Disclaimer: I own none of the names or Characters.
I never check back for reviews so you needent write them, good or bad.
-
-
-
-
Snape sits in a cell in deepest azkaban, surrounded by dementors constantly trying to end a spell they're all sure he cast on the boy. Trying to drain him to madness so he will break this 'spell' - because if they take his soul it may never break. He huddles in a pile of filth, curled in a corner of stone walls lined with grease and dried blood. His hair is a tangled mess, great rats nests dangling from his head, hiding his brown and black face as his head twitches from side to side slightly. He never blinks and his eyes are red raw and blood shot with pain. But that doesn't matter, he never uses them anyway. His internal eyes seeing and reliving his past torments. Seeing Harry screaming at the Aurors to let go of him. To let go of both of them and let them be free to love each other. Silly boy, he can hold onto the fact that Harry loves him only because they will never see each other again and that's the worst tragedy of all. He slumps down low to the ground and his bones seem to drag at him rather then hold him up, all muscles have long ago lost any power they once had. His legs are numb and sore but he cannot give the strength to move them. He is alone.
-
-
-
-
Harry lays tied to a bed in St Mungoes, drooling on himself and mumbling incoherently. Occasionally his mumbles sound like a song, but no one knows what it is he might be singing in his drug imposed half consciousness. He is white as sheets of muggle paper, blue veins showing through. The nurses used to joke that the furniture wasn't white when they brought it, but that anything left there too long would assimilate to the environment. "I swear I've brought colourful things in here a hundred times to brighten it up, but you turn around and WAM! everything's white again". So Harry is like a piece of furniture, full of colour and life once, now drained away in the disinfected room. His hair is still wild because every time the nurses cut it, it grows back. It took Albus Dumbledore himself to restrain the boy, so many months ago. The staff are too scared to stop dosing him until they can be sure he is cured of this horrible love spell. He used to scream at them, declare his love for that monster locked away in azkaban. He used to tell them that he'd loved the monster for over a year, that they didn't tell anyone because of the war. Because they where meant to appear to be on opposite sides. But Harry's friends knew that wasn't true, Harry hated that monster just like everyone else so there was clearly a spell. As soon as they broke it they would have their friend back and he would be so grateful that he wasn't left in the greasy claw like hands of a man who enjoyed RAPING YOUNG BOYS!
-
-
-
-
Every now and then a guard would become enraged and send away the dementors for a while. They would kick and spit at Snapes still form. Scream at him with hatred "Break the spell!". They gave him verisatinum, put him under imperious. Nothing worked. He was a clever old bat though, many of the guards had been his students so they knew just because the potion made him tell other secrets and the curse made him do other ridicules things that didn't mean there was no love spell. The bat was cunning, he was following the orders of their minds when he wanted to, telling truths when they suited him. He was trying to make them think he was innocent. But they wouldn't fall for it. They knew better. Harry Potter would never actually fall in love with Severus Snape.
-
-
-
-
Harry faded more and more, years went by and soon his friends stopped coming. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Hermoine! Harry wouldn't want to see you wasting away!" They knew they where doing the right thing leaving him there. They just couldn't bare to watch it. Watch his arms curl up into his body and his feet curl in. There was only so much potions could do after all, and they couldn't stop drugging him so he could go for a walk. Harry would try to break that evil bat out if they gave him a chance. The call of that horrible love spell. Eventually they would have to give the go ahead and Harry would be left to Rest In Peace. To leave this plane. Then they could give the monster the kiss and be done with it.
-
-
-
-
"hmmmm hn hn hmmmmm. hmmmm hn hn hmmmm. hmmmm hn hn hmmmm." Harry continued to hum every now and then. If anyone had tried hard enough they might notice how close it sounded to the last words he ever spoke.
"Hmmmm hn hn hmmmm."
"There is no spell."
I never check back for reviews so you needent write them, good or bad.
-
-
-
-
Snape sits in a cell in deepest azkaban, surrounded by dementors constantly trying to end a spell they're all sure he cast on the boy. Trying to drain him to madness so he will break this 'spell' - because if they take his soul it may never break. He huddles in a pile of filth, curled in a corner of stone walls lined with grease and dried blood. His hair is a tangled mess, great rats nests dangling from his head, hiding his brown and black face as his head twitches from side to side slightly. He never blinks and his eyes are red raw and blood shot with pain. But that doesn't matter, he never uses them anyway. His internal eyes seeing and reliving his past torments. Seeing Harry screaming at the Aurors to let go of him. To let go of both of them and let them be free to love each other. Silly boy, he can hold onto the fact that Harry loves him only because they will never see each other again and that's the worst tragedy of all. He slumps down low to the ground and his bones seem to drag at him rather then hold him up, all muscles have long ago lost any power they once had. His legs are numb and sore but he cannot give the strength to move them. He is alone.
-
-
-
-
Harry lays tied to a bed in St Mungoes, drooling on himself and mumbling incoherently. Occasionally his mumbles sound like a song, but no one knows what it is he might be singing in his drug imposed half consciousness. He is white as sheets of muggle paper, blue veins showing through. The nurses used to joke that the furniture wasn't white when they brought it, but that anything left there too long would assimilate to the environment. "I swear I've brought colourful things in here a hundred times to brighten it up, but you turn around and WAM! everything's white again". So Harry is like a piece of furniture, full of colour and life once, now drained away in the disinfected room. His hair is still wild because every time the nurses cut it, it grows back. It took Albus Dumbledore himself to restrain the boy, so many months ago. The staff are too scared to stop dosing him until they can be sure he is cured of this horrible love spell. He used to scream at them, declare his love for that monster locked away in azkaban. He used to tell them that he'd loved the monster for over a year, that they didn't tell anyone because of the war. Because they where meant to appear to be on opposite sides. But Harry's friends knew that wasn't true, Harry hated that monster just like everyone else so there was clearly a spell. As soon as they broke it they would have their friend back and he would be so grateful that he wasn't left in the greasy claw like hands of a man who enjoyed RAPING YOUNG BOYS!
-
-
-
-
Every now and then a guard would become enraged and send away the dementors for a while. They would kick and spit at Snapes still form. Scream at him with hatred "Break the spell!". They gave him verisatinum, put him under imperious. Nothing worked. He was a clever old bat though, many of the guards had been his students so they knew just because the potion made him tell other secrets and the curse made him do other ridicules things that didn't mean there was no love spell. The bat was cunning, he was following the orders of their minds when he wanted to, telling truths when they suited him. He was trying to make them think he was innocent. But they wouldn't fall for it. They knew better. Harry Potter would never actually fall in love with Severus Snape.
-
-
-
-
Harry faded more and more, years went by and soon his friends stopped coming. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Hermoine! Harry wouldn't want to see you wasting away!" They knew they where doing the right thing leaving him there. They just couldn't bare to watch it. Watch his arms curl up into his body and his feet curl in. There was only so much potions could do after all, and they couldn't stop drugging him so he could go for a walk. Harry would try to break that evil bat out if they gave him a chance. The call of that horrible love spell. Eventually they would have to give the go ahead and Harry would be left to Rest In Peace. To leave this plane. Then they could give the monster the kiss and be done with it.
-
-
-
-
"hmmmm hn hn hmmmmm. hmmmm hn hn hmmmm. hmmmm hn hn hmmmm." Harry continued to hum every now and then. If anyone had tried hard enough they might notice how close it sounded to the last words he ever spoke.
"Hmmmm hn hn hmmmm."
"There is no spell."