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Unleashed	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 17651 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I make no money in the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Alas, my readership is gone! That's what I get for taking so long. Here's more!

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UNLEASHED

A Snarry fanfic

by lordoberon

Chapter 12

Calmly, again expressionless, Potter answered, “You told me to lie down on the floor like Vesuvius man. Two circles with runes were drawn around me. You and Remus Lupin began to cast spells. I began to feel a burning inside of me. It was very painful…”

The boy looked away. He took a deep breath, and then looked directly at Severus and continued. “The burning grew. I felt like I was being cut in half. That’s where I lose track. Then I woke up, just now, and sat on the couch next to you.”

Lupin looked at Severus. Beyond his frazzled surface look was the same panic Severus felt, but less. He said, “‘Remus Lupin’? Since when am I Lupin and not Remus, Harry?”

Potter looked at Lupin, and then back at Severus. “You’re just a previous teacher of mine. You work for the Order of the Phoenix. You’re a werewolf. You’re having a thing with Nymphadora Tonks, who is related to Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Lupin was looking hard at Potter now. His gaze was all the hardness of pain and the intense scrutinizing, studying gaze of a scholar.

“He’s missing something. Harry, do you remember how we met?”

Potter rolled his eyes. “I remember it all. The dementors came in the Hogwarts Express and I fainted and you gave me chocolate.”

“And? What else do you remember about me?”

Potter looked at Severus, and his look was as if to say, This guy is crazy. Coldly he said, “I remember it all. You taught me in Third Year. You were friends with…my father.”

Some gear inside had trouble with that, Severus could see. A pained expression crossed Potter’s face for a fleeting second, so fleeting that no one but Severus could catch it. Then it was replaced with the same robotic face he’d been wearing. Severus wanted to smack him. This version of Potter was like no version; he was like a dead zombie.

Instead, Severus remained calm and said, “It appears your opinion of Mr. Lupin has changed greatly from what information our memories give us, Mister Potter. That is the cause of our questioning. You must be tired after the ordeal just now, though. Consider yourself dismissed.”

Slowly, Potter stood up. He gave Severus a hard look. There was some anger and resentment there that Severus could not understand. Then he turned, slowly, and walked up to his bedroom. They heard the door click lightly closed.

Immediately Lupin lunged forward. His eyes were wide. “Do you think they took him over?”

Severus shook his head. “I am…not sure. I am inclined to say no, though. When Potter mentioned his father, there was a flicker of pain. I think if the demons have taken him over, there would be more rage, more thirst, more…just more! He’s very robotic and quiet. We know that’s not normal for him, but I don’t think the demons would react quite like that, either. They were very eager when they spoke to me, although they attempted to sound dignified. What did they say to you?”

He ignored the fact that Lupin was probably curious about Severus’ yelling at Potter while he, Lupin, spoke to the demons. He’d been busy trying to keep the boy on this side of the Beyond, thank you very much.

“They asked me who I was, and I would not tell them. I told them to remember that Harry was not chosen by Voldemort. He was in a prophecy, and the person in power could have just as easily been another boy – Neville Longbottom. So, I tried to press the point that Harry was a random coincidence, not that he is destined for greatness.”

“‘Destined for greatness…’” Severus repeated. He felt he was not quite all there. His entire brain faculty was not available to him. It frustrated him greatly. He glared up at Lupin.

“The boy has been a hassle to me for so long, you would think I would get used to it and become resigned. Instead, I cannot help my resentment. My body is exhausted and I cannot give you any of my mind at the moment. Please leave.”

A look of surprise crossed Lupin’s face, and then he smiled. “I think some of his politeness has rubbed off on you, though. Usually you’d have yelled something much less savory at me.”

Severus growled. “I will in a moment, if you don’t shut it! Now be gone!”

With a pop, the wizard left by the Floo system, and Severus was alone…with blessed silence. Thank Merlin!

A trembling panic threatened to grow in him if he kept himself awake and tried to figure anything out any longer. He slammed upstairs and into his room, and collapsed upon his bed. Moments after his head touched his pillow, he was out.

