CHAPTER 7
Severus Snape was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall, hands folded. He went over his conversation with Voldemort.
"Tell me, Severus. How is the boy doing? Is he docile?"
"He is still rather squeamish, my Lord. Recalcitrant. It makes it quite entertaining, actually."
"Ah, Severus, I always knew you had a decidedly…naughty streak in you," Voldemort said appreciatively, "do you heal him afterwards or let him be a bit uncomfortable?"
"I prefer healing him so that I can get the most out of my pleasure. He is so much more…tight when healed. And the others in the castle would notice if he were to adopt a straddling gait."
"Severus, you think of everything. It is truly admirable."
"Thank you, my Lord. I am also thinking of using…other methods and tools on him. He does tend to struggle."
"Torture him into submission, Severus. As I said, he may be more fun to keep alive and train as one of my faithful servants…"
Severus felt sick. He had had to show Voldemort fake memories of verbally and sexually abusing Harry. Voldemort had half closed his eyes with pleasure. He had also displayed an even more harrowing version of their consummation.
You took him by force, Severus? This is marvellous news!
But he had taken Harry forcefully. He had had no other choice. The preparation, the potions and all that he had used to facilitate penetration and take away as much of the discomfort as possible seemed to be nothing than a lame excuse for justifying rape. He felt like a rapist, in spite of what Harry had just said beforehand. The young man had even apologised for their situation. Harry's apology was wrong. His accusation, that Severus was a pervert, seemed closer to the truth. He recalled the consummation, Harry's sob in the end and that fierce "Don't touch me!" when he had laid his hand upon Harry's shoulder – a clumsy and completely useless gesture of apology. Severus had a poor opinion of love and social interaction. Dumbledore was the only person he could call a friend. On the other hand, he desperately craved warmth and some kind of companionship. A few desperate trysts and a night of frantic sex with men encountered in both muggle and wizarding gay bars from time to time, captivating their senses with his voice, eyes and feline motions, hair tumbling over his shoulders in soft waves, wearing mysterious black…and then, at Hogwarts, reverting to what was normal to him, the students and the staff, gliding around greasy-haired, his mood nasty and all the more cynical after giving and receiving superficial physical satisfaction, if satisfaction it was. Such furtive and empty pleasure turned sour, reinforcing the notion that he could never be loved. But then, who could possibly love someone like him? He made sure to be cruel and keep everyone at a distance. It was better to rot behind a secure iron wall than to be hurt repeatedly. He could hardly feel anymore.
Harry had accused him of lacking feeling and a heart. Fuming, Severus got up and removed his cloak. What did he care for the words and silly insincere apologies of a snotty brat like Potter? It was bad enough that he was James Potter's son. A loud yell startled him, penetrating through all the closed doors. It sounded quite demented.
"NOOO!"
Severus stood up hastily and marched towards Harry's bedroom, from where the cry had issued. The door was ajar. He pushed it wider, sneering at the presents and letters on Harry's bed. One of them, a bag containing turquoise pastilles, was open. There was a scuffling and moaning sound coming from the adjoining bathroom.
"Potter? What are you caterwauling about?" Severus called, irritated, knocking on the door. He was answered by an alarmed shout:
"DON'T COME IN!"
"I have no intentions of doing so. However, I demand an explanation for disturbing the peace of my rooms," Severus barked, his temper rising. After half a minute, the door opened to reveal Harry wrapped in a housecoat. He was looking rather ill. Severus raised an eyebrow, black eyes travelling languidly over Harry's body.
"Fascinating outfit, Potter. I am waiting for that explanation."
Harry stared at him, lower lip quivering with obvious despair.
"I…uh…got a gift from Fred and George…"
"Ah. The Weasley twins."
"They sent me a bag of pastilles…"
"I am not surprised."
"…and told me to distribute it around. They also added that I should try one myself. And…er…"
Harry went cranberry crimson, fidgeting from one bare foot to the other.
"What did that pastille do, Potter?" Severus asked with ominous calm, eyes narrowing.
"It…It…I am turquoise…down there!" he whispered.
Severus's mouth underwent an odd twitching spasm for a second or two.
"Are you referring to your pubic area?"
Harry's blush intensified and he nodded.
"I am sure it will wear off soon," Severus said, sounding bored.
"It won't! They wrote that the effect would wear off alone, and that it would take two weeks! That's not soon!"
Severus managed to remain completely deadpan.
"Mr Potter, your foolishness and childishness shock me beyond description. Knowing the Weasley twins-"
"But they're my friends, I trust them! I knew that something funny would happen, but I didn't think it would be like this. I'm…I don't want to stay turquoise down there."
He tugged at his housecoat.
"Curiosity killed the cat," Severus quipped smartly, "as for 'down there'…your pudic, to say nothing of pubic, tendencies, are frankly quite deplorable. Surely you know the vocabulary pertaining to the human anatomy? You are behaving like a simpering clueless idiot. In addition, you should never touch or ingest anything if you don't know what it does to you, foolish Gryffindor!"
"I won't have you calling me names! I am your husband, whether you want it or not!" Harry said furiously.
Severus drummed his slender fingers against the doorframe, clearly enjoying Harry's discomfort.
"True. You are married to a Potions Master, and it is, most regretfully, your birthday today. Maybe a hair-colour restorer will solve your…problem, Potter."
"You know that it is my birthday today? I thought you had forgotten."
"Did you actually have the audacity to expect a gift from your abusive spouse, my beloved husband?"
"You're the last person I'd expect anything from," Harry spat. "I'm trying to work on our relationship, and you're doing all to break it."
"In that case, I am sure you will manage without a restorer. Potter darling, can you break something that is already broken? This marriage is purely a convenient tool."
