Title: The Obliterated One

Warnings: First of all, this is SLASH, so if that isn't what floats your boat, don't read on… The most obvious warning is that there will be many references to prostitution; otherwise, specific warnings will come with each chapter. Finally, if you've read my other story "Fixing a Hole", you should know that this is very different, but I hope you enjoy it as well.

Rating: M

Pairing: Severus Snape / Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable HP character, nor do I mean any offense. Thanks.

Summary: It has been years since Harry Potter was obliterated by the new ministry. However, when Severus Snape lets a green eyed boy named Oliver into his life… everything changes.



Chapter 1

Severus Snape padded down the stairs early Friday morning, mindlessly enjoying the sound of his bare feet slapping against the wood floors and the soft beat of Pete's heavy paws galloping down the hall behind him, the lazy spaniel thrilling in the prospect of being let out into the garden where the sun was slowly rising and the air was crisp and fresh.

He opened his ice box and leaned heavily against the open door, his half lidded eyes enjoying the cold and his legs lazy from too much rest. He plucked out a plum and took a bite then shuffled through the numerous bottles of cold beer and lifted the half canister of milk from the back. He flicked his wand at the counter and a rusty red tea pot began steaming from the thin spout. He poured himself a cup of hot milky earl grey and sat at his rusty garden table, eying the ministry brief that had been faithfully delivered to his house that morning.

Sighing, he reached down and stroked the coarse silky curls around Pete's ears and picked up the brief. He mindlessly scanned the nonsense that Malfoy's whiney cricket of a secretary had outlined in a two page brief for the ministry council. A stream of tea ran into the parchment and the ink bled into each other. He lifted it up and flicked it, but it only worsened. No bother, I don't have the energy for this shit anyway. He flipped to the third page where the secretive red inked information was carefully outlined for head table members only- A small group of advisors and lead decision makers consisting mostly of the former inner circle of death eaters, men whom the people were quietly tolerating. After all, they had little choice now that the former leaders were all but disintegrated. And somehow, to their surprise, their daily life, however closely monitored was much more carefree and peaceful than it had been in years. And after such an exhausting war, that was all anyone wanted, at least for now.

For Severus, the bittersweet corruption was once again weaved around him so tightly that it was unlikely he would ever escape. All his hopes of a truly peaceful end to the war were so decidedly crushed that he had resigned to be grateful that if nothing else, at least Voldemort was dead. And if he played his cards wisely and for long enough, he may very soon be allowed to drift away into the quiet secluded life he so desperately wished for.

It was a miracle in of itself that he was allowed to live so far from the ministry and spend so little time there, but he supposed that so long as he was consistently diligent in doing his job exceptionally well, he would be left alone. As it sat now he only had to show up for the bi-monthly meetings and occasionally send comments on the morning briefs that were mailed to his secluded sea side home in Northumberland, which was so far off the beaten path that Severus could sometimes let himself believe that his dealings with the corrupted new ministry were just bad dreams that he could wake up from in the morning.

He downed his last sip of tea and scanned the final paragraph before walking to his tall old muggle file cabinet and with a click he pulled out the third drawer and placed the brief in the back of the file labeled December 1999.

It was nearly the end of the 20th century, and yet, there was no glorious new age of peace and prosperity to mark the occasion, and now with the new millennium approaching only days away, Severus was resigned to believe there never would be.


Severus looked at the clock - 9:53. The boy, or man… or whoever they chose to send him would be here any minute. A ministry whore wouldn't dare be late and chance angering an official, especially with his ranking. He took a long swig from his glass of amber brandy and allowed the warmth to wash over him. Severus had never requested a whore before, although nearly every man and woman in the council used the service often, most of them having sampled every name on the list. Many even had some kind of an arrangement with one of their favorites, though the ministry ensured that no one be allowed complete exclusivity, except Lucius of course if he so desired, but Lucius always had enjoyed frequent variety.

Severus had never wanted to engage in the service until very recently when it suddenly dawned on him that there really was no escaping this reality he had been placed in. There was simply no chance for having the peaceful loving relationship he desired because no one he desired would be a ministry approved partner. Men could take as many male whores as they wished, and as often as they wished, but anything more was out of the question. With the new government in place, marriages in wizarding England had to be ministry approved, and only straight marriages were considered. As for officials such as himself, the marriage to one of the cold ambitious daughters of a councilman were the only appropriate choice and would have to be approved by Lucius personally. Severus had no doubt that it was only a matter of months before the young Cynthia McNair would be sleeping in his bed by order of the minister. Rumor had it that balls were already rolling to secure the marriage.