It felt like only moments later that the crack of dawn creeping through his bedroom curtains woke him. Severus swore loudly, and buried himself in his blankets. Blasted sun!

When next he woke, it was to a loud crashing sound from downstairs.

Somewhat slower than usual, he pulled on a pair of robes, scourgified himself clean, and ran-half-tumbled himself down the stairs.

Potter stood in the kitchen. Or rather, what was left of it.

When Severus gawked at him from the doorway, Potter lifted up the borrowed wand in explanation. “You let me keep it,” he explained. “So I decided to do what I wish with it.”

He pointed down to a massive hole in the floor of the kitchen. The cupboards above it were burned black. Bits of wood hung in threads from the ceiling and the walls. Cans of food and other miscellaneous items were strewn all over. Potter himself was dirty, half of him grey with ash and black smudges on his face. He looked unhurt.

“Is that your lab?”

Fury ran down into Severus so hard that he almost set fire to the rest of the kitchen with Potter in it right then and there. He was so tired, physically and emotionally, that he didn’t even try to remain calm. This was his limit, perhaps.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Potter blocked his spell with a devilish grin, and kept holding onto the borrowed wand. His hand gripped it so hard that his knuckles were white. When Severus made to cast another spell, Potter bellowed, “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”

Severus blocked that before it could work, and then stomped forward. He grabbed the wand in Potter’s hand, and glared down at the boy.

Green eyes glittered dangerously behind the glass. “Let go,” Potter whispered. “I will use your own spell on you if you do not.”

“Just you try it,” Severus hissed. He hit a hard blow to the boy’s shoulders, close to his neck. Potter fell backwards, but he did not let go of the wand. His head almost thunked against the floor, but he held himself up just in time.

His eyes even more bright and angry now, Potter laughed. “It’s not going to be that easy. You’re not going to get it back unless you’re willing to hurt me, which I know you aren’t.”

Wordlessly, Severus did several things at once. First, he set the stinging hex on Potter, who immediately shouted in pain as his skin bubbled and blistered. Then, with a locomotor spell, he trapped Potter in a box of objects, using the fridge as one of them, as well as random objects that had been blown all over the place by Potter’s handiwork. Then he yanked the wand out of Potter’s hand, and immediately traced the last spells it had cast, in case Potter had cast some strange spell on himself. He saw the spell Potter had used to explode the kitchen, some cleaning spell, and lumos, accio, and how the wand had been used to retrieve memories.

Nothing unusual.

So it was the demons, then, that had changed Potter’s personality and made him suddenly vindictive. Well, Severus would get to the bottom of that. But first –

He set a shield around himself and levitated down into the lab. The stairway was gone, with only a couple steps left at the end. The top left-hand ceiling of the room, connected to the bottom of the kitchen, was gone.

He sighed in relief when he saw that the rest of the lab was unharmed. Safe were his trunks and bins of ingredients. The cauldrons that bubbled on one wall of the great stone room were still bubbling away. His desk of papers was untouched, and his dangerous experiments in the deepest, darkest corner of the room were unsullied.

Merlin be thanked. He quickly set about repairing the damage, and when it was done, he returned to the upstairs part of the house.

A very angry Potter was in the sitting room, pressing on a bubble on his arm that was pus-filled and ready to burst.

“I hate you, you know,” the boy whispered. “Along with all the other people who try to help. I wish all of you would leave me alone. I can kill Voldemort myself, and I can hunt down the pieces of his soul. I don’t need anyone’s help. You all simply get in the way.”

Severus sat down on the armchair across from Potter and just looked at him. Then he said, “You are a fool, Mister Potter, if you think that you would still be here without me. I saved you from many stupid things you threw yourself into. Perhaps you would have made it some of the ways, with Granger as your friend, but -”

“Granger?” Potter laughed. “She’s not my friend. She’s an insufferable know-it-all.”

