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Recreant
Chapter 3
By Robbly



Harry's eyes were red. Streaked with little red lines portraying an anxiety exceeding any amount that one could see portrayed through his face. Itself his face was the epitome of misery.

Harry lay still on the stone floor; he was in too much pain to move. He was paying dearly for Ron's visit. When both Ron and Snape had left Harry had cried himself into oblivion where he had resided for the past 4 hours before he had woken up through another of his memories.

His occulumency talents that had developed during his stay as a death eater were suppressed by the complete opening of his mind through the dementors. They just barged their way into your mind and then as soon as all those depressing, heart killing, guilt filled memories flooded you, you tend to feel nothing else. Your defences drop and your mind just stays open. Harry had blocked off all the memories. He had sectioned off half of his mind. Then with his being chucked into Azkaban, his mind was opened. All too roughly opened. Being flooded with memories that you have refused to remember is a very 'interesting' experience. Though they forced you to relive your memories, the actual experience is always infinitely more painful. The all too familiar tang of betrayal actually relived was just so much infinitely worse then the day to day monotony of remembrance. Reliving an experience in your head is no where close the equal of an experience. Ron brought it all back. The taste of the betrayal from his friends never ever faded. A re experience was just so painful. Tears all shed out of him, no more left to emit, feelings coursed their way through his body, pain, immense total pain, emotional pain. On a level, he couldn't feel it. Didn't want to feel it. The sheer enormity of it was just too much to feel. But the dementors forced him to feel it. And the oppression of it crushed his pitiful soul. There was only so much that one being can feel though. A little memory flittered through his head.

"One person can't feel all that, they'd explode."

Ron had said once

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have."

Hermione had retorted

However Harry did not have 'the emotional range of a teaspoon' and this memory just sent more & more emotional pain to the rather large load he was carrying. He almost smiled at the irony. Most people came to Azkaban or came into the presence of a dementor and forgot half of their memories, the ones that didn't hurt, the ones that they remembered with happiness and joy. Then again, most of them hadn't felt the bitter suffering of betrayal, where every happy memory became cutting and detrimental to ones happiness.

Harry tried to roll over and a burning pain shot up his side. His mind found its way back to the physical agony that gripped his every molecule. Hurt throbbed its way through his body. It thrummed from his head ripping its way through his veins. His entire body ached not least of all from hunger. Hunger was one of the worst pains of all. It ripped its way from your gut, and little visions of food danced like mirages in front of you at the worst moments. It wasn't that the prisoners weren't fed, but Harry had still been growing when he arrived at Azkaban & he had been starved before he even reached the depraved cell in which he resided. Also half the time Harry was in no condition to retrieve the shit he was given. Most of all he was a prisoner, and like prisoners deserve the best of cuisine. They were lucky to receive slops. However Harry's head was his most felt anguish entertaining his torture-filled world at the moment and though the bleeding from his most prominent cut had stopped, he felt very woozy from loss of blood.

He was too busy concentrating on the anguish of his emotional, mental and physical state to notice Severus Snape walking up to the bars of his cell. Resonant pounding originating from his head was echoing through his ears anyway. The ex-potions professor cleared his throat.

The delicate noise brought Harry off the brink of sliding into an emotional abyss where the only thing that mattered was a way to end the pain. In other words, Harry was inches away from walking the paved road to insanity in the hell of Azkaban.

Harry looked up through bleary eyes.

The man who loathed him stared back, and any other person would have jumped from the sheer amount of pure pain emanating from the child's face. Snape called the person before him a child. He had once called him an adult, as he concurred that Harry had been responsible for his actions, testifying to the young mans guilt, but now, the broken thing in front of him had the emotional and almost physical state of a child. He was so small so shrunken and his emotions were so simple, so blatantly clear that they could only be called childlike. His verbal outbursts only contributed to the outward appearance. In fact the only thing that made Harry not as childlike as he seemed was the different types of pain he beared. His thought complexity regarding the pain he carried could only be called that of an adult, in fact surpassing that of an adult. Snape was stuck at indecision. The same argument that had racked his mind ever since the boy had joined Voldermort. He should look into the boy's mind. Vital information may be there. He almost snorted at his own stupidity; his reasoning seemed hollow even in his own mind. It was pure curiosity. The potions master was so tempted by the knowledge that sat so close in front of him. An understanding of the boy he hated sat right there so easy to take. Snape checked the wards on the bars, all too easy to disable. He disabled them and froze for a moment. He shouldn't do it. His revenge had been taken on the boy already, 6 years in Azkaban was more than enough punishment for anything. Also the dementors kiss in 3 days was more than Snape could ever have asked. His wand was pointing at the pitiful figure less than 2 meters away. He could resist no longer. Snape whispered the words.

"Legimens"

Snape physically stumbled at the onslaught. A huge bundle of memories literally threw themselves at his mind. How could Potter carry all this Snape wondered? He saw memories of Harry's time at Hogwarts, he saw what anybody else would count as happy memories, and tasted the assault of betrayal upon his senses. He saw memories of what people had given up for the small boy and then the self disgust at what Harry felt he had done to them in return. He saw once again the pain of the death of Harry's godfather and the guilt and responsibility the stupid boy felt for it. He saw the look of betrayal in the eyes of the last mauderer, Remus Lupin, at Harry's trial. Then he saw the hatred and blame erupting from the others. From those whom Harry cared for and loved; Ron, Hermione, Remus, Dumbledore, many of the Weasleys, Hagrid, Minerva, and last of all Himself. Harry was upset over his disbelief in the boy's innocence? More memories filled with emotional turmoil flooded Snape's senses but the last one that made Snape stop his spell shocked Snape the most.

