Title: Chained

Author: Darwick

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year more powerful than he left. Dumbledore is seeing frightening similarities between Harry and Tom Riddle. Fearful for Harry's soul, Dumbledore does the unthinkable.

Warnings: HP/SS, Non-Con, Snarry, Slash, Violence and some Swearing. (Not as dire as it sounds. Just be warned I've chosen the M rating for a reason.)

Disclaimer: No money is being made from this fan fiction. All rights are reserved to JKRowling.

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Run him like a blade

To and through the heart

No conscience

One Motive

Cater to the hollow

A Perfect Circle- The Hollow

Chapter Two…let the snarry begin.

--

It was in Charms, the third class of the first day, that Harry realised something was off. His spells didn't work properly. It was just a little review. Demonstrate to the class a simple summoning charm, fourth year stuff really. But the book on the other side of the room didn't come to him… they all came to him. Every single book in the entire class suddenly flew at Harry.

Harry and Ron ducked under their desks while a few dozen texts thumped above them. Flitwick just smiled and clapped and the class laughed. Extra points for Gryffindor!

--

Harry slouched in his chair. At the moment he sat in the Headmaster's office across from his Head of House and the Headmaster. The room was almost beyond recognition. Baubles, books, devices and furniture alike lay broken and shattered on the floor. Portraits hung askew and sooty black burns marked the ceiling.

"Well, this is highly unusual." Dumbledore said. He reclined in his wingback with his finger propped beneath his chin looking thoughtful.

"You think." Harry mumbled.

Professor McGonagall on the other hand looked downright worried. Her hair had come out of its pristine bun and had become a frazzled halo around her head. Harry might have laughed if the situation were not so serious.

"You say you noticed a change after your birthday?" Albus asked rhetorically. "And now your strength has increased quite impressively."

Harry nodded, without looking up. "I'm I going to be expelled Sir?"

"Oh dear, no Harry, though I will have to bring this to the Governors attention. But I dare say they will see your presence is required here more than ever. What is a school for, if not learning?"

Professor McGonagall snorted. Harry looked up at her. There was a thin wry smile on her lips. Harry guessed that the Governors would not have a choice in the matter. She turned back to Harry. "Perhaps, Mr Potter, you should refrain from using your wand for the mean time until the Headmaster figures something out…"

Harry nodded again, with less enthusiasm. Then he looked up and asked. "You mean use magic without a wand then?"

The earnest tone of Harry's voice caught the attention of both professors. They shared a look Harry had seen many times before.

"Harry, have you cast spells without a wand before?" Albus asked.

"Well, sure. I mean, every kid does." Harry replied.

"Of coarse they do, under stress. What I meant was have you cast a spell without a wand, intentionally?" The Headmaster clarified.

Harry nodded. "I'm not very good at it though. It only works half the time."

The professors shared another look.

"That isn't normal is it?" Harry asked slowly.

Albus smiled. "It is not common, no. Wandless spells are difficult to grasp for most, but not all."

"Can you…can you do it?"

"Occasionally."

Harry slunk further into his seat. "Can Voldemort?"

Dumbledore smiled weakly. "Not to worry Harry. I'll work out a table, so that we may practice your spell work together, in a safe environment. For the time being though, forgo the practicum's in your class work, alright? I will send for you in a day or two to begin our lessons."

--

Classes had gone downhill from then. Harry was no longer allowed to use his wand in class. Whenever he pulled it out of his pocket, people flinched as if he had just pulled out a loaded gun. It had been funny the first day, now it was just plain irritating.

It was almost like second year, when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin. Only now they just thought he was out to get them, because he could. The people he had known for the last six years, his friends, even the Slytherins were afraid of him.

It made him sick and angry all at the same time, because he had seen that kind of fear before, it was how people reacted towards Voldemort.

When he walked to class, everyone gave him a wide birth. They kept their eyes down and hurried passed. No one yelled at him, or made fun of him anymore. Nor did his year mates joke with him or include him. Only the Weasleys and Hermione seemed unaffected by his new freakishness. Even the teachers had changed their attitudes toward him, now they were wary and careful.

