Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part I : Severus
Chapter Eight : Ruthless

Sunday : 22 August 1999

The incident that evening had been a revelation to Severus; he'd thought he'd buried those feelings for Harry over five months before, but he could not deny his response when he'd held him this time. Afterwards, whenever they met, he fiercely suppressed his feelings, not wanting to frighten the younger man with their unexpected intensity.

Snape wanted more. Something for himself. Harry for himself. It had been a long time coming.

For the first time in his life he found himself in Dumbledore's office seeking counsel. He needed reassurance from someone he wasn't going off the deep end with his desire for a young man barely out of his childhood. Handing him a cup of his cursed tea, Dumbledore had been insufferably smug about the whole blighted thing.

Albus took a sip of the scalding liquid, apparently satisfied with its strong, milky sweetness and said, "Severus, you are assuming Harry was ever young; I assure you he's older inside than he looks. It seems perfectly natural to me that you be together. After all, the two of you have been dancing around each other since he was a child. And considering what you went through at the final battle--I've just been waiting for both of you to grow up."

Severus continued to stir his tea. The Headmaster always made it too hot. "Thank you so much Albus. Your sentiments do much to ease my mind," he said with all the sarcasm he could muster.

Albus chuckled and shook his head, taking another sip, the cup rattling the spoon on the saucer. "Severus, you know I'm right. Or, did you miss the obvious signs that Harry has been thinking about it ever since the two of you started working together?"

"Hmmm, was that before, or after he started sleeping with Draco?"

"Severus, you're purposely being obtuse. Do I detect a note of jealousy?" He laughed. "He was 17 years old. How long did you expect him to wait while you figured it out?" He offered him a plate, "Biscuit?"

He shook his head and wondered why he was the last one to 'figure it out'.

Putting the plate back on the desk, Dumbledore commented, "If you expected him to pine or languish for you, you'd be sadly mistaken. Although, I am thinking that might just happen this time if you don't get off your duff and do something about it. Silly git. You've upped the ante now. He knows you care. Any more delay on your part and you risk injuring him." He fixed him with a baleful eye, "I would be most displeased were that to happen, as would Remus, I think."

"Remus? What does Remus have to do with this?" Severus asked, mystified.

"You don't live in a vacuum, Severus. Of course, as Harry's nearest 'relative' he'll surely want to tell him about it. And Remus will certainly want to know your intentions." He eyed Severus, waiting for the storm.

"Intentions?" Severus exclaimed loudly. "Wait a minute. I haven't even slept with him yet, and you're talking about our whole future together? What if I just want to shag him?" he asked almost yelling.

Albus gave him one of his infuriating smiles. Severus would've given everything he owned to wipe it off his face in the most painful manner possible. "My dear boy, please accept my humblest apologies. I thought you were further along in knowing your own mind than you are. Now shoo and think it over. You obviously have not dug deeply enough."

Albus motioned him through the door and before he knew it, he was winding his way down the stairs, the door shut firmly behind him.

Bemused, he thought, 'Surreal, this is getting surreal.'

****

September/October 1999

Severus had given Harry more than a month to change his mind, to go back to Draco. During that apprehensive time, he also did his own soul-searching to further explore his underlying motives and feelings. The time of introspection showed him that, despite his heated words to Dumbledore, he wanted more from Harry than just a 'quick shag'--a lot more.

One night, several weeks after the duel, he'd seized a golden opportunity and asked Harry nonchalantly if he would like to join him for a drink. With apparent enthusiasm Harry had come to his quarters to share 'a small libation'. Bolstering his own courage during their ensuing conversation, Severus had finally broached the subject of Harry possibly entering a relationship with him. While that seduction had not gone exactly the way he'd envisioned it (and the memory could always bring him a smile and a frown), it was promising nonetheless and shortly thereafter he and Harry had moved in together. A few weeks more, time Harry needed to heal, saw them falling into their intimacy after some surprising compromises.

Their relationship, as it grew, was at times tumultuous, with a stormy passion. At other times it fit them like an old comfortable pair of shoes, well broken in and worn whenever possible. Harry found the security and affection he'd been looking for; someone who understood what he'd gone through and who didn't always ask him if he was all right. Severus found these same considerations from Harry along with a freshness from his youthful perspective and an enthusiasm he'd long thought dead.

