Disclaimer: Okay, honestly, if I owned Harry Potter, would I really be writing this?

Scarlet Pain

Chapter Nine

For the third time that week, Harry knocked nervously at the Potion Master's office door. This time Severus opened the door himself, giving just enough room for Harry to slip by. The young Gryffindor swallowed hard and, keeping his gaze firmly affixed to his Potions professor, stepped hurriedly into the room before backing up to a safe distance. Snape walked over and leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed and looking at Harry as if he was a particularly challenging potion.

"Come here Potter." Harry swallowed again and took a few timid steps forward until he was standing right in front of his professor. The older man's face was completely unreadable, a fact that made Harry even more nervous. The young man twisted his hands together, unable to stop to hide his anxiousness.

"Put your arms out in front of you, wrists up."

"P-Professor?" Harry shivered, eyes widening in confusion.

"Now, Potter." Once again, the tone that brooked no argument. So the young man stretched out his hands to the Potions Master, hands shaking visibly. Snape pushed up Harry's sleeves, causing the young man to start in surprise. He barely heard Severus mutter the anti-glamour spell. No marks that looked self-induced marred Harry's wrists, for which the Potions Master was extremely grateful; one physically self-abusive student was all he thought he could handle at this point. Yet there were other marks that concerned the professor. Scarring from what appeared to be rope burns – possibly left over from the incident of the year before, though not necessarily – wrapped around his wrists and forearms. Then another thought struck him. But how to phrase the question in a way that wouldn't terrify poor Potter?

"I want to see your shoulders as well," Snape swallowed. "Please," his teeth clenched around the word. "Remove your outer robes." Harry paled.

"Why do you need me to – to?" Harry stuttered around his words. "Why do you want to see my shoulders?" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling yet another headache come on.

"Just do it Potter," he growled and noticed when Potter flinched, eyes becoming, if possible, even wider. "Bloody hell Potter, I'm not going to hurt you!" Harry took an involuntary step back at the professor's harsh tone, but slipped his out robes off. Underneath he wore oversized Muggle clothing that he seemed to disappear in. A tattered rope held up pants that looked, even with the makeshift belt, closed to slipping down his slim, almost effeminate frame. The long sleeve shirt hung loosely on his shoulders. Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed, looking away. He didn't even flinch when he felt Severus' hands push the baggy sleeves up to expose his shoulders, though his eyes clenched shut as his entire body stiffened. A quick check showed that they were unmarked. Satisfied, Snape dropped his hands and took a step back. Harry quickly pushed his sleeves down and wrapped his robes protectively around him.

There was a long drawn out silence, uncomfortable and heavily loaded with suspicion.

"Potter, hold out your wrists again." The young man lifted his arms silently. Severus grasped them firmly and tugged Harry forward a couple steps. The Gryffindor froze completely as he found himself almost inches from Potions Master's chest.

"What are you doing Professor?" Harry was beginning to tremble again, and he cursed himself inwardly at his cowardice. For months now it seemed as if his fear was controlling him, not the other way around. And it always seemed to be accompanied by that sick chill that clung to his chest and throat.

The Potions Master was silent, emotions warring inside him. Part of him still felt resentment towards Potter, resentment at his father, and the boy's popularity and arrogance. He had the sudden urge to scare Potter shitless, as revenge for all the torment Potter Sr. had put him through. But when he looked down at the raven-haired wizard, he no longer saw James Potter, nor did he see Lily either. He saw a young man who'd been forced into a position no child should be put in. Yet Harry was a child no longer.

Without a word, Severus pushed Harry's arms behind his back and transferred the boy's wrists into one hand. The young Gryffindor gasped quietly and tried to step back. Finding that he couldn't move away, Harry began to panic. He twisted in Snape's arms, quietly hyperventilating.

"Calm down Potter, I'm not going to hurt you," The Potions Master tried to keep his trademark sarcasm from his voice, though he was only mostly successful.

"Professor please don't – I – why – what are you doing?" He whimpered softly when Severus firmly grabbed Harry's chin with his free hand and forced the young man to look at him. Harry stopped struggling and stared up at his professor.

"Are you afraid of me right now?" Harry swallowed hard.

"Yes." To his chagrin his voice sounded small and scared and childlike. Part of Severus wanted to laugh gleefully. He had after all, made it his goal to instill terror in the hearts of his students; but this, to put lightly, was definitely not the time.

