Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Invictus	By : starcrossedkayla Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 13268 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Severus wiped his hands on his robes and reached for the knocker. It was his third try. The last two times had resulted in him marching back down the winding walkway, away from Avery’s home. Did he even have the right address? What if Avery Senior answered? What if Avery just laughed at him? It wasn’t as if they had spent more time together than he had with anyone else in Slytherin House. The only reason he’d come here was because Avery had heard the news of Lord Voldemort’s first visit and congratulated Severus during Transfiguration. He should forget this. Forget the whole thing. What had he been thinking? He didn’t have what it took to be a Death Eater. He could never....

He’d come too far to quit now. He had to at least talk to Avery, see if something else could be done. Before he could stop himself, he rapped on Avery’s door.

Silence.

Merlin’s balls, he’d been an idiot.

He turned around to leave and the door opened.

“Severus?”

The son, not the father. Severus plastered a smile on his face. “Avery, do you have a moment?”

“Sure.” Avery stepped outside. “Father asked me to inspect the gardens. Care to come along?”

Avery rarely failed to mention his father in any conversation. It was part of the reason why he only went by his last name.

Severus nodded and followed the handsome, dark-haired boy down a twisted path. “Thank you. I- I wasn’t sure where else to go.”

His steps falling surely, Avery said, “The Dark Lord has given you your task, hasn’t he?”

So he wasn’t singled out? He let out the huge burst of air he’d been holding since Lord Voldemort had last visited him. “He asked me-”

Avery’s hand cut him off. “You mustn’t speak of any plans unless the Dark Lord has given you permission.”

Lord Voldemort hadn’t said anything about that.

”You must prove your devotion to our cause, Severus. This is the only way I can be certain that you will not fail us.”

“He didn’t.” It had been a mistake to come here. “I didn’t think it mattered. It only involves my family.”

Avery stopped and turned to him, his blue eyes sharp. “Your mother?”

Slowly, Severus shook his head. “My father. My mother is pure, a member of Slytherin.”

Tsking, Avery shook his head, his perfectly styled hair falling artfully around his face. “Some women...” He sighed. “You care for your father?”

“No, Merlin, no.” It should have made it easier, but it didn’t. If Tobias fell dead that moment he wouldn’t shed a tear, but to kill the man mother loved, the man who had proven capable of those fleeting moments of kindness.... “But it’s murder. If it were someone who had killed a hundred wizards, I could do it. But my father....” He swallowed. Tobias had roughed up that prat Jeremy. Tobias had nicked a bike for him.

Nodding, Avery motioned for him to follow. “Follow me.” He led him to a small gazebo by a dark lake. There, he draped himself over one of the benches and motioned for Severus to sit on the other.

His body moving before his mind could catch up, Severus sat and stared at his hands. If Tobias had hurt mother recently this would be easier, but the man had been remarkably well behaved these past few years, only fighting in the pub instead of with his wife. After the incident with the bottle of whiskey, he’d never bothered Severus and could even be kind. On occasion.

“The Dark Lord doesn’t ask for what’s easy to give because our fight won’t be easy,” said Avery softly. “There’ll always be those who view us as villains, and yes, some of what we do is monstrous, but if we don’t act quickly and decisively we’ll fail. You know that we’ll be destroyed if we allow those Muggle-lovers to chain us. Tell me, how did your father react to learning your mother was a witch?”

Tobias hated magic, but whenever he was drunk and the house wasn’t clean or dinner wasn’t ready, he would yell at mother for not using magic to better their situation. “Poorly.”

Avery smiled smugly and Severus hastened to add, “But that doesn’t mean I want him dead. Or every other Muggle dead. I want us to be able to reveal ourselves and set up a competent group of wizard leaders, but not if it means genocide.”

