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Nights of Gethsemane	By : starcrossedkayla Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 53273 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 9
- 10
- 11
Food had been laid out for Harry when he woke the next morning, but he didn't feel hungry. He sat on the end of his bed and waited for Snape. When Snape arrived, he looked at the Death Eater though the bars and said, "I read the book."

Snape nodded, obviously understanding which book Harry had read. "I had originally intended to give it to you to read later. Did you understand it?"

Harry chewed on his lip as he thought. He was still very angry and part of him wanted to make Snape come into the room so that he could beat him senseless, but he had been so angry for the past three days, that he was emotionally and physically exhausted. He hated Snape and he wanted to kill him, but he also wanted him to explain. "I think so. There were a lot of words I didn't know. But . . . Billy is a handsome soldier who is very innocent. He ends up on a ship with Captain Vere and Claggart, who hates him for some reason. Claggart accuses Billy of mutiny and Billy hits Claggart and kills him. Vere says that Billy has to be hanged because of the law and they hang Billy." He thought he understood that it was all a metaphor and he was Billy; Snape, Vere; and Avery, Claggart.

Snape nodded. "It may be helpful to understand that Billy was completely innocent in killing Claggart." He moved closer to the bars. "Captain Vere did not want to execute Billy. He hated what he had done to Billy until the day he died. He had no knowledge of Claggart's ill will towards Billy and desperately wished he had known of it earlier so that he could have protected Billy rather than harming him. As it was, Claggart's actions forced him to take a path he never would have embarked on if left entirely up to him. You may blame Vere for the death of Billy, but I blame Claggart because he forced Vere to hurt Billy."
Harry looked up at Snape. "So you-"

Snape held up his hand to stop him from continuing. "I'd still like to test your reading comprehension before we speak about this further."

Harry frowned in confusion. Wasn't Snape testing his reading comprehension now? Then, as if struck with lightning, he figured it out. Snape was talking about his Occlumency. He wasn't convinced Harry had perfected it yet. Harry nodded to show Snape he understood the hidden message and that they had to talk only about the book.

"I still don�t think what he did was right," Harry said quietly. "He could've helped Billy.There must have been something else he could've done to Billy besides . . . killing him." He tightened his fists. "It's his fault that Billy died."

"While I agree with you that what Vere allowed wasn't right, did he really have a choice?" asked Snape, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "The law was very specific in its instructions and Vere did not know if he had an actual possible mutiny on his hands, or if Claggart was lying completely. Even if there hadn't been one planned, allowing a man who killed a superior officer to escape the punishment ordered by the law would probably give possible mutineers courage and would have destabilised order. You must remember that a ship is a very different environment than a typical one, and individuals involved must play certain parts that they don�t wish to play in order to prevent actions which would undoubtedly result in total destruction."

Snape continued, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. "I believe that what Vere did was necessary in his particular situation. Melville's work is often interpreted as Vere failing Billy by his focus on law, order, and reason, instead of following his own heart. Vere is often seen as neglecting his true duty in critiques of this work. While I believe that it is important to not be so tied up by the letter of the law that we neglect to do what is morally right in most circumstances, I believe that in times of war and other conflict, it is sometimes necessary to perform actions which are morally repugnant." He stepped closer to Harry as he spoke the last part. Harry had the feeling he was talking about more than just the rape.

After a pause, Snape continued, "This is part of why I believe that the �perfect hero� is an unobtainable ideal. Not that one would consider Captain Vere or any other persons associated with him to be heroic, but duty and morality become conflicted for any soldier, much less a heroic one. Have you understood what I've said thus far?�

Harry nodded. "I think so. It's very different from what I've always been told. I thought heroes had to try to always do what is right."

"I should think that they would try to avoid doing things which are objectionable as much as possible but also be prepared to commit the worst sin imaginable if it means that a much greater good would prevail." Snape released the bars and took a step back. "If you take anything else from the book, then realise why Billy was destroyed. He was too innocent and unable to see evil when everyone around him was pointing it out to him."

"I don't think I can really be considered innocent anymore." Harry shook his head.

"You are not nearly as innocent as Billy, but some still remains in you. I trust you have learned by now to recognize evil and would recognise a need to destroy it before it destroys you."

"Yeah." Harry unclenched his fists. He knew he needed to take care of Voldemort and Snape. "I think I got that down."

"You should take a bath now," Snape suggested. "Your sheets need to be changed and your cage hasn't been cleaned in a while."