Harry's eagerness and desire had astounded him. He had his own yearnings answered when Harry gave him complete trust despite the ugly memories Draco had left him. A trust Severus had found impossible to betray even when he'd learned the extent of the hurt Draco had caused him. However, that did not mean he'd told Harry everything he'd found out about it. Harry'd had enough to deal with, without learning how close he came to dying even after his break-up with Draco.

****

26 October 1999

Late in the evening, long after Harry would normally have been in bed, Severus dragged his sorry self back to their quarters, exhausted after a very long, unsettling two days. He and Dumbledore had confronted Draco the day before over his actions against Harry, among other things. The night before, Severus had come to bed long after Harry was asleep and had left before dawn, long before he was awake.

After a gruelling morning and an ugly afternoon, Severus had retired to his private lab to brew a complex potion, a double dose of which he had in his pocket. After he'd finished it, well after dark, Dumbledore had personally escorted Draco to the outskirts of the castle grounds and, with extreme private censure, dismissed the Slytherin from Hogwarts. After seeing him well on his way, Dumbledore had adjusted the wards to warn him if Draco ever returned and to exclude him, forcefully if need be.

Severus supposed, looking back on it, he shouldn't have been so shocked when Harry felt he'd betrayed his confidence. They'd only been together a few weeks; he should have known Harry would think Draco's departure from Hogwarts (in a cloud of unspecified disgrace) was because of the assault he'd told Severus about; it was the one thing Dumbledore could not ignore. There was no way for Harry to know Severus had never said a word about it. He'd not needed to--Dumbledore had already known.

As it was, he was ill prepared to be met at the door by a very angry Harry. "Severus, did you have anything to do with Draco's expulsion?" he asked, his eyes wary, telling his fear of the answer.

"Yes, I did but not necessarily for the reason you think," he'd replied, his voice raspy.

Harry sputtered. "Severus, I trusted you. Why did you tell Dumbledore?" he asked, his eyes raw and wounded.

Severus sighed, his heart starting to pound. He could feel Harry slipping away from him; the conviction of betrayal evident in his eyes. "I said nothing, Harry. I didn't need to. Dumbledore already knew."

"Oh? So Draco just walked up to Dumbledore and confessed?" he asked heatedly.

"Actually, that's not too far from the truth," Severus said, trying to suppress the sordid memories of Draco's 'confession'. "Draco gave himself away."

"That makes me feel so much better," he retorted, his sarcasm almost on a par with Snape's.

Severus felt something snap deep within him. His usual calm fled, leaving an irate human being behind, one who was very tired of people assuming the worst of him. "Perhaps I read you wrong, Mr. Potter, but I thought we had some small trust between us. Evidently, I was wrong. How dare you speak of your supposedly betrayed confidence in me when you cannot even muster a tiny shred for me. Thank you ever so much for your sordid little assumptions."

He stalked into the bed chamber, trying to take off his heavy robes, the room suddenly unbearably hot. His shaking hands were not managing the clasps well and he closed his eyes, trying to get his temper in check long enough to take the torment off his back. As he tried again, his hands were stilled by cool fingers covering his. The hands gently moved his aside and effortlessly unfastened the clasps, shifting the outer robe off his overheated body where it fell in a puddle behind him on the floor. His exposed skin soaked in the cooler air gratefully.

The softest of lips firmly met his in a contrite kiss, Harry's arms sliding around his waist to pull him close. He couldn't help it, he was damned already and he let Harry hold him, his own arms moving around his shoulders. Their hearts beat comfortably through the thin shirts they wore. Harry was first to break off his kiss, his lips trailing across Severus' cheek and down his neck; he rested his head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "That was pretty rotten of me, wasn't it? One would think I'd have learned by now, wouldn't one?"

Severus felt his reply rumble through his chest. "Yes, one could think so, if one were not already so inured to so many poor assumptions."

There was an inherent loneliness in the statement and Severus could see Harry's heartfelt chagrin at his part of it shine in his eyes. "You deserve better," Harry said simply, his hands running up and down his back soothingly.

Severus felt the anger dissolve, leaving behind a bone-wearing exhaustion. He gratefully accepted both the apology and the hug. They felt too good.

Harry broke away and taking Severus' hand, led him back to the couch in the front sitting room. He sat near the end and pulled Severus down to half-recline across his lap, his head and back resting on the side pillows at the arm. He was conveniently handy and Harry leaned over to steal a long kiss, one hand stroking Severus' face and hair, the other snug around his waist. He pulled away and said quietly, his searching eyes a few inches away. "Let's start this over." He smiled and stole another kiss. "How was your day, dear."

