Disclaimer: Not my Characters.

Disclaimer #2: Noncon.

Remus Lupin's return to the classroom was greeted with both relief and fear, relief being the majority of his students' reactions. The house of Gryffindor (a.ka. Harry, Hermoine and the various Weasleys) was ecstatic, and he couldn't help but feel pride in their response. It was a great failing of his, as he did so enjoy being liked. Fear was mainly his own reaction, as he had royally screwed up his last time at the school, and he'd dare not forget his Wolfsbane again.

Pacing the classroom one afternoon before the students returned from their winter break, he couldn't help but find his eyes being drawn to the assorted paintings of various curses. Funny, he never before noticed that the poor soul that was being Cruciated looked so much like Severus. Long, dark hair, dark eyes, wide open, tears pouring down his face while he screamed and screamed.

He shivered, and wished that once more Albus had let him take down the damn things.

I do not want to listen to Severus when he returns and he finds out that I not only replaced him as an instructor, but redid his classroom decor.

Errr… Albus… some of us really believe that he's gone back to the Dark Side… was the first comment that had immediately popped into Remus' mind.… Err…if he didn't go willingly, do you really think that there will be enough left of him to be able to bitch? had been the second.

Wisely, he had kept his mouth closed, though Albus had given him a lopsided smile, and his blue eyes had not twinkled at all as they had peered at him over Albus' half moon spectacles.

Remus, I know what you're thinking.Thank you for not saying it out loud.

Truth be told, Remus and more than a few other staff members were a bit concerned about Dumbledore and his reaction to Snape's disappearance. He was acting a bit barmy; serving Severus' favorite cake for the staff members that had been in resident, on what was Severus' birthday. Tradition demanded that there was always a special desert for the faculty on staff birthdays, and Dumbledore refused to break from the time honored ritual, though Severus' chair was now occupied by Remus Lupin.

Remus was barely able to choke down his Eccles Cake, Filius made no effort to taste it and only Hagrid and Albus consumed the delicacy with anything close to their normal enthusiasm and gusto.

"Eat," Albus commanded, his voice stern in disapproval. "Severus will be quite disappointed that he missed this. Eccle Cakes are his favorite."

Minerva took a bite of the cake, and began chewing. She nodded her head toward Filius as though encouraging him to support Albus' folly, and the Charms Instructor warily nibbled at the edge of his Eccles Cake. Filius swallowed his piece, murmured how delicious the treat had been, and then caused the desert to disappear off his plate through slight of hand.

"They're quite good, aren't they?" Albus questioned. "When Severus returns…"

There was a long moment of stunned silence, and Albus nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Very well, if…," Albus' voice held a note of censure for his staff's unwillingness to trust in Severus. "If the dear boy returns from his recent sabbatical, I will ask the House Elves to serve it his first night back."

Whatever revelations the wand had revealed after Severus had sucked on it had been happily received by captors. They had Scourgified him repeatedly until his raw, abused skin had cracked and bled, magnanimously clothed him in an oversized black robe instead of his tattered rags, and wonders of wonders, they had decided to give him a real bed.

A real bed.

With a mattress. A pillow. Blankets.

But Severus hated the bed.

As Albus would take him on the bed.

It was better than the cold floor, because at least he had some padding beneath him when Albus pounded into him at least four times a day. Albus did so enjoy a good pounding, and Severus had quickly learned the need to appear properly… enthused… when Albus arrived at his cell. If Severus was lively and quick, Dumbledore wouldn't hurt him... well… not as much…well only slightly less… then if he was fearful and afraid. It was a matter of degrees, Severus believed. His pride was tarnished enough, so selling his dignity for an easement of his physical pain was cheap coin indeed.

Albus visited him regularly both spiritually and physically.

Severus had begun to prefer the physical manifestations rather than the psychic. He hated when the glowering, transparent Albus made an appearance in his haunted dreams. One would think that after experiencing hell during his waking hours that his dreams might be slightly pleasanter.

