Thresh
- Vain
06.24.2004
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Standard Disclaimer:
I own nothing except the plot. Harry Potter and all the elements therein are the intellectual property / registered trademarks of JK Rowling, Scholastic Books, and Warner Brothers. All the quotes preceding the chapters come from Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. If you have not read it, take the time and do so. It is an . . . experience.
Summary: SS/HP slash. Voldemort can give Severus the one thing Dumbledore will not: an opportunity. What's a Slytherin to do?
Warnings: SS/HP slash, disturbing themes, underaged-ness, violence, mature content, dubious consent, abuse of power over a minor, somnophilia, bondage, improper use of Potions, and some dubious psychological torture.
Rated: R - this is the EDITED version; links to the NC-17 version can be found at my profile.
Notes: Takes place in the middle of Sixth Year.
Snape is not a warm, fluffy, insipid sap in this: he is a nasty, sadistic, greasy, arrogant, ego-centric wanker. Welcome to the land of IC.
This is absolutely, 100 un-related to any of my other fics.
To facilitate updates, these chapters will be shorter than the chapters in some of my other fics.
This story was originally launched under my secondary pen name, "Hanakai." For convenience's sake, I have decided to streamline my fics under my original pen name, Vain. SAME AUTHOR. SAME STORY. DIFFERENT NAME. As a fic is re-uploaded under my Vain pen name, I will delete it from my Hanakai profile. Eventually, Hanakai will be deleted entirely, so please update your faves and bookmarks to reflect this.
Thank you for all your previous reviews—I saved them all—and I hope you all review again. I'm greedy.
For progress notes on the pen name transition or if you have any questions, please see my Livejournal (linked both my profiles). I hope this doesn't inconvenience anyone & thank you for your patience.
Special Thanks to my betas Apapazukamori and E.E.S. snugs V
UTERRLY A GIFT with much love to EVELIA who draws me pretty pictures.
Plagiarism is no one's friend.
Enjoy!
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Chapter One:
Poor Boys and Pilgrims
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" 'When do you mean to arrest me?'
'Well, I can let you walk about another day or two. Think it over, my dear fellow, and pray to God. It's more in your interest, believe me.'
'And what if I run away?' asked Raskolnikov with a strange smile.
'No, you won't run away. A peasant would run away, a fashionable dissenter would run away, the flunkey of another man's thought, for you've only to show him the end of your little finger and he'll be ready to believe in anything for the rest of his life. But you've ceased to believe in your theory already, what will you run away with? And what would you do in hiding? It would be hateful and difficult for you, and what you need more than anything in life is a definite position, an atmosphere to suit you. And what sort of atmosphere would you have? If you ran away, you'd come back to yourself. You can't get on without us. And if I put you in prisonsay you've been there a month, or two, or threeremember my word, you'll confess of yourself and perhaps to your own surprise. You won't know an hour beforehand that you are coming with a confession. I am convinced that you will decide, "to take your suffering." You don't believe my words now, but you'll come to it of yourself. For suffering, Rodion Romanovitch, is a great thing. Never mind my having grown fat, I know all the same. Don't laugh at it, there's an idea in suffering, Nokolay is right. No, you won't run away, Rodion Romanovitch.' "
You can't get on without us.Fyodor Dostoevsky
Crime and Punishment
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Mandrake, vervain, ambergris, orange skin, tobacco, briony, fern seed, dragon blood, catharides, rose stems, dove heart, phoenix eyes, and betel nuts.
So little time.
Shed skin, semen, blood, and hair—short, crisp and dark.
A visit to Pomfrey's stores, a word to one or two to one of the more timid House Elves, even a fruitful evening in the laundry room . . . all far too easy. How very careless of them. Harry Potter, it seems, is a fairly easy individual to get at, if one knows how to go about such things. I take everything I need. I take more—just in case.
Avocados to hide the taste. Soups and cakes and even candies. Memory and desire distilled into scentless liquid drops.
All it takes is patience.
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"Fiddle! Fetch! Flicker! Present yourselves!"The voice thundered through the somber foyer, sending shadows fleeing. One of the portraits on the wall, a bitter-looking man wearing a ruffled conquistador-esque collar and with a pointed goatee and mustaches, jerked awake sharply. He blinked at the newcomers, then rolled his eyes and went back to sleep with nary a whimper.
Harry Potter held his overnight bag in front of him and rocked back on his heels, looking unintentionally shy. Behind him, Snape closed the heavy double doors with a loud boom. There came the sound of several locks clicking and the boy shifted uncomfortably for a moment, using the ratty tip of one battered trainer to scratch at the back of his knee. Then the Potions Master came striding up to stand beside the Gryffindor.