Ah! The demons always gave themselves away. They would never be able to successfully take over Potter’s body and fool anyone, least of all Severus. The day they did would be the day Severus stopped shoving potions down Potter’s throat, and the day Severus died.

He couldn’t help the triumphant grin that came on his face. “Oho? Not a friend? Then what do you call gallivanting with her and Weasley for the past six years of your life?”

Again, he saw some gear in Potter’s head get messed up by what he had said. A violent twitching vein in Potter’s forehead gave it away. He said smoothly, “I simply needed some company, and found my own House too intolerably simple-minded. She does have a good brain in her head, you have to admit. As for Weasley…he’s funny isn’t he?”

Potter gave a horrible grin. It was that same, mocking grin that Severus had seen on too many of his Slytherin charges to count.

“Ah, yes,” Severus said quietly. He pretended to look across the room at the newly repaired kitchen but really he was giving Potter sidelong glances. “The joys of being in the House of Salazar Slytherin. That is what you refer to?”

Potter nodded. “Finally you understand.”

Annoyance flared inside Severus. So the Potter boy somehow thought he was a Slytherin now. How absurd! Severus could never have imagined it. Potter, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, a Slytherin? The only less imaginable thing would be if Draco Malfoy were suddenly a noble, bumbling Gryffindor, with a spine instead of cowardly “my father” threats! Severus wanted to laugh.

But then he remembered that indeed, the memory of Potter’s Sorting was gone. It seemed the demons had erased it after all. He shuddered to think of what it would be like if he had Potter put memories in his pensieve now. They would all be changed by the fact that Potter thought he was a Slytherin. Perhaps the demons had even covered things that couldn’t be explained away – Potter’s bed in Gryffindor Tower, for instance – with false memories? Could they do that?

Well, if this was going to be how it was…he could play it. Until he and Lupin found a solution, that is. But damn that he would have to solve this new problem before he could get Potter to finish the pensieve work. The pensieve work was vital.

“So tell me,” he said conversationally. “What were you going to do in my lab?”

Potter’s eyes were bright and curious as he looked at Severus. “I just wanted to see it,” he said. “I wanted to see what’s it like, the place where you play and where you leave everything behind and just work at your passion. I wanted to look at all the ingredients, and see your most dangerous spells. I wanted to try them out, and see what they would do.”

It was alarming. The thirst in Potter’s eyes was almost like the thirst that radiated from the demons’ in the conversation last night. But the boy’s eyes were as green as ever. This thirst was in him; or, rather, it was in the Slytherin version of him. Severus knew that Potter was a curious person and thirsted for adventure; it was discomfiting to see it turned to a darker side in Potter’s little ramble.

“You would try out the potions on yourself? You would risk that?” He pretended to pick at a fingernail disinterestedly. But a burning anger was inside of him. He hated this Slytherin Harry Potter.

Green eyes became cold and hard. “Of course not!” Potter laughed a single, cold bark. “I would never risk myself like that. Are you kidding? I would make someone else take it, or give it to an animal.”

Severus swallowed the bile that came up in his throat. He wanted intensely to hurt this Slytherin that wasn’t even like Harry Potter at all. But he couldn’t, not as long as those green eyes glowed out at him.

Perhaps he could upset the Slytherin Potter even more, if he continued to remind him of how things really were. He couldn’t remind Potter of Gryffindor House. But he could humiliate him, and anger him, and summon up the soft, blooming knowledge that Potter had of Lily Evans.

“Let me show you.”

He blindfolded Potter with a quick spell, snatched the clammy hand, and walked the blind boy slowly down into his lab from the secret kitchen entrance. Then, when they reached the bottom of the stairway, he took off the blindfold spell.

He watched as Potter stared in awe at his lab. It made him want to laugh. Since when had Potter been interested in potions? But then, Potter looked away from the lab and at him, instead.

“Show me your work,” Potter whispered. “I want to see you at work, here in your home.”

