Title: The Boxer
Chapter 6
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.
Pairings: H/D non-con, H/Sev
Date: February 1998
Beta by the awesome D. Gray. Any mistakes remaining are mine alone.
Under the covers Harry was wearing pajamas, slippers, and his robe. He was still shivering. Magic had to do with blood, it was a genetic mutation. Under a microscope a wizard's blood didn't look human, it was misshapen. Because of the odd blood their bodies were too efficient and needed to burn energy constantly, thus the magic inside all humans showed itself. Muggles needed all their energy to make their bodies work and the magic inside of them never showed itself. Wizards and witches also had much higher body temperatures than Muggles. Their internal heat was usually about a hundred and two point four degrees Fahrenheit as opposed to the average Muggle who temperature was ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit.
But wizards temperatures fluctuated as they used their power, dipping if they exerted themselves too much and rising if they didn't cast many spells. Harry's temperature was also tied to his emotions, he got freezing when sad and hot when happy. Today he'd killed fifteen people and was miserable and his temperature was ninety-six point four degrees, low for a Muggle, dangerous for a wizard.
Neville came to the Chamber and was surprised when Slytherin's mouth opened for him it had never done so in the past. The snakes hissed at him and while he didn't understand them he did get the message. He entered the bedroom quickly and felt Harry's forehead. He felt like a block of ice. Harry was almost unconscious as Neville stripped down to his pants.
In bed Neville pulled Harry up so that the dark haired boy was sitting on one warm leg while the other was wrapped around his waist. Neville slid his warm hands under Harry's and rubbed his chest. Dropping his head to the hallow of Neville's neck Harry said nothing as he was shivering too badly. After a half hour he said, "I'm so screwed. The person found out."
"So what did Blaise say?" asked Neville softly.
"Why would Blaise say anything?"
"Well was he the one-"
"No! if it was Blaise I would have told you. It's-"
"You don't have to tell me. I don't mind."
"Now that he knows you'll find out."
"No. No matter what I hear, I won't listen, I won't care."
"You will, of course you will. But you hate him."
"Justin Finch-Fletchley?" guessed Neville.
"Be real: he's ugly, straight, and mean."
"So it's someone hot, gay, and nice?"
"No, it's. . . Merlin you really hate him. I could never bring myself to tell you because I knew you'd be upset."
"Is it Crabbe and Goyle hatred or Snape hatred?" asked Neville for clarification.
"Snape."
"Who do I hate as much as Snape?" asked Neville truly confused.
"Snape."
"Yeah but. . . oh, oh, Harry." Neville's face fell and he looked so distressed Harry looked away, expecting his friend to untangle their bodies and leave.
"I'm sorry. I had to tell you, he'll probably laugh, stand up in the Great Hall, and make an announcement of it. This must feel like if you told me you loved Malfoy."
"Snape never forced me to give him oral sex."
"No he just humiliated you for six years."
"It's alright, Harry. You can't help liking him, it's not a choice. I know I was really worried about telling you I liked 'Mione."
"Why?" Harry was shocked.
"Ron was dead for two months, and she and I had been spending so much time together and I was afraid you would think I was trying to take his place, or take her from you. But I still went for her."
"I can't go for him!" Harry almost shouted. "He hates me!"
Severus entered the Chamber to hear Harry's last statement. He walked through the statue's mouth but stayed hidden in the corridor. He listened to the boys as Neville said, "He sought me out and sent me down here. That doesn't sound like hatred to me."
"Well there's more to the story."
"Why are you so cold? Is it just that he knows? What big magic have you been doing?"
"I killed Voldemort and about a dozen Death Eaters. I don't know who they were; I just wanted it to be over. I'm so ashamed."
"Of what? Ashamed of what?"
"I don't think I can tell you."
"What there's some confidentiality rule about attending Death Eater meetings?"
"No, I'm so ashamed. I just-"
"I won't tell anyone, not Hermione, not Head, not my grandmother. I won't judge it. You're so frighteningly cold and I don't think it's from killing thirteen bastards. You're so powerful. So what's upset you?"