No, the image often soundly berated him for not being more helpful.

"I can't find you, lad. Are you that angry with me?" Albus questioned, his voice full of displeasure.

"No," Severus whimpered.

The last time a similar question to that had been asked, Severus hadn't answered fast enough. He had gotten Curcio'd followed by a swift bone cracking kick to his ribs for not answering properly. So Severus knew what needed to be said.

"Never mad at Albus!Never!"

Yes, he sounded like a possessed House Elf, but proper grammar be damned if it prevented a blow from falling or a hex from being used.

He put his hands over his face in a feeble attempt to hide from the angry Albus.

If I can't see him, Albus can't see me! His shattered psyche insisted though logically, he knew it was a fallacy. But since he was now surviving on sheer adrenalin and not much else; his thinking was not as logical as it had once been.

"If you were taken unwillingly, wouldn't you be making an effort to escape?" Albus questioned. "I am not sensing any magical disturbance that might convince me that you are an unwilling captive."

"I tried… I tried… I tried…"He pleaded for Albus to believe him, his voice cracking in his sincerity. "I can't… my magic… my wand…They hurt me so…"

His first desperate attempt at escape had spectacularly failed. Severus had somehow overpowered Albus, grabbed the imposter's wand and shouted, Incarcerous!

The expected ropes had failed to materialized, and even as he was still screaming the curse over and over again, the original faux Albus and several more fake Albuses had overpowered him. It had been a trap, he later realized, because he doubted that they had five polyjuiced Albuses standing around waiting for such an occurrence. They had deliberately arranged the scene, so he'd know that his magical ability had been compromised.

"You're a kinky bugger, Severus. I never knew you like ropes so much," said the Albus in a bright, scarlet outfit.

The Albuses had meticulously restrained him and then they had repeatedly ridden him while he whimpered and screamed. When they had their pleasure, they then had left him in the dark. Naturally, Severus had panicked, as he feared being confined and restrained.

He was easy prey.

They'd find him; Lupin, Potter, Pettigrew and that cur Black, hurt him and Albus would just shrug it off with a condescending, 'Boys will be boys, Mr. Snape'. His capturers had left him hogtied for hours… days perhaps, and by the time they had returned to release him, physically, he had only succeeded in further tightening the knots due to his frenzied attempts to escape. Mentally, Severus had realized how close he was to completely cracking up.

"I know you don't believe me, I tried, I tried so hard, Headmaster," Severus earnestly pleaded to the stern Headmaster. "Why don't you ever believe me? I was avoiding those damnable Marauders… like you told me to do… and they found me…I was hiding in the library, and they found me! They tore my books! My books! My mother will beat me because she can't afford to replace them! "

Severus realized that once again he was getting quite confused between the past, the present and the future, what had happened and what would happen. He began giggling, and he couldn't stop even as he began to weep.

"Why don't you ever protect me,Headmaster?" He reached for Albus, his voice beseeching, and then Severus pulled his hand away.

Never touch Albus. He was not worthy to touch Albus.

His dream Albus reacted strangely, and the phantom knelt down next to him. With a curiously gentle gesture, Albus gently stroked his tearstained cheek.

"Easy, lad. I'll replace the books," Albus promised. "Don't you worry about them."

"You will?" Severus intently questioned, plainly disbelieving his good fortune.

"Yes. We had Eccles cakes tonight, Severus. For your birthday, you know. I'm afraid that most of the staff members think I'm quite barmy for celebrating your birthday, but it wouldn't beproper to let your birthday go by unremarked and unnoticed. I know you're alive, Severus," Albus admitted. "I must confess my rather daft belief to you, that in these bizarre conversations of ours, I'm actually talking to you."

"Eccles cakes?" Severus's voice quivered slightly. His mouth watered at the very idea of that tasty treat.

"Yes, for your birthday, Severus," Albus reminded him.

"My mother made them for me… when I was good," Severus slowly admitted. They had been the rarest of treats as he was such a wicked, wicked boy!