Severus was puzzled. Why was Potter so interested in this? He never had been before. Why would being a Slytherin make him so interested? Not all Slytherins were adept at potions, and Harry Potter had never, ever been good at it, or interested.

He decided to humor him a little, to get more of a feel for Potter as a Slytherin. So he walked Potter to the center of the room. Set deep in an empty stone pool were three bubbling cauldrons. One poofed out spirals of smoke. One was a burning, deep blood red. The third was only halfway full, and resembled a brown soup, except the bits of white were bone, and the brown was from old salamander blood.

“These are what I have stewing at the moment. The brown one is a simple strength potion, to make all natural propensities in a person stronger. The smoky one is a very rare, very dangerous potion that I am writing an essay on for my own personal enjoyment. It is called Laceferus Borthus. It was named in relation to the fallen angel Lucifer, known as Satan or the Devil. It has the power, if brewed properly, to make the drinker able to hear demoniac voices and control them – effectively becoming a demon lord. This potion has rarely been brewed successfully. None of its drinkers have survived.”

Potter did not look ill or disinterested. Instead, his eyes gleamed with that same eagerness. He even licked his lips, and Severus had to look away. The image was alluring, but with the mind that was currently connected to Potter’s body, he found it revolting.

“And the red potion?”

“The red potion blazes through the innermost walls of the mind, making it very vulnerable to reading. All three of these potions are only part of a larger potion.”

Potter walked around the perimeter of the pool. His eyes were bright. He leaned down once, to try and smell the potions, but the potions were scentless so of course he smelled nothing. Across the pool from Severus, he gave him a look.

Severus had not seen that look directed at him before from Harry Potter. It was admiration. He felt a hot flush riddle his cheeks involuntarily, while discomfort twisted hard in his gut. Potter admired his skills in potion? Well, well. Some respect was due. But having it given now, when Potter was not himself, was somewhat unpleasant.

“What’s the big potion?”

It was the dream potion. Severus would keep that a secret from the demons. If they were aware right now, within Potter, he did not want them finding out what he was going to try on them next.

“None of your business,” he said smoothly. He waved a hand to the right side of the large, dimly lit room, by the stairway.

“My desk,” he said simply. Potter stared at it. Ugh, this was awful. Could he stand more than a day of this Potter? He would trade Potter’s dislike of him for the admiration any day of the week.

Potter walked over to Severus’s desk and began to leaf idly through some notes on top. Immediately Severus felt his body go rigid. He marched over, and snatched Potter’s hand from the pages.

“Excuse me. What are you doing?” He hissed.

Potter smirked a self-satisfied little prat of a smirk. “Just looking.”

He walked away from the desk, and started to give himself a little tour of the entire lab, much as he just had of the desk. His progress was stopped when he reached the opposite wall and began to look at the bins of ingredients, and the shelves of labeled bottles. When he got closer to the dark corner with the dangerous potions, Severus grabbed his arm.

“That is all, Potter.”

The boy tore his arm out of Severus grip, only to be grabbed again. This time he reacted. He looked over his shoulder at Severus and anger flashed in his eyes.

“Get off me. You may be a powerful wizard, but so am I. Get your hands off of me. Just because I respect you doesn’t mean I’ll let you manhandle me.”

Severus wrenched the boy across the room and up the stairs. “Thankfully, I don’t give a damn what you have to say.”

He practically threw Potter back into the sitting room, and sat himself down on the couch. He was sick of all of this. When would he get some quiet peace with which to think over everything? He wanted nothing to do with Potter at the moment. He wanted to be alone. It had been too long. He was cracking at the edges.

Potter said quietly, “I’m going outside.”

He tossed his shirt glumly upon the couch arm, surprising Severus, and walked down the hall beyond the stairway to the door that went out back. Severus watched the back of his bare torso, the smooth skin and straight shoulder, the jut of his hips…He told the lust inside of him to shut up. This beautiful boy wasn’t even Harry Potter, anymore.

How could he fix this?

