Thank you to all my reviewers! I added a few paragraphs in chapter 1 about
what Dumbledore thinks about Harry and how Sirius joined the 'good side'
because I was told it wasn't extremely clear, so feel free to go back and
read that part.
Sorry for the time I took to update, though :S:S:S:S
Chapter 2:
Harry opened his eyes and blinked a few times, not moving from his place, staring at the ceiling above him, recognizing that he was definitely not in his room at Privet Drive. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and looked around him.
He was still in his pajamas, lying on a wooden floor. He could see that he was in some sort of magical cage, bars of white light forming a delimited area around him.
"Snape?" he immediately called out, trying to get to his feet.
"What?" Severus barked from the other side of the wall of white bars. "Shut up and stay still!"
Harry made a few steps and looked through the bars of light, deciding it was best not to touch them. His potions master was sitting in a chair about four meters away from him, turning a spatula inside a cauldron that was boiling in a stone fireplace. Severus seemed extremely concentrated in what he was doing and completely ignored his hostage that just stared straight at him.
Harry saw that they were both in a very small place. A closet and bed were placed next to the fireside, there was a small kitchen and a closed window to the right and a table with three chairs in the middle of the room. A door on his left leaded to a bathroom and another, on his right, probably went outside. On Harry's side, behind the bars, there was absolutely nothing. Not even a mattress on which he could have slept.
Looking down at his clothes, he noticed that there were strange silver cuffs around his wrists and ankles.
"What is this for?" he asked, pulling the cuffs.
Severus turned around and watched as his prisoner proceeded in a succession of pathetic attempts to get rid of the cuffs.
"Don't waste your time, they won't come off," he finally said, smiling softly.
"What are they for?" Harry repeated curiously as he tugged on the cuffs.
Severus sighed and stared at his prisoner in a disinterested way for a moment.
"You can't run away with those on," he said. "You need to stay not more than ten meters away from me."
"Or what?" Harry growled indifferently. "I'll drop to the floor and grow fur?"
"No," Severus said in an unreasonably calm way. "You'll be begging to be close to me again."
Harry smirked, pacing behind the bars of his prison as he shook his head.
"Some sort of cruciatus curse?" he asked.
Severus smiled evilly.
"Just shut up," he said, turning back to his boiling potion, adding some powdered plants to his mix.
There was a short moment of silence, broken by Harry's sigh.
"You really are pathetic, Snape," Harry finally said, a serious look on his face. "So... going back to the Dark Lord. I hope he kills you before I fight him."
Severus' grip on the spatula tightened but he didn't say anything, trying to concentrate on his work.
"Or better," Harry went on. "Dumbledore shows up."
"Potter, I gave you an order," he hissed. "You better shut up."
"Rot in hell, Snape," Harry growled. "Just give me one chance, and I kill you, understand? I'm not at school anymore. I DON'T obey to you. I might be behind your bars right now but I would have NEVER arrived here if I hadn't let you take me at Privet Drive, so just fuck off."
Severus was literally fuming.
"Potter, you will learn not to mess with me," he hissed, placing the spatula on his chair as he got up, making a few steps away from him. "I am not who you think I am and I know more than you could ever imagine, so I suggest you cut the crap and stop not taking me seriously, because you are right," he went on, still walking away, "We are not at Hogwarts anymore, I am not your teacher, your are not my student, we are in the real world."
He was now at about nine meters from Harry's cage, and still went on. He passed ten meters and stopped at the wall, leaning on it and watching Harry.
The boy who lived yelled in suffering, his nails scratching his skin madly as he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. The blood flowing in his veins was like acid, his breathing was like fire and his heart filled itself with pain beyond pain. His skin was freezing, invisible knives were cutting through his limbs, the air around him felt like magma.
Incredibly enough, he could still hear Severus' voice.
"This is not the cruciatus curse," he was saying. "This spell is known as The Enslaver. Tell me Potter... how does it feel? I was told it was much worst than the cruciatus curse, even though it is much less popular because of its complexity."
It was only at that moment that Harry knew what to do. "You'll be begging to be close to me again," Severus had said. Harry looked up at Severus' face and made a step forwards, pushing himself against the magic bars of his cell.
Another flow of pain ran through him.
He was yelling, screaming to him to get closer, to make it stop, to get rid of the bars so that he could scamper to his feet, but the pain did not end, it lasted forever, and Severus just watched as the Boy Who Lived begged.
Finally, Severus walked forwards when the boy lost consciousness, less than ten minutes later. He pulled out his wand.
"Incarcerate!" he whispered, making the bars of light disappear so he could walk to the boy's unmoving form.
