Harry awoke the next morning with a tight knot of anxiety blocking his stomach. He dressed slowly, listening as the sounds of the castle stirring floated up to the open Hospital Wing door. The knot tightened as he thought of joining the rest of the students in the Great Hall for breakfast. He had a taste of what was to come when he'd visited the Headmaster. All the whispering, pointing and gawking were enough to make Harry contemplate returning to the Dursley's.
Worst of all was the thought of seeing Draco Malfoy for the first time. He'd been locked in his cellar for months; tortured by his father even. The very idea of having to look that git in the face made Harry's blood turn to ice.
Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey was more than insistent. She basically threw him from the ward after he'd dressed, complaining that he'd be late for breakfast if he kept dawdling. She also made sure to remind him to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. The wounds were healed but she warned him that overexerting his weak body could cause serious damage.
Despite his apprehension, Harry's trip to the Great Hall was quite uneventful. A few stares mingled with soft whispers broke through huddled groups, but he'd had much worse in past years. It wasn't until he reached the Great Hall that his presence really caused a disturbance.
Walking through the large double doors, the roar of chattering students came suddenly to a halt. It was as if someone had pushed the mute button on the world around him. Every head turned to watch as he made his way hurriedly to the Gryffindor table, his head bowed low to hide it's flushing colors. The vast majority of his fellow Gryffindors greeted him with waves and smiles, but there were a few that could only watch as he sat down between Hermione and Ron.
"That wasn't so bad," Hermione said, passing him a plate laden with sausages without looking up from the Daily Prophet.
"You're joking right," he asked taking a sausage and placing it on his empty plate. The room had returned to its normal buzzing chatter, but Harry couldn't help but notice that several eyes were still glancing his way. He busied himself with scooping a spoon full of eggs onto his plate to accompany the sausage. "At least the worst part's over."
Beside him Ron paused, a piece of toast halfway shoved into his mouth. Cutting his eyes at Harry, he swallowed the mouthful of bread and raised his eyebrows. "Did you look at your schedule this morning," he asked tentatively.
"Yeah, but it wasn't anything too terrible." Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment. Unfolding it, he skimmed the lines until he found the right day. He shrugged his shoulders as he read the first time block. "It's just Defence Against the Dark…" He trailed off, sudden realization overcoming him. Snape was the new Professor.
"I thought you already knew," Ron said. He looked away from Harry quickly as if he had just delivered the news of a death in the family.
Harry's spirits plummeted further as he glared at the writing on the parchment. He'd read the schedule the night before, but the connection between Snape and his favorite class had slipped his mind. He couldn't face Snape, not today. The memory of those hollow black eyes staring at him from beneath the Death Eater's mask was enough by itself to send Harry into a rage. He couldn't begin to imagine what actually having to listen to the man teach for an hour would do.
Shaking his head, he pushed his untouched food away and looked up and down the Gryffindor table. "Who do think has some Puking Pasties?"
Hermione dropped her paper sternly to the table, a look of pure outrage lining her face. "Harry, no. You've already missed enough without skiving off on the first day. Besides," she glared at him as he threatened to interrupt her. "Everyone has already seen you this morning. Professor Snape will know you're using Weasley products."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he knew she was right. Clicking his teeth together, he turned back to the table and began poking his eggs with a fork absentmindedly. He could feel Ron and Hermione exchange looks behind his back, but he ignored it. They had every right to be concerned. The best Harry could hope for was that Snape would be just as keen on ignoring him.
Half an hour later they were standing outside the locked classroom door, dread filling Harry's chest like a massive weight. He would have given anything to leave the throng of people waiting for the door to open, but Hermione was standing at his elbow as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Taking a deep breath, he fidgeted with the straps of his backpack, pulling it away from his chest.
The door to the classroom swung open, and a sour-faced Snape appeared in the corridor. "Inside," he said flatly, his dark eyes sweeping over the mass.
