Chapter 42: Getting Out of Bed

The day that Poppy returned to the hospital wing, Snape decided it was time to get started on his healing plan dealing with the boy. He wasn't exactly sure on how to do it and reread those muggle books that he had bought about child abuse but they didn't seem to answer about how to go about forcing him to talk. He had never dealt with these intense problems before and was completely confused on how to intercede. He thought about if this was right; if he was the right person to help him. He wasn't a good person; he had proved that over and over again. He was a sarcastic basterd and surely, no one like him could help anyone out with his or her emotional issues. He sighed heavily and stalked in the room and stared darkly at the boy.

"Are you going to ever get out of that bed again?" He asked Harry.

There was no answer.

He crossed his arm across his chest and narrowed his eyes, "I have taken the week off from teaching. It will be just you and me in this room until you do, because I can always take another week off. You are the number one priority because I refuse to let my apprentice to continue wallowing in self-pity. Well?"

Harry said nothing.

Snape sighed, talking to him wasn't working. The boy just curled tighter around himself until he was a tense, quivering ball of muscle, holding so tight, Snape was sure he would break one of his new bones in an attempt to get smaller. The boy needed a jump start; something to get any feeling or motion in him. If it was step forward or backward, it didn't matter. He just needed to go somewhere besides deeper than that bed. But what to do? He had a few ideas but felt sicker at the schemes.

He slowly removed his robes, delicately open button after button and sliding it gentlely off his shoulders. Then he sat on the bed and removed one boot then another. He unclasped his shirt and folded it, placing it on the neat pile of his clothes. Wearing only his pants and ignoring a sick feeling in his belly, he crawled next to Harry and spooned him. He lightly massaged his waist and snuggled him, placing his head on his shoulder and breathing the scent of hair loudly so Harry could hear.

He told him, huskily. "Or you can never leave my bed. I never had an apprentice before and you should know you have no rights; you are kind of like a slave to do as I please with. I could rape, beat, curse, cut, and fuck you and no one could do anything about it. Not Dumbledore. Not McGonagal. Not your friends. Not your godfather. In fact, I could invite them all to watch as I stick my dick in your tight little ass and fuck you till you bleed. Can you see their faces? How disgusted they would be with you as I ram into you."

At the end of Snape's little speech, Harry pulled away with such force that he couldn't hold on to him. Harry screamed and elbowed him in the ribs and while Snape was trying to get his breathe back, he tackled him. Snape didn't fight back as blow after blow landed on him, he wanted to as he felt the stings of the punches but his arms were trapped under Harry's legs. He knew his nose was broken and he would be sporting black eyes but he was most worried at being knocked unconscious incase Harry tried something stupid again. In the back of his mind, he heard laughter that he recognized as his own and voice saying snidely, now that is a reaction.

Then Harry stopped hitting him and started wailing like a newborn baby. Then he hiccupped and bellowed, "No more, Uncle Vernon. No more. Please, no more."

"That's right, Harry. No more. No more," Snape said sadly. He moved gingerly, biting back a hiss of pain. He wrapped his arms around him while he sobbed. He was pleased Harry didn't try to pull back but leaned into him. They stayed there, wrapped around each other as Harry cried until there were no more tears left in him. Later, Snape noticed he had fallen asleep and soon he joined him.