Chapter Eight:
Guilt
After almost two hours of studious reading, Harry decided to get up and find Snape. He felt the need to thank the professor, and he desperately wanted to tell someone of all that had happened in that bathroom. The pain of what Draco had done to him was gnawing away at his insides, but there was also the guilt that came from harming himself.
Even more shameful was the fact that every time the thought of Draco practically raping him appeared in his mind, Harry felt the twinges of arousal slither down his spine and coil in his belly.
"Professor?" Harry called out anxiously as he peered down the hallway, "Professor?" Harry moved slowly out of the guest room, frightened that he might be doing something wrong by leaving the bed. At one end of the hallway was what looked to be a parlor room of some sort, though Harry didn't know for sure, because it was very dimly lit. The rest of the hallway consisted of three doors, one of which, the one at the very end of the hallway, had a yellow glow underneath it.
"Snape must be in there," Harry thought, creeping across the cold dungeon floor on stocking feet. Snape must have removed Harry's robe and shoes before putting him to bed, for Harry could think up no other reason as to why he wasn't wearing them.
"Professor?" Harry called once more, his voice nearly a whisper as he placed his hand on the doorknob.
The door swung open, startling Harry, and Snape stood in the doorway, glaring down his nose at Harry.