Harry dropped his gaze immediately. Filing into the room, the first thing he noticed was how different it was compared to previous years. Snape had really poured his own style into the once bright room; there were long black drapes over the windows and gruesome painting of wizards under various curses hung on the walls. His stomach clenched at the sight of the man staring blank-eyed out of the portrait, a shade of bright green surrounding him.
Dropping his bag to the ground, Harry slumped down in an empty seat next to Ron. Behind them, the door shut with a snap and Snape stalked to the front of the room, his cloak flowing behind him. He let his eyes wander over the class again before they came to rest on Harry. His thin lips curled into an ominous sneer; it was obvious he had no intention of ignoring him.
"Today we will be concluding our study of nonverbal spells, though there are a few of you that have yet to master the technique." His attention shifted to Neville who squirmed guiltily in his seat. Harry thought about the practice he'd done in his hospital bed. The most he'd accomplished was a slight shaking of a mug as he tried to summon it from across the room without speaking. However, according to Ron, Hermione was the only one who seemed to be able to use them regularly.
"Let's try a demonstration before we split into pairs. Let's see," Snape scanned the room as if searching for a volunteer, but Harry knew what was coming. Those coal-black eyes settled on him with a vengeful gaze. "Ah Potter. We are so happy to have you back," he mocked, his arms opening wide in an over-exaggerated welcome. "Why don't you join me in demonstrating to the class how to perform a shield charm using nonverbal magic."
Harry held Snape's eye as he racked his brain for an excuse. He knew Snape was using this for an opportunity to humiliate him in retaliation for the broken nose he'd given him a month ago. Apparently, the story had spread like wildfire through the castle, causing Snape to be the butt of several outrageous jokes. Harry could easily sense the longing Snape had for a little revenge.
Forcing a shrug, Harry straightened slightly in his chair. "I'm afraid I'm one of those few who still haven't mastered it, Professor. Best chose someone who has a little more knowledge."
Snape's sneer broadened at this. "Perhaps you'll be able to perform it under pressure. You're fairly good at that."
Harry's eyes narrowed at this, unsure if Snape was alluding to something else, but before he could refuse again, the Professor pressed on. "You've gotten quite good at taking orders, so stand up and come up here."
Harry didn't have to guess what Snape's words meant, it was all right there; hidden in plain sight. Anger overtook anxiety, and he pushed his chair back roughly, the wooden legs screeching loudly against the stone flooring. Every eye followed him as he made his way to stand across from the Professor. Reaching inside his cloak, he clutched the handle of his wand tightly as he withdrew it from his pocket.
"Now, I will attempt to jinx Potter nonverbally and he, in turn, will try and protect himself without speaking," Snape said to the class. He had turned to face them, but Harry's attention remained fixed on the greasy headed professor. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione's cautioning stare and he willed himself not to look at her. He'd be damned if he was just going to stand there and let Snape humiliate him.
The Professor turned and faced Harry, that sickening smile still playing across his lips. Without warning, a burst of red light shot from Snape's wand, giving Harry no time to react. It hit him square in the chest, sending him sprawling backward onto the cold floor. Air was forced from his lungs and his hand immediately clutched at his ribs. Mended or not, they still burned like fire even with the lightest touch.
Rolling to his side, he rose slowly to his feet. The room was unnaturally quiet as everyone stared at the pair in shock. If the Slytherins had been present he would have faced an uproar of laughter. Somehow, he thought he would have preferred that to the gaping mouths of his fellow Gryffindors. Panting, he rubbed his side, trying to soothe the ache.
Snape stared at him triumphantly, his eyes burning with delight. "Let's try that again, Potter. By now you should at least be able to produce a shield charm. It's not as if I'm asking you to kill someone."
The last comment caught Harry off guard. The blood drained from his face and for a moment he lost sight of the room around him. He was standing instead in the middle of a dark drawing-room. In front of him Snape was smirking from beneath his silver Death Eater's mask and at his feet was the body of a muggle staring blankly at the ceiling. His stomach dropped and he tore his eyes away from the rigid body.
