Thanks to: dead feather, Firestar038, pavonia (you'll see in the next few chapters), NatalieJ, The Little Swimmy Dudette (stuff older, believe in the LOVE!), FroBoy, GwEnDoLyN P. MaLfOy and Queen Weasel.
This is officially entering HP/SS slash. If you don't like, don't touch. And don't flame.
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Chapter 3
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"This is a nice place, Snape, I expected worse." He dropped down onto the plush black sofa.
"This said from someone who has been accommodating Azkaban for the past 14 years." Snape sneered down at him.
"It smells a little musty..." Harry drawled, trying to appear relaxed. It wouldn't do to look as if he was strung like a bow. Everything made him jumpy now, he felt like Moody.
"It smells fine, Potter." The tall man snapped, sitting opposite Harry. "What do you want?" He asked suddenly.
"I've already told you what I want, Professor, the question is, what do you want?" Harry had a plan, if anyone else dared to look it over it wouldn't make much sense, but it did to him. Snape was involved in that plan. He was needed for the plan.
"What does that have to do with anything?" The condescending tone made him remember what it was like before Azkaban.
It was time to lay his cards on the table and leave his dignity and pride behind him. "I need you, Professor, I know you don't need me so I'm willing to give what I've got. I can perform certain... services... if need be. Wouldn't that be nice, Professor? The fallen Golden Boy on his knees in front of you, sucking your-"
He was interrupted by the unnerved Snape. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, this is what you've come to? Whoring yourself?"
Harry stood and stalked over to Snape. He sat next to the man and leant close. "I need you. I don't have much to give. I know that you are attracted to men. I willing to be fucked if that's what you want."
"Mr. Potter, remove your hand from my lap immediately." Snape's clipped tone made him smirk inwardly.
"Anytime," He answered silkily, removing his roaming hand. "Tell me Snape, what have I missed?"
"14 years worth of progress."
"Vague. Who's dead?"
"A herd of your close friends collected you," Snape looked at him. "or attempted to collect you, today, they are lucky to be alive. Three quarters of Slytherin have been lost. Half of Gryffindor. Only handfuls of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The school is very bare." That was shocking. Hogwarts must feel so different than it did when he was here.
"And everyone from when I was at school?" Harry desperately wanted to know this, the war was only beginning when he was 15.
"Many are dead. Percy Weasley is dead, as is Virginia. Thomas, Boot, Higgs, Warrington, Bones, Crabbe, and the Patil sisters to name but a few of the continuing deaths." They were cold hard facts. Harry knew Voldemort needed to die. Not only for his own life. For theirs.
(/)
It was early morning. 2am, if Harry's internal clock was still on target. The bed was too soft. The room was too warm. There was no fear. No discontentment from the outside. No screams. No mutters. He should've been comfortable. But the 29 year old man felt like a child in a stranger's home. There was a fictional cold about this room, he'd created it. His breathing sounded like yells, ringing loudly in his ears. He couldn't close his eyes. It was a waking nightmare.
"Oh fuck." His life was screwed. This is what Azkaban did to you. This was conditioning.
Then his memories, similar to the ones the Dementors provoked, came to front. Especially the newly resurrected feeling of betrayal. How could they do it to him? After Sirius? After everything? What were they thinking?
It registered with him, quite late, that his hair was far too long. And he hadn't actually had the shower he knew he needed. Snape hadn't said anything unsavory, unusual for him, but any dumb beast could see his eyes. They screamed disgust. Hell, he probably had lice. The thought made him itchy.
Harry sat up. It was two in the morning but what the heck?
That was how he ended up in a steaming shower. So hot he felt like his skin was melting off his back, it was how he liked it. It was the thought of being in Snape's shower that made him jerk off, something he hadn't done in over a decade. The relief made him almost boneless. It made Harry laugh aloud to know that if Snape had been awake he would've heard Harry moan his name.
The ragged man faced the mirror, holding a pair of scissors. He hated long hair. Time to get rid of it. As he chopped off the long jet black mop he felt a little less burdened. He couldn't change his eyes from being so gaunt though, they reminded him of Sirius'.
It took half an hour, but his hair was much shorter than it had been even in school and, thankfully, lice free.
He went back to bed at 5am, after a cup of tea and chicken. Divine tastes.
The bed was still too warm, too comfortable and the room was still too quiet, but he felt better and managed to close his eyes and relax until 7.
He wasn't up before Snape. He'd heard Snape get up at 6, fumble around for a while, then settle. Harry got up and found the older man reading a potions book, little surprise there.