"He didn't want to do it," Harry said quietly.
"I'm sure he didn't. But I still don't know what 'it' is."
"Voldemort wanted him to rape me. I'm so stupid."
"He raped you and you're calling yourself stupid? You're saying he sent me down here to take care of my raped friend?"
"It wasn't rape, not really. But he feels guilty or something. He didn't think I could pull off the AK. So he cast lots of spells on me to protect me. And he accidentally fell into a happy thought charm and he couldn't get out, I felt him there watching as. . . Voldemort would have seen if he'd broken the connection."
"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry."
"Other than doing the General Knowledge over Sunday lunch together I had every pathetic fantasy in the book. If I was a normal seventeen year old he'd've just seen lots of sex and think I was a randy fool as it is he knows I'm a useless emotional poof."
"Hey, don't say that! That's not a stigma in our world. It's about power not progeny. No one cares who you go to bed with so long as you use your power right."
"Thanks for reminding me that you're great."
Dobby was suddenly in the room carrying a huge tray and speaking excitedly, "Harry Potter has killed the Dark Lord!" Harry nodded and Dobby said, "This is wonderful for all of us! Professor Snape sent Dobby with food for you both. But Dobby has to go to the kitchen. We are making a feast!"
They ate, Harry only took tiny bites so that Neville wouldn't nag. He finished his story saying, "I wish I hadn't put the shields around me." Then he thought and said, "No, maybe I wish I could just move to Germany. I could learn German." Neville rolled his eyes and Harry said, "There's a spell, it hasn't been used in centuries. You can put yourself into a coma until someone specific dies, I could do it so that I'd wake up once he's dead, he can't laugh at me that way."
"Yeah," agreed Neville, "But who'll be my best man? Who will play Godfather to our kids? Who will Hermione talk to?" Harry shook his head and fell silent. Eventually Neville said, "I'm sorry to ask this but it's all new to me. Why do you like him? He isn't handsome, nice, or funny. And he's old."
"He's thirty-seven, that hardly being in his dotage. And he is funny, horribly mean but so funny. He's not nice, he isn't but that doesn't mean he's bad. And he is handsome. He isn't 'well fit' but he's all striking bone lines, and gorgeous dark eyes, and he has the sexiest hands. He bleeds elegance."
"So he's funny and handsome?"
"He's also frighteningly clever and ambitious. He was the youngest Potion Master since 1562."
"So why does he teach kids?"
"Helps him be a spy. Besides, Dumbledore's his family. I dropped his class. Think I can get into Advanced Herbology with you?"
"You don't have the grades, Harry, sorry."
Harry sighed, "Yeah, I know. . . Before I could pretend he hated me for looking like my father, or for breaking rules. But I can't look at him and know that he hates me for being me. I mean, the rest of the school has cause to hate me: I'm a murderer."
"No, you aren't. You did it to end the war and get out alive. No one can hate you for that."
"I've probably orphaned, Goyle, Crabbe, Macnair, Nott, And Pansy. I don't know who else. I killed Malfoy's whole family, I'm pretty sure. His aunt was there."
"The Lestranges were in charge of torturing my parents to lunacy and were at your house. A quick death was too good for them. As for Malfoy," he sighed before saying, "he forced you to your knees for ninety days."
"People do awful things when they're seventeen."
"Harry," Neville sounded exasperated to Severus. "Just because your father was a nasty piece of work when he was a teenager does not make it alright for Malfoy. And, while you won't tell me why you think he was mean-"
"It's not my place to tell," Harry interrupted.
"-I doubt he was as bad as Malfoy," finished Neville. "I didn't even think you trusted him. . . I hate to harp on but I really didn't see this."
"I didn't trust him, not for a long time and I hated myself for liking a really questionable guy. I was so afraid he was really one of them and that I'd have to kill him. But at the Halloween dance he fought for us. If he'd helped them they would have won, I know it: he taught me how to read the flow of a battle. They would have won, and he knew that at the time. I'm sure later he told Voldemort that he hadn't realized how close it was and that he was afraid to lose his cover as a spy. But I know what I saw on that day and I stopped worrying about his allegiances."