"Okay." Harry stood up and walked over to the bars away from where Snape stood. Snape opened two away from him and Harry slipped through, avoiding him as much as possible. He went straight into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He knew it wouldn't stop Snape from coming in, but hoped that he would stay away until Harry was completely covered by bubbles. Pouring in the entire bottle, Harry made a layer nearly as long as his arm. Soaking in the warm water, he leant back against the tub and tried to relax.

He wasn't sure what to think about Snape. A lot of what Snape said suggested that he didn't want to hurt Harry and never would have raped him had Avery not tried. He'd never shown that inclination towards Harry before that awful moment in the throne room, but he could've been waiting for the right moment. Either way, Harry couldn't forgive him for what he did. Even if Snape had only done it to stop Avery, then he should've found some other way to stop Avery besides raping Harry himself. It didn't make sense that rape was the only way to protect him.
He could see Snape in Vere, who was described as having tons of books and being very straight-laced. He also saw that Snape viewed him as Billy, although he doubted the Death Eater thought he was beautiful as the soldiers had done with Billy. Once again, his world had been turned upside down and he didn't know what to do. He wished again that Hermione and Ron were with him. Hermione would know what to do. She would read all those confusing books and be able to figure what Snape was playing at. Ron would tell him what moves he needed to make in order to win.

Harry stayed in the tub until the water went cold. He was thinking of seeing how long he could stay in the bathroom, but then he realised that Snape would enter it to fetch him eventually, and he didn't want to be naked around the Death Eater. Climbing out of the tub, he quickly dried himself off, putting on his bottoms as fast as he could. He investigated the bathroom, searching for items to use to escape, but there was nothing he could break off or manipulate. He could break the mirror and hide a piece of glass. However, he doubted Snape would fall for the same trick twice. More importantly, he had nothing to break the mirror with other than his fist and he wasn't going to try to break it unless he was sure he'd be able to shatter it before Snape heard and stepped into the room. Finally, he tried again to get into the spelled cabinet. When it remained firmly closed despite everything he did, he left the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around his shoulders. His cell had been completely cleaned, except for the food which still remained on the table. Snape was placing something black on Harry's bed.

Harry motioned to the third door at the end of the hall as he stepped back through the bars. "What's in the room we've never gone in?"

"The laundry," answered Snape as he exited the cell well away from Harry.

"Am I ever going to see the house-elves? I'm not going to give them my clothes."

"Excuse me?" Snape's eyebrows moved as he frowned.

"The house-elves you have." Harry sat down to eat. "You said that you didn't want me giving them clothes."

There was a pause before Snape answered, "You won't see house elves here." He left.

What a git. Why did he have to keep his house elves private? Harry just wanted someone else to talk to besides Snape. He looked over his meal, which was salmon in a rich, creamy white sauce, and roast potatoes. The desert was a piece of apple pie with warm apples spilling out of a crisp crust. A dash of whipped cream rested on top of it and Harry snared his finger through it, licking it off slowly. It tasted like heaven, and he ate his desert first before finishing off his meal.

After breakfast, he followed his morning routine. He was brushing his teeth when he suddenly realised that he hadn't had a razor near him and his chin was hairless as ever. He had no idea how long he had been held captive, but it was several weeks at the very least. It was very strange that he hadn't even grown a smattering of facial hair. Was Snape shaving him in his sleep? That was a scary thought.

He returned to his bed where he discovered that Snape had given him a jumper. It was soft and the arms had been hemmed so they stopped at his wrists. As he pulled it over his head, it reminded him of the jumpers Mrs. Weasley always knit for him. A very sick feeling developed in his stomach as he thought of everyone who was counting on him to destroy Voldemort. He had to figure out a way to get rid of him even while trapped in this prison. Otherwise everything would be lost.

He lay in his bed and tried to figure out how the hell he was going to kill Voldemort. He had no access to magic, no wand, no way of knowing if the other Horcruxes were destroyed or still intact, no idea if his friends were still alive and helping him, and no idea where he was being held. He couldn't imagine a worse predicament in which to find himself. How was he, basically made into a Squib, going to defeat one of the most powerful Dark wizards who ever lived? He needed to escape and get the damned cuffs off his arms. If the cuffs were removed at least he had a chance of summoning some of that accidental magic. Maybe he could blow up Voldemort like he did Aunt Marge, only this time he couldn't stop until Voldemort exploded like a popped balloon.

