Author: Quila
Author's E-Mail: quila_reese@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Warning: Implied Non-Con, Slash, Dark and Angsty, Suicide
Notes: This is a combination of a prequel and sequel to "Never Free." In my opinion, this is kinda short, but it got out what I wanted, and I didn't want to go any further and possibly ruin the "feeling."
Disclaimer: All character and such belong to J.K. Rowling… I'm just using them for the fun of it.
Pairing: Implied SS/HP
Summary: Harry's view of the things in "Never Free".
Thanks to KittenBabyGirl for being my wonderful beta! All mistakes still here are my fault.
- - - - -
As I stand here looking out, As the cool wind touches my bare skin, My senses are ebbing, My caretaker, my lover, promises sweet freedom often, But I ignore those words because I And if he wants me to see? And if he wants me to feel? But I do know the To feel, would to be free.
I see nothing.
I do not shiver.
And I am slowly becoming numb.
As well as the
prospect of love.
Know that it is not
allowed.
Too bad; I can't.
Too bad; I just cannot.
The truth that if I did, it would mean my
freedom.
Free at last.
"Feel to be Free" by 'Quila.
- - - - -
I can clearly remember that day in Potions when Snape froze, clutching his left forearm, before looking me straight in the eyes. With a quick nod, he had moved into his battle mode, yelling for all students to return to their Common Rooms. Ron, Hermione, Draco and I stayed in the classroom, waiting for instructions. The wards had yet to have been breached, but we knew it wouldn't be long.
It hurts to think of what happened next. All of us were on the Quidditch Pitch and we were trying in vain to keep the Death Eaters back. A flash of a familiar emerald green whizzed by me and I turned to see Draco's lifeless body at the feet of MacNair. Lucius was right behind him, his cool composure shattered at the sight of his dead son. Raging silver eyes were turned to my own and the man started stalking forward. I knew that if I had been totally there and aware of my surroundings, I could have easily gotten away. But I wasn't and every time someone around me was killed, so was something within me.
With every step he took forward, I took one backwards until I tripped over something, in this case, Dumbledore's body. He was alive, but barely. Those pained blue eyes, void of any twinkle still haunt me. His next words cut through me like a knife and every time I think of them, I know I have failed him. "Be strong, Harry."
The next instant he was dead and I was hit with four stunning spells so I could be brought to where I am now; Riddle Manor. Severus was also dragged in, for it was thought that he might be a spy. He denied it and was set a task to perform to prove his loyalty.
He went through with it, ripping my soul out along with my innocence while doing so. He says he is sorry, and I am inclined to believe him. He even says that maybe we will get out, but I turn my face to his and tell him that no, we really won't. He doesn't say anything of the sort again.
I sit at the windowsill, not really noticing anything. I am waiting for Severus to get back. It has been awhile since I have had a taste of Death and I am anxiously waiting for more.
I am not wearing anything but a thin pair of boxers when the wind picks up. The window is open, so it ruffles my hair but I do not feel it.
One hour; then another, and still I sit here. I get up and walk to the lavish bathroom. For a prisoner of war, I have it pretty good when it comes to living standards. Except that I don't care, for care is a feeling, and I don't feel.
Unless it's a meeting.
Yet, those meetings where I am often raped and tortured endlessly, always kept on the brink of death, but never being allowed to fall. Only then do I feel. The pain, self-loathing and disgust, with a glimmer of hope that maybe if I just felt more I could get what I wanted.
I pick up the razor from the counter and stare at it seeing that there is already a drop of blood on it. Probably just from a nic when Severus had shaved earlier that morning.
I bring it down to my wrist, anticipating the sharp stab of pain I will get when it cuts across my skin. I sigh and feel, actually feel, the blood seep out of me. I repeat the process with my other wrist and a long since unseen smile crosses my face. I collapse when the world around me gets too begins to spin and rejoice when I feel a dull ache because I had hit many old and new bruises in my fall.
"Harry?" I hear Severus' voice call out as he finally enters the room. When he reaches the bathroom, he gasps and sinks to his hands and knees beside me. He goes to pull out his wand, but I stop him.
"No…No, I-I want…to…feel." I just barely manage to stutter out, "I w-want…to be…free-"
He gazes sadly down at me, but he nods and slowly puts his wand away. There is sadness in his eyes as he says, "I'm sorry."
"I know." I respond, as always. "Free a-at last…" I breathe out before my eyelids become too heavy to keep open.
A choked sob escapes from my right, "Free at least." Severus repeats; before standing up and walking away.
-Finis-