His mind was dull. He was tired, and his head ached from stress. Severus summoned a drink for himself, and sat staring at nothing. Having Potter being himself in the house was bad enough. He remembered just yesterday when he had walked up the stairs. His mind had been whirling with nervousness, trying to prepare for wrenching the demons temporarily out of Potter, knowing it would hurt the boy…

And then he had heard the unmistakable sounds of a happy wank coming from Potter’s room. Muffled moans split the silence, accompanied by heavy panting. He heard the thick, wet sounds of Potter sucking back unwelcomed saliva…the “mmm” of enjoyment repeated over and over…the groan of a good release.

It had taken time to gather himself together, and to resist the lust that rose in his thoughts and in his body. It had told him to open the door and to see Potter, even if just for a moment, nude on the bed. What did he look like? Was he flushed in his arousal? Did he bite his lips to stop the sounds from coming out more? Was he biting the pillow? Severus wondered what images Potter kept in his mind while his hands treated his cock…and it made no sense, since he would never see it, but he wished that Potter’s cock was big and beautiful…he wanted to see Potter’s body wet with sweat, to see the flushed cock, to grasp it in his hands while he kissed that pouting, pink mouth…

Just thinking about it again had Severus in a hot flush that spread down from his face to his neck. His body tingled with desire. So it was very unwelcome when Lupin suddenly popped in the fire again. The look on his sweaty face as it appeared in the fire was grim.

It changed quickly to confusion. “Er, Severus? Are you ill?”

Severus took a deep, deep breath. He tried to summon calm and force the arousal in his body away. A large sip of whiskey helped.

“Yes,” he croaked. “I am sick. I am sick of everything. My body is tired. McGonagall put me off of my teacher duties. The Dark Lord has me searching for Potter everywhere. Potter thinks he’s a Slytherin, and is now the most irritating little bitch of a being I’ve ever met. My body is screaming at me to stop. My mind is too full. But,” he held up a finger as Lupin opened his mouth, “I am not incapable. I have ideas.”

Lupin sighed heavily. “What are they?”

“Certain things I say bother the little world of Slytherin that Potter currently believes. I plan to keep upsetting him. Perhaps something will get through. Meanwhile, the dream potion will be complete tonight. I can enter his dreams and influence them, and tackle the demons there, starting tonight.”

Lupin looked at him. It was that intense, searching stare that Severus hated so much. “Would you mind if I came and watched him, while you slept?”

Severus frowned. “I will sleep at night. That is when I will use the dream potion.”

Lupin snorted angrily. “Yes, but you look tired! You need more sleep! Severus…you have invested a lot of energy into this so far. You deserve a break.”

Invested energy into the fight against the demons? Severus had invested energy into Potter, and perhaps too much.

“I agree. But you know I will not take it unless you force me.”

Lupin growled in the fireplace. “Why? Tell me. What drives you so strongly? I haven’t seen you quite so…so invested and interested in Harry’s best interests, before now. Is there something you want to tell me?”

The growling tone he’d had became soft and gentle. Wrinkles on his tired face faded a little, and there was an edge of a smile in his last question.

Had Severus been that careless? Even Lupin could see a hint of his true feelings for Harry now?

He grunted. “No.” Short and quick would end the trail the dog was sniffing at.

Lupin gave him a long look, and then said, “I’m coming over.”

Before Severus could stop him, the werewolf was in his sitting room, and sat on the armchair by the window. “Go to sleep. Where is Harry?”

Severus sighed, and sank into the couch in surrender. “He’s outside. Don’t let him touch the dangerous plants…”

He was angry with himself for yawning, for sinking into the couch, but he couldn’t help it. He slept deeply.

When he woke, it was sunset. Blast it! He hadn’t meant to sleep that long. He got up, to the smell of dinner steaming away. When Lupin came from the kitchen and plopped a bowl of soup in front of him, he drank it greedily. When he was done, he looked up.

“Potter?”

Lupin sat down heavily on the couch beside Severus. “He’s upstairs in his room. He refuses to talk to me very much. I’m nothing more than…an old, annoying teacher to him now.”

