Willing

Chapter 25

Explanations

It was an hour later before Fred and George left Professor Snape's quarters. They took with them two books, both of them on BDSM relationships, from all different viewpoints. A Submissive, Master, Masochist and of course sadist's view on things. Severus didn't see them agreeing with everything in the books, but he was hopeful they'd understand Harry's needs. Harry liked them, enough to reveal parts of his past. He needed friends, especially friends who knew what he was and why he preferred the lifestyle. Harry had explained it to the best of his abilities, but Fred and George would never truly understand it. They hadn't lived through what Harry had endured; they'd been, to put it bluntly, wrapped in cotton wool all their lives. Their mother had, despite the fact they didn't have much money, kept them fed, watered, clothed, and happy.

"Tell me about Rachel," George said as soon as they Apparated to their room at the Burrow. They would have bought a flat by this time, but to do that required money. They were currently saving it all to get a premises for their joke shop. No matter what their money said, they were determined to do what they'd dreamed of since they were small children. If anything, meeting Harry had strengthened their resolved. They were lucky, they knew that, and so they would continue on as they had.

Fred put up a silencing spell, not wanting anyone to overhear what they were saying. This wasn't out of character for them, they normally had silencing spells on their rooms. Especially when they began testing new products or actually making them. More often than not the room looked like a bomb site ― another reason for their mother to shout at them. He sat down on his bed, feeling numb and a little angry at himself.

"She was sweet and kind, yet she loved pranks almost as much as we do. We dated for months; I really liked her you know, George. I thought maybe she was the one for me; she didn't think I was immature for still enjoying pranks, or irritated when I constantly spoke about them. I actually wanted to move in with her, make things a little more permanent," Fred said wistfully.

George's eyes widened. He truly had loved her; he was an idiot for giving her up. "So where did BDSM come into it?"

"One night she told me she really liked me, but she preferred a singular lifestyle. She said she'd tried to be normal, to have a proper relationship. Not just because she liked me but because of the pressure she was under from her family. She just couldn't do it; she knew what she wanted, she said," Fred confided, bitterness creeping into his voice. Even Harry had explained things better than she had. Then again, he hadn't exactly stuck around, too shocked and admittedly disgusted to hang around and find out.

"Do you still have the book?" George asked, sitting down next to his brother, patting his back in sympathy. He just looked so pathetic sitting there; it brought him back to when Rachel and Fred had broken up. He'd had no idea what had happened, now he did.

"No, can you imagine mum's face if she'd seen it?" Fred scoffed wryly.

"Good point," George agreed, grimacing; she'd have gone utterly ape shit if she'd seen something like this on them.

"I truly screwed up, didn't I?" Fred admitted. It didn't seem all that bad now, since Harry had explained. What had Rachel been through that she preferred that lifestyle? And what part of it did she like? As Harry had said, it could have been one of four aspects.

"Looks like it," George said. He hadn't lied to his brother before this, and he wasn't going to start now. "Give me one of those books."

Fred silently handed one over grimly.

George had just opened the book when a voice yelled at them "Boys! Dinner's on the table."

They didn't have to wonder how she knew they were back, since the clock told her exactly where everyone in her family was. Ginny and Ron were of course at Hogwarts, it was just them, as it always was. The rest of their older brothers had left home already, lucky as they were.

"Are you coming?" Fred asked, staring blankly at his brother; he'd never turned down food before.

"I'm still full," George said, shaking his head negatively.

"Alright," Fred said, leaving their bedroom and heading for the stairs. As he did so, a chime was heard and knew someone else had just come home. "Hey, dad," he said as he entered the kitchen, making his way to his normal seat.

"Hello, son," Arthur said smiling at him, his brown eyes probing as if he could sense his son wasn't quite himself. Coming in and sitting himself down, he placed his faded bowler hat on the table.

"Any luck?" Molly asked as she put the large dinner in front of her husband. She had left just over two hours ago to make dinner, leaving everyone else to search for Harry Potter. She was still wary of her kids helping, there was something not right with the boy.

"No, nothing," Arthur despondently said as he dug into his dinner, completely famished. He'd missed lunch trying to help everyone search for Harry, as well as avoiding the students, who gave him curious looks. It wasn't often they saw adults who weren't teachers in the school, after all. They weren't stupid, they knew something was going on, and the rumours were flying thick and fast.

"Perhaps it's for the best," Molly said as she took her own seat. She turned her sharp eyes on Fred to demand, "Where is your brother?" She could never tell them apart, not even with their lettered jumpers on, since they switched them around too, getting everyone confused.

"He's not hungry," Fred said as he began to eat his own dinner, or more like picking at it.

"For the best?" Arthur asked, his voice low and disapproving.

"You'd understand if you'd met him, Arthur dear," Molly said.

"He was locked up! A prisoner in a school; how did you want him to react?" Fred asked gaping at his mother.