This isn't real, the youth told himself, unable to reconcile the relatively happy life he'd led this morning with the reality of standing in the foyer of Snape Hall. This is all a dream.
Black eyes stared down into vivid green ones for a moment before Potter looked away, still looking decidedly unhappy.
This is a dream.
The Professor's gaze did not shift. "I do not enjoy this situation anymore than you do, Mr. Potter, but for now we will have to make do. The Headmaster's instructions were clear: as long as Hogwarts is endangered by the Dark Lord, you are to remain inside Snape Hall. That means no owls, no fire, no Quidditch, no muggle" (he made the word 'muggle' sound vulgar), "means of communication. You were told to stay put, and you will stay put. Do you understand, Mr. Potter?"
The boy's eyes hardened belligerently. "I should be fighting with the others, not hiding in some hole. I have to go back."
"You will do no such thing, Potter! You are under my protection, and while you may take that lightly, I do not. This 'hole,' as you so quaintly call it, is my home, and you are a guest. You will conduct yourself accordingly." The tall man loomed over the boy, invading his personal space and forcing him a step back as he leaned down. He bent until his rather considerable nose was almost brushing Harry's. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper and Harry shuddered as warm, mint-scented breath puffed over his mouth and cheeks. "Remember, Potter: your precious fan club is not here to save you, and I am not as lenient as our esteemed Headmaster. Now, for the last time: do you understand?"
The Gryffindor swallowed hard and his eyes glittered like emeralds left in the snow. "Yes, sir."
Snape recoiled so rapidly Harry was left blinking in befuddlement. The man smiled—a viper-like expression. "Good boy."
"The Master is calling us?" a voice squeaked.
Harry started, dropping his overnight bag, and Snape sneered at his charge. A long fingered, potions stained hand reached out, grabbed the crown of the Gryffindor's head, and forced the boy to turn to face the speaker. Though he wasn't pulling the youth's hair, the grip that the man had on Harry's head was painful where those long, fine fingers pressed hard against his skull. Three identical House Elves stood before them, each in black and turquoise livery, and each dropped into a low bow.
"Potter, meet Fiddle, Fetch, and Flicker." Snape tilted the boy's head a bit as he said each name, forcibly directing his gaze towards each of the Elves in turn. "Elves, this," here he gave Harry's head a little shake, "is Harry Potter. He will be staying at Snape Hall for a bit. You are to obey him as per my instructions. No more, no less."
Harry tried to pull away from his professor, but the man's hand held him tight. The Elves all dropped another bow to him, but made no other reaction to his name.
"Flicker—" Snape turned Harry's head back to the indistinguishable Elf on the far right, "will be your manservant, Potter. He will be with you at all times. He will be with you when you eat. He will watch over you as you sleep. He will be with you as you bathe, urinate, read, masturbate, and do whatever else it is that vapid, feckless, arrogant, impertinent, empty-headed Gryffindor children do. From this moment until I relieve him, the only person he will answer to above you is me. And neither of you are ever to disobey me so long as you are in these walls. Understand, Potter? Or shall I explain it again using smaller words?"
Harry, his face flaming with humiliation—and horror that he had actually heard Snape say 'masturbate'—squeaked out something that could have been an affirmative and tried to jerk away from the feel of Snape's hot palm pressed against the top of his head.
"Fiddle," Snape enunciated as he forced Harry's head to the Elf on the far left, "is my manservant. If you cannot find me, call for him. You will obey Fiddle as you would obey me. In the event that you do not obey Fiddle, you will be punished. In the event that you do not obey me, you will be punished. Fiddle, Fetch, and Flicker are all authorized to punish you in my absence. Fetch—" the middle Elf "—is the Head Steward. He runs the household. If you need something and you cannot find me, or Fiddle, or Flicker, you are to find Fetch. You will obey Fetch as you would obey me or Fiddle. In the event that you do not obey Fetch, you will be punished. Do you understand? And try to respond in a semblance of language this time."
The sound that squeaked out of Harry sounded nothing even remotely like his voice, or a language, but Snape seemed satisfied nonetheless and released his hold on the Gryffindor. Harry staggered away from the older man so quickly that he tripped over his bag and fell flat on his face.
Snape sneered down at him in contempt. "Stupid boy."
The Elves watched in silence.
The Potions Master looked away, apparently bored with watching Harry make a royal arse of himself for the day, and turned his black-eyed gaze to Flicker. "Help your Master," he barked harshly, inciting the Elf to spring to the boy's side. The sneer widened. "You are to show Master Potter to the White Room. The suite will be his—"
"The White Room?" the Elf squeaked, stunned to interruption. His eyes were round as saucers. "But the White Room is for Master's—"
Snape's eyes seemed to spew venom and Flicker wilted instantly, cringing behind Harry.