Had Voldemort re-hidden his Horcruxes now that he knew they were being hunted? That was probably why he had begun Occlumency against Harry, but if that were so, why maintain it? What did he fear Harry knowing? Had he gone after Ron and Hermione or did he assume that Harry's friends hadn't known what Harry was doing? Maybe the reason they hadn't rescued him yet was because they were on the run and now at the top of the Undesirables list.
When he realised that he had managed to make more questions than answers, he decided to retrieve what remained of the myth book. He pulled it out from under the mattress and opened it to one of the remaining stories at random.

The story of poor Philomela tugged at his heart. Like Harry, Philomela had been kidnapped, locked in a prison, and raped. Philomela's attacker had cut out her tongue so she couldn't speak of what he had done to her. She had taken her revenge by weaving a tapestry that depicted her attack and sending it to her sister, for the rapist was her brother-in-law. The sister killed her own son and served it to her rapist husband for revenge. Harry thought the idea of killing the son for the sin of the father a bit odd, but Philomela was quite creative. He couldn't sew but perhaps he could get a letter out some other way.

Harry sat up and looked around his cell. He had paper but no pen. He could cut out the letters, but he'd need glue to attach them to another piece of paper. He glanced over at his sink. Toothpaste! He ran over and grabbed up the small tube. Carrying it back to the bed as if it were an offering to a god, he picked up a sheet of Billy Budd and tore off a small corner. He carefully smeared toothpaste on the piece and then stuck it to another page. He turned the page upside down and nearly fell off the bed in excitement when it stuck. Now all he had to do was wait and see if they still remained fixed after the paper had dried. The letters were pretty small and he wasn't going to waste time making a message if the thing fell apart later. Then again, Hermione was so clever he could probably give her all the letters independently and she'd figure out how to put them together in the right order as long as he used unique words. He should ask Snape for help in composing it; the git knew all sorts of unusual words.

Feeling giddy, Harry put the pieces of Billy Budd back on the floor. He hadn't figured out how he was going to get the letter out of the house yet, but he didn't let that get his mood down. He had always been very good at improvising.

Snape normally came twice a day and Harry expected the second visit soon based on the amount of time he thought had passed between the visits on the previous days. From his experience with the Dursleys, he had learned to judge the passing of time while confined, and he could do it fairly well, although he was far from exact. With the sleeping potions he had been given, he couldn't be sure how long he had been held captive but guessed it had been a period of more than three weeks but less than two months. The days were easier to figure out and Harry imagined it was about six pm on the internal clock he had developed. Snape normally arrived about that time, although on some days he didn't show up and that usually meant a Voldemort visit.

He pressed his ear against the wall and waited. After a short period, he heard Snape on the steps. The Death Eater was very quiet, but two of the steps squeaked softly. He pictured Snape passing through the library in his mind and stood up to grip his cell bars. The library door opened and Snape stepped through into the hallway. Snape paused when he saw Harry, an eyebrow arching.

"Did you need something?" asked Snape as he strode over.

"D'you have an owl?"

Snape's eyebrows drew inward toward the crease. "Of course I do, why?"

"I was just wondering how you knew when the Death Eaters were going to show up and who would be torturing me and stuff. I've never seen an owl," said Harry as casually as he could.

"I wouldn�t keep it in the cellar," Snape pointed out.

"So you do owl each other?" Harry persisted.

Snape's eyebrows moved and Harry could tell that if he had been able to make out more of Snape's face clearly the Death Eater would be wondering if Harry had snapped. He stepped into the cell several paces away from Harry and walked over to the table.

"Yes, in addition to personal messengers." He tapped the table with his wand and then left, his path longer than necessary as he avoided stepping near Harry.

"And they send you an owl so you know the date and who is going to do it?" Harry walked over to sit down.

"No, I have surmised who will win the privilege of torturing you by keeping myself informed about the various acts each Death Eater has performed in order to estimate which one has gained the most favour. If you are trying to ask who will be next, then I believe it will be Bellatrix." Snape tucked his wand back in his robes.

"Aren't you worried that the Order will take your messages if you send them by owl?" Harry pulled the thick stew towards himself.

"We use codes, but they probably aren't necessary. The Order is not nearly as well organised as we are, and far too many owls travel to try to collect them all. The Dark Lord never sends anything important by owl anyway, as it is far too insecure."