“It won’t,” said Avery as he leant back against the railing with a casual elegance Severus could only dream of attempting. “No one wants that except for those who’ve had family members and friends killed in brutal ways. They aren’t in command though; the Dark Lord is in command. There are many who do things in his name, but pay no attention to them. Pay attention to his words, to his promises, to what he’ll do. He listens to those in his closest circle. If you manage to get there despite your . . . handicap, he’ll listen to you. I heard that he chose you. Do you know how rare that is? Especially for-”

He didn’t want to hear any more comments on the purity of his blood, so he said, “I know that. I know he’s . . .” The most cleverly inventive wizard Severus had ever seen, capable of doing things once thought impossible. “Powerful. I know that the Muggles would kill us if they believed we existed. I’ve seen their hatred and bigotry first hand.”

“The world needs to be changed and you can’t do anything unless you have power. That’s a fact. You know that he will win. Who could possibly match him? Dumbledore?” Avery laughed, an infectious sound. “If you join us, you’ll be able to change the course of history. If you prove yourself worthy, you could move up in his ranks and influence him.”

“I know,” he said, miserably. “But it’s my father.” The man who’d given life to him even though he’d drunkenly expressed regret over that fact several times. How could Severus ever admit it or explain it to Lily, never mind that she’d refused to speak to him all year?

Avery looked out over the lake. “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.”

<center>~</center>

When Avery Portkeyed into the lab, Severus groaned inwardly. He’d been busy working on reports gathered from the other lab, and had no time to work on any of Avery’s projects. Still, he greeted the other Death Eater warmly.

Avery strode forward and put a package the size of a bread loaf on one of the worktables, a self-congratulatory smile on his face. “Don’t worry, it hasn’t been shrunk or transported by Apparition.”

The more finicky a potion ingredient, the fewer forms of magic it could tolerate. Curious, Severus set aside his ladle and crossed the room. He hadn’t ordered anything recently that required such precautions.

“What is it?” he asked, too wary to touch an unknown package, even one Avery had brought.

Avery’s smile widened. “It’s from Sethlans. We used our fathers’ network to transport it.”

Which meant that the Dark Lord hadn’t examined it.

After casting protection spells on himself (one could never be too careful), Severus opened the package. Rather than one solid object, it contained several small boxes carved from various materials. He picked up one made of oak and read the label: Bison bison hair. Ingredient supplies from the States. Although Sethlans had been an average Potions student, he had a knack for acquiring rare, hard-to-find items due to his intelligence and negotiation skills. Whatever else the boxes contained, at least a few of the items would be well worth having. Worth more than anything Severus could ever afford on his own.

Avery, knowing what Severus desired and well aware of Sethlans’s talents, gave a little chuckle. “When Sethlans wrote and said that he had potion supplies for you, I knew that it would be a while before you could receive them by normal channels. I’d already intended to visit New York, so it was a simple matter to pick them up.”

A simple matter that must have taken some skill, time, and more than a few Galleons to pull off. Severus nearly threw his arms around Avery. Instead, he simply said, “I look forward to seeing what he has given me.”

Avery threw back his head and laughed infectiously. “Knowing you, you’ll probably spend the next couple of days in here. Enjoy.” He turned and left, his back straight and his steps proud. He didn’t even wait for Severus to gift him with a potion, which meant he didn’t expect one.

Alone in his lab, Severus smiled and shook his head. Avery could be quite the prat sometimes, but he never failed to find a way to more than make up for it. It was such an unexpected boon that when Severus left to give Potter his breakfast, he regretted putting sleeping potions in it earlier. He could probably have dealt with the boy being obnoxious.

Apparently, Potter was in a good mood too, for instead of attacking Severus, he threw Hunchback to the side and said, "He's a pervert! He should leave the poor gypsy girl alone. He acts like hurting himself excuses everything he's done."

Severus had had much the same reaction when he first read it, but he couldn’t agree with Potter so easily. "He can't help himself; he is desperately in love with her.”

"He's going to get her killed! She's already been tortured because of him!"

"He has decided that if he can't have her, no one can." He Summoned breakfast.

"That's not love," Potter scoffed with the rigid certainty that only a Gryffindor could muster. "That's obsession. I hope Quasimodo kills him. He's old and ugly and a dirty pervert." He left the bed and took his seat at the table.

