Title: Seed (5/?)
Author: foxgoddess
Website: foxgoddess.net (sign guest book *wink wink*)
Rating: pg whatever
Pairing: duuuh
Note: tired but going to post it now, get it betaed later.
"Mr. Potter." Black robes bellowed as the men entered the room, eyes glaring down his hawk nose. "Pray tell what that thing is?" Those eyes, cold black, uncaring, as usual, always like that, every day. Why couldn't Snape ever like him? Why was he always mean? Why?
The billowing robes, so characteristic of that man, the only thing loose about him, brushed him as the man leaned down and kissed Harry gently at first, then harshly with an air of being forced. Snape, forced into anything? No. He was so strong. Never being nice but never giving up, right? Snape, the dark gloomy potions master, a regular old muggle mad science or villain, but not. Snape was smart, could see into anyone, always saw into Harry and told him the truth. Always.
Not always. He was nice, said something nice, sometimes, during the summer maybe. He had. Congratulated Harry on something? Hadn't he? Hadn't he?
Hadn't he? Didn't matter now. Snape was being good; pleasure Harry felt through his body. Cursing through him. He closed his blurry eyes, opened them, saw the room, and screamed. Scary place. He knew this place. No. He didn't. Someone else did that was him but not. Snape was over him, kissing him, licking him, gently, but owie, it hurt below. Something was wrong, different not him.
He looked down and screamed again. It wasn't him. It was her, not him. She knew this place, this event, this Snape, not him. Why not him? Why only her? Why?
She closed her eyes, opened them up in a room of the same function as the last but different. A simple bed for two, potions of sorts and other trinkets lining walls, a cracked mirror decorated this one. He recognized it, from his dreams. Snape room, where he'd image Snape being so nice, so like she knew, but only he knew in his dreams, in his mind. He looked down. Snape was Snape again, on him, taking him, like he had done with Her, lucky her. Why could Harry be her and get Snape?
Why couldn't Snape be good to him, to be how he wanted him?
Why....
"Mister Potter."
Harry's head snapped up as Snape stood below him, scowl on and eyes glaring at him. Harry had fallen asleep in class again. What was his dream? He could only remember glimpses of it that frightened him badly. They were weird, but good, but something had been off, something he needed to know.
"Welcome back Potter to where all the rest of your /peers/ had to work, where you, obviously too good for them, were sleeping." The words cut shallow but stung. With lowered eyes and a faint blush, Harry wondered if he would get another detention in front of the laughing Slytherin. Maybe it would be with Snape. Not to be lowered as mush as his eyes, his heart jumped a bit at the thought of detention with the gloomy professor. This pleasure at the thought, he did not want to think why it came, content to believe he wanted to meet Snape's fabled new pet.
"Do a three foot paper on-- " Snape trailed off, looking around the room before his eyes landed on a backpack half covered with a comic book featuring a very masculine woman on its cover. --"Gender changing potions through the ages. Bring it to me next class."
Harry's heart lowered more than his eyes. He wouldn't see Snape, but instead, work hard on an assignment. The rest of the day could not be even more unpleasant, could it?
***
One day, humans would learn that everything did get worse after they just think it cannot. For Harry it did, but only just barely.
Classes went by as good, he earned five house points in Care of Magical creatures on the good side, Trelawney predicted next week he would disappear because of a evil potion, which caused a lot of laughs and jokes about Snape being the one who made the potion. Dinner went fine, though it was a bit rushed so he could get to the library to work on Snape's report, which actually turned out quite interesting and left him with a nagging feeling that something in there wanted him to study it.
The thing that happened, that forced a terrified scream from his soul and mouth, that ached his body mentally and physically, it happened after he fell to a drowsy sleep in his soon to be not quiet dorm. All because of a dream:
Snape's sneering face met him, and to the side, just next to him, was a stack load of papers with "Harry Potter" written in childlike black ink and "F-" written in strong but elegant red ink. "You know what F- means, Potter? Failure." Snape laughed, unlike himself, as he grabbed Potter by the airs and started dragging him, uncaring as the boy bumped and jolted against the uneven ground. He broke his leg on it, just like in the saying, and here came the stage, which Snape stood him in front of.
