In My Mind
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,218
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,218
Reviews:
1
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.
In My Mind
Chapter one – In The Dark
Acknowledgement- This tale would not have existed if it wasn’t for the imagination of my dear friend Hannah. She has the ideas, and I have the words!
Author’s Intro and warning- This chapter contains non-con slash with a very minor minor. If this is going to offend you, please stop reading now. This story involves what are essentially AU situations, and introduces some OCs, one of whom is the leading lady, as it were. It probably won\'t make very much sense at the moment, as it is meant to be...(ooooh...how much can I say without giving the story away....) well, not meant to be understood, but future chapters will explain that it isn\'t gratuitously shocking.
Disclaimer- (The usual) What you recognise belongs to JK Rowling, grand-mistress of all things Potter related (praise her! Do it now!) and what you don’t recognise belongs to me, with a little creative input from Hannah, to whom I am eternally grateful.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A room with tattered black curtains. A broken chair, clothes strewn over the floor. A bedroom; empty. A room filled with hatred, like a foul stench that is never quite forgotten. A dark room.
But this room is not empty. A bundle of rags in the corner of the room moves convulsively. It is crying. It twitches again, it’s shoulders shaking, struggling to stifle a sob. Emaciated and filthy, it…the boy…drives his nails into near-translucent skin, turning sadness into pain. It is the only control he can have in the dark.
All around him there is screaming. However hard he tries to block them out it seems he cannot escape the words that echo in his mind. A begging, tortured pleolloollowed by a barely human torrent of sound. A rip, a crack, a cry. Fists on flesh. He bites his knuckles, bites them until they are red raw. He knows he can do nothing.
Nothing but wait, all alone. She won’t come to him. If she can keep him alone in the darkness, keep him out of sight, he is safe. If he is silent, as long as he hides away, he cannot be harmed. But there is much harm that can be done in the dark. For whilst he can hear, and he can think yet not know, his senses teem with a thousand horrors.
Quite suddenly, his stifling silence is broken and the doorway is filled with the silhouette of a man. The chinks of light invade his world. Their unaccustomed rays dazzling him, he sinks further into his corner, shaking violently. The man calls his name, over and over, a harsh voice penetrating him like a bullet. He crawls slowly, his head down, submits. There is no alternative.
One enormous hand grasps his throat whilst a fist pummels him. He tries to stop himself but he is choking, the room blurring around him as he loses consciousness. He feels himself dragged to his feet, and retches as the hand ceases its stranglehold. The man laughs. It is hard to say whether the man genuinely takes pleasure in this act, or just wishes to scar him as much as is possible.
From somewhere deep inside him, the boy feels a primal urge to flee. Almost without his knowing, his feet are propelling him, and he lunges towards the open door, grasping desperately for escape. But the man is too fast for him, and suddenly, as suddenly as he began, he is stopped.
For a second all is still, and he can almost taste the man’s foul breath upon him, before his thoughts are replaced with nauseating pain. The man is on top of him, holding him by the hair and alternating between pulling him back so far he feels his neck will surely snap, and forcing his face into the floorboards.
Silently, he prays as the man begins pulling at the thin material that covers him, and silently he screams as he hears the man unbuckle his belt. He closes his eyes so tightly his face contorts as he feels his flesh rip, stretching and tearing with every push. As the steady in and out increases he begs for mercy, for death, for anything but this, and without warning feels a sickening surge within him. The man slumps upon him, and it is all he can do not to suffocate. After what seems like an eternity the man withdraws from him, and he struggles not to vomit at the sensation.
As his father leaves the room, Severus Snape sheds a single tear.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Please Review! I know it won\'t make much sense now, but I promise in future chapters we\'ll see what this horrific incident in Snape\'s past has to do with the OC (coming in next chapter)
Acknowledgement- This tale would not have existed if it wasn’t for the imagination of my dear friend Hannah. She has the ideas, and I have the words!
Author’s Intro and warning- This chapter contains non-con slash with a very minor minor. If this is going to offend you, please stop reading now. This story involves what are essentially AU situations, and introduces some OCs, one of whom is the leading lady, as it were. It probably won\'t make very much sense at the moment, as it is meant to be...(ooooh...how much can I say without giving the story away....) well, not meant to be understood, but future chapters will explain that it isn\'t gratuitously shocking.
Disclaimer- (The usual) What you recognise belongs to JK Rowling, grand-mistress of all things Potter related (praise her! Do it now!) and what you don’t recognise belongs to me, with a little creative input from Hannah, to whom I am eternally grateful.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A room with tattered black curtains. A broken chair, clothes strewn over the floor. A bedroom; empty. A room filled with hatred, like a foul stench that is never quite forgotten. A dark room.
But this room is not empty. A bundle of rags in the corner of the room moves convulsively. It is crying. It twitches again, it’s shoulders shaking, struggling to stifle a sob. Emaciated and filthy, it…the boy…drives his nails into near-translucent skin, turning sadness into pain. It is the only control he can have in the dark.
All around him there is screaming. However hard he tries to block them out it seems he cannot escape the words that echo in his mind. A begging, tortured pleolloollowed by a barely human torrent of sound. A rip, a crack, a cry. Fists on flesh. He bites his knuckles, bites them until they are red raw. He knows he can do nothing.
Nothing but wait, all alone. She won’t come to him. If she can keep him alone in the darkness, keep him out of sight, he is safe. If he is silent, as long as he hides away, he cannot be harmed. But there is much harm that can be done in the dark. For whilst he can hear, and he can think yet not know, his senses teem with a thousand horrors.
Quite suddenly, his stifling silence is broken and the doorway is filled with the silhouette of a man. The chinks of light invade his world. Their unaccustomed rays dazzling him, he sinks further into his corner, shaking violently. The man calls his name, over and over, a harsh voice penetrating him like a bullet. He crawls slowly, his head down, submits. There is no alternative.
One enormous hand grasps his throat whilst a fist pummels him. He tries to stop himself but he is choking, the room blurring around him as he loses consciousness. He feels himself dragged to his feet, and retches as the hand ceases its stranglehold. The man laughs. It is hard to say whether the man genuinely takes pleasure in this act, or just wishes to scar him as much as is possible.
From somewhere deep inside him, the boy feels a primal urge to flee. Almost without his knowing, his feet are propelling him, and he lunges towards the open door, grasping desperately for escape. But the man is too fast for him, and suddenly, as suddenly as he began, he is stopped.
For a second all is still, and he can almost taste the man’s foul breath upon him, before his thoughts are replaced with nauseating pain. The man is on top of him, holding him by the hair and alternating between pulling him back so far he feels his neck will surely snap, and forcing his face into the floorboards.
Silently, he prays as the man begins pulling at the thin material that covers him, and silently he screams as he hears the man unbuckle his belt. He closes his eyes so tightly his face contorts as he feels his flesh rip, stretching and tearing with every push. As the steady in and out increases he begs for mercy, for death, for anything but this, and without warning feels a sickening surge within him. The man slumps upon him, and it is all he can do not to suffocate. After what seems like an eternity the man withdraws from him, and he struggles not to vomit at the sensation.
As his father leaves the room, Severus Snape sheds a single tear.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Please Review! I know it won\'t make much sense now, but I promise in future chapters we\'ll see what this horrific incident in Snape\'s past has to do with the OC (coming in next chapter)