There it was, the heart of the matter. Gryffindors claimed to believe in ‘fairness’ and ‘equality’ but only those who fit their idea of ‘good’ ever received fair treatment. Severus crossed his arms. "Your implication that only the young and beautiful deserve love is asinine, but I am not surprised to hear it from the likes of you. You young fools always place appearance above character and ostracise those who do not match the conventional standards of beauty. Furthermore, you've neglected to observe any parts of the relationship between Quasimodo and Frollo, and yet you argue for patricide in such a cavalier fashion. He should kill the only man who has ever cared for him for the sake of a silly girl who finds his visage abhorrent?"

"Of course! The old man doesn't love him; he's just using him. Yeah, she finds him ugly and she's never going to be with him, but he could admire her from afar and he'd know that she's alive because of him."

He’d been willing to do that for Lily, but it had been torture. He could see why a weaker man would take more. "Mr Potter, I think you'll find that there are very few individuals who can gaze upon their heart's desire and not be consumed by the need for possession. That is why men waste away in front of the Mirror of Erised." It was a good start. Better to leave now, while they could manage a reasonable conversation. Turning, Severus left.

"I'd kill him," insisted Potter.

Could you? He probably could after Lucius was through with him. Speaking of which, he needed to prepare for the night.

The Dark Lord had sent a message stating that he would begin the festivities late. No dinner. What did that mean? Did he plan to have it elsewhere and exclude Severus? Was it a form of neglect since Severus had asked for so much and received it? Perhaps the Dark Lord believed that granting Severus’s wishes privately allowed him to know where he stood, so there was no reason for him to sit through dinner. Either way, relief mixed with paranoia had filled Severus’s stomach since the post had arrived.

At least he had been able to select Lucius’s form of torture: needles coated with Hellesborne. He had written back expressing exactly where Lucius would be allowed to stick them, and how long they could be. It would hurt, but Potter would heal within a day, provided that Lucius didn’t overstep his bounds.

He flipped through his cookbook for appetisers and prepared a few dishes. The Dark Lord would probably not eat anything, and regard the use of his time to be frivolous, but Severus knew that soon he’d be locking himself up in his lab with his new Potions ingredients (and possibly Potter), and he wanted as much time out of the lab as he could spare.

He cleaned the throne room with a few spells and prepared lunch and dinner. As the sleeping potions would keep Potter under for quite some time, there was no need at all to feed him lunch. He put dinner in the warmer, ate lunch, collected his post from the belligerent Strix, and after he’d finished organising everything in the house, left for the bedroom to chat with Albus.

Albus, who either had a sixth sense about these things or spent most of his days waiting for Severus, stood in the frame. He smiled when he saw Severus. “I was starting to think something had happened.”

“I’ve been busy,” answered Severus, although in actuality he didn’t want to tell Albus much about what his Polyjuice plans required. Albus wouldn’t approve of the use of test subjects. “The Dark Lord arrives tonight and with him Lucius.” He knew better than to admit that he had been the one who suggested Lucius should be granted the privilege of torturing Potter.

“Oh, dear.” Albus’s thick eyebrows slid in towards each other and he stroked his beard. “How is Harry taking it?”

“He doesn’t know yet. I think the apprehension would make him sick.” How many times had he himself been sick when he suspected the Cruciatus would come his way? He’d once spent an entire day in the loo.

“You must support him through this, he’s only a child.”

Potter emerged slowly, like a kitten still learning to walk. “I know,” he said. “I plan to do everything I can to help him through it.” Including feeding him plenty of calming potions, if that was what was necessary.

“He’s strong,” said Albus as if he were reminding himself of that fact. “But he needs someone like you in his life. Someone who can guide him away from his natural rash impulsiveness and provide him with a feeling of support.”

Trying to stop Potter from being impulsive and rash sounded like trying to catch a storm in a handbasket. “I’ll do my best.” Speaking of Potter, he pulled out the mirror and glanced at it. “Potter is currently on top of the table, doing something with the chairs.” That sleeping potion didn’t last nearly long enough.