"Oh lad, you've been so good. When I find you, and I bring you home, everyone at Hogwarts will have Eccles cakes to celebrate," softly promised Albus.

"Not Potter," Severus childishly insisted. "Just the Slytherins. They can have Eccles cakes."

"You don't want everyone to have Eccles Cakes to celebrate your return?" Albus gently questioned.

"No, just Slytherins…. " Severus doggedly insisted. "Everyone will be jealous, as the Slytherins got Eccles cakes and they didn't. Everyone will know that you like us, too."

"Severus, do you truly believe that I don't care about my Slytherins?" The Headmaster's voice was soft when he asked that question.

"If you truly cared, you wouldn't let them hurt me," Severus stated. He glared at Albus' visage and then added his final accusation. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"Severus, how are you being hurt?" Albus questioned.

The phantom put his phantom hand on Severus' shoulder and gently rubbed it.

The Slytherin shook his head, refusing to answer. His attempts at avoiding the question upset his spirit Albus, and so the phantom Headmaster doggedly continued to press the issue. Severus attempted to evade, dissemble, dither and quibble, but at last, he revealed what physical and magic abuse he was currently experiencing at Albus' hand and wand.

Again, he raised his hands to cover his face, in a futile attempt to protect himself from Albus' magic. The Headmaster would be so angry at him for his lies, because good Headmasters never physically and sexually abused their students, especially not Albus Dumbledore. Head Master Dumbledore would be furious and naturally, he'd hurt Severus for repeating such horrible, horrific lies.

Maybe he'd even expel Severus.

"My dear, dear boy," Albus softly whispered. "Oh my dear, dear boy."

Severus hesitantly looked at Albus, peering at the headmaster from behind his fingers of his hands and the Slytherin was horrified to realize that his ghost was weeping.

"I know it's not you," Severus insisted. "You were gentle with me… weren't you? I think you were… but I can't truly remember. Did we? Were we?"

His Albus had been gentle with him… hadn't he? He couldn't remember. Hadn't his Albus been so disappointed in what a wicked person he was? Hadn't he sent Severus away because of the Slytherin's impudence?

"Yes, we made love, Severus," Albus admitted. "Only the one time, I'm afraid, on Christmas night. You were so intense and determined to focus on only my enjoyment. I didn't merit such a precious gift from you."

Albus began stroking Severus' long, greasy hair, and Severus began shaking in fear.

His Albus…no…Albus wasn't his…never his… the real Albus had never touched him like this.

"Get away, spirit!" Severus screamed. "You're not Albus. You're not him! Think you can fool me, Lucius, with your honeyed tongue, your promises of Eccles cakes? You are NOT him!"

"Severus, I am Albus," the vision insisted.

"You may be Albus, but you are not the true Albus, Goyle! He cares not one speck for me. I am atool to him. A tool is made to be used. Once broken, a tool is discarded and is easily replaced! I was a tool to Albus. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You were never just a tool to me, Severus Tobias Snape. You weren't only an instrument in my war, nor were you a device for my own sexual gratification," Albus insisted. "If I believed that you were merely a tool, I would never have taken you to my bed. You wanted me to use you and I tried to reassure you that you were worthy of far more than continual abuse and more exploitation."

"Not Albus!" Severus insisted. His voice grew frantic, and he began clawing at his face. "Not! Not!Not!"

"You are a stubborn git, Severus Snape," Albus snapped. "Not a tool, Severus, but a stubborn, obstinate man. There's no crime in that, yet your prison is of your own making."

Severus began loudly screaming, "Not Albus! NOT ALBUS!" and there were sounds outside of his cell door. The guards were returning to investigate the noise, and Severus began to panic. "Go! GO! If they find you here, they'll HURT YOU!"

Albus stared at him, and Severus pleaded with him to leave.

"They'll hurt you, Albus! They'll hurt you! Go! Go!"