"One can repair something that has been broken, and that requires work. On both sides," Harry retorted.
Severus began to laugh tauntingly.
"Potter, I am amazed at your optimism. Truly amazed. Do you think the divorce forms serve a decorative purpose? I agreed to marrying and bonding with you more for the Headmaster's sake than for yours."
He strode from Harry's room and returned to his bedroom. He was about to remove his robes when the door to his bedroom banged open to reveal Harry, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
Severus stared at him without moving.
"I told you that you would be very sorry if you entered my bedroom. Especially without knocking, or without my permission."
"And I refuse to be treated like garbage. Let's talk about our relationship in plain language, Severus."
"Get out of my bedroom immediately," Severus whispered, stepping towards Harry. Harry didn't move. His green eyes were blazing.
"I told you that I am your husband, not a student you can bully."
With a sudden movement, Severus grabbed Harry's wrists and pressed him against the wall, digging his fingers into Harry's skin, his body crushing Harry's.
"Fine. Let us get this straight, husband of mine. You are garbage. Happy birthday."
He released Harry.
"Now get out before I am forced to resort to violence."
"You already resorted to violence. Manhandling your husband. How pathetic," Harry said softly, making no sign of leaving the room.
Severus's black eyes flashed. He strode towards Harry, who drew out his wand.
"Oh. So you want to duel with me, Potter?"
He drew out his wand and, without delay, used a non-verbal spell on his opponent. Harry gasped as he was blasted off his feet and flung backwards. The last thing he saw was the sneer on Severus's face as he fell, smashing his elbow on the hard parquet floor and cutting his head against the corner of a cupboard.
"Get up and fight, Potter!" Severus snarled.
Harry did not respond. His face was horribly white and blood was starting to make his black hair glisten. It ran down his face. His left arm was hanging at an odd angle.
Severus, too, was deathly pale. He threw his wand onto the bed and knelt down next to Harry.
Sick with guilt, he stared down at the young man. Forgetting all about levitating him by magic or using Floo powder, he manoeuvred Harry's limp body into his arms and went to the hospital wing. He was immediately received by Madam Pomfrey.
"What has he done to himself now?" she asked disapprovingly as Severus silently placed Harry on a bed nearby.
"He fell and broke his arm," Severus answered evasively. Madam Pomfrey looked from him to Harry, and although Severus's face was impassive, she became suspicious at once.
"I am calling the Headmaster," she said. Severus did not say anything. It was not long before Dumbledore whisked into the hospital wing. His blue eyes seemed to x-ray Severus.
"What happened?" he asked crisply.
"We had an argument and it escalated. We drew wands and my spell was a bit strong, I suppose. He fell and broke his arm."
"He also seems to have cut his head," Dumbledore added, the warmth gone from his voice. "Severus, my patience is over. In fact, you are doing what Voldemort has asked you to do. Both you and Harry grew up unloved and unwanted. I was hoping that you would understand him. But sometimes, the abused become abusers themselves. And that is what you have become, Severus."
"He provoked me. He barged into my bedroom, thus disregarding my wishes that he stay away certain rooms. He said that he wanted to talk to me in, I quote, 'plain language'. I had no desire to do so. He insisted."
"Did you have an argument before the fight in your bedroom?" Dumbledore asked shrewdly.
Severus shrugged.
"Yes. He distracted me because of some foolish trick those Weasley twins had played on him. We discussed. He was of the opinion that he is being treated unfairly by me and that we should, ah, repair and work on our…relationship."
Dumbledore was very angry. His blue eyes were dangerous behind his spectacles.
"Severus, feel free to go ahead with the divorce and end the blood protection. It was my mistake. I should never have insisted on this marriage, and I should have known that it would come to this. However, I suggest that the divorce is executed with absolute secrecy and that neither the Ministry nor Voldemort learn of it. You have, of course, not told Voldemort that you and Harry are bonded. If you divorce, it will not matter anymore. You have to maintain the farce, however, or Voldemort will know that you are working against him."
"Headmaster-"
"Good night, Severus."
Harry woke up with his cut and arm healed. It was morning. He reached for his glasses and sat up. Madam Pomfrey went over to his bed, checking him.
"How are you feeling?" she wanted to know.
Harry flexed his arm.
"I'm fine, thank you," he said.
"You'll have breakfast here and then you may go back. And do try to take care of yourself for a change, will you?"
He gave her a small grin.
"I'll try."
Madam Pomfrey was fond of Harry. Besides being good-natured and brave, he was an uncomplicated and cooperative patient. She made sure that he was steady on his feet as he got up to use the toilet and was not happy until he was in bed with a breakfast tray on his knees. Harry ate glumly. His marriage was on the rocks. Severus did not want to communicate with him. He, Harry, had been a fool. Too much was broken between them. He had just put the tray aside when Dumbledore walked gracefully into the ward and pulled up a chair to his beside.
"Good morning, my dear boy."
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, astonished.
"In the flesh. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. It's just…I don't know what to do about my marriage," he said softly, toying with the seam of the bed sheet, "I think Severus hates me too much."
"I have suggested to Severus that you divorce and keep it secret from everyone, except for your friends."
"I tried to work on it, sir. I tried talking to him. Asking him questions, making him discuss our conflict and find a solution. He refused. He mocked me."
Dumbledore sighed.
"I am sorry your eighteenth birthday had to end like this. Severus is so difficult sometimes."
Mixed emotions welled up at the word "birthday". Harry remembered that Dumbledore was a Legilimens and hastily tried not to think of his turquoise reminder.
"Maybe divorce is the only way out," he agreed.
The door of the ward opened. Severus Snape looked from one wizard to the other with wary black eyes.
Dumbledore pressed Harry's shoulder gently before leaving Severus and Harry alone together.
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