Severus grinned nastily. “Welcome to the club.”

Lupin laughed grimly. “Oh, so is this how it feels? Well…I don’t like it. Harry is my friend, even though he’s a teenager. Sirius and James…I know that Sirius liked our friendship. He would want me to make sure Harry is alright.”

Severus looked sidelong at the tired werewolf. The man was tired and unshaven. He clasped his hands in his lap tightly, angrily. There was a twitch in his jaw that revealed his stress.

“Thank you for helping me,” Severus said quietly. He stared into the fire.

Lupin’s surprised tone drew him back into the world. “Severus? Do you feel better? You’re being…far kinder to me than usual. Where’s the old grump?”

He slapped Severus on the back. Severus winced. He hated it when people touched him suddenly. Really, he didn’t like much touching at all. It made him feel too vulnerable. He liked it too much. But he also hated it.

“I miss the usual brat Potter is,” Severus scowled. “And I’ve gotten used to his company. The only Slytherin in this house should be me!”

Lupin laughed again. “So he’s gotten through some of your walls. Well, good for him. I’m sure he finds it interesting. He likes to know the real people behind the facades.”

Severus was tired of this close talking. This all seemed to be a way for Lupin to roundabout find what he really felt for Harry. Potter! Potter.

So Lupin wanted to take care of Potter for Black. Well. “Did you mention Black to him at all?”

Lupin looked at him sharply. “…Yes. I did. I told him how worried Sirius would be to see him like this…I definitely noticed what you called an ‘upset.’ Something did not click with the Slytherin mindset. He looked sad…and then he wouldn’t look at me. Then he yelled at me to shut it, and when I tried to say more, he walked away. He enjoyed himself outside, you know. Let him out there more. He did get into your greenhouse in the center of the garden, but then something bit him and I pulled him out.”

Severus bit his lip to not show his worry. “Did he lose any limbs?”

Lupin was looking at him closely again. “No. So. You’ll try the dream potion tonight? Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes, I’m trying it. And no.”

When Lupin left, Severus made his way upstairs. He waited at the door, to see if there was any noise this time. Nothing. He knocked.

“Come in."

Potter sat on the bed, leaned up against the wall. He was stretched out so that his legs hung partly off of the bed, one arm up behind his head. The pile of books he’d borrowed from the downstairs shelves sat next to him. He was reading a quidditch book.

Severus leaned against the door and just looked at him. Sitting like this, he looked like the same old Harry Potter. But damn it, he wasn’t.

“Do you miss being Seeker?”

Again, a jolt. Potter bit down on his lip so hard it bled. He rubbed it away and glared up at Severus. His Gryffindor mind within, hidden or shut off, knew he was the Gryffindor Seeker. But the Slytherin in him refused to acknowledge it. Malfoy was the Slytherin Seeker, and he knew it.

Potter glared up at Severus, and said nothing. Well, fine.

Severus returned to his room and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Potter seemed to despise him even more as a Slytherin, even though he was Slytherin head of house. As a Slytherin, Potter was proud. He wanted control. He wanted power. He admired Severus’s power as a potion maker, but he still did not like Severus.

And he was still beautiful. Damn it all!

Severus leapt off of his bed and sped to his labs. Carefully reading the book, he mixed the three potions together. It turned a bright, brilliant orange. He divided it into vials, dated each, and then grabbed the one for tonight.

This time, he would be the one drinking the potion.

He waited until midnight, just in case Potter was still awake. Then he took the potion while lying down on his bed. It tasted bitter, and was a little flaky…like moth wings on the tongue. He rolled his tongue around in his mouth a little, savoring the taste, not because it was good but because it was unfamiliar. He tried to memorize the flavor, to put the information away in his inner library. Dream potion. A dash of burnt eggs along with a squeeze of straight vinegar and a hint of lime.

And then he slept.

The effect of the potion was immediate. Severus felt his inner body awaken, his dream self, his spirit, whatever it was. No one really knew. He forced it to leave his body, and treaded softly down the stairs, across the sitting room, and up to Potter’s room. Effortlessly he glided through the door like a ghost.