"Seems I can't resist anything about you," Severus murmured, both relieved and amused. "It was shitty, honey." he drawled.

Harry chuckled. "Tell me all about it," was spoken into his lips.

Severus groaned and pulled him down for the kiss he really wanted, long and deep, something to erase the harrowing day and leave them both breathless. Harry's hand clenched almost painfully on his waist as he pulled him closer. He pulled back, gasping, "Now, now. None of your redirecting distractions." Suddenly serious, darkening green eyes bored into black ones, "I need to know."

He sighed, leaning back into the cushions. "Do you remember the conversation we had with Dumbledore the day of the duel? About the possibility of a spell or a Potion controlling you?"

"How can I not? The day was rather traumatic," he answered bleakly. "Why? Did you find one?"

Severus nodded. "Just yesterday. Shortly after our first night together, I did go to Albus with your description of feeling drugged; it was the break we'd been looking for to start pursuing action against Draco and to justify searching his quarters. I'd not needed to tell Dumbledore about the assault--he already suspected what had happened between you and Draco. To him it was self-evident from your behaviour that day, although without confirmation from you--or me--there was little he could do. He decided to keep Draco at the school, for a variety of reasons, but mainly to keep an eye on him."

He chuckled. "One of those reasons was to try and find out how Draco was getting information you weren't privy to. We were delayed in looking for the potion when we, quite by accident, discovered how Draco and his father had been listening in on Dumbledore's office."

Harry raised his brows in inquiry. "Really? How were they doing it?"

"Mice. Specially charmed mice. Albus has a whole passel of normal ones up there, likes to have them around as kind of a cake crumb patrol. One of them climbed into my pocket unawares and when I got back here afterwards, Horatio honed in on it and had a quick snack--you know how he is." Harry chuckled and Severus returned his smile. "A few minutes later, the mouse was regurgitated on my lap. Horatio was extremely apologetic, or at least I think he was, but since I'd never seen him get sick from anything before, I took the slimy thing to the lab and tested it. I found the listening charm almost immediately."

He grimaced. "I'm afraid Albus had to start his whole mouse collection over again, but Horatio had fun. Did you know he can consume about two dozen mice at one sitting?" Shaking his head, he chuckled, "Truly amazing. He 'lost' about half that he ate, all charmed, and was so stuffed from the rest you could see their shapes through his skin. I don't think he stirred for a week afterwards."

Harry grimaced. "Ewwww. That's a picture I could have lived without. I did wonder what happened to him, but didn't think much of it at the time. He's not exactly the most energetic creature at the best of times."

Severus chuckled and then sobered, saying quietly, "Several days later, once we were sure the Malfoys were no longer listening in, Albus and I took the liberty of searching the Slytherin House. We've been searching almost every day for the last two weeks. Only yesterday morning, we found the potion; it was the Basium Excessum Potion as I had suspected; Draco had hidden it very carefully. Had I not been familiar with the Schema he used, one of Voldemort's most obscure I might add, we might never have found it. It was all the evidence Albus needed to bring him in for questioning yesterday afternoon."

Harry was very still, holding his breath. Releasing it, he whispered, "And--?"

With a moue of distaste, he answered, "Draco proved--resistive--to both straight questioning and Veritaserum. This morning, early, we finally used his own Potion on him." Severus wiped his mouth unconsciously, trying to erase the feeling of Malfoy from it. The gesture was not lost on Harry who, in a rush, understood what had happened to 'interrogate' Draco. He said as much and without thought bent down and using his lips and tongue, laved Severus' mouth, trying to wash the bitter taste from it. When he ended with questioning eyes, Severus felt surprisingly clean again; he smiled his gratitude and suddenly knew it would be all right.

With more confidence, he continued. "I don't know how to put this nicely, so I'll ask your tolerance for a few moments." Harry's chuckle was felt in the side pressing up against him. "Draco did use the potion on you, for months. Over time you resisted him and he had to resort to stronger means of administering the potion until the only way he could get the information Voldemort, and later his father, wanted was to bite." Severus felt Harry shudder against him. 'It's the last bite I'm worried most about,' he thought taking a deep breath. "We also found out he was losing control the longer he used the potion--it caused much of the violence and anger he exhibited, especially near the end." He'd almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Your feelings of being drugged were spot-on. You were being drugged; it was your magic making you feel 'wrong' about the whole thing." He lowered his voice and raised his hands to Harry's face, his fingers trying to comfort him before his next words, "Draco tried to kill you when you ceased to be useful to him; the assault injuries almost did it. He used his saliva to prepare you, didn't he?"