A whore would take his mind off all the stresses that surrounded him, even for one night. Maybe he could even pretend that the boy who was on his way was someone special, someone who mattered to him. Maybe he could warp this sin into something passionate and beautiful, just to give his mind a break from all the filth and corruption.

Thinking back, it did amuse Severus greatly to recall Lucius's face when he mentioned his interest in a male whore as they walked together down the new shiny black halls on their way to last week's meeting. He was no doubt convinced that Severus was not that kind of man. Hopefully Lucius wouldn't have someone sent to him that was too young, fucking children was not to his liking especially since there was a distinctive possibility that it could be one of his former students, and although the boy wouldn't remember him as the greasy potions master, Severus would most certainly remember.

Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to allow Lucius to arrange this, just so he could see his reaction. Severus did have the contact information for the whore house and he should have arranged things himself; make sure he received an unfamiliar face. Lucius had a vile humor of his own.

The knock came as 9:58. Severus set his glass down and walked to the door, swinging it open quickly to reveal the face at the other end while he still had the nerve. Green eyes stared up at him…

It fucking figures. The boy's gaze was blank and emotionless and he said nothing, nothing needed to be said, not that he was allowed to speak unless prompted anyway.

The boy's thick black leather collar that wrapped around the center of his neck made Severus's stomach churn. Of course he knew that Potter had been conditioned for the whore house. The decision had made the council roar with amusement at the time. But somehow, he had let it slip his mind… Severus inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves, he couldn't sound flustered.

Fucking Lucius Malfoy, the bastard had no idea what he was doing. There was no doubt that he was getting quite a lot of pleasure and amusement out of sending this one.

But, he had no idea.

"What's your name?"

The boy flinched, "Sir?"

"What do they call you?"

His brow crinkled in confusion, then his eyes widened in recognition and his frown was quickly replaced with a fake seductive smile, "You may call me anything you like sir."

Severus rolled his eyes and shuffled the boy into the warm room, shutting the door behind him. "Go sit at that table and wait for me." He pointed to the round wooden dining room table in the other room, and then quickly disappeared into the bathroom where he would be able to steady himself in private. Harry Potter, the boy who lived and forgot to finish what he started was sitting at his table with a leather collar around his neck and he, god help him, was actually considering taking what was being offered, despite all the personal consequences.

Taking the crystal cup out of the cabinet, Severus poured himself a glass of water and drank until the flavor of brandy had been washed out. "Alright," he said to his reflection. "This is not Harry Potter. This is not Harry Potter. He no longer exists and it's about time you caught up with the rest of the world and accepted that. For better or worse, they have erased him and he is gone."

Taking a deep breath Severus tried to block out the memory that was pressing furiously against his conscious. Finally, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the night he had spent with the young man only days before everything had fallen apart. Maybe it was better to remember the way he was so that he could finally realize that the whore in his kitchen was not the same person.

Through closed eyes he replayed the images of the serene evening when he had held the boy through the night. He had almost believed that the faint twinge in his chest might have been love. But no, that was absurd, especially now. They hadn't meant anything to each other; all Severus had been to Harry Potter was a protective force, a mentor at the end when the war was near. His feelings didn't and shouldn't matter.

But, what Severus had known that night, without a doubt, was that the hot blood that pumped through his blood had been lust. And whenever he thought of the way that lithe young body had felt against him, Severus grew instantly hard, and tonight that's all that mattered, wasn't it?

It was strange, but he had never even considered calling on this boy, no… Harry was nineteen now despite his small stature. Severus grunted, he even looked younger now than he remembered, probably just another trick they used to keep the whores looking as young as possible. Or maybe, he was just beginning to forget.

But, he had thought about having this particular boy come to him, one particularly lonely night. He had pondered it once and then dismissed the notion with disgust. And perhaps that was because, despite the fact that he was now just a body well conditioned for fucking, it would reminded him too painfully of who Harry should have been. He was a beautiful blossoming man who could have been a lover, if things had turned out wonderfully different. He could have been the real kind of lover that Severus always wanted, he was sure of it.

But no, this was not Harry Potter. "This is not Harry Potter." He repeated sternly to his reflection. "This is a shell, a body conditioned for fucking with the face of someone you once knew." Severus drank another sip of water. "He is a beautiful boy, always was, but he is not Harry Potter. He is just a body."