Albus woke from his dreams with a start. Looking at the clock on the wall, he pondered if it was too late to Floo call Minerva for a chat. It was, but to hell with it, he was the Head Master of the school. Rank had some privileges, though not many.

He flew the Floo powder into the floo, and called for Minerva.

"Albus, do you any comprehension of what time it is?" Minerva's voice snippily asked from the green fire.

"Minerva, I need to talk. I just had the strangest dream, and I believe that I just told off Severus Snape."

"I'll be there in just a minute. Call for tea, Albus."

His guards had been furious with him, and so they had Cursed him repeatedly. When he stopped screaming, their fun was over. They so enjoyed hearing him scream, and when they reduced him to a weeping wreck, they knew that would be no more entertainment from the shattered shell of Severus Snape. With a disgusted sigh, and a final, sharp kick to his healing ribs, the guards left him.

Severus continued to sob for a bit, and then pulled himself over to his bed. He still had his special sock hidden away and he quickly confirmed that it was still there in its secret place. His shaking hands took it out of its hiding spot, stroked it for reassurance that it was real, and then he put it away.

It was his present from Albus, and he needed to keep it safe.

Albus gave out socks and scarves to Slytherins. Nothing more.

Yes, Severus decided. They had almost impersonated Albus too well that he had been fooled. But they had gone too far in their impersonation of Albus, and had crossed a line that had revealed their duplicity.

The Real Albus had never stroked his hair nor had he ever petted and caressed Severus. Not even on that special Christmas night had Albus done such a thing.

When Severus was a young student at Hogwarts, he had craved that intimate contact long before he had comprehended the true meaning of painful taunts such as queer, gay, pillow biter.

When at last true understanding regarding his sexuality had been his, Severus' desire for Albus' touch had unwaveringly endured, but yet it still had changed. It was no longer something of which to be ashamed; it was not a disgraceful desire that he could only crave when he was at his weakest. Men could and did have sex with other men.

And during the long, lonely nights spent in his bed in the Slytherin dorms, a small, nagging voice wondered if such men included … Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…

But he was a student, and Albus a man of principle, so there was never the faintest whiff of impropriety.

When he had returned to Hogwarts as an instructor, Severus had wondered if perhaps then, if Albus was so inclined, he might see that the boy had become a man. A grown man possessing unique tastes and desires, who had been thoroughly educated in various sexual techniques that might prove highly pleasurable to even such a worldly man as Albus.

Sometimes, during a staff meeting, when Albus was busy being Albus, Severus couldn't prevent himself from longingly staring. Albus wasn't particularly handsome; his taste in robes was sometimes wincingly bad and his body was… soft… but he was so compassionate, so caring….

And Severus had pondered what would it be like to bed Albus.

No doubt Albus had gentle, deft hands, but would the Gryffindor ever willingly lower himself to bed a lonely Slytherin?

Well, it matter not at all to Severus if Albus touched him, because he would willingly focus on Albus' complete gratification. In his foolishness, in his arrogance, Severus had thought that if Albus ever did take him to his bed, that the Head Master would enjoy his well honed technique. Perhaps, if his sexual performance and stamina sufficiently impressed Albus… perhaps Albus would look more favorably upon the man than he had upon the student.

Yet, when the long hoped for moment had finally arrived, Albus had to take a nervous Severus by the hand… Albus had to soothe and reassure… Albushad been the one to kiss and touch.

Severus had a tendency of taking a particular chair in a dark corner, far away from the other instructors, so his yearning was hidden by shadows… or so he thought, until that one horrible day when Minerva had glanced his way, and she had realized the truth.

Instead of mocking him and his foolishness, Minerva had taken pity on him, and had brought him to her quarters. Just for a finger or two of scotch after a long meeting, she had claimed.

Effortlessly, she had seduced him, leaving him stunned and astonished by that particular experience.

