Wicked Things

A chilling gust of wind surrounded Harry, bellowing his thick black cloak outward around him as if a mocking pair of ink wings. The great cavern of shadowed earth stood before him, one so familiar that he could not resist its pull. It resembled the primal gravitation that existed between those things of good, and those things of darkest evil.

He lifted his hand gently as if it was possessed, emerald eyes staring down into the cavity, he could see movement; Dreadful slow movements equaling that appalling quiver that came from things long dead.

Bodies, souls, he did not know which, all crawling upon one another. Each having lost voice some time ago, a detached part of Harry's mind was curious to why. (When evil took you, did you lose your voice as well? Would he in the end lose that very thing that made him be able to cast spells?)

That is where the evil came from. Slowly taking form and name in the creature that had once been a man, the cursed Mudblood son of Riddle. Tom Riddle.

Voldemort…

"When the darkness comes to reside within you Harry Potter will you deny it?"

"Harry come on you need to wake up." Harry's eyes opened to the sound of Ron entering his bedroom, his noisy redheaded companion struggling to fit through the door with the tray's he was holding.

Oh yes, he wasn't dead yet. That had only been a dream, just a dream

Shaking his head, Harry pulled himself from his bed, legs gently sliding to one side then off of the edge. He stood, the white sheet he had slept with clinging fitfully to his legs, the brown haired boy flicked it away with momentary annoyance.

It was time for breakfast, Ron must have felt it best to come and dine with his best mate, and it was rather strange that Hermione was not here to accompany him. (Or at least Harry thought so)

"I brought you some stuff from the Grand Hall." Ron gave Harry his familiar half smile and set several plates upon the floor with a soft metal chink. Each was laden with various lovely smelling treats: bacon, eggs (sunny side up and scrambled because Ron could never remember what anyone liked), toast, some strawberry jam in a small golden topped container, with a spoon set aside, and several small cherry pies with white sugar dusted on them.

Harry appreciated the gesture, but at the moment he felt like going to the loo and having a nice puking session. He hated those dreamscape imaginings, the ones that would pull so deeply at his heart that he felt sometimes it had fallen out somewhere along the way.

"Thanks Ron." He managed a smile and pulled his glasses off of the small table that rested beside his bed, slipping them upon his nose.

Harry left his wand for fear that he might have a 'burning' incident. Honestly he only tried to touch it when he was practicing his spell work or in teaching sessions.

The darker haired young man stretched before sitting on the floor beside the redhead, slightly uncomfortable, but nice all the same. Smiling softly he took a swig of orange juice, happily tilting his head back to allow the cool liquid to slowly seep down his throat.

"Hermione and I broke up last night." Ron spoke, voice sounding as if he was terribly confused, or sad, most likely both. So that was it, the two of them must not be speaking for the moment, or at least to Harry that is what appeared to be happening.

Harry glanced up quickly and set down his juice at once, unable to keep the stunned astonished tone from his voice. "But why, you two were so good for each other… Did you have a fight?"

"No, it was worse." Ron sighed and ran his hands through his lengthy red hair it had grown to nearly below his shoulders, quite lovely on him really. A fact that Harry felt he should push away at the moment.

"Worse, what do you mean?" Harry questioned gently, and awaited an answer as Ron stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. He was always hungry, Harry secretly suspected it was 'litter' syndrome, in which a 'pup' (or Ron) would not get as much as they wanted to eat at a young age, then try and make up for it in later life.

"I couldn't…have sex with her. So we both broke it off and have decided to be friends for now." his voice lowered at the last, in an ashamed fashion. Ron was rubbing his hands together as if he was cold; Harry knew better, the boy did always have to fidget. But that was just Ron, nearly as much as the freckles upon his face where.

"I mean I'd get right up to it and then I would just...go flat. I mean I'd think of all kinds of things, and kiss her and even touch her down there. But nothing would actually turn me on. "Ron spoke bowing his head and put it into his hands, pale hands.

Harry had always thought that his light coloring would impede his Quidditch, but never had. Ron had even managed to become the Captain, a fact that though Harry felt happy for him, made him angry as well; he'd never have that opportunity.