Albus chuckled. As Severus stood, he said, “Tell him about Lily.”

“On my death bed.” Shrinking the portrait, Severus stuck it in his robes along with the mirror. How long had Potter been mucking about unsupervised? Hopefully not too long.

He strode down into the cellar. Don’t yell. Civilly explain how he’s an idiot who could hurt himself.

As soon as he opened the library door, Potter slid off the table. “What if I wasn’t dying but wanted to talk to you?”

"I doubt there would be such a need, but should it ever occur, you are allowed to call for me. However, if you abuse the privilege, the consequences would be the same." Severus debated leaving, but he figured he’d lose his authority unless he had arrived in the cellar with some purpose in mind. He couldn’t exactly rebuke Potter for playing with the chairs if he was to pretend that he wasn’t monitoring the boy. "It is time for your bath."

Potter said, "I prefer showers, you know,” as he pulled off his shirt, dropping it on the floor, and stuck his hands through the bars.

Severus had told himself that he wouldn’t rise to the bait, but Potter said it in such a bratty tone, he had to respond. As he chained the boy’s wrists, he said, "I assumed that you were astute enough to figure out how to operate something as simple as a bathtub, Potter, but once again I have made the mistake of overestimating your intelligence."

The glare vanished almost as soon as it appeared. Either the calming potions were working well, or Potter had likewise decided to try being respectful.

In the bathroom, he remembered why he had always presumed that Potter preferred baths and provided him with bubble bath liquid. The moment Potter stripped himself bare, he could feel his cheeks heating, surely turning pink. It was one thing to look at Potter’s naked body through a mirror or on a table where he could focus his mind on clinical work. It was another to see the naked body moving freely before him.

The Dark Lord had forbidden Potter from wearing clothes in the throne room as a way to degrade him, and it was degrading for Potter, but more so for everyone else involved. If it were up to Severus, the boy would be clothed at all times, despite the fact that the elder Potter had embarrassed him in front of countless classmates by stripping Severus close to naked. Potter naked just made him feel perverted and awkward, as there was nothing attractive at all in that scrawny form, and the boy had been drugged so much, he didn’t react with the shame that most children in his position would have.

In fact, to Severus’s growing horror, Potter had so little shame, he hummed happily to himself as his hands drifted to his rapidly growing prick. Although he wasn’t much to look at flaccid, it had been rather large the times Severus had seen it erect.

Merlin’s balls! He shouldn’t be able to picture his student’s dick! Severus focused his gaze solidly on the potions cabinet. Maybe he should leave? But then, Potter might take his absence as an invitation to . . . go to town. Augh! He should not be thinking of this! He seriously needed another break.

Potter shut off the water, but Severus remained focused on the potions cabinet until he could see the towel around Potter’s waist out of the corner of his eye. He glanced fully over to see Potter, cheeks bright pink, awkwardly trying to pull on his bottoms without revealing anything.

Teenagers. Grabbing their dicks one moment, blushing in shame the next. After Potter had struggled with his clothes for nearly a minute, Severus snapped, “Just put on your trousers; it’s not like I’ve not seen it already.”

The pink turned red, all the way to the tips of Potter’s ears. He dropped the towel and yanked his trousers up, tying them tightly. “Yeah,” he muttered as he scrambled back to his cage. “I forgot for a bit what a pervert you are.”

Severus wasn’t the one who’d been masturbating in front of the other! “I think you are projecting, Potter,” he said as he strode to the table and Summoned Potter’s afternoon meal.

Potter crossed his arms and scowled at Severus. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Amused at Potter’s embarrassment, Severus said, “That’s the second time you’ve stimulated yourself in my presence,” as he walked out of the cage and waved the bars closed behind him.

Potter yelled, "I forgot you were there!" at his back.

Severus headed to his room. He needed a shower himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. Or a wank. No, he hadn’t been a teenager for a long time. He certainly wouldn’t do anything now, so soon after interacting with Potter. He might think of Potter whilst masturbating. How revolting would that be?