"You really trust him that much? He raped you tonight." Neville was more concerned than angry.
"I'm cold," Harry said after a silence.
"Yes you are." Neville thought and then said, "Just go to sleep, you'll feel a bit better in the morning."
After a short while Severus walked in saying, "Past curfew, Longbottom."
"But Harry-"
"Is a war hero," Severus interrupted sarcastically.
When Harry spoke his voice was very small, "Why are you here?"
"We need to talk."
"Can't Neville stay?"
"No."
Harry looked at the sheets as he addressed Neville, "I'll be straight up to bed."
"If you're not there in an hour I'm coming back down."
"I'll be up soon."
Neville slowly released Harry from his grip. And stood. He shot Severus a look that could have killed and cast a warming spell on the bed before leaving. Harry let the silence stretch and finally said, "So talk."
Severus looked at the boy's hands which were on top of the duvet . The boy's fingers were a blueish purple. "How cold are you?"
"Mid nineties."
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired, it's been a stressful day."
Severus understood the word stressful to mean miserable and asked, "How do you normally cope with stressful days?"
"Neville climbs into bed with me and I cast a happy illusions charm on myself and go to sleep. But that can only be cast on a body once during a single day."
"But mine, clearly, was not cast correctly."
"Why do you say that?" Harry's teeth began to chatter.
"They weren't happy. You're lover deigning to turn up to a friends wedding? Not being beaten? Justification of Malfoy's cruelty."
"Stop it," Harry said firmly. "They're happy, you leave them alone. It was a good spell. Better than one I've ever cast."
"What do you normally see?" asked Severus vaguely disgusted at Harry's idea of happy. What the hell had happened to this boy?
"Good memories, no future visions or doctored memories. Too long hugs from Hermione. Ron helping me clean up my blood after a spirited Quidditch practice with Oliver being equal parts worried, contrite, and angry. People touching me without flinching or clinging."
"Flinching or clinging?" asked the man.
"Some people don't want to touch me because I'm Harry Potter other people want to for the same reason. But some people don't react at all because I'm just Harry. So that's how I cast it."
"More specific then, this is in the interest of magic. What did you see last time you cast it?"
"Remus took me out for my seventeenth birthday. I'd left my Charms textbook in the living room so my uncle had given me a good hiding, locked me in my room, and kept me on bread and water as a punishment."
"Why would he do that?"
"I'm not supposed to be a wizard at home they tell people I go to a reform school for freaks. So it was week three. And it was about one in the afternoon I was sitting on the floor scoffing sweets Hermione had sent me at midnight. And he came and threatened to hex them if they didn't let me out. Once he had asked me a question about movie theaters and I couldn't answer because I'd never been allowed to go to one. So he took me to see a film, it was fun and then we got Indian take-away and had a picnic in the park."
"What happened after that?"
"Went home, got locked up again, ate more sweets. Why are you quizzing me?"
"I wanted to see how much you would say before you would ask that question."
"Honestly," Harry shook his head, "I let you into my mind. Isn't that enough?"
"You're entire hand is blue."
"Well it's been a hard day and Neville's warming charm is wearing off!"
Severus nodded, took off his boots and pulled back the sheets. "Human contact will be better."
"This goes beyond the bounds of teacher or guard."
"After today I don't think I'm either of those things. Now come here."
"No."
"Why not?" asked Severus feeling his patience wearing thin, this day had been too long.
"Because I don't want you being nice and holding me while you think I'm pitiable only to have you go back to hating me once you think I. . . whatever."
"I don't think of you like that. You're-"
"Just a boy, I remember," Harry said bitterly.
"I didn't say that negatively."
"No, you were just reminding me of my place."
Rolling his eyes Snape used a useful spell and a voice said, "Harry Potter's temperature is ninety-three point two degrees."
And he reached across the bed and pulled the weak young man to him saying, "This is your place for the moment." Too weak to argue Harry moved into the heat.