"Potter." The greasy-haired man looked up and acknowledged him with a nod. Harry could just see the widening of Snape's black eyes at the sight of his hair.
Harry nodded back. "Morning."
"We have to go to breakfast in less than ten minutes. Are you presentable?"
Harry looked him up and down. "You tell me." He leered.
Snape's mouth tightened. "You look fine. If underfed and insane." He added snarkily.
Harry supposed he deserved it, he was baiting the man.
He took a deep breath. "May as well be early." He walked to the door and took another gasp. His heart was beating faster already. They would be here. Dumbledore probably already knew he was here. It would take all he had not to just walk away. It hurt to see them.
(/)
There were whispers from the moment he walked in. Some louder and more obnoxious than others. Harry picked out the people he knew immediately, all of them at the teacher's table.
Hermione was there. A wince. Remus and to Harry's surprise, Sirius. He carefully avoided their eyes as he walked beside Snape. Hagrid was up there along with Malfoy. Cho Chang. Dumbledore. Neville Longbottom.
So many of the professors were from back then. Only two he didn't recognize.
Harry followed Snape like a dog up to the table and sat beside him, carefully keeping his gaze on his plate, he broke the gaze to glare at a kid who'd got him with a camera. Brat. The whispers did not settle until Dumbledore stood and did a flashy trick along with a few nonsense words and greeted the students for the morning. It annoyed Harry that the old man had stopped the frenzied whispers. Not because he didn't want them to stop, but that he'd needed someone else to do it for him. Especially Dumbledore, a man he wanted nothing to do with.
Sirius kept trying to catch his eye and Harry reminded himself of what he had to do. Make allies. But he still couldn't help himself when he looked his godfather in the eye and just stared. He didn't put any emotion into it at all and hoped the now graying man could figure it out.
"Charity Westinghall." The petite lady next to him held out her hand. He took it, shook it firmly and dropped it as quickly as possible. He hated shaking hands. It made him feel trapped. Harry wondered if it was an Azkaban thing or just a freaky thing.
"Harry Potter."
She grinned at him. "I know, believe me, I've heard so much about you I could tell you what colour your robes were during the Yule Ball in your fourth year."
Harry looked at her incredulously. Why on earth would anyone still know that?
"There are only two members of this staff who did not know you in your school years, including me, do you think your famous, or infamous, reputation has not reigned even while you were shut away?" She talked about it like he'd just been sitting in a house for the past 14 years.
"Who's the other?" He asked, curious about the rather handsome man four seats away.
She saw his interested look and shook her head. "Straight as a board and self-proclaimed womanizer. Jason Brienne."
Perceptive. Harry smiled. "They're never as straight as they seem."
Her glittering laugh made his mood lighter. "I'd love to see you try."
"I'm stuck on someone else." He murmured.
Charity tapped the table. "I know."
Harry just shook his head. Crazy woman.
All the table had enough restraint to not leap out of their seats during breakfast, but Harry could see they wanted to, looks were sent his way constantly, their food was evidently not as interesting as he was. He was thankful they waited until he tried to get up and leave, only a few students remained in the hall.
"Harry," Hermione said as he stood up. "We're sorry."
Every time he heard the word it made his hair stand up and skin prickle. It was like such a small word could heal all wounds. It did nothing but serve to make the wounds deeper, it was the salt.
He just kept walking. He heard Hermione sit down, and someone else stand up. "Can I talk to you, Harry?" It was Sirius. His godfather, who looked so tired and different.
Harry looked back for a second and nodded his head at the left door. He left out that door and leant against the wall after he closed it. It was dark here, this corridor just made a circle back to another, it had no specific purpose but to make the Great Hall symmetrical. It was dark in here. It was more comfortable.
"We fucked up, I know Harry, I know you can never forgive us. I'm not going to say I'm sorry because Remus said it to me a million times and I hated it. I'm just going to say that I was so fucking wrong I don't deserve to lick dirt off your shoes. I just want to try to get to know you and help you in any way I can."
It was almost a sign, a sign Harry could get the specific army he needed. "I don't want you licking the dirt off my shoes. You're right, I can't forgive you. But you can help me."
The nod was almost pathetic and made Harry cringe. This was his godfather for Merlin's sake!
"I'll talk to you another time." He couldn't stand it any more. Even two minutes was too much.
He brushed past the older man and strolled further into the dark hall, there was a certain amount of assurance to be offered by the black.
He wondered if he could bring himself to love any of those who had betrayed him. But then he couldn't love anyone any more, he wasn't sure he was even capable. To love you needed a heart. And a soul. He'd misplaced both a while back.
