. His face lost its hard look for a moment as he waved his hand and released the witch from the chair.

“I did it, Miss Granger, because contrary to common belief . . . I have a soul and a conscience. I am satisfied,” he said silkily as Harry silently climbed out of the bed, rubbing his neck. “I feel no need for Mr. Potter to suffer pain beyond my act of retribution. He has returned the blood I lost for him. As I said . . . I am satisfied.”

Harry walked up to Hermione, his eyes glistening. She rose and embraced him.

“We got through it, Harry,” she whispered to him. It didn’t matter they were both naked. Snape watched them, his face sober. He knew it would take more than this to destroy what they had . . . but he had managed to cause a small rift, to pull them apart for a few moments. They would always remember that. It would be a sore point at least.

The wizard thrust his palm at the pair, scourgifying them. He did nothing for Hermione’s ache however.

“Get dressed and get out,” the wizard said, climbing out of the bed. Harry looked at the blood drying on the wizard’s member, then met his eyes. He didn’t say anything as Snape’s eyes glinted at him.

Snape scourgified himself, pulled on his boxers and picked up his robes and slid them over his body. He opened the bedroom door.

“You can collect your wands on the way out,” he said, exiting and closing the door behind him.

Hermione and Harry dressed in silence, then exited the bedroom, navigating the tight stairwell. Snape was sitting in the armchair, their wands in his hands. He held them out.

Harry and Hermione walked up and grasped them, attempting to take them. Snape held on to them for a moment as they tugged, his eyes glittering. Then he let go.

“Get out!” he snarled.

Harry and Hermione looked at him a moment, then turned together and walked to the front door. Harry opened it, and Hermione turned to look back at the Professor. He had his big nose buried in a tattered issue of Potions Today.

Hermione’s eyes washed over him, and his eyes flicked up for a moment and narrowed before returning to the magazine. Hermione walked through the door and Harry followed.

It was over. They had paid their dues to Professor Severus Snape.