After a long time Harry said, "Why did you come down?"
"To give you this," Severus said holding out a healing potion. "And to tell you that Dumbledore won't allow you to drop my class."
"I'm sorry."
"We'll do it privately. So you won't have an audience. And you won't be graded, you just need to complete the course. Call it the spoils of the war hero."
"I don't want to be a war hero."
"Do you really want to be an Auror?"
"It's all I've ever considered. But Voldemort's dead and I don't want to work for the ministry."
"You're a very rich man, you can do whatever you like," Snape had no problems with this discussion. He always had career counseling conversations with the students in Slytherin.
"Yeah the Potter and Black fortunes, but I need to do something to keep me out of trouble."
"Oh, I meant with all the money you'll be getting from the Ministry."
"What money?" asked Harry not understanding.
"Everything the dead Death Eaters owned now belongs to the Ministry. The Ministry will pass it all on to you, not the houses or personal objects, those will be sold and you'll be given the money."
"What about their kids?"
"They get five percent. Of course some were childless like Wormtail, you'll get those in their entirety."
Harry felt numb, he had killed that bastard and not even realized. "Can I give it back to the children?"
Severus laughed thinking it was a joke but when he saw Harry's distressed look he said "No, they'll jail you if you try. Believe me, five percent of any of those fortunes is a lot of money."
"I don't want to make people orphans and paupers."
"They won't be paupers."
"So I'm a millionaire?" asked Harry still dazed.
Shaking his head at the boy's density he said, "You were already a millionaire, now you're assets come close to a half billion."
"Billion what?"
"Galleons."
"That's twenty-five billion pounds."
"Is it? I don't know muggle money."
"I'm rich."
"The richest wizard on Earth."
"I really can do whatever I like."
"Eat sweets and drink wine all day. Be a gardener, a window washer what ever you like. Throw lavish parties. Fly for six hours a day. Whatever you want." He looked down and realized Harry was asleep. Sitting silent and trying not to wake Potter, Severus stayed for a half hour, just thinking. He was startled at the noise of footsteps and shocked to see Neville Longbottom.
"You're still here?" asked Neville.
"I sent you to bed."
"I told Harry I'd be back, I gave him an extra half hour. He was supposed to get rid of you." He looked at the way the man was sitting with Harry's feet between his thighs. "I don't know what you think is going on but Harry cares for you very deeply. So don't mess him about leave him alone."
"Longbottom!"
"You're not my professor. I know about today. You can't rape him in the afternoon and then hold him at night without accepting the implications."
Snape started to uncurl from Potter at those words. He didn't need to put up with this tosh. But as he moved to get up Harry said, "Sev'rus? 'Here 'er y'goin'?"
Understanding that the boy was feeling the aftereffects of spell. Harry believed that he was in bed with his lover. Severus didn't want to ruin Potter's sleep so he said, "I'm going to the loo for a glass of water."
Harry asked, "Can I have one? 'M thirsty?" He stood, conjured a glass of water, took a sip, refilled it and handed it to Harry.
Harry moved to half sit up and Severus stroked his cheek so he wouldn't wake up. Holding the glass to the boy's lips he made gentle shushing noises. As Harry finished Snape said, "Good, I'm going to go but Neville is here."
"Why are you leaving?" asked Harry sounding confused.
"I have to go," said Severus in a tone so gentle that Neville didn't believe it was really him speaking.
"Do I get a kiss?" asked Harry, still very much half asleep.
Severus thought for a moment, hesitated, and then softly kissed Harry. It was lingering and sweet and he slid his fingers into scruffy hair. When they broke apart he said, "Go back to sleep." The boy nodded and laid back down feeling happy.
Turning he saw that Neville was watching and he asked, "What was that?"
"It was just what lingered from a charm."
"So a charm on him caused you to kiss him."
"He needs a goodnight's sleep. I wasn't willing to break his thoughts." Saying no more he turned, left, and went back to his rooms. There he consumed a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and passed out in his favourite chair.