Harry was at Voldermort's feet. He was kneeling. 7 death eaters stood at his back. Snape recognised them as Voldermort's inner circle minus himself.

Snape cringed. They were Voldermort's strongest and most powerful followers. The looks on their faces could not mean good things for the boy.

Harry was panting. The wretched recourses of the cruciatus curse were retching through his throat. A determination was in his mind though. He would not give in. A chuckle came from the dark lord in front of him.

"I sense you are undecided Potter. You want to give in to me but you do not. You know you must."

"I do not want to give in to you Tom!"

The Gryffindor heritage showed itself. Snape almost snorted.

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in anger.

"I told you not to call me by that name Potter! Crucio."

Snape watched Potter relive the curse. Mentally he cringed. The boy was so young.

"Astrangularus"

A small blue jolt of something that looked vaguely like lightning shot out of the tip of Voldermort's wand and hit him and instantly he was struggling for air. His lungs felt entirely empty and it he thrashed on the floor. Ironically the vague thought he must look like a dying fish crossed his mind. Coupled with the agony of crucio it felt like dying. White hot metal flooded his veins, knives drove themselves through his skin, his body was being sucked inside out as the air was absorbed from him like a vacuum, his eyes felt like they were being sucked into their sockets and black was appearing at the edges of his vision, his skin felt like it was being flayed off, his nostrils flared seeking much needed oxygen, the wanted end was close, he saw death but a few centimetres away and reached pathetically towards it, his nostrils flared, his organs were burning, his brain was in a vice, he was being squeezed, stretched, pain, pain, pain…

"Finite Incantatum"

A chuckle was the first thing Harry heard as he sucked huge amounts of lungs at a painful rate. It burned the entire way down and his throat and lungs spasmed painfully. Shudders wracked his body from the pain. His limbs ached, he felt super cool inside, pain continued.

Snape frowned; Harry was supposedly a willing servant to he-who-must-not-be-named. This punishment was something the Dark Lord had never done to him. The slight empathy the legiments spell allowed him made Snape very thankful he hadn't.

"Potter. I see you need more 'motivation'. Your love,"

He spat out the word like it was the most evil thing in the world.

"that your stupid fool Dumbledore prizes will not let you refuse me. I will save him as a part of my half of the bond. Watch."

Harry still lying on the floor froze as the Dark Lord waved his wand and flash of white light shot at the boy. Harry immediately took on the personification of somebody else.

Harry saw through other eyes.

He was kneeling. Kneeling before Voldermort in the Riddle House, in the same room he had killed that muggle, the same room of Harry's vision…

Snape froze. The surroundings were all too familiar. He stiffened further as he remembered. It was the night he had been declared a traitor. The night Voldermort had left him to the whims of his servants, then had taken Severus himself. Snape stiffened further.

"No" he whispered, choking out the word.

The body Harry inhabited looked up; Voldermort was standing gesturing to his followers, declaring that Severus Snape was a traitor. Snape saw Harry freeze. No he was telling himself, No, Voldermort could not know Snape was a traitor, he would kill him. No Harry was in something akin to panic.

Snape couldn't bare it. His eyes were tightly shut, tears seeped out. Suddenly he felt something like a door slam shut on his invading mind. His mind rejoiced at the freedom, taking in huge gulps of oxygen as he leant onto the wall, berating himself for not ending the spell. Had he the sense he would have ended the spell just as the memory started. He couldn't live through the boy's panic, he reasoned but realised again the hollowness behind his own excuse. It was nothing to do with the boy, he himself was too weak. He couldn't relive his own worst torture. He couldn't relive what Voldermort had let his fellow death eater's do to him. He recognised the spell and almost vomited as he realised that Harry would have the physical remnants of his own torture. He himself froze as he realised the boy had felt the pain and humiliation of repeated non-consentual sodomy along with the many other horrors that had been committed against his pale flesh. He realised the boy had felt the brink of insanity, the pain that he himself had to bear. He realised that Harry had probably relived it many times during his stay. Snape was stunned, had he been anyone else he would have stood gaping but his spy created mask stayed over his features.

Then the most staggering thought hit him and his mask was discarded;

Harry had joined Voldermort to save him.




Authors note: Thanks to my reviewers;

Lanfear1, Why did he do it? Well as you can see that what's coming up, enjoy.
Gilthas, (the muse, & me =D ), Good guessing, well you were kinda sorta right, not really.. Oh well, as you keep reading you'll understand. Am I your best friend? Come on I am aren't I! Please Please! Nah only kidding. Wouldn't want your muse to kill you, or abandon you for that matter. Yeah Ron was mean but Ginny's death kinda hurt him hard so did Hermione's injury and Harry 'betraying' him. So Ron's just kinda retaliating for his pain and the dementors were sending him memories of his most unhappy moments (most likely Harry's betrayal and Ginny's death). So I guess it was kinda justified but Ron did go a bit mad for the time. Your mum was murdered by a dragon? That I have got to hear, tell met the background!
Whoa, Was he forced to do it? Hmm… I won't spoil the surprise but will come up with the most annoying answer all authors give for plot spoiler questions. 'You'll have to wait and see'.
& Sarah, Will do. =)

The quote is from OotP p406. One of my personal favourites.

The spell "Astrangulus" comes from my Latin dictionary telling me Astrangulare = choke. Dunno. Don't kill me. I don't learn Latin, I learn Ancient Greek :D. I know I know, it's a dead language that no one speaks. SHUDDUP! :P

Thanks again to anybody else who is reading but not reviewing. Don't feel pressured to review yada…yada… Um yeah… Email me with any comments or questions: robblywoo@hotmail.com.