He kneeled to the floor and his fingers passed gently under the young man's chin, lifting his head up. Harry opened his eyes, sighed and stared into the eyes of his captor.
"I think the message sunk in," Severus chipped almost merrily. "So, Harry, hopping that you will no longer underestimate me and that The Enslaver has marked you, we might live in something relatively close to harmony until we reach the Dark Lord."
Unable to speak, Harry just stared into Severus' unblinking eyes until his head was thrown aside, his captor walking away as the bars of bright light reappeared behind him.
But a particular bothersome fact troubled the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Harry?" he whispered in an almost inaudible way. "He called me Harry?"
Severus hadn't even realized that he had called the young man by his first name and was back to his cauldron, eyeing the now crimson liquid with mild satisfaction.
Harry got into an upright position and crawled to the wall on which he leaned, watching his old potion master with unconcerned interest.
He could still feel the pain slowly leaving his body but ignored it in the exact same way Snape was now ignoring his presence. Curiosity was eating him but he did not dare ask the man a few feet in front of him the questions that were on his mind. Why was he so keen of leaving Dumbledore's side? What had pushed him to do it? The simple fact that Voldemort was back to power, terrorizing everyone and killing innocent people? Why had he left in the first place, then? Why was he going back and forth from side to side? What was he scared of? He just seemed like a double-crosser by doing what he did, but where did his loyalty really lie? Did he have any at all? Nothing made sense.
"Why did you hate my father?" he decided to ask, trying to engage a conversation that didn't involve name-calling.
Severus turned around again, head tilted on one side, maybe a bit surprised to hear such a question in a moment like this.
"Why do you hate Draco Malfoy?" he simply said. "It's the same thing. A few differences here and there, but its just that."
"It had to be more seeing how you treated me for seven years," Harry replied.
"Yes, maybe it was," the potions master said. "But nothing I would go blabbing on to you. You should only know that I would have killed him if the Dark Lord hadn't."
"Of course you would have," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
Snape glared at him but returned to his potion without a word.
"Tomorrow we move on," he said after a long moment of silence.
"Yeah. One step closer to your master's doom," the young man grumbled. "And one step closer to yours too."
"We will see," Severus hissed.
Why does Harry want to go back to the Dark Lord? Because he knows he has to fight him one day or another and wants to 'get it over with' (he's a bit disheartened, see). Severus shows up and wants to bring him to him, so he simply didn't fight back.
Sorry for the time I took to update, though :S:S:S:S
Chapter 2:
Harry opened his eyes and blinked a few times, not moving from his place, staring at the ceiling above him, recognizing that he was definitely not in his room at Privet Drive. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and looked around him.
He was still in his pajamas, lying on a wooden floor. He could see that he was in some sort of magical cage, bars of white light forming a delimited area around him.
"Snape?" he immediately called out, trying to get to his feet.
"What?" Severus barked from the other side of the wall of white bars. "Shut up and stay still!"
Harry made a few steps and looked through the bars of light, deciding it was best not to touch them. His potions master was sitting in a chair about four meters away from him, turning a spatula inside a cauldron that was boiling in a stone fireplace. Severus seemed extremely concentrated in what he was doing and completely ignored his hostage that just stared straight at him.
Harry saw that they were both in a very small place. A closet and bed were placed next to the fireside, there was a small kitchen and a closed window to the right and a table with three chairs in the middle of the room. A door on his left leaded to a bathroom and another, on his right, probably went outside. On Harry's side, behind the bars, there was absolutely nothing. Not even a mattress on which he could have slept.
Looking down at his clothes, he noticed that there were strange silver cuffs around his wrists and ankles.
"What is this for?" he asked, pulling the cuffs.
Severus turned around and watched as his prisoner proceeded in a succession of pathetic attempts to get rid of the cuffs.
"Don't waste your time, they won't come off," he finally said, smiling softly.
"What are they for?" Harry repeated curiously as he tugged on the cuffs.
Severus sighed and stared at his prisoner in a disinterested way for a moment.
"You can't run away with those on," he said. "You need to stay not more than ten meters away from me."
"Or what?" Harry growled indifferently. "I'll drop to the floor and grow fur?"
"No," Severus said in an unreasonably calm way. "You'll be begging to be close to me again."
Harry smirked, pacing behind the bars of his prison as he shook his head.
"Some sort of cruciatus curse?" he asked.
Severus smiled evilly.
"Just shut up," he said, turning back to his boiling potion, adding some powdered plants to his mix.
There was a short moment of silence, broken by Harry's sigh.