"He isn't a prisoner," Molly denied, shaking her head as if her son was overstating things.

"No? Then what was he?" Fred asked, standing up to his mother for the first time in his life.

"Albus kept him there to keep him safe," Molly said as if she was talking to a stubborn two-year-old, not an adult.

"Would you have let him do that to me?" Fred demanded, pushing the plate of food away, unable to eat anymore of it. Echoes of Harry's emotions still plagued him; the gnawing hunger he'd felt, left Fred sick.

"You aren't in danger, son," Molly argued, "Harry was, and is; they were keeping him safe."

"Against. His. Will." Fred enunciated, shaking his head; honestly, his mum was too stubborn for words.

"Fred," Arthur cautioned, he didn't want dinner spoiled.

"Dad, come on! You agree with me!" Fred said.

Molly puffed up indignantly.

"I do, but there is nothing to be done about it now. Let's just eat dinner and forget about it." Arthur said sternly; he was too hungry to put up with any arguments right now.

"Arthur!" Molly angrily cried; she could barely believe he wasn't taking her side on this. Her dinner forgotten, she stood up with her hands on her hips, her lips pursed in displeasure.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples after putting his cutlery down. It seemed as if his wish to have a quiet dinner wasn't going to be possible. Stiffening his resolve, he stared at his wife. He loved her, but her constant belief in Dumbledore was out of line. It was as though she couldn't think for herself, see the wrongness in what the old man had done. Fred was right; they would never have let it be done to any of their own kids. He'd seen the wary looks shared amongst the other Order members, especially when it became apparent Harry did not want to be there. That he was being kept prisoner like a common criminal, worse still when they found out he'd tried to leave.

"Molly, if Albus decided to do this to Ginny, what would you have said?" Arthur asked calmly, begging for more patience, because he knew he'd need it having to deal with Molly when she started her arguments.

"Ginny isn't the one in danger," she insisted.

"But if it was?" Arthur asked, not letting the matter drop. It was as if his wife had no empathy, especially not for Harry.

Molly opened her mouth before closing it again; she stared anywhere but at her son and husband. As she really thought about the question posed before her, what if indeed? She knew deep down they'd have to get through her to lock her daughter up. She'd do anything for any of her babies, even kill. She'd do it time and time again; she loved every single one of her children. Probably a little too much, but when you lose someone close it's expected. Her thoughts strayed towards Lily; she had been a staunch defender of the weak, adamant and powerful. Anything she thought wrong she would say so immediately, just like her. The men had said it was their red hair that gave them their tempers. Her heart jerked; she knew Lily wouldn't have let anyone do anything to her son. She'd have defended even Molly's kids, which made her feel ten times worse. She'd been older than Lily by a good few years, yet got to know her better. Especially when Lily had found out she was pregnant; her parents had been dead by this time, and she had no one else to rely on. Molly, who was familiar with pregnancies, having had a few of her own by this point, knew how she was feeling and helped her a great deal. Especially having been pregnant with Ron at the time.

Molly eventually slumped down on her seat, her face pained as she finally acknowledged what her son and husband were trying to say. She suddenly found herself drained, unable to be angry at anyone, not even Harry. He had undeniably scared her, very badly, but she admitted reluctantly she might have behaved in the same manner under similar circumstances.

"Alright, I concede your point," Molly said quietly.

"He was probably just scared," Fred said just as quietly, although he didn't think Harry would ever admit that. Getting up he put his food on the worktop before slinking off up stairs; he just couldn't eat anymore.

Harry Potter however, was able to eat his dinner without a problem. He had made it today, and he was feeling very happy with himself. This was what he liked, cooking for someone, doing something, being busy. Severus though had ordered dessert from the kitchen, a strawberry tart. He'd loved it and vowed to find the recipe for it; he wanted to try it himself. The house elves had even used fresh strawberries― you could tell. The plates and cutlery had once again washed themselves.

Both of them had then taken the secret passage way to the Great Hall. Harry had used his spell on Dumbledore's chair and started his first act of vengeance against the old fool. Beginning tomorrow, anything he ate would taste of something foul, but different each time, varying from dirt, ash, pee, feces, ear wax, plastic, wood shavings, and the things he hated more than anything else in the world. It would change with each item he ate; the better he liked it, the worse it would taste. Severus couldn't help but wonder what his…beloved lemon drops would taste like, with a wry vindictive smirk. Severus couldn't help but gasp at the sound of the parseltongue in the empty hall. Oh Merlin, he'd certainly never had that kind of reaction to the language before. Thankfully…God help him should he have felt this when the Dark Lord spoke the snake language. Biting his lip, he regained control of himself just as Harry finished.

"Done," Harry said, switching back to English. He was getting the hang of speaking Parseltongue whenever he wanted.