Potter was asleep in his bed, rolled up like a sausage tangled in his bed sheets, one arm hanging off the bed.

Severus leaned over, and narrowed himself down into a point, a wisp, a needle…he entered the boy’s mind through his closed eyelids.

And just like that, he was within Potter’s dreams.

The demons were running rampant inside of him, dancing devils around a flame, while the lord of the demons watched with a smile. He knew he would get blood soon. Meanwhile, he was having fun watching Severus agonize over Potter’s new state of mind.

Severus left that thought track, and was voluntarily swept into another. Here, Potter was playing Quidditch against himself. One wore the red of Gryffindor, one the green of Slytherin. He bounced between the two bodies, sometimes Gryffindor, sometimes Slytherin. The Gryffindor side of him strained to capture the Snitch, twirling up into the air…

And then Slytherin knocked his hand out of the way, and grabbed hold of the Snitch. He began to laugh and laugh and laugh…

Severus leapt forward, and knocked the laughing boy off of his broom. Green eyes widened. Then, as he began to fall into a dark, bottomless pit, he screamed. Oh! Severus could not stand to see that. He took the Snitch from the air, and handed it over to the Gryffindor Potter, who was staring at him.

He put the Snitch in Potter’s hands. The boy stared at him.

“Sn-Snape?”

Severus smiled. “I always save you, don’t I? Well, I’ve come to do it again. Come out of here, Potter. You’re not stuck here. This - ” He put his hand on the red uniform, “This is your color. Remember. You’re a Gryffindor.”

Potter stared at him. His eyes began to glass over. “But,” he said, “No, I’m…I’m…”

Severus stared at him hard. “Gryffindor. You are Gryffindor. I remember your Sorting.”

And as hard as he could, he pushed the memory into Potter’s mind. He pushed in the feelings he’d felt upon seeing the son of Lily, looking so very much like James. He pushed in McGonagall calling out the P’s, and the blazing curiosity and despair and excitement he’d felt when he went to sit down on the stool, and put on the Hat.

Then – “GRYFFINDOR!”

Then, something was burning it. It tickled his throat. It entered his eyes. He was wrenched away from the dream, away from control, out into a desert. There, the demon king waited for him. He was a black, smoking wraith, faceless, with a silver crown atop his head.

“Give me his blood,” the king said. “You swore it.”

“I will,” Severus replied calmly. “But in the state he is now, as a Slytherin, he will not let me. He won’t understand.”

The king rushed forward. His arms wrapped around Severus in a heavy embrace. Severus burned everywhere the demon touched. He could not stay here! Everything hurt. But he stayed, waiting for the demon king’s reply, even as he burned.

“He does not need to understand,” the king said. “Just do it.”

Then, in one quick cut, his dream self was ripped out of the dream, out of Potter.

He fell back against his own bed, once more in his body. He stared up at the ceiling, wordless. Pain erupted all over his body. Slowly, he peeled his robes away.

Every inch of him was covered in red welts and burns. It hurt too much to move. But he had to heal it, or it would scar. The Dark Lord would see it, would ask about it, and he would be dead. Then he wouldn’t be able to save Harry from the demons.

As he inched his way up to sit, and then to stand, he thought. How could he get Potter back to himself more quickly? The dream work was good, but it had to wait for night time. And, the demons knew he had invaded Potter’s dreams. They might kick him out next time. They might do even worse…

His body was in so much pain, that even turning the door knob hurt. Walking down the stairs stung him so badly, that tears began to stream down his face. He wanted to swear and scream, but that would hurt, too, and it would wake up Potter. So he continued to move slowly down the stairway. He was weak, and forced to lean against the wall and inch slowly down, down…

When he opened the door to the sitting room, he almost fell. He made his way to the kitchens, and opened the cupboard with the healing potions. He drank one greedily. And then he collapsed.

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Thoughts?
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