"Well maybe…maybe you just don't like girls, Ron." Harry spoke quietly, green eyes staring downwards, dark lashes nearly resting against his cheek. He had always guessed that his friend was similar in sexual persuasion, now he would test that theory.

"…No that can't be right, I don't like blokes. I mean all of my brothers like girls just fine." Ron spoke up eyes wide, staring at Harry as if he had just spoken of something very odd.

Harry shook his head in denial and placed his boxy hands on his knees as he leaned backward in thought.

"Well I don't think it works that way, have you ever kissed a guy before?" Harry questioned giving a gentle tilt of his head, staring at his friend.

"Of course I haven't!" Ron bristled shaking his head and looking away, a distinctly cherry colored flush coming to his face, the boys pale thin fingers nervously caressing the underside of his long school shirt.

"Well then you don't really know for sure do you? If you've never done something before it could just as well be right, you should at least try it to disprove the idea." Harry replied quickly, a neat shade of faint pink rising onto his cheeks, rather amazed at his own…detachment from the subject.

Although he was not about to tell Ron that he very much liked boys and had never crossed into the realm of females, he knew he never would.

"Maybe your right. I should…at least try it." Ron replied quietly. He became a deeper fuchsia, nibbling his lower lip gently as if he was seriously considering bolting from the room.

"Well you could just test it out on me." Harry heard himself say though he didn't quite believe it, this was wrong, Ron wasn't the one he was supposed to be kissing.

Ron grew quiet as if considering the offer and drew in a shuttering breath, then nodded, in agreement. "Alright, but we never tell anyone. It's just a test to prove you wrong."

Harry nodded in assurance and moved his head forward slightly until their faces where very close together, hands keeping carefully away from the other boy's head.

Ron's lips descended, they were very warm, soft and questing not at all like Severus's had been. Harry opened his mouth and allowed the gentle exploration, his own hands falling limply on either side of his legs. He didn't quite know what to do with them.

The kiss changed slightly, deepening as Harry's tongue moved out to gently touch Ron's own, a dance nearly. Something soft, that left a fluttering twist of emotions in Harry's chest, not at all like the burning raging fire that had sparked the instant that Severus's mouth had touched his own.

Ron pulled back, eyes wide as he stared at Harry. "Umm…that wasn't too bad." He spoke softly lovely little face the color of a rose, turning his body away, as well as his gaze.

Harry couldn't keep the grin from his features, and started laughing quietly as he spoke. "Well I'm glad you think so Ron." This was fantastic; Harry loved the feeling of being able to flirt with someone that held no consequences.

"Weasley go to class." a bitter voice spoke, Severus.

Both of the boys snapped apart further turning to see the tall foreboding man standing just inside the room's door. His voice was frigid, so very much so that Harry would imagine long ice spikes flinging violently forward into Ron's body, splattering it into a million unrecognizable pieces. That was not the end of it; Severus stood straight, fists clenched so tightly that the white of his knuckles was astoundingly obvious.

"Yeah, I guess I should." Ron's green eyes were wide as he stood up, Harry felt a large amount of sympathy for his friend, and Merlin knew what Severus was so pissed about. But he had a feeling his redheaded friend would have a tough time getting back on the man's good side (if he even had one when it came to a Weasley).

"I'll see you later Harry." He in Harry's direction and Harry waved as the boy calmly ran out of the room with his tail in-between his legs.

"We will continue with our latest lesson on the Amobious Curse." Severus spoke, turning away from Harry to the set of green boxes that earlier been kept in the forest cabin. (Harry still hadn't figured out how it worked, all he knew is that their makers name was Xaldo Actodum). He removed two small vials, setting them aside onto the small desk that was used for Harry's classroom assignments.

"Alright," Harry replied narrowing his eyes slightly then took a last bite of bacon; it was slightly chilled but fit all the same. At least in his opinion, that little bit of meat was well worth eating cold, a trait that he'd acquired while the Dursley's so graciously allowed him in their home. Food was never to be wasted.

"You will attempt and cast the curse again. Have you been practicing as I ordered?" Severus questioned, not looking at Harry, curious in the boy's eyes. What could make The Potion's Master become so very distant in a snap? They had been making fast progress, Harry nearly considered him a friend.