"Then let's go," Severus said. Both of them were talking very low so as not to draw attention. The hall made everything sound deeper, louder; just in case anyone came by they remained silent as much as possible. Both of them quickly left the hall, through the secret passageway and back to Severus' quarters.

"Come," Severus said, walking through to their bedroom; if they were going to have this conversation they might as well get comfortable. Minerva had taken over his duty to patrol, so he had nothing to do tonight, unless something happened to one of his Slytherins.

Harry followed through, staring at him curiously, grabbing the nightshirt he was thrown. Harry stripped down immediately and put it on, loving the feel of the silk; he'd never worn anything like it. Back at his Dom's flat there wasn't anything like this either. Sliding into the bed, he revelled in the warmth that emanated from it.

"Sir?" Harry asked, clearly a little confused.

Severus just ignored his question as he got himself comfortable, and then brought Harry into his arms. The tension in his little Sub melted away as he got himself comfortable. "Tell me about the Dursleys, Harry," Severus said with no warning.

Harry stiffened in his hold. "You know about it; you said you heard everything."

"Yes, but I want to know more from your point of view. You need to talk about it, Harry. Do you trust me?" Severus asked; once Harry had nodded immediately he continued, "Then trust me on this. Let it go; tell me." His hand was rubbing lazy, soothing circles on Harry's back and chest.

"What do you want to know?" Harry asked, giving in.

"Tell me what a regular day was like for you there," Severus said, as if what Harry had been through could be called regular! That thought was just laughable.

"Petunia would wake me up very early, six o'clock I think; she'd always hammer on the door of my cupboard. They didn't give me pyjamas, not even Dudley's old ones, so I was already dressed. I'd go out and she'd shove a frying pan in my hand and tell me to start cooking. I'd stand there frying everything they wanted. Once the food was done they'd make me stand in the corner of the kitchen as they gorged themselves on all the food. Sometimes they'd leave the scraps for me to have, most often they'd just put everything into the bin so I couldn't eat," Harry related, bitterness lacing his voice. Closing his eyes, he simply lay there and felt the comfort freely being offered to him. "After that I'd clean everything: the kitchen, livingroom, and Dudley's bedroom. I'd do the laundry and iron Vernon's work clothes for the next day. I would then have to make lunch or brunch if Petunia had her friends over for book club. If she did, I'd be stuck in my cupboard until they left; if not, I'd be vacuuming, then doing the polishing and dusting. If I didn't get it done in time Petunia would threaten me. I'd make dinner, and no matter what I did, he beat me up. I tried to do everything the way they wanted it. I worked so hard just to make them see I could be good." His voice was cracked and filled with so much sadness.

Severus carded his fingers through his Sub's hair; cupping the back of his head he forced Harry to look at him. His heart clenched at the haunted look in those beautiful green eyes. Merlin, he wanted to take it back and forget he'd ever asked Harry to speak. Yet he knew Harry had to do this, he had to understand it wasn't his fault. "No matter what you did for them, it would never have been enough. Do you understand me? Everything could have been done to their specifications, but they still would have hurt you. They took enjoyment from making your life as hellish as possible out of spite and anger. They hated magic; Vernon hated anything not normal in his eyes, and Petunia was jealous. She hated the fact she didn't have magic and her sister and nephew did. She would have given you up, but the fact she'd be protected from people whom she considered freakish decided it for her. She also took you in out of spite so you didn't grow up happy," Severus said, noticing Harry's flinch at the word freakish. No doubt Petunia had called him a freak, as she'd done to her sister before him.

"I know," Harry said warily, he knew that no matter what he'd done, it wouldn't have been enough. "The only time he left me alone was when he had customers in, people he was trying to persuade to buy drills."

"When did you decide to run away?" Severus asked quietly, allowing Harry to rest his head against his chest again.

"I'd wanted to since I started school; five, I think I was," Harry sadly replied.

Severus' heart jerked, yet he stayed strong; strong and steady was what Harry needed. His own life hadn't been easy, but even he hadn't contemplated running away. Away from the house all day, yes, but he'd always gone back after spending the day watching or eventually talking to Lily as he had.

"The first day went really well, people were even talking to me," Harry said, the awe obvious for Severus to hear. "I had a friend, Jason; he shared his crisps with me at break time…I had thought for a minute there I wasn't the freakish boy they'd told me I was. But Dudley came up and started bullying us with his friends. They soon realized that if they talked to me, Dudley would hurt them or get them into trouble. He was always getting me into trouble, no matter what. They stopped talking to me; they never let me play their games, and even the teachers wouldn't give me the time of day."

Severus had to stop himself panting in outrage; the Dursleys hadn't just destroyed his childhood, but his education as well. They'd alienated him from absolutely everything and everyone; their depravity knew no bounds. The adults had been punished, but Dudley Dursley had got away Scot-free for his actions. Child or no, Severus loathed the fact he'd remained free despite his persecution of his submissive.

