1Title: The Boxer

Chapter 4

Author: Azure K Mello

Verse: The first of two stories in the 90 days 'verse.

Spoilers/Timeline: Set in Year Seven but ignores all of book six. So it could be called AU/Future fic/ Pre-canon , I don't mind what you call it.

Summery/Warnings: Blackmail, shame, hatred, disgust, degradation, and true love. RAPE

Pairings: H/D non-con, there's a relationship between two characters later but is developed in this chapter.

Date: February 1998

Beta by the awesome D. Gray. Any mistakes remaining are mine alone.

In the Chamber, Harry removed his head from his hands and thought, "It could have been worse. He would have laughed his arse off if he learned the pathetic truth. It could be so much worse." He stood and stretched. The tiredness seemed to be etched into his muscles. He walked through Salazar's mouth and into his room were he pulled his PJs off and walked to the toilet where Hermione had taken her shower. He hadn't let the students in here when they'd been locked in over night; he didn't want to share. Plus, to the untrained mind it was creepy and he didn't want people to start thinking again that he was evil. The carved snakes moved continuously hissing to each other and Harry. The sconces burnt an eerie green no matter what Harry did, it didn't really bother him, he thought it was pretty but Neville had said it was an unsettling place to bathe. The shower was the focal piece of the room with a hundred and forty-six heads designed to get potions off of skin. The water too was green, healing, and always strongly scented of growing things. The showerheads looked like snakes with open mouths, the water came from their fangs like venom.

The snakes on the floor moved under his feet, purposefully tickling and distracting their master. Harry turned the water as hot as he could bear hoping to drive the exhaust out of his mind and body. As he washed his hair and luxuriated in the spray he remembered a muggle movie he'd seen on the Dursley's telly when they'd been out of town visiting an Aunt who didn't like Harry. In the film, this girl was raped and then scrubbed herself until she bled under freezing cold water. Harry didn't really understand it, the heat was purifying. But then he didn't feel broken like that, just scared, and tired, and angry. Scared that people would find out and think less of him. Tired of hiding, and sneaking about, and putting up with Malfoy. Tired of being so tired all the time. And he was so angry that, after everything, Snape had learned of it and Malfoy still knew the truth. He wasn't disgusted with the act like the girl had been he was disgusted by the concept. And fear crept into his mind as he thought of his secret, a perversion of an innocent relationship. What would Neville say if he learned the truth about the depraved creature he shared a bed with?

He stepped out and dried himself with a spell. A second wave of his wand had him fully dressed and headed for class.

Harry walked through the halls with his eyes down, he didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to go to class and focus on things that mattered. Upon entering the DADA room he was pleased to note that Neville had saved him a seat between himself and Blaise Zabini, Hermione gave him a wave from the other side of Neville. As he sat down Neville passed him buttered toast in a napkin.

The class was pretty much uneventful. Professor Creston reminded Harry of Remus, strong, clever, honest, and careful with his students. He was muggle born, kind, and rather practical. Harry had found the class quite useful as they mainly focused on wordless spells and control. Even though he'd already taught himself much of what Professor Creston covered he was able to refine the skills he was gaining with the man's help.

The man entered saying, "Silent warding. How's it done? If someone is casting at you silently how do you block it?" Hermione sent Harry a pointed look when no one in the class raised their hand and so Harry reluctantly waved slightly. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Sir, a spell has a feel, even if it's silent. You can feel it coming at you if you concentrate. If you know Legilimency it's easier but if not you have to rely on the sensation and your own basic reaction. You can also stop a spell once it's hit you but that's harder to do, once a complete casting occurs the receiver is often incapacitated and not able to break its hold." He knew that when he spoke about this stuff he got didactic and sounded a bit like Snape, this was theoretical and learned from books. When he was speaking of practical application it became so much simpler to just explain how to get on with it.

"Very good, Potter. Today we'll be learning a block to a basic silent curse, Horrenmorsus. Those of us who've felt the effects of this curse know that it feels like stinging insects. How you block it is by concentrating on it's counter-jinx, there's no anti-jinx sadly so you do have to wait for it to be cast before you can protect yourself. The counter-jinx is Munmorsus. We're going to practice this, I'm going to cast it on each of you, I won't allow it to touch you if you fail to counter it but we will repeat it until you can counter it effectively." He silently turned to Harry and the student blocked the curse the instant he felt its birth. Again the man said, "Very good, Mr. Potter."

"Could you do it again later when I don't know you're doing it?" requested Harry.

"Surely," agreed the man and then proceeded to go through the whole class. As always, the kids who'd been in the DA and the Slytherins from darker families were the first to master the skill.

Meanwhile, Harry cast the actual curse on his own leg wanting to feel the effects. He gasped at the pain as he felt invisible bees eating his thigh and the sensation spread. Casting the counter he panted as the pain faded and looking up he saw that the class was watching him and he said, "That was quite stupid on my part." He felt slightly ill but well enough to block the curse when he unexpectedly felt it rushing towards him. He nodded his thanks to Professor Creston.