(/)
End of chapter 3
Yes, I finally updated. Sorry about my chronic laziness. And about the shortness.
This is officially entering HP/SS slash. If you don't like, don't touch. And don't flame.
(/)
Chapter 3
(/)
"This is a nice place, Snape, I expected worse." He dropped down onto the plush black sofa.
"This said from someone who has been accommodating Azkaban for the past 14 years." Snape sneered down at him.
"It smells a little musty..." Harry drawled, trying to appear relaxed. It wouldn't do to look as if he was strung like a bow. Everything made him jumpy now, he felt like Moody.
"It smells fine, Potter." The tall man snapped, sitting opposite Harry. "What do you want?" He asked suddenly.
"I've already told you what I want, Professor, the question is, what do you want?" Harry had a plan, if anyone else dared to look it over it wouldn't make much sense, but it did to him. Snape was involved in that plan. He was needed for the plan.
"What does that have to do with anything?" The condescending tone made him remember what it was like before Azkaban.
It was time to lay his cards on the table and leave his dignity and pride behind him. "I need you, Professor, I know you don't need me so I'm willing to give what I've got. I can perform certain... services... if need be. Wouldn't that be nice, Professor? The fallen Golden Boy on his knees in front of you, sucking your-"
He was interrupted by the unnerved Snape. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, this is what you've come to? Whoring yourself?"
Harry stood and stalked over to Snape. He sat next to the man and leant close. "I need you. I don't have much to give. I know that you are attracted to men. I willing to be fucked if that's what you want."
"Mr. Potter, remove your hand from my lap immediately." Snape's clipped tone made him smirk inwardly.
"Anytime," He answered silkily, removing his roaming hand. "Tell me Snape, what have I missed?"
"14 years worth of progress."
"Vague. Who's dead?"
"A herd of your close friends collected you," Snape looked at him. "or attempted to collect you, today, they are lucky to be alive. Three quarters of Slytherin have been lost. Half of Gryffindor. Only handfuls of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The school is very bare." That was shocking. Hogwarts must feel so different than it did when he was here.
"And everyone from when I was at school?" Harry desperately wanted to know this, the war was only beginning when he was 15.
"Many are dead. Percy Weasley is dead, as is Virginia. Thomas, Boot, Higgs, Warrington, Bones, Crabbe, and the Patil sisters to name but a few of the continuing deaths." They were cold hard facts. Harry knew Voldemort needed to die. Not only for his own life. For theirs.
(/)
It was early morning. 2am, if Harry's internal clock was still on target. The bed was too soft. The room was too warm. There was no fear. No discontentment from the outside. No screams. No mutters. He should've been comfortable. But the 29 year old man felt like a child in a stranger's home. There was a fictional cold about this room, he'd created it. His breathing sounded like yells, ringing loudly in his ears. He couldn't close his eyes. It was a waking nightmare.
"Oh fuck." His life was screwed. This is what Azkaban did to you. This was conditioning.
Then his memories, similar to the ones the Dementors provoked, came to front. Especially the newly resurrected feeling of betrayal. How could they do it to him? After Sirius? After everything? What were they thinking?
It registered with him, quite late, that his hair was far too long. And he hadn't actually had the shower he knew he needed. Snape hadn't said anything unsavory, unusual for him, but any dumb beast could see his eyes. They screamed disgust. Hell, he probably had lice. The thought made him itchy.
Harry sat up. It was two in the morning but what the heck?
That was how he ended up in a steaming shower. So hot he felt like his skin was melting off his back, it was how he liked it. It was the thought of being in Snape's shower that made him jerk off, something he hadn't done in over a decade. The relief made him almost boneless. It made Harry laugh aloud to know that if Snape had been awake he would've heard Harry moan his name.
The ragged man faced the mirror, holding a pair of scissors. He hated long hair. Time to get rid of it. As he chopped off the long jet black mop he felt a little less burdened. He couldn't change his eyes from being so gaunt though, they reminded him of Sirius'.
It took half an hour, but his hair was much shorter than it had been even in school and, thankfully, lice free.
He went back to bed at 5am, after a cup of tea and chicken. Divine tastes.
The bed was still too warm, too comfortable and the room was still too quiet, but he felt better and managed to close his eyes and relax until 7.
He wasn't up before Snape. He'd heard Snape get up at 6, fumble around for a while, then settle. Harry got up and found the older man reading a potions book, little surprise there.
"Potter." The greasy-haired man looked up and acknowledged him with a nod. Harry could just see the widening of Snape's black eyes at the sight of his hair.