"Do you feel powerless right now?" Harry shivered. Why was Snape asking him these things? What was the Potions Master getting out of this? Yet the question that stood out in his mind, despite his more cynical half that laughed at his idealism and trust was: was it possible that his professor actually cared? The thought confused him. Not only did the Potions Master despise him, however unfair the reason it was still understandable, but there was no reason for him to care about a sniveling coward who couldn't even protect himself against spiteful Muggles. At least, that was Harry's reasoning

"Answer the question Harry." The young man started at the use of his name, though he figured he shouldn't be all that surprised considering the older man had used it the night before. The Gryffindor nodded his head in shame and refused to meet his professor's gaze. "Look at me Harry." The younger man reluctantly looked up into the dark gaze of his professor.

"Do you fear me because you believe I have complete control over you right now?" Harry felt his eyes sting, but he blinked hard, and forced the most obvious sign of weakness away. He would not cry, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the Potions Master.

"Yes," he said brokenly, sounding defeated. Harry slumped in Snape's arms, refusing to make a fool of himself by struggling against the man that was so obviously stronger than him. Severus watched as the young man's eyes glazed over, as if the Gryffindor had given up resisting from whatever horrible fate he expected.

"Harry, look at me!" Snape's harsh voice brought Harry back with a start. "Why do you believe you are powerless right now?" The young man just looked at him in shock and confusion, gazing at the Potions Master as if he's grown a second head.

"Professor?"

"Why do you believe that?"

"I don't understand." Harry panicked slightly. How was he supposed to answer that question? Snape raised an elegant eyebrow. Harry stiffened and twisted his wrists, trying to tug his head free from his professor's firm grip. Severus just tightened his hold. "Does that answer your question Professor?" he said quietly, and once again let himself go limp.

There was another long silence as Severus contemplated how best to go about this. Finally he spoke.

"Do you trust me?" There was that damned question again. Harry struggled inwardly, trying to sort through his feelings. It was very hard to think straight when your body was fighting against fear, and the somewhat startling feeling comfort, trapped as he was in the Potions Master's arms.

"I – I don't know, sir. I think," Harry bit his lip. "Yes I do."

"You don't want to." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Trust is dangerous." Harry's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. But Snape's eyes glittered with something akin to amusement. Now that was surprising.

"True. Would you believe me if I told you you have control right now?" The young Gryffindor looked at him dubiously and didn't answer. "You do," Snape continued.

"How?" Harry's voice cracked a bit.

"You can tell me to let you go." The rave-haired wizard looked at his professor in shock. He realized that yes, he could say no. That wouldn't stop the Professor from doing whatever he wanted though. Saying no hadn't worked yet so far.

"But – " Snape raised his eyebrow again.

"But what?"

"But what I say doesn't matter?" Harry looked up at him confused, at a loss for how to express himself. "What I want – say doesn't have any impact on you."

Snape's eyes darkened in fury. Whoever was responsible for this had really done a number on the young Gryffindor. Severus realized with a sickening feeling in his stomach that more than one person had contributed to this, not least of all himself. cMy god, what have we done? What have I done?

Harry saw his professor grow inexplicably angry and shivered. What had he said? Snape looked down at the wide-eyed wizard trembling in his arms and tried to shove his anger away until a later time.

"Harry, I cannot make promises for everyone outside this room, but I will tell you this. In here, with me, I want you to know that I will never intentionally harm you. I will never repeat what goes on in here to others, and I will not force you to do anything against your will unless it's to keep you from harm. Do you understand?" Harry looked at his professor in shock.

"I – I think so." Severus looked at him pointedly and Harry swallowed.

"Professor, please let me go," Harry stiffened slightly as soon as the near inaudible words escaped his lips, but he needn't have worried. The words were barely out of his mouth before the Potions Master had completely released him and taken a few steps back. Only then did the implications of what had gone on truly hit Harry. He looked up at his professor in shock, trying to ignore the sudden loss he felt as Severus' arms pulled away.

"You let go," he said dumbly.

"Indeed."

"But, I don't understand."

"What is there to not understand Potter? You asked me to let you go and I did."

"But, why?"

"Is it really so hard a concept to grasp?"

"No, I mean," Harry scowled at himself. "Why are you doing this for me? I – you hate me." Severus sighed; it was a fair question, even if it was one that he wasn't sure he could answer.

"I don't hate you. Hate should be reserved for individuals such as the Dark Lord. Find you obnoxious and annoying? Yes, I do find you those things. But in all honesty, even if I wanted to I couldn't hate you. I don't even know you."

"Oh." Harry worried his lower lip. He wanted to tell the professor that he didn't hate him either, hadn't for some time really, but he knew it would only sound like a false platitudes coming from him right now. "Thank you."

TBC