"I am well aware of what the White Room is for!" the Potions Master snarled. "And you are to take your new Master there with no further discussion. It is to be his for the duration of his stay. He is not to leave there until dinner. The second, third, and fourth floors of the South Wing, and all the rooms therein are off limits. My Potions Lab is off limits. The Ballroom and the North Turret Drawing Room are off limits. My chambers are off limits."
"Yes, Master Snape," Flicker squeaked with another bow. A rough, leather-like hand gripped Harry gently by the wrist and tugged the boy out of the foyer, towards the master staircase. "Come, Master Potter. The White Room is in the West Turret, sir. We is having a long way to go, sir."
The boy twisted, though whether he wanted his bag, or merely wished to escape the Elf was anyone's guess. Flicker, however, had other ideas and—despite his petit stature—easily kept a vice-like grip on his charge.
"Come, Master Potter, we is going now!" the little creature squeaked, dragging Harry to the stairs.
"But, my bag—"
"It is coming along shortly. Come, Little Master! Master Snape is ordering us gone and we is obeying the Master!"
There was an implied 'whether you like it or not' in the Elf's tone that forced Harry to relent and allow himself to be dragged up the long sweeping staircase by his new manservant. As he looked back he caught sight of his host, greasy head turned to the two remaining Elves as he barked out order after imperious order. Harry could pick up on his name, but little else.
Greasy old bat's probably telling them not to let me out of their sight. Nasty, sadistic wank—
Flicker, as though sensing Harry's uncharitable thoughts, jerked the boy hard, making him trip and nearly fall down again. Green eyes snapped to the Elf as he was pulled up to the third floor hall. A long hallway extended directly in front of him, as well as off to the left and right, splitting the area into a three way intersection.
Flicker pointed directly in front of them. "The West, Little Master. Little Master's rooms are at the end of the hallway in the Grand Turret, sir. To the left, sir, is the South Wing, sir. Master says that Little Master is not permitted in the South Wing."
Harry sighed in irritation and tried unsuccessfully to jerk his wrist free of the manservant. "I heard that much. I just—"
"Little Master is not to be there, or Flicker must punish you," the Elf overrode him, completely ignoring his interruption. Doleful blue eyes, slightly egg-shaped and the size of tennis balls, turned and look at Harry with profound sadness. "Flicker does not wish to punish his Little Master, sir. And Flicker does not wish for the Master to punish either of us. We must always obey the Master, sir."
"Yes, but—"
"The Upper Library and Sewing, Music, and Sitting rooms be in the North Wing on the right. Little Master and Flicker may thus far visit those as the Little Master pleases. Little Master is not to be destroying any of the Master's things, though. We must—"
"Obey the Master," Harry snapped, trying again to wrench his wrist free. "I know that, Flicker, but if you would just let me go—"
Flicker's eyes widened and he beamed in joy. "Wise Little Master!" The Elf seemed to do a quick jig of glee before jerking Harry down the West hallway. "Wise Little Master! Oh, the Master may not have to punish you at all if Little Master is so wise."
That drew Harry up short and he literally dug his heels into the thick carpeting and jerked his hand up. The Elf, still maintaining his death grip, was jerked right up off his feet. His long ears, which had been twitching with joy, drooped as the boy pulled him up so that they were at eye level.
"Snape," Harry hissed venomously, "isn't going to touch me—"
Great big tears formed at the corners of Flicker's enormous eyes and the tiny thing seemed to wilt. "We must obey the Master, Little Master. Flicker is being a good House Elf. Little Master Harry Potter must be being a good boy. Bad boys are punished, Little Master. Bad boys . . ." the Elf broke off with a shudder. "Master does not like bad boys."
Suddenly the weight of the Elf seemed to be far, far too much to hold and Harry dropped his arm with a groan. Flicker touched lightly down on the floor as if he didn't suddenly feel like he weighed two hundred pounds and, still holding Harry's wrist, resumed dragging the boy back down the end of the hall.
"Little Master will be a good boy eventually," the Elf said in what was no doubt supposed to be a conciliatory tone. "Master will make everything alright."
The events of the afternoon suddenly seemed to overwhelm Harry and he swayed dangerously before the Elf jerked him forward. The ominous feeling he had felt in the pit of his belly lurched and swelled until he was lightheaded.
"Master will make it better," the Elf continued.
Somehow, as Harry was pulled towards the oak door at the very end of the hall, he didn't feel the least bit comforted.
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Chapter Two: And I Saw, Behold, a White Horse"I am perfectly capable of controlling my baser instincts, Potter," Snape hissed from behind him. "If you think you can do the same . . ."
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