Harry nodded back. "Morning."
"We have to go to breakfast in less than ten minutes. Are you presentable?"
Harry looked him up and down. "You tell me." He leered.
Snape's mouth tightened. "You look fine. If underfed and insane." He added snarkily.
Harry supposed he deserved it, he was baiting the man.
He took a deep breath. "May as well be early." He walked to the door and took another gasp. His heart was beating faster already. They would be here. Dumbledore probably already knew he was here. It would take all he had not to just walk away. It hurt to see them.
(/)
There were whispers from the moment he walked in. Some louder and more obnoxious than others. Harry picked out the people he knew immediately, all of them at the teacher's table.
Hermione was there. A wince. Remus and to Harry's surprise, Sirius. He carefully avoided their eyes as he walked beside Snape. Hagrid was up there along with Malfoy. Cho Chang. Dumbledore. Neville Longbottom.
So many of the professors were from back then. Only two he didn't recognize.
Harry followed Snape like a dog up to the table and sat beside him, carefully keeping his gaze on his plate, he broke the gaze to glare at a kid who'd got him with a camera. Brat. The whispers did not settle until Dumbledore stood and did a flashy trick along with a few nonsense words and greeted the students for the morning. It annoyed Harry that the old man had stopped the frenzied whispers. Not because he didn't want them to stop, but that he'd needed someone else to do it for him. Especially Dumbledore, a man he wanted nothing to do with.
Sirius kept trying to catch his eye and Harry reminded himself of what he had to do. Make allies. But he still couldn't help himself when he looked his godfather in the eye and just stared. He didn't put any emotion into it at all and hoped the now graying man could figure it out.
"Charity Westinghall." The petite lady next to him held out her hand. He took it, shook it firmly and dropped it as quickly as possible. He hated shaking hands. It made him feel trapped. Harry wondered if it was an Azkaban thing or just a freaky thing.
"Harry Potter."
She grinned at him. "I know, believe me, I've heard so much about you I could tell you what colour your robes were during the Yule Ball in your fourth year."
Harry looked at her incredulously. Why on earth would anyone still know that?
"There are only two members of this staff who did not know you in your school years, including me, do you think your famous, or infamous, reputation has not reigned even while you were shut away?" She talked about it like he'd just been sitting in a house for the past 14 years.
"Who's the other?" He asked, curious about the rather handsome man four seats away.
She saw his interested look and shook her head. "Straight as a board and self-proclaimed womanizer. Jason Brienne."
Perceptive. Harry smiled. "They're never as straight as they seem."
Her glittering laugh made his mood lighter. "I'd love to see you try."
"I'm stuck on someone else." He murmured.
Charity tapped the table. "I know."
Harry just shook his head. Crazy woman.
All the table had enough restraint to not leap out of their seats during breakfast, but Harry could see they wanted to, looks were sent his way constantly, their food was evidently not as interesting as he was. He was thankful they waited until he tried to get up and leave, only a few students remained in the hall.
"Harry," Hermione said as he stood up. "We're sorry."
Every time he heard the word it made his hair stand up and skin prickle. It was like such a small word could heal all wounds. It did nothing but serve to make the wounds deeper, it was the salt.
He just kept walking. He heard Hermione sit down, and someone else stand up. "Can I talk to you, Harry?" It was Sirius. His godfather, who looked so tired and different.
Harry looked back for a second and nodded his head at the left door. He left out that door and leant against the wall after he closed it. It was dark here, this corridor just made a circle back to another, it had no specific purpose but to make the Great Hall symmetrical. It was dark in here. It was more comfortable.
"We fucked up, I know Harry, I know you can never forgive us. I'm not going to say I'm sorry because Remus said it to me a million times and I hated it. I'm just going to say that I was so fucking wrong I don't deserve to lick dirt off your shoes. I just want to try to get to know you and help you in any way I can."
It was almost a sign, a sign Harry could get the specific army he needed. "I don't want you licking the dirt off my shoes. You're right, I can't forgive you. But you can help me."
The nod was almost pathetic and made Harry cringe. This was his godfather for Merlin's sake!
"I'll talk to you another time." He couldn't stand it any more. Even two minutes was too much.
He brushed past the older man and strolled further into the dark hall, there was a certain amount of assurance to be offered by the black.
He wondered if he could bring himself to love any of those who had betrayed him. But then he couldn't love anyone any more, he wasn't sure he was even capable. To love you needed a heart. And a soul. He'd misplaced both a while back.
(/)
End of chapter 3
Yes, I finally updated. Sorry about my chronic laziness. And about the shortness.