He felt Malfoy watching him but didn't bother to grace the boy with so much as a glance. As the bell sounded he gathered his things and was very glad he only had the one class on Monday mornings because he was exhausted and ready for dinner. Hermione, Neville, and Harry walked quickly to the Great Hall where they tucked in, before most had even sat down. Hermione was talking excitedly about the wordless magic and Harry was glad that Neville hadn't told his girlfriend about the rough night he'd had.

He felt badly for being the cause of a secret between them and he knew that, while she would understand his silence, he would have to tell her someday. But he already knew she wouldn't understand if he told her now, would look at him with that slightly condescending glance and say, "Why didn't you just tell him?" Because she had never loved someone who wouldn't love her back. If he had told her at the start, she would have forced him to go and tell the guy. Ron would have just gone and told the guy himself, he wouldn't have allowed Harry to be blackmailed. But he knew that, when they were grown up she would understand a little and just feel sad for him.

Feeling a stare on his back he was slightly surprised when he realized that Snape was the one watching him. Not looking up, he was frightened of the expression he would see on the man's face. Concentrating on his meal he was no longer hungry. He remembered with a sudden jolt that he had Potions next and felt physically ill. Not knowing what to expect from the man he winced when the bell rang and signaled the end of the meal.

He stood silently and waved to his friends, neither attended the class. Neville had dropped it as quickly as possible while Hermione had agonized over the decisions. Without the Time Turner she couldn't take every course offered and with her future career path she needed the higher level theoretical classes more than Potions. There were three Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs, four Slytherins, and Harry in the class. Harry's lab partner was Blaise Zambini.

It was odd to work with the boy. The year before, when the class had been larger, he'd asked Harry to be his partner just to piss off Draco. He had been angry over the way his supposed friend had treated Pansy Parkinson. Anyone who had eyes knew that Blaise had liked the girl and Draco had used her. And after what had apparently been a spectacular screaming match in the Slytherin common room Blaise stopped talking to his friend altogether.

Harry worked well with Blaise and just focused as hard as he could on their work. Blaise and he got on well, and sometimes they would study together by the lake or in Harry's room. It was a useful relationship. Harry reached for a stirring rod and accidentally touched Blaise's hand. The other boy didn't flinch at the contact and Harry smiled. He liked it when people didn't pay any attention to physical contact with him. And for that person to be a Slytherin was pretty surprising.

Blaise saw the smile and said, "Yep, we're getting a cheque-plus on this one, which is pretty amazing as the professor hates you."

Harry nodded in reply and yet again hoped that his secret would never see the light of day. He didn't want to lose the tentative friendship. It was nice to have friends and he'd never had many, and had already lost most of those that he had had in the past. They bottled a sample of the brew to be graded and a vial for each of them to keep. As they left Blaise said, "Come out with me?"

It wasn't rare for the seventh years to eat off of school grounds. But Harry shook his head at the invite. "I had about four hours of sleep last night. I'm going up to bed."

"Okay," Blaise said, "sleep well."

Harry trudged up to the tower pleased that he could relax in front of the fire. But when he got there he saw Hermione and Neville sitting close together in front of the hearth. Neville was stroking her hair and seemed to be drifting off, while Hermione was reading with a small smile on her face. Sighing Harry walked past them in stealth mode and stole up to the dorm not wanting to interrupt their time alone.

He slid out of his robes, stripped down to his pants, and went to the loo to brush his teeth. He came back and climbed into bed. Retrieving his wand from his bedside table he tried to cast Avada Kedavra, he worked on clear enunciation as he pointed at spiders on the ceiling but nothing happened. He tried to convince himself that it was about intent and tried to kill the bloody mosquito which had bitten him four times in the last ten minutes but still failed. Shaking his head, he felt like a complete wazack.

This needed to work, he needed to learn the spell, this wasn't an exam it was a war, and he was too scared to cast it right. Being a stupid, frightened kid wasn't going to solve anything. And so what if he became a murderer? Everyone wanted him to be one and he didn't get a vote. But he could already see the headlines asking if he was the Boy Who Lived To Kill and if he was safe. He knew that he'd soon be out of favour, disliked by acquaintances, and he would hate himself for the death even if the bastard did deserve it.

He heard the door opening and moved to put his wand down but Neville said softly, "I heard while I was on the stairs, you don't need to hide it from me."

"I can't do it," Harry said softly, ashamed of his inability.

"In front of me?" guessed Neville.

But Harry shook his head, "No, I can't do it at all. I just can't kill things, not with magic."

"What about inanimate objects? Can you break those? I've seen you do make locks explode. What if you cast it on a quill and work your way up?"