"Here, everyone, is F- Potter, not the boy who lived as a good thing, but the boy who let others die and lived to tell about it and receive the glory for that." Snape picked him up, lead a passionate, emotion driven kiss on his forehead as he then through the boy into the crowd. Woops came from everywhere. Hands and legs kicked and dragged him, taking him away, and setting him down to sit on a dummy's chair.
Dumbledore came with a velvet blindfold and a kindly, grandfatherly smile. He chewed on a giant lemon drop as he put the blindfold on Harry and as he told Harry how the stool was really a king's throne and Harry the king, like some fairy tale. Harry nodded; content to believe Dumbledore.
Soon, his wizard by his side, King Arthur played by Harry went off to defeat the dragon. This red-eyed dragon tried eating him, but couldn't. With a roar, the dragon turned into a man named Voldemore and waved a twig at the great king.
Harry screamed as his body changed from a perfect boy to a defected female.
Harry had screamed for real in the real world so to speak, though did not wake up. His friends, wondering aloud about the scream and something else, awoke him with sound alone. No one dared to open the bed curtains; why...? his sleepy mind asked as his body processed the answer.
A small body cuddled against his own. Warm, skinny eyes wrapped around his waist and a hard head pressed against his chest. Harry body curved into the smaller one, protecting it almost like a mother, as funny as that thought was.
Awareness of the pain seeped into his body to start, then flooded in. Luckily, he managed not to scream this time. The body's comfort stopped him. Thankfully.
Now aware of the pain, he opened his eyes, slowly, dizzily, and painfully. A small face of the first year Snape child, he recognized it looking up at him with wide eyes that seemed to want Harry not to ever hurt again. What was the boy doing here? He thought idly just as he thought he liked the boy there, felt something to him though not sure what. Some emotion he had never felt for a long while and never like this, he felt for the boy.
His eyes narrowed as some wrinkles in his robes looked wrong. He reached up, detangling his arm from the boy and cupped his breasts, his girl breasts. His hand moved down and slipped into his robes to lightly touch the area down there. Female also.
The boy's arms tightened around him. Comfort and maybe some weird form of love seeped into him, calmed him, before the pain came back.
His body started changing, morphing back to /his/ body. It hurt so much, the feel of his skin, muscles, and bones changing all at once. The boy tried to take the pain away. He failed mostly.
Harry screamed again as everything went back to his normal, male body. He had closed his eyes for the pain, and now opened them for the lack of the pain and the boy. The only sign of the boy was the crumpled sheet in the impression of his body. A want filled Harry for the boy to be back, even if he had to have the female body. The boy, the love he felt for and from him, he wanted that. It was so pure.
"Harry," Ron said, pulling back the curtain, worry eyes stared at Harry.
"I'm fine. I just had a nightmare. About the project Snape making me do. Have to check some facts. Bye." Harry quickly grabbed his paper and a book he borrowed from the library.
He knew what had been bothering him earlier.
Twenty minutes later, someone found Harry reading a book ashen face under a stairway. His arms trembled as he squinted at each passage of the small print in the book "Gender Mania."
"Mr. Potter," the someone said, eyes raised at the unhidden boy. "What are you doing here?"
Harry looked up, eyes widened, a distingue flush to his face. The book became clutched to his chest to hide its name and content, but that stage of being did not last for long. Snape tugged on the book just a little and it came free for him to look at.
""Gender Mania" is it? Or is that just the outside?" Snape flipped through it and shook his head. The boy hadn't disguised some illegal book. "Doing your homework then? But without a scroll?" Snape's eyebrows scrunched as he studied the boy and the book. Why was the boy out here, truly? This evening, he had seen the boy finish the assignment, so had no need to look at this book any longer.
Potter stared at the floor, a faint gulp coming from him. "I needed to check some facts." He was lying; Snape could tell.
"Come with me, Potter." A faint thread of anger laced his voice. Why had this boy lied so obviously? Harry, check a fact in such a place? No, there was something more to this than that. Snape would find out what that was.
A five-minute walk and they were in the dungeons, in Snape's chambers that Harry hadn't been to in since summer, sitting in two firm chairs facing each other. Harry, eyes still watching the floor, saw the nose of a cat first before the rest of the body scampered out from a bookshelf. The cat sniffed him, purred, jumped in his lap, and forced him to pet it. So this was Snape's new pet.
Harry idly pet the cat, wondering if it was magic briefly, but decided he didn't really care. He ran his hand down the curled body, feeling the soft hair brush his hands.