"I'd like to see your owl sometime." Harry ate his beef stew slowly. "I miss Hedwig."

"Go back to your reading. I'll be giving you a comprehension test on the night before the Dark Lord arrives." Snape left.

Harry grinned into his dinner. Snape wanted to test Harry�s Occlumency skills, which meant that he was probably willing to bring Harry a bird if he thought Harry could keep it secret from Voldemort.

Harry went to bed with his head full of plans.

~

Snape woke him up the next morning. "Bath time, Potter. You've slept in late enough."

Harry grumbled but got out of bed. He sleepily followed Snape down the hall. Snape opened the bathroom door for him but did not follow him inside. Harry stripped then climbed into the tub. He made himself another bubble bath and was glad for it when Snape entered.

"Why are you in here?" he asked angrily.

"If you drowned, intentionally or not, the Dark Lord would have my head," answered Snape as he returned to his favourite position. Harry wanted to attack him or throw things at him until he left, but he'd never get access to an owl if he did that, so he forced his anger down.

Harry cleaned himself off completely, then grabbed a towel to cover himself and dry off.He dressed carefully, keeping a towel between his body and Snape until he had put on his bottoms. He pulled on his jumper as normal and then walked back to his cell. Snape followed him, maintaining a respectful distance as if he expected Harry to turn around and attack him any second. He spelled breakfast on the table and then stepped away so that Harry could approach the table without going near him.

Harry sat down and attacked the thick omelette. The house-elves made the most delicious kind he had ever had. He didn't recognize most of the herbs and spices used in the cooking, but they were always balanced against each other so that no single one dominated the others.
Snape remained in the cell and checked Harry's toiletries. He stepped behind him to examine his bed, and remained out of sight while Harry finished his eggs, drank his orange juice, and picked up his toast. Harry finally grew curious about what Snape was doing and turned around to see Snape sitting on his bed. He almost dropped his toast because Snape never sat anywhere in the room besides the other chair.

"The Dark Lord has given me permission to use you between visits provided that I don't cause you pain." Snape�s eyebrows were steady, which meant that he was wearing a neutral expression.

Harry lost his appetite. He slowly put his toast back on the plate as he tried to figure out what Snape was saying. "I don't-" Harry swallowed; his mouth dry. "Are you going to?"

"Yes." Snape dipped his head slightly. "The potion should take effect any minute now."

"Potion?" And then it hit him. A feeling of relaxation spread over his body. Harry tried to get to his feet and run from Snape, but his legs wouldn�t move properly and he fell to the floor. "What did you give me, you bastard?"

"Something to make it easier." Snape moved to pick Harry up.
"Don't touch me!" Harry tried to bite him, but Snape stayed away from his face. He tucked an arm under Harry's shoulders and another under his legs, and carried him back to the bed, placing Harry face up on top of the bedcovers.

The bed sheets felt amazing against Harry's skin. Better than they ever had before. He rubbed himself against them as a feeling of calm stole over him, washing away any trace of anxiety. Every part of his body relaxed and grew limp, except for his cock, which slowly hardened. He rolled over and rubbed himself against the silken sheets, which seemed to swallow him whole. It felt so amazing. His whole body was as sensitive as if he had just been born and was touching the world for the very first time. He just wanted to lay there, rubbing against the sheets forever.

Harry felt the dip of the mattress as Snape climbed onto the bed. Snape's fingers wrapped around his hips, rolling him onto his back. The simple touch was exquisite and Harry gasped. Snape slid one long leg over Harry's waist, pinning him down, as he pushed up his jumper. Harry marvelled at the feeling of Snape's robes and hands against his skin. The hands were softer than he'd ever imagined. The robes were thick and heavy and a different texture than the bed sheets. He explored as much of the heavier cloth as he could find; his fingers delighting in the sensation. His roaming hands found Snape's hair, which was even better to stroke than the robes. It fell through his fingers like the softest silk.

Snape's arms kept knocking against Harry's wandering hands, and when Harry tried to grab them to touch them, Snape growled, "Potter," and pinned Harry's hands above his head. His voice, a delightful low rumble cast magic and Harry shivered at the intensity of that sound. When he tried to touch Snape again, his hands remained stuck above his head and he gave a keening cry as he was denied the euphoric sensation of touching Snape. Snape pushed Harry's jumper up over his head, leaving it tangled with his bound arms. It felt nice. Harry rubbed his arms against it as much as he could.
But then Snape's hands roamed down to his chest and he gasped, so intense was the sensation. He stared up at the Death Eater above him and met his eyes, which were dark, dark pools in which Harry nearly drowned. Snape averted his gaze quickly, as though ashamed of trying to kill Harry. He tilted his head down, his dark hair hiding his eyes as he focused on the way his hands moved over Harry�s chest. Harry pressed up against those cool extremities as they left trails of fire in their wake.

