In the Lurking Darkness
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
4,091
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
4,091
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Nine
~*~
Five hours later, Severus’ mind was still screaming from the agony/ecstasy his Master had put him through. The combination of spells to give pleasure and pain always left him confused and dazed. He didn’t remember coming home, but knew he was safe by the larger than human brown eyes watching over him and the small, soft hand stroking his hair.
He felt something cool pressed to his lips and swallowed instinctively. He grimaced at the bitter taste of a healing potion and tried to bat the hand away. He didn’t want to be healed, he only wanted to sleep. The little hand was persistent, however, and he was too weak to protest much.
He sighed and leaned back into the warm, plush blankets as a cool cloth was placed over his forehead, careful not to cover his eyes, and another ran gently down his torso. The touch was gentle enough not to scare him, but firm enough not to tickle the overly sensitive skin. He moaned and shuddered fearfully when the cloth moved down his still sweating body, but a low, sweet voice talked softly and the hand continued to stroke his hair. He managed to get through the intimate cleaning with a few whimpers, but not a lot of pain.
Severus couldn’t help crying out when the gentle hands rolled him onto his stomach, which was well bruised and not yet healed fully by the potions he had drank. He was soothed by the calm voice and steady hands, his pain fading even as his fears grew. Those were soon soothed away as well, though, as one hand again stroked his hair, while the other worked quickly to clean the dried blood, sweat, and semen from his abused body.
He gave a shuddering sigh as he was turned again, this time onto his side facing the door. It was his preferred sleeping position as it placed his back to a solid form and gave him quick access to the door and anyone who may come through it. His eyes fluttered open momentarily and he saw again big brown eyes, watching him sadly as a soft blanket was pulled over him and tucked in around him. Once the movement and touching stopped, Severus quickly fell into a quiet sleep.
~*~
The next morning, Harry watched Snape closely, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the paler than usual face, his slow movement and his lack of appetite. He sighed sadly, helplessly, as Snape stared unseeing at his plate. He had learned so much about his mysterious teacher and the more he learned, the more he ached to help him.
As Harry and his friends rose to leave, a cool dark voice called out to him.
“Potter, a moment if you would?” Snape asked quietly. Harry nodded and told his friends he would catch up to them in the library, then followed Snape down into the dungeons. Snape led Harry into his office and closed the door behind them.
“I… I wanted to thank you,” Snape spoke hesitantly. Harry gave him a curious look.
“For what?” he asked gently.
“For… For your assistance last night. I wasn’t sure if I had thanked you properly last night.”
Harry shivered at the despair that was evident in Snape’s usually confident voice and stance. The fact that Snape didn’t remember thanking him, worried Harry as well. He had never heard Snape speak haltingly before and really didn’t like hearing it now.
“You did thank me last night, and you’re very welcome. If you want to talk…” Harry trailed off as Snape turned away.
“Thank you for your offer, but no. I merely wanted to… express my gratitude for your… assistance. Good day, Mr. Potter.” Snape dismissed him without looking at him.
“Good day, sir,” Harry said with a sigh as he left the room.
*~*
Harry continued to observe Snape over the next couple of weeks in the Great Hall and in class. He watched as Snape alternated between snarky and depressed. Sometimes, Snape was his old self, if not more snappish than usual, and other times, he looked to be on the edge of tears. Some days, Snape ate sparsely, other days, he didn’t touch anything to his lips other than tea or water. Harry watched him during breakfast one morning adding salt into his tea absentmindedly, then drank it. Snape didn’t usually even add sugar to his tea.
In class, Snape barked and yelled as usual most of the time, but at other times, he would just sit at his desk staring into space. The more he watched, the more concerned Harry became. He saw the headmaster try to talk to him at meals, but Snape would either ignore him completely, or yell at him to mind his own business.
Ron and Hermione had given up worrying about him. Hermione was over-loaded with fear of the coming exams to worry about anything else, and Ron had stopped caring when Snape gave him detention for not holding his pestle correctly.
Harry had found Snape out by the lake a few more times, as well. He would sit next to the man quietly, not pressing for conversation. After an hour or so, Harry would walk him back to his rooms, where Snape would make a point to thank him graciously.
Finally, exams were over and the Leaving Feast was coming to a close. Harry had managed to find distractions from his worries over Snape, by worrying about his school work and friends instead. He had passed all his N.E.W.T.s, as did Ron and Hermione. The three of them held hands as the trudged up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower for the last time.
They sat in the common room with the other seventh years and talked late into the night. After his friends had all fallen asleep, Harry pulled on his cloak and slipped from the room. He needed some air and so made his way to the lake.
Harry was almost surprised that Snape wasn’t already on the rock waiting for him. He sat on the cool stone and wrapped his robe tightly around his legs to keep out the cold breeze coming off the lake. He rested his chin on his knees, clearing his mind and letting it drift silently over memories of his friends.
He was startled out of a light doze by a tug on his robes. He looked over the side of the large rock and was faced with panicked looking brown eyes.
“Dobby? What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly wide awake and fully alert.
“Please!?” the little elf begged. “Sir Harry Potter must help!”
“Help? With what?”
“Master Sevvie! Dobby can not calm him!”
Harry’s heart froze in an instant. “Take me to him, now!”
Dobby took Harry’s outstretched hand in his tiny grasp. Harry heard a pop, then felt a pull on his soul, almost like that from a portkey. In a blink, Harry was in a bright room, his ears and mind being assaulted by terrible screams.