How could they think he was anything like that monster?

And even though he understood why they acted like they did, it made him so angry! He knew his anger showed, and scared people more than they already were. But why was it always him! Why couldn't some other boy or girl bear the brunt of fame and notoriety? Why couldn't someone else play hero, or fight back? Why couldn't someone else speak a dark language, or kill a basilisk, or turn into nuclear bomb. Why him?!

--

Harry had become so used to people avoiding him that he almost walked into Professor Snape as he headed to supper. "Sorry sir." Harry mumbled and stepped around the man. He stopped when Snape's hand tightened around his upper arm. He looked up at the professor. "Sir?"

"Potter, when you are finished your dinner come and see me in my office."

Harry frowned and nodded before disappearing into the great hall. It took Harry a moment to realise what was bothering him; Snape had just touched him. Harry could almost count the number of people who touched him on two hands and more than half of those people didn't count being dead or evil.

Dinner ended inordinately quickly, as it usually did when Harry had a detention. This may not have been a detention, but a 'meeting' with Snape was never an enjoyable experience. He waved off his friends and followed a group of Slytherins down into the dungeons.

He only had to knock once before the door swung open. Snape stood in the door way and looked down at him with an unreadable expression.

"You asked me to come…" Harry said nervously.

Snape snorted, then stepped out of his office and locked the door. Snape took off down the hall with long strides. "Follow me, Mr Potter."

At first he thought they were going to the Slytherin dormitories, but then they turned again and stopped before a large portrait of a dragon. Snape said something and the painting slid into the wall revealing a door. Snape tapped on the knob before he opened it and beckoned Harry inside.

Dumbstruck Harry stood just inside the door to Professor Snape's personal chambers. His horror was slowly replaced with curiosity. When would he get to see the inside of the most feared professor's quarters? Tentatively he began walking around the main room, sure to keep one eye on Snape. But the man just stood in front of the mantle and watched him. Carefully Harry inspected the bookcases and knickknacks, waiting for Snape to snap at him, but the reprimand never came. After cursory look around the room Harry pulled his attention back to the dark haired man.

"Tea?" Snape asked.

"Sir?"

"Do you want tea, Mr Potter?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I don't understand, sir. What am I doing here?" Harry was very confused. This was all so…surreal.

Snape sighed and sat down in the wingback and gestured Harry to the sofa. "The Headmaster asked me to speak with you about…many things."

"My majority!" Harry finally understood and sat down on the dark velvet couch.

Snape conjured a steaming pot of tea and poured out two cups. "Among other things, yes."

"What other things?" That didn't sound good.

"The Dark Lord," Snape set a tea cup in front of Harry. "You seem to become more like him every year."

"I am nothing like him!" Harry yelled, his simmering anger boiling to the surface. He was suddenly standing and his wand was pointed at Snape.

"Sit down Potter!" Snape said in irritation, ignoring the wand altogether. "I merely meant your abilities are similar to the Dark Lords: Parseltongue, the power boost, your knack for living…your anger."

Harry sat back down grudgingly and put his wand away. He was still breathing hard, but it was hard to keep up his anger at Snape when the man was being so calm. He picked up his tea and drained half of it as Snape continued to talk.

"The Headmaster has asked me to get to the bottom of whatever it is, that is between you and the Dark Lord."

"He wants to kill me." Harry said automatically.

Snape raised another eyebrow and leaned back with his cup in his hands. "Really, Potter, you should know better than to lie to me of all people."

Harry's cheeks burned and he looked away from the legimens.

Snape leaned forward curiously. "What's changed then?"

Harry took a swig from his mug. The hot drink burned down the back of this throat. "Nothing's changed."

"You're lying again Potter." Snape said, his voice reverberating through the room. It made Harry shiver and look up, which he instantly regretted.

Harry saw him. He recognised the pale iridescent skin and the red eyes watching him from under dark curls. The man was sprawled out on a mound of pillows. His robes were draped artfully around him, obscuring all but a pale thigh and an expanse of smooth chest.