Snape's fingers found Harry's nipples, which were pointing out, eager for attention. That simple touch made Harry's cock thicken and wrenched a cry from his throat and more quickly followed as Snape continued to touch them, his hands fluttering as he stroked, rolled, pinched, and caressed the sensitive nubs. Harry writhed beneath him as he tried to get Snape to touch more parts of his needful body. Snape's lower legs were locked over Harry's just above his knees and prevented him from rubbing his cock against Snape like he wanted.

Snape lowered his head, his soft hair brushing against Harry�s chest, to taste one pink peak and Harry arched up to meet the tongue. When that glorious mouth closed around the hard peddle, Harry groaned. Snape's mouth was so hot and wet that Harry wanted to stuff his entire body in that amazing cavern. It released him then and Harry gave a cry of dissatisfaction. Snape heard his pleas and obliged him, taking the other peak, which had been sorely neglected, into his mouth. An exploring hand up wandered up to fondle the recently wetted one and the movements of Snape's fingers followed the movements of his mouth and Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as his body shook with the combined pleasure of it. He had no idea having his nipples toyed with could be this wonderful. He'd have to tell Ginny.

It felt so fucking good and Harry was so hard, he was almost ready to come even though his dick hadn't been touched at all. Disappointingly, Snape's wondrous mouth and fingers vanished as he sat up and removed a small jar from his robes. Harry watched through needy eyes as Snape unscrewed the lid, and its scent filled the room. It rolled over Harry and his brain was too busy focusing on his cock to figure out what it was, but it reminded him of a wet late spring filled with strawberries. Snape called a chair to him and placed the jar on it after smearing some of the contents on his fingers.

"Touch me!" Harry was tired of being ignored. "Touch me or I will hex you, you bastard!" He desperately tried to rub his bound body against Snape's.

Snape removed Harry's bottoms and spread his legs. Harry realised what he was going to do and shook his head as he tried to pull away. Everything else had been fine but not that. "No, it hurts. Not that"

Snape shifted to lie beside Harry as he took Harry's right nipple into his glorious mouth again. Harry tried to turn his body to rub against Snape, but the Death Eater threw out his leg to pin Harry's legs against the bed again. Harry was so overwhelmed by the magic Snape was causing with his mouth that he almost didn't notice Snape's right hand slowly working its way to his groin. When it brushed Harry's inner thighs he spread his legs, trying to control it with his mind.

"My cock," he moaned. "My cock, touch my cock."

The hand was very disobedient and chose instead to slide a finger into him. He gasped, but there was no pain. His body was so relaxed that it didn't hurt at all, even when a second finger joined the first and the two began to slowly thrust in and out of him. It was such an odd sensation but he enjoyed it just as he enjoyed being touched anywhere on his body. Still, it wasn't his cock and he complained.

"You missed it!" He thrust his hips to try to get Snape's attention to his most neglected member. Snape raised his head, which infuriated Harry since his mouth had left Harry's body.

"Impatient boy." Snape's words rolled like thunder across his skin and Harry gasped at the pleasure of that dulcet tone. The fingers were exploring him, stroking over every inch of his insides.

"Give me your mouth," demanded Harry, not caring where he put it or what he did with it as long as he did something other than keep it away from him. Snape, closing his eyes, leaned forward and kissed him, his velvet tongue caressing Harry's lips before sliding into his welcoming mouth. Harry opened for him and was helpless to do anything but clumsily try to keep up as Snape sent shivers throughout his whole body with the skilful movements of his tongue, teeth, and lips. Snape's fingers finally found what they were searching for and pressed against something in his arse that made lightning shoot through his entire body. He cried into Snape's mouth and pushed back against the fingers, trying to get more. Snape removed his mouth from Harry's.

Harry licked his lips. "You are a better kisser than Draco," he told the Snape, which made his eyebrows scurry away from each other.

"Excuse me?" Snape's fingers stilled and Harry growled in frustration.