Snape raised his wand and a burst of light erupted from the end once again. Harry was ready this time despite his swirling thoughts. Sidestepping the jet of red, he leveled his wand and without hesitation shouted, "Flipendo!"
Taken by surprise, the spell knocked Snape off his feet and sent him tumbling back against his desk. The classroom was stunned for the space of a long breath and then it burst with laughter. Harry, however, remained stoic, his anger still fighting to control him. He took an advancing step, wand still raised, but Snape was already regaining his composure. He rose to his feet, a hand reaching up to feel behind his head; the pale fingers reemerged with a glint of red staining their tips. The laughter died immediately.
Professor Snape glared at Harry, every hint of a smile gone from his face, replaced instead by a burning rage. "Class dismissed," he said quietly but when no one made an attempt to rise he shouted, "GET OUT!"
Loud scuffling broke through the stunned silence as the students grabbed their bags and hurried from the room. Harry made to turn but fingers wrapped painfully around his bicep and tugged him back sharply. He looked up into Snape's livid face, dread coursing through him.
"Shut the door, Weasley," Snape snapped as Ron and Hermione hesitantly made their way from the room. Harry caught their worried glances just before the door shut softly behind them.
Alone, Snape jerked Harry around by the arm until they were standing toe to toe. "So, Potter you think you are above punishment now that you're back safely at school?" His voice was barely above a whisper but it shook Harry worse than yelling. He fumbled around for the right words to build his argument but his mind was completely blank for once. "Answer me!" Snape shouted with another sharp tug on Harry's arm.
"You were going to jinx me again," Harry said feebly.
"That is the point of this lesson in case you haven't noticed, Potter. You were to perform a nonverbal shield charm. Instead, you attacked me and would have continued if I hadn't regained my bearings quickly."
Harry thought of the step he'd taken towards Snape after he'd struck the desk. Had he actually planned to continue his assault? Pushing the thought from his mind, he remembered why he'd attacked in the first place.
"You goaded me," he protested stubbornly, his anger returning. " 'Not asking you to kill someone.' What the hell did you expect me to do?"
Snape narrowed his eyes. "I was merely making a remark on how simple nonverbal magic was. In case you are not aware, not everything is about you," he said cooly.
"That's a bloody lie! You knew exactly what you were saying!" Harry was shouting now, unable to control his rising temper. Snape had known that those particular words would set Harry off without raising suspicion from the rest of the class.
Snape smiled cruelly and shrugged his thin shoulders. He leaned down until his hooked nose was inches from Harry's. "It is not my fault you are having a difficult time acclimating back into society. I guess after months of being treated like a dog, I thought you would be better at following commands." His hot breath washed over Harry's face, each word dripping with sarcasm.
Harry jerked his arm in an attempt to free himself. He didn't have to stand there and listen to this. If Snape wanted to punish him for his actions, fine, but he would have to take it up with McGonagall. However, the grip on his bicep shifted until his arm was twisted painfully behind his back. Snape used Harry's momentum to shove him roughly forward, pushing until his face collided against the dark oak desktop, knocking his glasses askew. The Professor used this leverage to bare down against the boy's arm, driving it into the small of his back.
Harry gasped as the tendons in his arm stretched to their limits. His face rubbed against the rough surface as Snape pushed the entirety of his weight against him. He tried frantically to push back, but his trainers slipped against the stone floor causing him to fall fully against the desk. Pain shot through his hips as they connected with the sharp edge. Grinding his teeth, he fought to gain traction but Snape pushed harder against him.
Above him, he felt Snape's weight sift as he used his free hand to pull his wand from his pocket. The door gave a soft click as the lock slid into the groove, preventing anyone from bursting in. He placed his wand hand above Harry's head and leaned in closer. The movement twisted his wrist sharply, producing a small grunt from Harry's flared nostrils.
