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Walking in Hell	By : erin03 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11872 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter One - Setting the Stage.
- 2-Chapter Two - A new sort of hell.
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Walking in Hell by Erin03
Disclaimer: - I do not own these characters; I am making no profit from this. This fiction is not meant to cause any offence. This fiction does contain male/male slash, therefore if this isn�t your cuppa, then don�t proceed. Btw this is also my first time writing slash, so bare with me please!
Chapter One: - Setting the Stage.
It wasn�t what he wanted. It was never what he wanted. It had been a dreary night when Dumbledore was supposedly murdered; and everything Harry had known had gone to hell in a hand basket.

Trying to calm himself down he looked into the sky, only to see one particular star shining so brightly that he felt he was being mocked.
The Dog Star twinkled and winked at him. Wondering briefly what Sirius would have said about his current predicament he decided that the man would not have been pleased. His Godfather would have been enraged and disgusted. He would have disowned Harry, and killed� well for now we shall just say that he would have killed Harry�s captor, his master.
The man who now ruled his life like the ardent and vilified dictator he was.
He would have cheated Harry of his revenge, for he had sworn to
Merlin that he would have his revenge one day, once he was able to get this accursed bracelet off.
The band of gold encumbered his right wrist. His wand hand. Peering at it Harry could faintly see runes etched into the gold, glittering eerily. He knew instinctively that the runes were important; and that he was completely out of his depth.
Harry knew that the band signified something momentous, that it branded him as his captor�s property. He could do nothing to remove it. It was carefully buckled and locked into place until his captor decided otherwise. It took the only thing that had made him feel real away. It chained his magic to him, making him nothing more than a Squib until it was removed. He felt his magic being chained to him. It burned, enraged in the pits of his soul, looking for an outlet which was being denied. It frustrated him to feel as helpless as he had always been against the Dursley�s constant belittlement and abuse.
He had been here for a month, locked in this one bedroom. His captor had knocked him out, placed this damned bracelet around his wrist and left.
The only snippets of news that Harry had heard since his imprisonment were the murmurings that Dumbledore wasn�t quite as dead as everyone had believed him to be. It had been a year since he had fallen, struck by one of the men that he had nurtured, saved� trusted. Harry knew this because of the angry ranting his captor indulged himself in. The man was so enraged that Harry could hear him from whatever room he occupied in the house.
Harry had yet to find out what was in store for him. He did not yet know what his captor wanted of him.
One thing was for certain; he knew it could not be anything good. The man was evil personified, and he had hated Harry since the day of his conception. Harry shuddered suddenly feeling as trapped and as helpless as a newborn baby.
~~~~~~~~~~
Harry looked around the room that had been given to him. It was decorated in Midnight blue, the white carpet was worn and Harry could see suspicious stains adorning it in random places. Stains that didn�t bode well for Harry, for he knew that the marks had been created by blood leaking onto the carpet. He shivered. The room was never quite warm, but not freezing chilling either. He wondered briefly who else had been confined to this space before moving his gaze around the room idly.
A wardrobe stood on one side of the room, filled with old clothes that had been designated for Harry. The wardrobe itself had probably once been a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. Towering sturdily, displayed as pride of place against the wall. Now however it looked battered and bruised, vague resembling a hunchback backing away from further scrutiny, ashamed of its blatant neglect, afraid of sustaining more abuse.
The desk barely stood upright bending under the lightweight of a small silver lamp, several rolls of parchment, two quills and an inkwell.
The bed Harry sat on was the only decent bit of furniture to adorn the room. This in itself made Harry feel uneasy, he felt that it was decidedly odd that a brand new bed, with new sheets would be placed in a room that positively screamed neglect.
It was a four-poster, very comfortable with a navy blue comforter and white pillows. A fluffy rug lay in front of the fire grate, which was burning steadily. He shivered as a draft hit him, making a bead of sweat drip down his spine. He wondered if anyone had died in this room? The air was stifled, the warmth of the fire never wafted over him, no matter how close he sat next to it.
All in all, this was not a happy atmosphere.
~~~~~~~~~~
�I�ve told you before you stupid little bastard so listen carefully. Potter is my insurance piece. You�ve heard the rumours! They say Dumbledore is alive which should be impossible because I am alive, but if he has found a way� if the barmy old codger had something up his sleeve, and all is not how it seems, then I can buy my way out of death by handing him over.�
The shouting had begun again. Harry sighed knowing that it would carry on for a good while. A haunting reminded of what he had not yet faced, and a promise of what was to come. His jailer had yet to show his face again.
�I�ll have you know that my parents were married when I was conceived so therefore I would appreciate it if you stopped slandering my good name you filthy half breed!� A cool voice rang out in response to the slander.