Harry looked enviously at the surrounding soft pink bodies. But none of them touched him. They couldn't touch him.

Voldemort raised his arm and beckoned Harry to him and Harry went.

He crawled over the silk pillows and stopped inches away from the man. Harry's eyes slid up the milky white thigh to the hard chest. He licked his lips.

"Look at me Harry."

He obeyed, and looked up at those red vertical eyes. Harry didn't need to be told what to do, he could see it in those crimson eyes, he could feel it in the heat in his groin.

Without looking away Harry gathered a corner of the silky material covering the Dark Lord into his fist and slowly pulled it down. Voldemort was perfectly flawless and smooth and hard. Voldemort smirked and leaned back invitingly. His hand ran down his hard chest, over a dusky nipple, down a taught stomach…

Harry opened his eyes. He was panting heavily, and he was achingly hard. Oh god. Snape was sitting there watching him with pitch black eyes. Harry was too dazed to be angry, and he was too hot to speak when Snape stood and shrugged off his outer robes.

"Would you go to him Harry?" Snape asked in a deep baritone. He stepped around the small table and stood before Harry looking down at him. But Harry couldn't seem to think straight, his blood was pounding in his ears.

"If the Dark Lord asked, would you go to him?" Snape growled. He leaned over Harry and tilted his chin so they were eye to eye.

"No." He groaned, but all he could feel was that Snape was touching him again and he wanted more.

"You want to defeat him don't you?" Those fingers tightened on his face, shooting sparks through his body.

Harry's body quivered. "Yes." That was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted to conquer the Dark Lord, wanted him on his knees, he wanted Voldemort to beg.

Snape closed the distance between them, but stopped just before their lips touched. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes." Harry had had enough of the games. He forced their faces together and opened his mouth to the other man, and wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him down on top of him. Snape fell into Harry's lap in a tangle of limbs and they both groaned when their groins rubbed together.

Snape devoured Harry's mouth like a starving man and Harry kissed him back just as hungrily. Hot hands crept underneath Harry's shirt and pulled it up and over his head. Harry moaned and tugged at Snapes vest and shirt. "Off." He growled.

Snape sat up and pushed Harry back. He undid the top few buttons and in one fluid motion he was bare-chested. Harry bit and licked his way across Snapes chest until the man was panting and grinding himself against Harry.

Roughly Snape fisted his hand into Harry's dark hair, angling his head back and baring his neck. Harry struggled for a moment before Snape bit into his lip hard enough to draw blood. Harry moaned wantonly and arched his hips. Heat was pooling in his belly coiling tighter and tighter.

The heat was becoming unbearable, all consuming. Harry hadn't even realised they had moved to the floor when Snape flipped him onto his stomach. He thought he was going to pass out when the man's hard length pressed against him, into him. The pain only made him harder, hotter.

Sharp fingers raked down his back and across his stomach until they came to his length. Harry arched and bucked into Snape's hand as the man pounded into him mercilessly.

The pressure built and grew; it coiled deep within and squeezed him breathless, until he was slick with sweat and panting. His fingernails dug bloody tracks into the rug. He grunted and moaned shamelessly. Snape was no better, rutting in and out of him like an animal, making guttural noises that vaguely sounded like words.

Finally, finally the heat peaked. Blood pounded in his ears like a drum. The coil snapped. Harry screamed and arched his back as he came. Pleasure washed over him like fire. Snape thrust once, twice more before he shuddered and collapsed onto Harry.

Both of them were breathing hard. Snape moved just enough to let Harry breath easier. Harry lay between Snape and the unyielding mat that cover the stone floor of the dungeons.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt nothing. He blinked long and slow. It was…nice.

--

Author's Note:

So here's chapter two, I hope everyone liked it as much as the first one…

Harry doesn't know what's happened yet but he will. Then things will fall apart for him, so stay tuned for anger and angst in the next chapter.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their alerts and favourites and whatnot. Feel free to, you know, leave a review.