~*~
Five hours later, Severus’ mind was still screaming from the agony/ecstasy his Master had put him through. The combination of spells to give pleasure and pain always left him confused and dazed. He didn’t remember coming home, but knew he was safe by the larger than human brown eyes watching over him and the small, soft hand stroking his hair.
He felt something cool pressed to his lips and swallowed instinctively. He grimaced at the bitter taste of a healing potion and tried to bat the hand away. He didn’t want to be healed, he only wanted to sleep. The little hand was persistent, however, and he was too weak to protest much.
He sighed and leaned back into the warm, plush blankets as a cool cloth was placed over his forehead, careful not to cover his eyes, and another ran gently down his torso. The touch was gentle enough not to scare him, but firm enough not to tickle the overly sensitive skin. He moaned and shuddered fearfully when the cloth moved down his still sweating body, but a low, sweet voice talked softly and the hand continued to stroke his hair. He managed to get through the intimate cleaning with a few whimpers, but not a lot of pain.
Severus couldn’t help crying out when the gentle hands rolled him onto his stomach, which was well bruised and not yet healed fully by the potions he had drank. He was soothed by the calm voice and steady hands, his pain fading even as his fears grew. Those were soon soothed away as well, though, as one hand again stroked his hair, while the other worked quickly to clean the dried blood, sweat, and semen from his abused body.
He gave a shuddering sigh as he was turned again, this time onto his side facing the door. It was his preferred sleeping position as it placed his back to a solid form and gave him quick access to the door and anyone who may come through it. His eyes fluttered open momentarily and he saw again big brown eyes, watching him sadly as a soft blanket was pulled over him and tucked in around him. Once the movement and touching stopped, Severus quickly fell into a quiet sleep.
~*~
The next morning, Harry watched Snape closely, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the paler than usual face, his slow movement and his lack of appetite. He sighed sadly, helplessly, as Snape stared unseeing at his plate. He had learned so much about his mysterious teacher and the more he learned, the more he ached to help him.
As Harry and his friends rose to leave, a cool dark voice called out to him.
“Potter, a moment if you would?” Snape asked quietly. Harry nodded and told his friends he would catch up to them in the library, then followed Snape down into the dungeons. Snape led Harry into his office and closed the door behind them.
“I… I wanted to thank you,” Snape spoke hesitantly. Harry gave him a curious look.
“For what?” he asked gently.
“For… For your assistance last night. I wasn’t sure if I had thanked you properly last night.”
Harry shivered at the despair that was evident in Snape’s usually confident voice and stance. The fact that Snape didn’t remember thanking him, worried Harry as well. He had never heard Snape speak haltingly before and really didn’t like hearing it now.
“You did thank me last night, and you’re very welcome. If you want to talk…” Harry trailed off as Snape turned away.
“Thank you for your offer, but no. I merely wanted to… express my gratitude for your… assistance. Good day, Mr. Potter.” Snape dismissed him without looking at him.
“Good day, sir,” Harry said with a sigh as he left the room.
*~*
Harry continued to observe Snape over the next couple of weeks in the Great Hall and in class. He watched as Snape alternated between snarky and depressed. Sometimes, Snape was his old self, if not more snappish than usual, and other times, he looked to be on the edge of tears. Some days, Snape ate sparsely, other days, he didn’t touch anything to his lips other than tea or water. Harry watched him during breakfast one morning adding salt into his tea absentmindedly, then drank it. Snape didn’t usually even add sugar to his tea.
In class, Snape barked and yelled as usual most of the time, but at other times, he would just sit at his desk staring into space. The more he watched, the more concerned Harry became. He saw the headmaster try to talk to him at meals, but Snape would either ignore him completely, or yell at him to mind his own business.
Ron and Hermione had given up worrying about him. Hermione was over-loaded with fear of the coming exams to worry about anything else, and Ron had stopped caring when Snape gave him detention for not holding his pestle correctly.
Harry had found Snape out by the lake a few more times, as well. He would sit next to the man quietly, not pressing for conversation. After an hour or so, Harry would walk him back to his rooms, where Snape would make a point to thank him graciously.
Finally, exams were over and the Leaving Feast was coming to a close. Harry had managed to find distractions from his worries over Snape, by worrying about his school work and friends instead. He had passed all his N.E.W.T.s, as did Ron and Hermione. The three of them held hands as the trudged up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower for the last time.
They sat in the common room with the other seventh years and talked late into the night. After his friends had all fallen asleep, Harry pulled on his cloak and slipped from the room. He needed some air and so made his way to the lake.
Harry was almost surprised that Snape wasn’t already on the rock waiting for him. He sat on the cool stone and wrapped his robe tightly around his legs to keep out the cold breeze coming off the lake. He rested his chin on his knees, clearing his mind and letting it drift silently over memories of his friends.
He was startled out of a light doze by a tug on his robes. He looked over the side of the large rock and was faced with panicked looking brown eyes.
“Dobby? What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly wide awake and fully alert.
“Please!?” the little elf begged. “Sir Harry Potter must help!”
“Help? With what?”
“Master Sevvie! Dobby can not calm him!”
Harry’s heart froze in an instant. “Take me to him, now!”
Dobby took Harry’s outstretched hand in his tiny grasp. Harry heard a pop, then felt a pull on his soul, almost like that from a portkey. In a blink, Harry was in a bright room, his ears and mind being assaulted by terrible screams.
~*~