Harry sighed and said, "I'll try," as Neville fetched a quill. He held the quill at arm's length and performed the curse. The pen snapped in half, which was odd as the spell left no mark on a human body.

Neville smiled and said, "That's good, you can do it when you take emotions out of it."

Turning towards the buzzing noise he executed the spell again and the engorged mosquito fell to the floor. Harry looked at the dead insect; he wouldn't have hesitated to swat it: it still felt so wrong to curse it. Looking at Neville he asked, "Can we go to bed? I have to be in Snape's office at seven." Neville nodded and the two boys fell silent.

The week went slowly, long hours were spent with Snape practicing the spell. The man spent hours berating him, telling him to focus, telling him to go into the forest and kill the cutest rabbit he could find. They dueled for hours, they brewed potions, they talked about strategizing. And finally it was the weekend and Harry had a little time to relax. But there was a Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about meeting Malfoy in the air but as he woke he thought, "Today is the day." Getting out of bed he quickly dressed in jeans and felt Neville watching him

Neville said, "You could call it off, cite exhaust. Or call in Ginny and captain the game from the ground."

"No," Harry said, "I've got to do this at some point. I'll be okay." He went down to the pitch and the dressing rooms where he pulled on his Quidditch robes and gave a speech to his team about keeping their wits and doing their best and remembering that they were a better team, which wasn't necessarily true because the team was quite young as so many of last years team members were dead. But they were quite good individually they just needed more time to gel as a team.

In the air he felt liquid and fast and was really starting to enjoy the match as he shouted directions and searched for the snitch. The high point came early when Malfoy, showing off as always, misjudged a dive and fell off his broom. Harry smiled as he watched the idiot fall, he knew that Dumbledore would ease the boy's plunge but he would still hit the ground. He realized that he didn't really want revenge on the blond he just wanted Malfoy to bugger off.

As he watched, Malfoy turned mid fall so that he would hit his back and not his oh-so-precious face. And Harry saw a smirk spread over his ferret face but didn't understand why he would be finding this funny until he felt fingers around his wrist and looked up to see a white-masked figure floating above him. Finding himself being pulled by a Portkey he couldn't even scream. Without time to think or process he didn't react in time to the silent binding curse or the knock out curse that hit him one after another.

He regained consciousness too quickly for his liking. As he did a mental checklist and found that he was bound, physically and magically. He couldn't touch his own power. From his position on his back on his floor he looked around to find himself, unsurprisingly, in the centre of a ring of Death Eaters. They were back in the graveyard. And he was naked, brilliant. This was way worse than that dream where he was in Transfiguration and he was supposed to transfigure a bird and wrist watch into a cuckoo clock but ended up naked instead.

Suddenly a high pitched voice was, "Lovely, Bella, as always." Harry shuddered at the sound; he couldn't deal with Voldemort today. He was tired from so much training. "My loyal Death Eaters, we are here for a purpose tonight. We will kill two birds with one curse. Severus will be here shortly. Then he will break Harry Potter. Thus those amongst you who do not trust Severus will see the light and the rest of us will watch a master at work." Harry looked around trying to find Snape but couldn't spot the man. Voldemort said, "It's such a pity that a spy can never be on time." There was a popping noise and a lithe figure appeared behind the man. "Oh good, you're here."

The man bowed deeply to the creature he called master and said, "Sir, how can I be of service?"

And it wasn't until the moment he saw Severus in a white mask and covering robes that he believed it. He had never really believed the man could be a Death Eater. And he wasn't frightened until he saw the man bow. But he really believed that Snape was a Death Eater when he saw how easily the man yielded to Voldemort. He knew without a doubt that he was going to get hurt before very long. Beginning to shake he was almost pleased to hear Snape inside of his head. The man wasn't pushing against his shields just speaking outside of them. "Potter, you can't cast the killing curse, he's locked your powers and I can't unlock them. The only way I can get you through this is if you let me behind your shields. Don't drop them, just let me in. Please, Potter. We won't get out alive."

Letting the man in Harry spoke inside of his mind and said, "I'm okay."

Severus Snape worked quickly to cast silent spells. Harry started screaming without meaning to, because one of the spells caused Harry to scream and struggle without his mind's participation as Severus made a show of holding him down. The second spell pulled Harry away into his mind and gave him happy hallucinations. The third and final spell was a tiny lust spell, not enough to arouse the boy just enough to make him relax. As he cast the last spell he tried to pull back from Harry's mind but realized that exiting would destroy the happy illusion charm. He couldn't cast it twice. If he wanted to get out of the spells he would have to break physical contact and that would make it obvious to Voldemort that spells had been cast. So he stayed as unobtrusive as possible. He raped the boy physically while still protecting his mind.

Trying to shy away from the boy's thoughts Severus realized he couldn't do it, he was stuck, he watched the illusions play out from Harry's perspective, and he felt ill. He didn't want to see Potter's idea of a fantasy.