Harry nodded, his face blanching. "Among other things," he whispered.

Severus pulled him down for a lingering kiss, trying to help him through it. Dredging it back up would be hard; at least Harry was no longer trembling--he had to take heart from his quiet. "It was no small wonder you felt woozy that night, he'd turned the potion into poison, which is why you took so long to heal. It's amazing you survived; it was a most insidious formula." He hid his thoughts from his lover. 'And it's still not over. I only hope we can cure you.'

Acting like he suddenly remembered, he took out his wand saying, "Accio Venenum." A brown bottle sailed through the air to land in his waiting hand. He held the bottle in front of Harry. "Recognise it?" he asked, continuing the playful tone.

"How could I not? Remus, Moody, and Poppy had to force it down your throat every time; the Infensus Curatio Potion." He gulped. "You made a new batch? Today?" He knew how long it took to make. If it were possible to feel more guilty than he had a few moments ago, he knew it now.

Severus chuckled, "About the only thing I could think of to keep me from your considerable charms, Mr. Potter."

"Why? Why did you make it?" Harry's confusion was palpable.

"Purely for precautionary reasons. We want to make sure the poison is truly gone." He savagely thought to himself, 'Liar,' but kept his face and voice unaffected. He uncorked the bottle and handed it to him, saying with a perfect Moody accent, "Now drink your drop like a good little boy."

Harry almost choked on his laughter; Severus could hear Moody in his head saying those same words to him every time they'd forced the horribly bitter concoction down his throat. Harry drank it down in one long swallow. "Ech!" he exclaimed, scrunching his eyes half-shut while putting out his tongue. Turning his head and trying not to gag he said, "I can't even ask you what's in it for a distraction. I know every vile ingredient by heart. Eccchhhh."

"Gag that back up and I'll make you swallow it back down, spit and all." However, his words were wasted, the potion was already working.

"Oh, that's--wicked! I feel--ever--so--much--" his voice trailed off, his head lolling on the back of the couch.

Severus sat up, lifted himself off of Harry's lap, and stood. He trailed his fingers down his skin lightly, starting at Harry's cheek and ending on his chest, the breathing steady under his hands. He considered the sleeping face of his lover, something he didn't get to see very often as he usually woke up with him curled around his back. 'So magnificent--I will not lose you to him!' he thought fiercely even as he levitated Harry off the couch and walked him back to their bed chamber.

****

Dumbledore walked out of the fireplace in Severus' and Harry's bed chamber and turned to give a hand to Madame Pomfrey who followed shortly behind. She was carrying a basket with several potions and as she laid them out neatly on the bedside table, they could hear the soft murmurs of conversation from the room next door.

"Do you have everything you need, Poppy?" he asked quietly, half listening to Severus' soft voice.

"I think so. I have an extra dose of the potion he should be giving to Harry about now and a bottle of the restorative Severus will need when he's done. I'm not sure having him Sanos heal Harry is a good idea, Albus. Severus is not a trained healer and although his Sanos abilities and control are quite impressive, he's never tried to heal something of this magnitude before--assuming we can find it in the first place," she murmured.

Dumbledore sighed. "Poppy, we've had this discussion before. For obvious reasons, we cannot call in an outside Healer unless Severus is proven unsuccessful. Given what happened a few years back, I have every confidence he will succeed and the healing will be stronger because he did it--no one would ever mistake his intentions."

She blew a frazzled piece of hair off her forehead and smoothed it back into place. "I know, I know. I'm just worried--we're cutting it awfully fine, you know."

Albus was about to reply when they heard Severus approaching the room. "You're very lucky Dumbledore kept the notes on how you made the potion the last time." He felt Harry's face and arms as soon as he came through the door. He looked up at Albus and Poppy, the worry he'd not allowed himself in the other room showing clear. "His skin is running hot and cold--a good sign--the potion is fighting off the lingering poison and its Dark Magic." Turning back to Harry he said, "You'll never know how close you are to dying. Another fortnight and we would be burying you. I am not enamoured of the idea."