Severus had long since accepted the unmistakable fact that he was homosexual. He didn't like women that way, and Minerva McGonagall, bastion of Gryffindor Values, was far too terrifying a figure to for him to ever imagine her undressed. Yet Minerva had gently led him through the experience, allowing him to keep his young, foolish pride intact while she ensured that both got their enjoyment. In that magical interlude, he had realized that the witch was, in fact, breathtakingly beautiful, inside and out.

Later in the afterglow, he had lain in her arms, and he had been feeling… awkward… over what had occurred, Minerva had known exactly how to put him at ease. The witch gently stroked his long, black hair and then Minerva had thanked him, THANKED him, for a wonderful experience.

"Tomorrow, we'll go back to our usual facades," she had insisted. "You'll skulk through the castle, with your black robes billowing behind you, frightening our little first years. Meanwhile, I'll be the prissy old maid. We'll mock and scorn each other, while everyone wishes that we'd just get along."

"I don't want to go back to that," he whispered.

"We won't, dear heart, not when we're together like this," she promised. "But… outside this room, nothing can change."

He had almost fallen asleep when Minerva McGonagall had spoken again.

"Don't fall in love with him, Severus. You'll only end with your heart broken." Her voice was tender and compassionate, free from the ridicule he feared.

Severus had stiffened, and she had continued to stroke his hair. Then Minerva leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Albus has his war to fight, you know. He doesn't allow himself the luxury of human emotions. Loving Albus… is like loving the sea, Severus. You can't help but love the sea, but it takes no notice of you," Minerva softly explained. "It took me a great deal of time to realize that."

Her confession surprised him, and she had kissed him again.

"Don't worry; he doesn't know how you feel. He's rather dull-witted like that," Minerva gently explained.

"Just once," he whispered, unable to hide his longing. He was the epitome of rudeness, admitting that he desired someone else even while he lay in Minerva's loving arms. "Just once…"

"I know, I know. My lonely little Slytherin wishes for one special night with Albus…" her voice was soothing.

"No, I wish that just once I knew that he cared for me…" Severus slowly admitted.

"Hedoes," Minerva insisted.

"No, not like he cares for his Golden Gryffindors… Just once… just once…" Severus confessed. "I'd thought once that I could earn his regard. After all I had protected that damnable Potter and his friends from Lupin. I had warned him that the werewolf was dangerous. I knew he couldn't be trusted to take his Wolfsbane. I defended them against that…."

He paused and Minerva continued to stroke his hair.

"Then, that damnable Sirius Black was captured. I thought then….that I HAD earned his regard. I helped capture the man who had betrayed Lily. I was to be given the Order of Merlin. My mother… my mother…" His voice grew shaky and he paused before he continued. "She would have been so proud. I could have taken back the shame I inflicted on her by the stupidity of my youth…"

"He didn't care… you know… Lupin attempted to murder me once again… and Albus didn't spare me the slightest concern…" Severus' voice broke and he stopped talking. "When the Dark Lord kills me… Albus won't care. He'll have to find a new spy… and then… only then… will he at last, appreciate his Severus' undying loyalty. Perhaps then, he might care."

"He does care, Severus," Minerva insisted.

"Not for me," whispered Severus. "Never for me."

In his prison cell, Severus Snape realized anew that the lonely little boy with dark hungry eyes should have been content with socks and scarves. He never should have dreamed for more.

Albus recited his experience to Minerva, detailing every subtle nuance. The witch listened dispassionately, until he explained how Severus was being abused.

"He says that you… sodomized… him?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Among other indecencies," Albus admitted slowly. "At some parts in our conversation, he seemed quite convinced it was me that was abusing him. Other times, Severus claimed it wasn't."

"You said that he seemed disorientated?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes, he seemed confused exactly when it was. He'd talk about the Marauders, what they had done to him as though it just happened, and then he mentioned Christmas night. He was uncertain if what occurred between us…" Albus stopped talking and shook his head.

"It was consensual," Minerva inserted. "I also know that you wouldn't hurt the boy."