"Potter, what were you doing earlier?"
Harry started. He had forgotten where he was for a second. He could lie to Snape again. No, that would just make Snape made. Harry did not want to make Snape mad right now. He didn't want Snape to hate him. But he would, after what Harry told him, the truth.
"I had a nightmare." He stopped briefly at the memory of Snape and the f- papers. Snape would hate him, think him disgusting, worse than in the memory, wouldn't he? But he was a Death Eater in the past.
"And?" Snape's eyebrows quirked up.
"A really bad dream. Really bad. You were in it--" Snape grinned at this till Harry spoke again "-- and, I awoke, screaming. I was a girl when I awoke. I think --"
"What are you talking about?" Snape stood up, scaring the cat away. He set one hand down on each armrest and his carefully modeled angry façade came on as anything but a facade.
This boy, it couldn't be. Not that girl during the summer. Had he found out and just taunting him, making fun of the greasy old professor? No, Harry would not do that, would he? Who wouldn't want to do this to someone they hated?
Harry sank into the chair. "I'm sorry. I think over the summer, I think, someone gave me a potion. It's in the book. I looked it up. The potion mkaer messed up, cooked it on the wrong temperature or something. Now, I turn back into a girl sometimes, and it hurts, and, and, please don't hate me." Harry was crying, like a weak girl. But wasn't he weak?
Snape whirled around, away from Harry, pacing.
Harry, that girl? The one that he'd... No, it couldn't be. Snape could not have raped Harry, no, not Harry. That was just... No, it couldn't be true. Harry must be lying, imagining, something like that. Please no.
Pain jolted into his arm. He had hit the wall hard enough to make him bleed.
"Professor Snape, don't hurt yourself because of me." Harry was standing next to Snape, staring at the blood sadly.
"No, not because of you, Harry. No, not at all. I'll go search for a cure now. I'll be in the library." Snape walked off, with the book, eyes dead.
Harry watched him leave, wanting him to come back but not.
"Professor, the library is in the other direction."
The cat rubbed against him, wanting to be pet again. Harry sat back down in Snape's chair. Snape wouldn't mind too much if he just took a nap here?
He fell asleep, the cat a small comfort only when he longed for the different touches of two others.
Author: foxgoddess
Website: foxgoddess.net (sign guest book *wink wink*)
Rating: pg whatever
Pairing: duuuh
Note: tired but going to post it now, get it betaed later.
"Mr. Potter." Black robes bellowed as the men entered the room, eyes glaring down his hawk nose. "Pray tell what that thing is?" Those eyes, cold black, uncaring, as usual, always like that, every day. Why couldn't Snape ever like him? Why was he always mean? Why?
The billowing robes, so characteristic of that man, the only thing loose about him, brushed him as the man leaned down and kissed Harry gently at first, then harshly with an air of being forced. Snape, forced into anything? No. He was so strong. Never being nice but never giving up, right? Snape, the dark gloomy potions master, a regular old muggle mad science or villain, but not. Snape was smart, could see into anyone, always saw into Harry and told him the truth. Always.
Not always. He was nice, said something nice, sometimes, during the summer maybe. He had. Congratulated Harry on something? Hadn't he? Hadn't he?
Hadn't he? Didn't matter now. Snape was being good; pleasure Harry felt through his body. Cursing through him. He closed his blurry eyes, opened them, saw the room, and screamed. Scary place. He knew this place. No. He didn't. Someone else did that was him but not. Snape was over him, kissing him, licking him, gently, but owie, it hurt below. Something was wrong, different not him.
He looked down and screamed again. It wasn't him. It was her, not him. She knew this place, this event, this Snape, not him. Why not him? Why only her? Why?
She closed her eyes, opened them up in a room of the same function as the last but different. A simple bed for two, potions of sorts and other trinkets lining walls, a cracked mirror decorated this one. He recognized it, from his dreams. Snape room, where he'd image Snape being so nice, so like she knew, but only he knew in his dreams, in his mind. He looked down. Snape was Snape again, on him, taking him, like he had done with Her, lucky her. Why could Harry be her and get Snape?
Why couldn't Snape be good to him, to be how he wanted him?
Why....
"Mister Potter."
Harry's head snapped up as Snape stood below him, scowl on and eyes glaring at him. Harry had fallen asleep in class again. What was his dream? He could only remember glimpses of it that frightened him badly. They were weird, but good, but something had been off, something he needed to know.