"You really are pathetic, Snape," Harry finally said, a serious look on his face. "So... going back to the Dark Lord. I hope he kills you before I fight him."
Severus' grip on the spatula tightened but he didn't say anything, trying to concentrate on his work.
"Or better," Harry went on. "Dumbledore shows up."
"Potter, I gave you an order," he hissed. "You better shut up."
"Rot in hell, Snape," Harry growled. "Just give me one chance, and I kill you, understand? I'm not at school anymore. I DON'T obey to you. I might be behind your bars right now but I would have NEVER arrived here if I hadn't let you take me at Privet Drive, so just fuck off."
Severus was literally fuming.
"Potter, you will learn not to mess with me," he hissed, placing the spatula on his chair as he got up, making a few steps away from him. "I am not who you think I am and I know more than you could ever imagine, so I suggest you cut the crap and stop not taking me seriously, because you are right," he went on, still walking away, "We are not at Hogwarts anymore, I am not your teacher, your are not my student, we are in the real world."
He was now at about nine meters from Harry's cage, and still went on. He passed ten meters and stopped at the wall, leaning on it and watching Harry.
The boy who lived yelled in suffering, his nails scratching his skin madly as he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. The blood flowing in his veins was like acid, his breathing was like fire and his heart filled itself with pain beyond pain. His skin was freezing, invisible knives were cutting through his limbs, the air around him felt like magma.
Incredibly enough, he could still hear Severus' voice.
"This is not the cruciatus curse," he was saying. "This spell is known as The Enslaver. Tell me Potter... how does it feel? I was told it was much worst than the cruciatus curse, even though it is much less popular because of its complexity."
It was only at that moment that Harry knew what to do. "You'll be begging to be close to me again," Severus had said. Harry looked up at Severus' face and made a step forwards, pushing himself against the magic bars of his cell.
Another flow of pain ran through him.
He was yelling, screaming to him to get closer, to make it stop, to get rid of the bars so that he could scamper to his feet, but the pain did not end, it lasted forever, and Severus just watched as the Boy Who Lived begged.
Finally, Severus walked forwards when the boy lost consciousness, less than ten minutes later. He pulled out his wand.
"Incarcerate!" he whispered, making the bars of light disappear so he could walk to the boy's unmoving form.
He kneeled to the floor and his fingers passed gently under the young man's chin, lifting his head up. Harry opened his eyes, sighed and stared into the eyes of his captor.
"I think the message sunk in," Severus chipped almost merrily. "So, Harry, hopping that you will no longer underestimate me and that The Enslaver has marked you, we might live in something relatively close to harmony until we reach the Dark Lord."
Unable to speak, Harry just stared into Severus' unblinking eyes until his head was thrown aside, his captor walking away as the bars of bright light reappeared behind him.
But a particular bothersome fact troubled the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Harry?" he whispered in an almost inaudible way. "He called me Harry?"
Severus hadn't even realized that he had called the young man by his first name and was back to his cauldron, eyeing the now crimson liquid with mild satisfaction.
Harry got into an upright position and crawled to the wall on which he leaned, watching his old potion master with unconcerned interest.
He could still feel the pain slowly leaving his body but ignored it in the exact same way Snape was now ignoring his presence. Curiosity was eating him but he did not dare ask the man a few feet in front of him the questions that were on his mind. Why was he so keen of leaving Dumbledore's side? What had pushed him to do it? The simple fact that Voldemort was back to power, terrorizing everyone and killing innocent people? Why had he left in the first place, then? Why was he going back and forth from side to side? What was he scared of? He just seemed like a double-crosser by doing what he did, but where did his loyalty really lie? Did he have any at all? Nothing made sense.
"Why did you hate my father?" he decided to ask, trying to engage a conversation that didn't involve name-calling.
Severus turned around again, head tilted on one side, maybe a bit surprised to hear such a question in a moment like this.
"Why do you hate Draco Malfoy?" he simply said. "It's the same thing. A few differences here and there, but its just that."
"It had to be more seeing how you treated me for seven years," Harry replied.
"Yes, maybe it was," the potions master said. "But nothing I would go blabbing on to you. You should only know that I would have killed him if the Dark Lord hadn't."
"Of course you would have," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
Snape glared at him but returned to his potion without a word.
"Tomorrow we move on," he said after a long moment of silence.
"Yeah. One step closer to your master's doom," the young man grumbled. "And one step closer to yours too."
"We will see," Severus hissed.
Why does Harry want to go back to the Dark Lord? Because he knows he has to fight him one day or another and wants to 'get it over with' (he's a bit disheartened, see). Severus shows up and wants to bring him to him, so he simply didn't fight back.