"I went home one day, I can't remember what age we were…six, maybe seven; both of us had our results from a spelling bee quiz," Harry said, gripping his Dom tightly, remembering the excruciating pain even now. "She took them out of our bags; Dudley was beaming at her, and I was just trying to get my chores done before Vernon got back."

Severus held onto Harry, just as tightly, feeling every emotion raging through his submissive like a tidal wave. He soothed him as much as he was able to, wondering what was going to be said next.

"She took the knife I'd been using to cut up the onion and stabbed me with it. She was screaming at me for cheating, yelling that I'd swapped sheets with her precious Dudders. That a freak like me couldn't do as well in anything." Harry shuddered. "She left me there, bleeding all over the place. She rubbed out my name and put Dudley's in its place, and put it up on the Fridge. Calmly as you please, she threw the first aid kit at me, telling me to clean myself up and have the kitchen and dinner done before Vernon got home."

Oh, Merlin, he felt sick; Vernon had been the only one dosed with Veritaserum. They'd gotten the impression from Vernon that it was always him, that Petunia had just sat back and let it happen, nothing more. "How did you do it?" Severus asked. How had he picked himself up and continued after being stabbed? He had just been a child! A little boy. Petunia had thought he'd used magic to switch their results? Didn't she know it wasn't possible to do things like that? Well, it was, but for a boy who didn't know about magic it was impossible!

"I didn't do it fast enough; I had just started cleaning up the floor when Vernon came home. He waited until I'd cleaned up the blood before he stood on my arm, breaking it," Harry said, swallowing thickly. "He threw me in my cupboard; I was only allowed out to do the toilet in the morning and at night. One of those nights I had to go to Figg's; she gave me clean bandages. I was able to clean the wounds in the bathroom; she had warm water. It was infected, and filled with puss." A great big shudder left Harry's body.

It was a good job Harry had been magical, otherwise the Dursleys would have killed him. Severus was sickened to the core with what he was hearing, and it made him even more determined to get vengeance for his submissive.

"I squeezed as much out as I could, cleaned it out and put the bandages on it; it healed on its own after that. Mrs. Figg just sent me home; that's when I decided I wanted to run away. I was just too scared to do it for a while. It was when Vernon stabbed me that I ran. I took nothing; I just ran and ran and ran, never looking back," Harry said, still clutching Severus close. "It was better out there after a while, when I learned to fight back, and started using magic to get clothes and food. I got to eat every day; I had warmer clothes on, clothes that fitted me."

It sounded to Severus that Harry was trying to convince himself more than Severus.

"Hush, hush now, sleep," Severus said; he didn't want to hear anymore. "They will pay for what they did, I promise you. Sleep little one, sleep." Severus continued to soothe him, murmuring quietly until Harry had calmed down and slowly started drifting to sleep. He would have given him a calming draught or a sleeping draught, but he didn't want Harry to become addicted to them. When Harry was troubled, he would want the potions, and that was something Severus wanted to avoid. He knew the compulsion himself; for a long time he'd taken Dreamless sleeping draughts to deal with the guilt. It had been the only way he could get a good night's sleep without seeing Lily's dead body, or her accusing green eyes staring at him.

For a long time Severus stared at the ceiling, still unconsciously rubbing soothing circles on Harry's now warm back. He had placed warming charms on the duvet the first night Harry had come here. The dungeons were draughty; it didn't bother him overly much, since he was used to it. Harry, on the other hand, as he'd told the twins, hated the cold. After living on the streets Severus could sympathise with that. Snape wanted to do something to the Dursleys; his body and mind was screaming out for vengeance, for blood. His black eyes sparkled dangerously, a sight nobody had seen since the night Lily died…when he'd wanted to go after Black and kill him. He had been under the impression the man had been to blame, after all. He'd been too late when he'd gotten over his grief, ready to trace the bastard down; Black had already been in Azkaban. Yet it wasn't too late for the Dursleys, they were still in prison. Did he give them a little taste of freedom before he killed them? Or did he do it while they were in prison and thus avoid suspicion? They deserved more than a quick death, torture was more appropriate for the likes of them. Maybe a Judgement spell... if he cast it on them, they'd feel everything they did to Harry. Feel it as if it was happening to them, even the loss of blood without the physical wound to go with it. Once the spell had run its course…a Muggle Poison would do the trick. Unless…unless he used an undetectable wizarding poison, as fast acting and painful as possible. He knew the best of the best, his lip curled in satisfaction, yes, they'd get their comeuppance, and he was going to have some fun first. Nobody hurt what was his and got away with it. They would rue the day they'd touched one hair on Harry's head.

Severus settled down soon afterwards and drifted off to sleep, content at last.

Edited by Jake and Jordre thank you guys :)