"Move! Touch me in there!" He shifted his hips and tried to fuck himself.
Snape added a third finger and fucked Harry with them, spreading them wide as he pulled them out before closing them and pushing them back in again. It felt good, but Harry was going to die if he didn't come already. His penis had been ignored for far too long. "Please . . . touch me...."

Snape pulled out his fingers and released the chains binding Harry's hands. Harry escaped from his jumper and grabbed the black robes, desperate for more contact. Snape shifted away, pulling Harry upright. His limbs weren't obeying his brain and when he tried to press himself against Snape, he found himself instead turned around, facing the wall. Snape grabbed his wrists, his hot hands nearly burning Harry's skin as he pulled Harry up on his knees and pressed his hands against the wall far above his head. Thunder rumbled over Harry again and chains reappeared. Snape's mouth worked magic on Harry's neck as his hands passed down Harry's chest, pausing to tease the nipples and draw more sounds from Harry's throat.

"My cock...." Harry pleaded, trying to make the hands go there. "Touch my cock." It was swollen and weeping precum profusely, crying to be touched. The hands were cruel and ignored it entirely as they stroked Harry�s inner thighs and he spread his legs. Snape pressed his chest up against Harry, still fully clothed and Harry wiggled back against him, trying to suck in all of his heat. "Touch me there."

Snape's left hand disappeared and the soft pop of buttons being undone filled the room. Snape's right hand finally gave mercy and slid towards Harry's aching need as the Death Eater pressed against his back, the full prick thick between his buttocks. It had hurt last time and Harry gasp, "No, not that." Ignoring Harry, Snape pushed the tip of himself in as his right hand closed around Harry's penis. It didn't hurt this time, he just felt stretched. In fact, Snape's hand on his dick felt so wonderful, he began thrusting into Snape's fingers even though each roll of his hips drew more of Snape's thick cock into his body. Snape's other hand slid up to catch a nipple and roll it between two long fingers.
Overwhelmed by the sensation, Harry cried out and began to fuck himself faster. Snape's hands left his prick and nipple, and he screamed in frustration. He wanted to come so badly. If he hadn't been drugged, he felt as though he would have come five hundred times by now. The denial of his pleasure when he had been so close was cruel torture.

Snape's fingers closed around Harry's hips and he pounded into him, his burning heat filling and stretching him in a way that made him cry in ecstasy with each stroke. It was already more than enough to leave Harry breathless when Snape shifted Harry's hips slightly and brushed against that thing in Harry that made stars appear. Harry was shouting something as Snape hit it with each inward stroke, but he had no idea what his brain was saying. He could feel his balls tight against his body and the tingling sensation he felt in his groin kept building and building and then he knew he was going to come even though Snape's hands weren't on his cock.

Harry screamed and shut his eyes as his prick spurted so ferociously he was afraid that he had ejaculated his intestines out onto the wall. He collapsed in a puddle of useless bones and muscles as Snape held him up and thrust a few more times before coming himself with a soft grunt. He released Harry�s bonds and lowered them both on the bed. Snape lay beside him with his chest pressed up against him, his arm tossed over his waist, and his cock softening in Harry's arse. Snape's harsh breaths filled his ears and his warm heat spread throughout Harry's body. Harry could feel Snape's heart beat through his robes and the organ beat so loudly it seemed to be trying to escape from the his chest. Harry rested against the half-embrace, feeling incredibly satiated and even a little cared-for.

He had never been held like that before. Snape's larger body covered his entirely and the hand thrown casually over his chest curled towards him as if it had been in the process of moving to tightly hug him when interrupted. He felt protected, which was weird because he was fully aware of what Snape had just done. The man's cock was still in his arse! Still . . . he closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel protected and loved, even if it was all an illusion. He and Snape lay like that until Snape's breathing returned to normal. Snape carefully removed himself completely. He sat up on the bed and put his feet on the floor. Harry remained curled up on the bed with his eyes closed as if he were sleeping. He felt Snape's Scourgifys as he was cleaned both internally and externally. When the Death Eater finished, he picked up the sheet, which had gotten kicked to the side, and spread it over Harry's body. Harry had never been tucked in before and it sent a pang to his heart as Snape smoothed the sheet out over him.

Once he heard the library door close, Harry rolled over and pressed into the warm spot Snape's body had left on the sheets. He tried to melt into the mattress and let the warmth spread throughout his limbs. He fell asleep with his fingers curled in the sheets.

[[Things are a little bit better now.... right?]]
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Nights of Gethsemane