"What is wrong Severus?" Harry questioned, eyes narrowing slightly as the man's back straightened once more. The younger lad was not about to let his Professor alter his attitude so quickly for no reason.

"Nothing Potter, Cast the damn curse." He turned himself around, eyes completely devoid of any emotion, a bitter fury rose in Harry at that moment. Those ink eyes reflecting nothing but the scorn that was so carefully cultivated for the public.

Fine, if that was the way it was going to be, so be it.

Harry moved over to the side table that rested next to his bed, picking up his wand. It only scalded his hand this time; he'd nearly grown used to the feeling.

…Nearly.

A sharp pain that would fade as he used his magic, something that he had supposed formed from his own sins, or maybe he wasn't meant to be a Wizard at all.

No, far too easy, he could never be something he wanted.

"Amobio Regos!" Harry turned his wand using the snapping hand motion. The room shook violently as his power surged forward and wrapped around the Professor.

A dark cerulean flame, cold as ice if it actually hit its target, this spell was an ancient one that most Wizards had no protection against.

Albus and Severus had agreed that the more spells they could teach Harry, the better; it might offer some opportunity to destroy the Dark Lord with misplaced bit of spell-work. To Harry, that sounded questionable, as if they were relying on luck alone, sad, how very true.

It hit Severus's barriers thick invisible castings that prevented countless forms of pain, snapping violently and roaring outwards as it twisted making a mock face of some corrupted dragon. Harry had always been curious to why his magic took this form with many of his offensive spells; dragons were rare indeed, even in the wizarding world.

Severus lifted his own wand, long fingers using a more intricate motioning as he barked the disarming spell, "Degraderate!"

"I cast the damn spell. Now tell me what the hell is wrong." Harry spoke up glaring fiercely, though his wand was lowered; he still retained a threat in his lovely olive colored eyes.

Something he himself did not realize but affected the teacher greatly, causing his breathes to become shallower.

"Nothing is wrong Potter, leave me be." Severus turned away, slowly taking a step away from the enraged teenager, attempting to calm himself.

Harry would not allow it.

"God damn it. You come in here and nearly tear Ron's head off and expect me to just let you?" The boys' voice rose, as he advanced, something shuttering inside him as he felt his anger temporarily consume his mind. Something invisible surrounded him as if some blanket created from the fabric of the unseen; a dark energy that he could not resist the urge to engorge in.

"That sniveling brat deserved it!" Severus snarled twisting himself around, ink colored eyes wide and completely incensed. His whole body pounded with an anger that Harry had never seen in the man before, long thin fingers curling into his fists as he moved forward, cloak moving outward as if unseen energy was radiating off of the man.

Harry noticed something anomalous; symbols appeared on Severus's hands, large twisting spirals that wrapped around each finger. He'd never seen such a thing before, they appeared as if muggle tattoos, and yet they flowed with each and every pulse that came from Severus, as if wanting to snap off of his skin.

The black haired man came closer, staring at Harry with an intensity that he had never seen before. Such consuming desire that it felt as if he was being devoured needed so desperately that nothing, no one would stand in Severus's way.

Indeed nothing did, as the man pushed Harry back onto his bed, the boy tripping over the end and landing with a soft thump. His hands, so long and sensually slender, moved over Harry's body.

His hands caressing the younger man through his clothing, Severus's mouth capturing the boys own in an animalistic kiss. He was relentless in its assault, plundering forth the sweet taste of the boy's lips.

Harry dimly heard his own moan as Severus's energy consumed him, his own youthful body betraying him in the last moment of clarity pushing up into the long length of the larger mans own.

Severus released Harry's mouth, moving down to bite his neck, licking and teasing over his ear, unable to speak. "You belong to me Potter. You...Are...Mine." Severus spoke into his ear, his own voice a corrupted mimicry of the normal dark tenor that it normally retained.

The boy writhed with pleasure as his mind was slowly dulled to nothing, hands moving up his shirt, he dimly opened his eyes. He should remove it, the thing prevented those lovely hands from doing such wicked things…yes…wicked.

He was greeted with the sight of Severus watching him, such lust; it caused Harry's own breath to flitter away in an instant. Coal eyes so appallingly enraptured as he removed his shirt, tossing it off of the bed onto the floor.