"Is this better, Potter," he sneered. His rigid breathing coming directly into Harry's ear. "This is more what you are used to is it not?"
Harry tossed his head back, but Snape was ready. He shoved forcefully against the boy's stretched arm and Harry couldn't repress the small cry as his shoulder gave a slight pop. He pressed his face against the desk as if he could escape through it, his breath coming in anxious gasps.
"Now that I have your attention, let's get a few things straight. Just because you are back behind these castle walls does not mean you are safe from repercussions. Cross me again and you will find there are worse things than a dislocated shoulder." As if to make his point, Snape pulled his arm once more and a series of small pops echoed around the room. Harry thrashed against the man's weight but to no avail. "Are we clear, Potter?"
At Harry's hesitation, he brought the boy up slightly from the desk and slammed him back down. Stars blossomed before his eyes, and Harry cried out as the breath was forced from his lungs. Despite the pain, his pride refused to be tamed.
"Ger off me, " he coughed out.
"Perhaps, " Snape said softly, bringing his wand hand up to Harry's freshly cut hair. "You secretly enjoy being treated like this. Do you like being held down, Potter?"
Again, Harry felt Snape shifting his weight over him until this time his hips were pressing firmly against his backside. A fresh wave of panic sent Harry into a writhing fit, but he was too weak to throw off the older wizard. Instead, he could hear Snape groan in his ear as he pushed harder against his shaking body.
"Lucius told me about his time with you, " he said softly and there was a change in his tone. A lustful growl accompanied each word, and Harry clenched his eyes closed. "He said you were particularly afraid of his humiliation techniques." At this, the professor removed his hand from the boy's hair, and slipping it beneath the edge of the desk, let it rest against Harry's belt buckle.
"Stop, "Harry spat. He tried to pull his hips away but found them trapped between the immovable desk edge and Professor Snape's waiting groin.
Snape chuckled above him, his long fingers relentlessly working the excess belt free from the metal buckle. Once undone, he released the button of the boy's black slacks with a sharp tug. "It would seem he was telling the truth, " he mused as Harry fought to free himself.
Terror consumed Harry and began to take several short breaths against his rising anxiety. Snape couldn't do this. Not here inside the castle walls. Not with Dumbledore a few stories above them.
"You can't do…" The rest of his sentence was lost to a sharp intake of breath as his professor's hand enveloped his groin. Bucking backward, he was all too aware of the rising bulge now being pressed against him.
"Tell me again what I can't do, Potter." Snape tugged Harry's trousers past the desk's edge, his fingernails leaving red whelps as they scratched against bare skin.
"Please," Harry begged, his free hand groping for any weapon within his reach. Finding nothing, he tried pushing against the desktop but Snape gave his arm another painful twist.
Professor Snape wedged his hand between their bodies and quickly unzipped his own trousers, releasing his growing member. "Beg me, Potter, " he growled. "Beg me to stop. Just like I use to beg your father."
Grinding his teeth, Harry shook his head. Anger intertwined with fear, and he refused to speak again. He could feel Snape positioning himself but he wouldn't beg, not now.
A short thrust forward caused Snape's head to push past the outer ring. He let out a low groan in Harry's ear as the muscles tightened around him. Another push and he sank in further. His free hand had returned to rest above Harry's head, fingers curling around the ledge for better support.
Harry couldn't hold back a small cry as his body stretched around the intrusion. His fingers scraped the wooden desk until he found the edge where he gripped until his knuckles turned white. Part of him prayed for someone to hear them, to stop it from advancing further, but another part couldn't stand the embarrassment that would follow. He could only hope this would be over soon.
"We've got hours before my next class, Potter, " he said huskily as if reading Harry's thoughts. "Maybe I can instill some obedience into you by then." He drove forward slightly, producing another whimper from the boy who tried to pull himself forward.