Harry knew that priggish, sulking drawl, but he had yet to figure out where the person fit into the plan.
�Why you little prick! How dare you speak to me like that! You�re forgetting your rank Draco!� his captor snapped.
��And on another subject, am I to believe that the Dark Lord is content for our guest to remain here, in your property?� Draco asked. Harry thought he sounded rather smug with himself.
�Don�t you dare assume to blackmail me Malfoy! You�re far from being adept at that particular skill! And you forget that you�re playing with the big boys now, you have no father to fall back upon, and I am not as naive as Potter and his band of merry Gryffindor�s. However for your piece of mind our Master suggested it, knowing my preference. He thought that a solution could be found to my defection before he had the pleasure of killing the boy.�
�Oh and I�m sure Potter will love that! I�m sure he�ll allow you to shove�� Harry would never know what the boy was about to say Draco Malfoy was for once in his life cut off mid sentence and then put in his place.
�Enough Malfoy. I grow weary of your idiotic arguments! You neither have the mental ability or the skill to outmanoeuvre me. Go to bed before I force you from my presence.�
Harry shifted uneasily on the bed. No, whatever was coming to him he was sure to despise and hate it. He looked at the door which led to his own private bathroom wondering if he really wanted to get out of bed and to have a shower or not.
He sniffed attentively at his armpit and withdrew quickly. Yes he needed a shower; he was ripe, a week�s worth of sweat was not a pleasant smell.
~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sighed when he looked in the mirror. He was very pale through lack of any direct sunlight, bags adorned his dull green eyes and he had lost a little bit of weight through anxiety. That being said, it meant that he could not eat the food that was given to him without being sick.
He towelled his hair dry, and when it was only slightly damp he desisted his efforts and combed it. It still wouldn�t lay flat. The mirror tutted.
�You look like you were dragged through a hedge backwards deary,� it remarked surveying him. But Harry�s temper had not improved through being confined. In fact it had become worse.
�And what would you know? Fuck off and leave me alone!� he snapped, wrapping a towel around his waist and walking back into the bedroom. He pulled out some clothes and heard a rustling noise behind him.
�Get dressed quickly Potter we have something to discuss.� A sharp voice said impatiently making Harry jump slightly with fright.
Harry blinked and looked towards the noise, squinting. He had left his glasses in the bathroom and therefore he had not seen the man sitting on his bed. The black robes he wore seeming to camouflage him against the bedspread.
Harry blinked again and thought how lucky he was to have remembered to wrap a towel around his waist. He usually didn�t bother.
�Well?� the voice bit into him impatiently, �Do I really have to punish you for your stupidity? Have you gone mute in the last month with no crowds to praise and admire you? Or are you simply modelling your behaviour on your father? I daresay he never had an intellectual thought in his short life either Potter, so I wouldn�t feel too disheartened. I hear stupidity is a common Potter family trait passed on from father to son.�
~End ch1~~~~

Bit short but will improve.

R/R what do you think?
AN: - This chapter has been edited, I wasn't happy with the original! I've beefed it up a bit! Doing the same with the next chapter, what do you think of the change? I've included more details and hopefully improved the spelling and grammar.
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Walking in Hell