Albus sighed, and looked away from her.

"Thank you for your faith in me. I don't feel it is very well earned," Albus quietly stated.

"You have said nothing to me that can convince me that you did talk to him. This sounds like a very bad dream, Albus. Nothing more," Minerva decided. "Your dream eye is fixated on current events, so that is what you are dreaming."

"I didn't mention the Eccles cakes," Albus whispered. "I told him that when he returned, everyone would have Eccles cakes for desert."

Minerva quirked one eyebrow.

"As he missed his birthday desert, I thought it only fair. He requested that only the Slytherins be given the treat." Albus paused, gathering his courage before he continued.

"And?" Minerva prompted. "How did he say it?"

"Everyone will be jealous, as the Slytherins got Eccles cakes and they didn't. Everyone will know that you like us, too," quoted Albus.

"Merlin's beard," Minerva whispered. "You spoke to him. But what is the rhyme and reason behind this? If He Who Must Not Be Named knew Severus betrayed him, he wouldn't be keeping him alive. His magic isn't readily available to him, so the loss could be temporarily due to the shock and trauma of what he's experienced…"

"He'd be dead by now," Albus agreed. "He's not using Severus as an example, either. It's just deliberate, systematic torture of Severus using my countenance. I wish I knew what evil Tom was crafting."

The next morning started off much like every other morning. A rather thorough pounding by Albus which left him sore and aching.

After his violation was concluded and Albus finally had his pleasurable release, the faux Albus ran his fingers through Severus' long, greasy hair, petting him and caressing him. He kissed and fondled Severus, softly whispering about what a horrid little boy Severus was, and how Dumbledore truly regretted punishing him, but it would only stop if Severus made an effort to behave better!

"Oh, my dear Severus, I care so much for you," the artificial Albus assured him. "You do know that I care?"

"Yes," Severus swiftly agreed, for failure to quickly answer this particular question meant pain. "You care."

The sham Albus continued to stroke his hair, and then Albus kissed him on his cheek.

"My dear, dear boy," Albus whispered. "Even though you're such a wicked boy, I do love you… so I've decided to give you a very special present."

"Don't deserve… present..." Severus fearfully insisted, this was part of a far too familiar conversation that he always had with the physical Albus. "I'm….bad…"

"Don't be nervous, Severus. It's a wonderful, astonishing present! Can you guess what it is?" Albus questioned. His blue eyes were twinkling in delighted amusement.

If he didn't answer a question, they'd definitely Crucio him, so he attempted to quickly answer.

"Is it… socks?" He whispered, his hoarse voice cracking. "I like socks."

"SOCKS! No…no…it's something very special indeed! Guess again, my dear boy!"

"…Scarf?" Severus mouthed.

"Socks… scarf? I think not! Not for my special, special Severus. It's a wonderful present, and I can't wait to see your face when you realize what it is. I will be so pleased then because every time I look at you, I'll know that I was the one that loved you enough to give such a special, exceptional gift to you," Albus promised.

Albus continued stroking his hair, and then sternly chastised him for not eating.

It was always Albus who fed him, who at all times acted as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be in Severus' prison cell. It was strange, Severus thought, that the Dark Lord was going through all this trouble with him. By rights, he should have been dead by now, for the Dark Lord was notoriously short fused with those that he believed that had betrayed him.

"Now eat." Albus demanded.

Severus shook his head.

"Come now, my dear, sweet Severus. It's very important to me that you're healthy!" The faux Albus insisted.

"I feel… queasy…" Severus protested. The previous meal had disagreed with him, and he had been fearful of vomiting. "I'm not hungry."

"Do you?" Albus grinned. "You feel sick to your stomach?"

Severus nodded his head.

"My poor, poor boy," Albus stated softly. "I'll bring you crackers next time. But at least, drink your juice, my dear boy. It's very important that you're healthy."

Albus softly laughed, and Severus nervously smiled.

"It's exceedingly imperative that you stay in the pink, Severus."