Severus's hands moving over the newly revealed flesh with fervor discovering each newly shed inch. Harry supposed he could be memorizing it. He didn't care really this was too much.

It felt so wonderful, as if Harry was being slowly consumed by a burning flame, no something sweeter than that, a star, yes a star. One so brilliant that it tore his mind into a million dazing pieces, leaving nothing but a contented husk behind.

"Se-verus…" Harry moaned gently, pressing himself upwards as the larger man moved over his hips, he wanted that so much…anything, not to be left alone anymore. The black haired other stilled, stopping at once, he shuttered slightly then closed his eyes and managed to stand.

Harry opened his eyes, breathlessly gasping as he looked up. For the first time he saw something unfamiliar inside Severus Snape's eyes, fear.

Not the sort of fear that most people felt when they where up too high, or the sort when Ron spotted a spider. No, this was the fear that only gained when one thought they were losing their mind, a true unadulterated loss of control.

Harry could not keep the look of abashed disbelief from his face, Severus, something was terribly wrong.

"I am…sorry Harry." Severus closed his eyes, and then straightened himself, attempting to regain some symbol of the demeanor that usually came so naturally for him.

"Your lessons will continue tomorrow. Read the next chapter on illusionary charms. " He spoke with his usual frosty reserve, but Harry knew that what was happening to his new counterpart was anything but usual.

Before Harry could say another word he left. The boy swore and glared down at his shirt where it had fallen onto the floor, a clear marker of what insanity was slowly dripping into Severus's mind

This was going to stop, he knew something was wrong and he was going to find out what.

Damn right he was going to find out.

Harry crept silently down the hallway; covered in his cloak he was invisible to the naked eye. He drew it close to himself as several second years passed, some part of his mind wished that it where late at night and not so early in the morning. At least then students would be safely in bed, and not struggling to their classes, or more importantly right in Harry's way.

He managed to make his way to Dumbledore's office, happy that the Headmaster had told him the newest entryway to his office. It was rather ingenious really, the boy creeping up to the small twisting lining that surrounded the left side of the doorway.

Touching it very gently, he leaned forward. "Hershey-bar," His voice was a mere whisper in the empty hallway.

Energy surrounded him, pushing him up into the headmaster's main rooms; it was a strange sort of feeling that left him terribly itchy afterward.

Severus was there, just as Harry knew he would be. What the boy didn't expect was to see his condition, head bowed into his hands. Thick hair held by the long finger tips, fingers that had just an hour before been doing such wonderful things to him…

Harry shook his head in denial; this was not the time for that.

The Headmasters lair was small, cramped with hundreds (maybe thousands) of unique and mysterious objects, including several moving maps that floated overhead, the Sorting Hat (who was sleeping fitfully on one of the shelves), and some sort of large crystal ball that had floating, rainbow colors in its center, dancing nymphs moving around the large silver cylinders that rested along its edge. Harry had always been curious about where these objects had come from, and if maybe the Headmaster held some rare dark magic's in all the mess.

"I can't teach him anymore Albus." Severus spoke, voice muted by some emotion…oh yes, self-hatred. Harry recognized that one easily enough.

"Yes you can Severus; we do not have a choice." The Headmaster spoke, bright blue eyes seemingly poignant from behind his crescent moon spectacles. He lifted his ancient hands and crossed them under his chin, causing his long silvery beard to move slightly towards his thin body.

"No one else can teach him what he needs to know. Not even I Severus. At this time you are the only person who can help Harry." He spoke lowly, and glanced up in Harry's direction. (The boy had always guessed the headmaster could see through the cloak, this confirmed it.)

"But also I must say that for Harry's sake, now that you are joined with him…maybe this is simply the only way it is meant to be." His voice was quiet, nearly regretful as he spoke softly, slowly closing his eyes for a moment.

Severus's body shuttered, as if this gentle permission was a thick hard lash upon his back. In some way Harry knew it was, Severus now had no one to tell him no in his wants, and the boy could guess that allowance would not come easy.

Harry did not know what a joining was, but as he watched Severus Snape silently curl into himself with unshed pain, he knew it was important.

Harry had never been someone to ignore important things.