"Welcome back Potter to where all the rest of your /peers/ had to work, where you, obviously too good for them, were sleeping." The words cut shallow but stung. With lowered eyes and a faint blush, Harry wondered if he would get another detention in front of the laughing Slytherin. Maybe it would be with Snape. Not to be lowered as mush as his eyes, his heart jumped a bit at the thought of detention with the gloomy professor. This pleasure at the thought, he did not want to think why it came, content to believe he wanted to meet Snape's fabled new pet.
"Do a three foot paper on-- " Snape trailed off, looking around the room before his eyes landed on a backpack half covered with a comic book featuring a very masculine woman on its cover. --"Gender changing potions through the ages. Bring it to me next class."
Harry's heart lowered more than his eyes. He wouldn't see Snape, but instead, work hard on an assignment. The rest of the day could not be even more unpleasant, could it?
***
One day, humans would learn that everything did get worse after they just think it cannot. For Harry it did, but only just barely.
Classes went by as good, he earned five house points in Care of Magical creatures on the good side, Trelawney predicted next week he would disappear because of a evil potion, which caused a lot of laughs and jokes about Snape being the one who made the potion. Dinner went fine, though it was a bit rushed so he could get to the library to work on Snape's report, which actually turned out quite interesting and left him with a nagging feeling that something in there wanted him to study it.
The thing that happened, that forced a terrified scream from his soul and mouth, that ached his body mentally and physically, it happened after he fell to a drowsy sleep in his soon to be not quiet dorm. All because of a dream:
Snape's sneering face met him, and to the side, just next to him, was a stack load of papers with "Harry Potter" written in childlike black ink and "F-" written in strong but elegant red ink. "You know what F- means, Potter? Failure." Snape laughed, unlike himself, as he grabbed Potter by the airs and started dragging him, uncaring as the boy bumped and jolted against the uneven ground. He broke his leg on it, just like in the saying, and here came the stage, which Snape stood him in front of.
"Here, everyone, is F- Potter, not the boy who lived as a good thing, but the boy who let others die and lived to tell about it and receive the glory for that." Snape picked him up, lead a passionate, emotion driven kiss on his forehead as he then through the boy into the crowd. Woops came from everywhere. Hands and legs kicked and dragged him, taking him away, and setting him down to sit on a dummy's chair.
Dumbledore came with a velvet blindfold and a kindly, grandfatherly smile. He chewed on a giant lemon drop as he put the blindfold on Harry and as he told Harry how the stool was really a king's throne and Harry the king, like some fairy tale. Harry nodded; content to believe Dumbledore.
Soon, his wizard by his side, King Arthur played by Harry went off to defeat the dragon. This red-eyed dragon tried eating him, but couldn't. With a roar, the dragon turned into a man named Voldemore and waved a twig at the great king.
Harry screamed as his body changed from a perfect boy to a defected female.
Harry had screamed for real in the real world so to speak, though did not wake up. His friends, wondering aloud about the scream and something else, awoke him with sound alone. No one dared to open the bed curtains; why...? his sleepy mind asked as his body processed the answer.
A small body cuddled against his own. Warm, skinny eyes wrapped around his waist and a hard head pressed against his chest. Harry body curved into the smaller one, protecting it almost like a mother, as funny as that thought was.
Awareness of the pain seeped into his body to start, then flooded in. Luckily, he managed not to scream this time. The body's comfort stopped him. Thankfully.
Now aware of the pain, he opened his eyes, slowly, dizzily, and painfully. A small face of the first year Snape child, he recognized it looking up at him with wide eyes that seemed to want Harry not to ever hurt again. What was the boy doing here? He thought idly just as he thought he liked the boy there, felt something to him though not sure what. Some emotion he had never felt for a long while and never like this, he felt for the boy.
His eyes narrowed as some wrinkles in his robes looked wrong. He reached up, detangling his arm from the boy and cupped his breasts, his girl breasts. His hand moved down and slipped into his robes to lightly touch the area down there. Female also.
The boy's arms tightened around him. Comfort and maybe some weird form of love seeped into him, calmed him, before the pain came back.
His body started changing, morphing back to /his/ body. It hurt so much, the feel of his skin, muscles, and bones changing all at once. The boy tried to take the pain away. He failed mostly.