Waiting for him, Dumbledore said, "I don't think any of us are, Severus." He stepped away from the side of the bed while Poppy moved over to help Severus lay the unconscious young man down; they turned him on his side.

"All right then, let's see if we can find it," Severus mumbled as much to himself as to her. Hearing the spell meant to disrobe Harry, Dumbledore turned his back and wandered over to the window, noting the moonlight on the moors. There were some things Headmasters were just not meant to see unless the Medi-Witch and Potions Master, both better suited, needed his help.

Dumbledore winced thinking of the exquisite (and he was quite sure, excruciating) torture Severus had put Draco through to get him to talk. He still didn't know what disturbed him more about the long hours with Draco--the lengths Severus went to get the information or his total lack of remorse for his methods. 'Of course, given Severus' basic goodness, I really shouldn't be doubting him like this. Brutal, though. I'd always suspected Severus would be merciless in his pursuit of vengeance if crossed. I just wish I hadn't been there to confirm it.'

While he never would have thought Severus was prone to unconscionable acts, he knew he could be quite hard when he needed to be so. Severus' innate ruthlessness was made calmer, deadlier when it became apparent, from Draco's taunts, that not only had he enjoyed what he'd done to Harry, the boy was still in grave danger. The lethal stillness in Severus' demeanor, the hard ice in his shuttered eyes at Draco's bragging had been chilling. 'Draco never could keep his mouth shut and his arrogance in thinking he was untouchable was his real downfall. Just like his father.'

When Draco proved he could repeatedly throw off the Veritaserum and the Imperious Curse, Severus had used Draco's own seducing potion against him. After each drugged kiss, each nip of reluctant flesh, he'd wielded the Cruciatus Curse, among others, with the finesse and delicacy of a master surgeon, carving out small, invisible areas of pin-point agony, concentrating on those areas Severus had made sensitive by his consummate employment of Draco's potion.

And all the while, Severus' sultry, dulcet tones murmured sadistic love songs to him. Softly stroking Draco's sweat streaked hair, his pain wracked face, the silky voice told him precisely what he was going to do to him in the gentlest of tones, if he didn't talk, didn't tell him what he wanted to know. And when Draco refused, he did those things, with no pity, implacable in his honesty. It eventually blended into one horrific nightmare as, hour after hour, Severus played Draco relentlessly until he sang.

Finally terrified of his former Potions Master turned Grand Inquisitor, Draco hadn't stood a chance of resisting in the end and Albus had been grateful when he'd finally broken. He had no doubt Severus would have cheerfully taken him apart, bone by bone had it been necessary, to make Draco tell him how he'd planned to kill Harry.

But Severus had given the first dose of the healing potion to the young man before Albus had sent him on his way.

A sharp hiss from Poppy followed by an "Oh gods," from Severus told him they'd found the entry point for the poison. A few moments later, he felt the clean surge of Sanos magic--a deep tone, long sustained and steady. 'A deep injury, then,' he thought, sending his hopes along with his silent support. After an interminable time, when it broke off, he released the breath he was holding.

Turning to finally face them, he saw Harry lying quietly under a duvet, his face very pale. Severus was sitting next to him on the side of the bed, the empty vial of restorative in his hand; his face, if possible, was paler than Harry's. He was stroking Harry's hair, the look of love in his eyes startling in its intensity. He started swaying where he sat and as he fell, Poppy was there, easing him down next to his lover. She removed his boots and in an act of compassion, she joined their hands before stepping away to stand with Dumbledore at the window.

"They'll both sleep--more's the better," she said sagely, sighing. "The wound was horrible, well hidden on the perinaeum, deep, almost sliced clean through with no infection, but healed only on the surface. So near the other as to make no never mind. It's probably why they'd not noticed it; they thought the pain from it was part of the other hurts." She looked back to the bed. "Severus almost wore himself out, but it worked. It was a hard spell, more so because of the age of it."

She chanced a sideways glance at Dumbledore. "Our Severus loves him very much." Not a question, a statement.

"They both love each other very much." He gazed into her sky blue eyes, "Now, let's see if we can keep them alive and together long enough for them to admit it out loud to each other." He laughed quietly, glad Harry was going to be all right.

She chuckled, "I'm not sure I'll live that long, Albus."