"Mmm, that's it. Fight me."
Harry cried out fully as Snape drove himself to the hilt. Without thinking, he tossed his half-clothed body back against the weight constraining him. His arm stretched in Snape's grasp and he quickly lay flat again. The Professor moaned against the sudden movement causing Harry to gag on the wave of repulsion filling his throat.
"Slow down, boy. You're so tight. We don't want you tearing." Snape slowly began to rock back and forth, dragging himself in and out. "Ahh, there we go."
Harry screwed up his face as the burning pain turned into rhythmic friction. He easily denied the pleasure, tears streaming from his cheeks to darken the wood below. However, as Snape's thrusts deepened, his exploring tip struck a nerve. Grip tightening, Harry clamped his teeth down to suppress a moan but he couldn't stop his own groin from twitching.
As if sensing the change, Snape worked his hand around to grope Harry. Harry recoiled away from the cool fingertips, only managing to impale himself further. Snape rocked forward, striking the nerve again. Flushing, Harry felt himself stir inside his professor's grasp.
"Yes, " Snape groaned. His grip tightened on Harry's penis, as he slowly began to manipulate its head. "You like this? You like being hurt?"
Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep any sound from escaping as Snape's movements became swifter. However, Snape gave a particularly hard thrust that knocked Harry's bony hips painfully against the edge of the desk. Growling through his gritted teeth, Harry reached his free hand up and scratched at Snape's face.
The man snarled and ceased his movements long enough to trap Harry's hand to the desk above his head. With the boy completely immobilized, he continued with renewed vigor. His thrusts we're erratic now, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he placed his face next to Harry's. Hot stale air invaded Harry's flared nostrils, bringing with it a sickly smell of mint.
"Beg me to stop, Potter," Snape repeated. He drove himself deeper, causing Harry to scream out with abandon. Someone would hear them. Someone would come. But it was too late. Harry was already aware of how humiliated he felt. Every time he saw Snape now, he would be reminded of this moment. Reminded of how easily the man had been able to assault him.
"That's it. Mmm, cry out. Yell for help."
Harry had lost all feeling of pleasure. Snape was now painfully using him, abandoning his futile attempts to arouse the boy. He slammed his body into Harry's, pinning him mercilessly against the table. When Harry refused to continue his cries, Snape smashed Harry's face into the desk with a quick swoop of his hand.
The rough boards collided with Harry's face, bringing the acrid taste of copper to his lips. He choked as the warm liquid filled his airways, making it impossible to breathe. He thrashed backward against his better judgment, fighting for air to fill his aching lungs. However, he felt Snape's grip move to his neck, choking any attempts of finding oxygen.
"Yes," Snape moaned as Harry reached his now free hand up to claw at the to fingers blocking his airways. He used Harry's frantic movements as leverage, grinding against each turn and twist.
It was over suddenly. Harry felt the weight relinquish, and he collapsed awkwardly to the floor in a fit of gurgling coughs. He gasped around the mixture dripping from his sinuses as specks of snot, spit, and blood launched from his mouth. The room came into bright sharp focus as he rubbed his aching shoulder and neck.
Professor Snape stood over him, adjusting his robes as if nothing had happened. However, the sneer upon his face was enough to say it all. He looked down at Harry, who quickly looked away, shame washing over his blood-smeared face.
The man laughed cruelly. " Now, let's try this again, Potter. Who's in charge here?"
Harry fumbled with his pants, his nose snarling instinctively in defiance. Swallowing his pride, he nodded in subtle surrender.
"I need to hear you say it, Potter," he seethed viciously. "Look at me and tell me who is in charge."
"You are," Harry growled out with some effort. He brought his eyes up to stare into those black pits.
"Good. I want you to remember this every time you get the idea of being cheeky in my class again. Let's add a month's worth of detention, just to make sure you don't forget." The Professor's sneer widened, and Harry fought the urge to turn away. "Now, get out of my classroom."