Harry screamed again as everything went back to his normal, male body. He had closed his eyes for the pain, and now opened them for the lack of the pain and the boy. The only sign of the boy was the crumpled sheet in the impression of his body. A want filled Harry for the boy to be back, even if he had to have the female body. The boy, the love he felt for and from him, he wanted that. It was so pure.
"Harry," Ron said, pulling back the curtain, worry eyes stared at Harry.
"I'm fine. I just had a nightmare. About the project Snape making me do. Have to check some facts. Bye." Harry quickly grabbed his paper and a book he borrowed from the library.
He knew what had been bothering him earlier.
Twenty minutes later, someone found Harry reading a book ashen face under a stairway. His arms trembled as he squinted at each passage of the small print in the book "Gender Mania."
"Mr. Potter," the someone said, eyes raised at the unhidden boy. "What are you doing here?"
Harry looked up, eyes widened, a distingue flush to his face. The book became clutched to his chest to hide its name and content, but that stage of being did not last for long. Snape tugged on the book just a little and it came free for him to look at.
""Gender Mania" is it? Or is that just the outside?" Snape flipped through it and shook his head. The boy hadn't disguised some illegal book. "Doing your homework then? But without a scroll?" Snape's eyebrows scrunched as he studied the boy and the book. Why was the boy out here, truly? This evening, he had seen the boy finish the assignment, so had no need to look at this book any longer.
Potter stared at the floor, a faint gulp coming from him. "I needed to check some facts." He was lying; Snape could tell.
"Come with me, Potter." A faint thread of anger laced his voice. Why had this boy lied so obviously? Harry, check a fact in such a place? No, there was something more to this than that. Snape would find out what that was.
A five-minute walk and they were in the dungeons, in Snape's chambers that Harry hadn't been to in since summer, sitting in two firm chairs facing each other. Harry, eyes still watching the floor, saw the nose of a cat first before the rest of the body scampered out from a bookshelf. The cat sniffed him, purred, jumped in his lap, and forced him to pet it. So this was Snape's new pet.
Harry idly pet the cat, wondering if it was magic briefly, but decided he didn't really care. He ran his hand down the curled body, feeling the soft hair brush his hands.
"Potter, what were you doing earlier?"
Harry started. He had forgotten where he was for a second. He could lie to Snape again. No, that would just make Snape made. Harry did not want to make Snape mad right now. He didn't want Snape to hate him. But he would, after what Harry told him, the truth.
"I had a nightmare." He stopped briefly at the memory of Snape and the f- papers. Snape would hate him, think him disgusting, worse than in the memory, wouldn't he? But he was a Death Eater in the past.
"And?" Snape's eyebrows quirked up.
"A really bad dream. Really bad. You were in it--" Snape grinned at this till Harry spoke again "-- and, I awoke, screaming. I was a girl when I awoke. I think --"
"What are you talking about?" Snape stood up, scaring the cat away. He set one hand down on each armrest and his carefully modeled angry façade came on as anything but a facade.
This boy, it couldn't be. Not that girl during the summer. Had he found out and just taunting him, making fun of the greasy old professor? No, Harry would not do that, would he? Who wouldn't want to do this to someone they hated?
Harry sank into the chair. "I'm sorry. I think over the summer, I think, someone gave me a potion. It's in the book. I looked it up. The potion mkaer messed up, cooked it on the wrong temperature or something. Now, I turn back into a girl sometimes, and it hurts, and, and, please don't hate me." Harry was crying, like a weak girl. But wasn't he weak?
Snape whirled around, away from Harry, pacing.
Harry, that girl? The one that he'd... No, it couldn't be. Snape could not have raped Harry, no, not Harry. That was just... No, it couldn't be true. Harry must be lying, imagining, something like that. Please no.
Pain jolted into his arm. He had hit the wall hard enough to make him bleed.
"Professor Snape, don't hurt yourself because of me." Harry was standing next to Snape, staring at the blood sadly.
"No, not because of you, Harry. No, not at all. I'll go search for a cure now. I'll be in the library." Snape walked off, with the book, eyes dead.
Harry watched him leave, wanting him to come back but not.
"Professor, the library is in the other direction."
The cat rubbed against him, wanting to be pet again. Harry sat back down in Snape's chair. Snape wouldn't mind too much if he just took a nap here?
He fell asleep, the cat a small comfort only when he longed for the different touches of two others.