But was he just a body? He had never been convinced of what they were told about the ministry whores. Part of him had always wondered how well these children had really been "conditioned." Severus didn't know if he would be relieved to find this boy was just as mindless and obedient as they were supposed to be, and if he would be glad that they'd taken away all the passion and fire that had once been Harry Potter so that he could move on with his life. Or, would it be more comforting to know that these young men and women retained their convictions and once vibrant personalities. God, he hoped so. It would feel like a small success, just knowing that they weren't able to destroy the rebellious youth as well as they had planned and hoped. The only news released to the wizarding public of these forgotten children, mostly orphans, was a single word – obliterated. They had been obliterated. No explanation of how, or by whom. Were they killed under the rubble of Hogwarts? Or were they the spoils of something much worse? It wasn't as if this new ministry had any need to explain itself, so they didn't. Obliterated… And yet, that boy looked so much like Harry. And Severus knew that he would feel just the same as well.

Well, he decided, if there was anything that remained of that boy's humanity then he would not finish what he started tonight. And with that vow, he splashed a little water over his flushed face and reemerged.

Harry- No, the boy, sat silently staring down at his lap, careful not to appear as though he were interested in his surroundings. Severus swept into the kitchen and pulled out a chair with a loud scrape, then sat the other end of the table. "Now, are you ready to tell me what your name is?"

The boy looked up, a bit of fear now joining the confusion that colored his cheeks. "My- my reference number is 24 sir, if that's what you mean, though I assure you that you won't need it if you want to schedule anymore sessions."

Severus felt a little sick. I ask him his name and he tells me his reference number is 24. Suddenly the ever present desire to kill Lucius Malfoy slowly and painfully began to grow steadily stronger. "No you stupid boy. I want to know what they call you, your friends and your peers. What is your name?"

His eyes grew wide. "Sir I don't know what you're asking, we are not allowed names."

"Tell me, or else I'll send you back with a report of inability to satisfy."

He squeaked in fright, the consequences of such an event obviously familiar to him, and then with his eyes downcast he whispered. "Oliver. Sir."

Severus sat back and stared at the hunched figure, his chest loosening with this comforting realization that his feeling had not been completely unfounded. That their conditioning hadn't made them forget what it means to be human, to have a name, to have wants and dreams even. Harry had been filled with dreams.

"Oliver." He said softly. It fit him, a simple and honest name, just as Harry had been.

The boy looked up, tears in his eyes. "Are you going to tell them?" He asked desperately, but as soon as the words left his mouth the fear in his eyes blazed even stronger. "Oh! Forgive me sir! I should never have spoken to you that way, I'm sorry. Forgive me!"

Severus stood up. "You may speak freely in my presence Oliver. And if you can promise to keep my secrets, then I can promise to keep yours."

"Secrets?"

"You think you're the only one that must behave in a particular fashion? I too must treat you in an accepted manner. I too must follow guidelines, and I too have my own secrets to harbor."

The boy opened his mouth and then quickly closed it, staring at Severus blankly instead.

"Say what you were going to say."

Silence. He didn't look at all convinced that Severus was a person to be trusted. And he really had no reason to. He knows that I'm a member of the head table, surely. And that was enough to make anyone watch their tongue.

"You can trust me Oliver. I'm not like the others."

The boy took a deep breath and replied quickly and quietly, as if he hoped Severus might not hear him. "You are of the highest table, you can treat me anyway you want. The conduct rules don't apply to you."

Severus grunted. "That's what you think, but it's not the way the world works. I am just as bound by rules and conduct as you are. It may be acceptable for me to beat you to within an inch of your life as I'm sure you know, but this conversation we are having would not be acceptable at all."

He nodded, but didn't look reassured, he looked offended. "Men who know their actions are wrong, always..."

Severus's eye twitched. "What?"

His eyes closed, deep regret coloring his cheeks. "Nothing sir," he said, purposefully shaking his head. "Nothing."

"I want to know what you were going to say."

His features were determined. "No. Please don't make me finish that comment sir. You can send me back with as many notes of displeasure as you like."

Damn it. He felt immediately guilty as he remembered the unfair threat he had delivered earlier. He could not expect to be trusted if he was threatening the boy. "No Oliver I wouldn't do that. It was wrong of me to threaten you earlier. I did not mean it."

Sighing, he walked over to the boy and offered him his hand, "Come."

After a moment of hesitation, his eyes shifting from the hand to Severus's face, he softly offered his sweaty palm and without ever flinching followed Severus hand in hand up the stairs and into the bedroom.


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-semolinapilchard