He shuddered and stripped, transferring the contents of his pockets into a new set of robes as he removed each layer. Finally undressed, he rechecked the wards on the door and showered with the curtain left open, his wand and Albus’s wand resting on the edge of the tub.

Afterwards, he dressed, returned to his bedroom and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he fetched the photo album from his bedside table and opened it to his favourite picture of Lily.

“I know you would be upset about my decision to give your son to Lucius for the night, but it’s better that I give him to him on my terms, when I can control his actions. I don’t think he’ll gain the privilege again any time soon. He’s never been very clever. Not nearly as clever as you.”

She smiled and waved at the camera, her eyes exactly the same as her son’s from this distance. Despite all that James Potter had given his son, so much of the boy remained identical to her. The quirk of his lips when he chatted with his friends. The way he wrote the letter ‘g’. How he sometimes frowned when he concentrated on an exam, tapping his chin with his quill tip.

Severus sighed. She would be furious. He closed the photo album and returned it to his bedside table, fetching World Mythologies instead. The thought of Potter putting his beastly hands on it turned his stomach, but how it could change things should Potter learn where Severus had gotten it! Probably not for the better, but perhaps Albus was right and in that case, he needed to give something of Lily’s to Potter now, whilst the animosity remained strong between them.

Several individuals Apparated to his kitchen and he knew the Dark Lord had arrived. He slipped the book into his sleeve and went to meet his guests. In addition to the Dark Lord and Lucius, Dolohov stood in his kitchen.

Lucius’s smile could not have been more smug, but Severus found it more amusing than aggravating.

“I’ll fetch the boy, my Lord,” he offered with a bow.

The Dark Lord waved him away with a flick of his fingers.

He hurried to the cellar, slowing as he walked down the stairs and opened the door to Potter’s section of the house.

Potter was lying on his bed, reading his book. When he noticed Severus at the bars, a look of resolution crossed his face and he closed his book, pushing it to the side.

Stepping into the cage, Severus said, “I noticed that you have nearly finished reading The Hunchback. Based on your alacrity for finding trouble, I have procured another book for you to read.” Reluctantly, he handed the book over.

Potter gave a suspicious look, as though he suspected the book had been poisoned. “Thanks?”

There was nothing more he could do. “Now strip, Lucius is waiting.”

Severus hadn’t thought Potter’s face could turn any paler, but it somehow did. Potter’s fingers remained steady, but his eyes focused on one of the bedposts as he robotically removed his clothing. He stood and nearly stumbled, his legs shook so much.

For the first time in who knew how long, Severus offered support, expecting it to be rebuffed. One hand on Potter’s back was enough to steady him, and the boy seemed to straighten. Potter’s normally warm skin felt cold and, for the first time since he’d hatched the plan, Severus wondered if he’d made a mistake. Perhaps Lucius had done too much damage for Potter to handle the torture. Perhaps the boy would go catatonic.

At the top of the stairs he paused and re-chained Potter’s wrists. As gently as he could, he said, “He arrived a day early. I wouldn’t have fed you tonight if I had known.” The last thing he wanted to see was Potter being sick all over the floor again.

Potter turned and walked through the door, his legs trembling. He moved to the centre of the room and sank to his knees.

Severus walked to the dais to bow again, but the Dark Lord waved his fingers and a chair appeared.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he said as he took it.

The Dark Lord watched Potter and Lucius with raw hunger. “Enjoy the show.”

Did that mean he had to watch? Would the Dark Lord tolerate conversation? He really didn’t want to sit and admire Lucius torturing Potter. Even if he had liked Lucius and wanted to pay him the respect, torture hadn’t amused him in a long time.

He fixed his gaze on a point past Potter and adopted a bored expression. The Dark Lord would expect him to pretend to be disinterested.

A slap rang through the room and Potter jumped. Severus’s couldn’t help but look over.

In a voice that was soft yet authoritative enough to fill the room, Lucius said, “I did not give you permission to close your eyes, boy.”

Potter stared at him, his eyes wide behind the glasses he was now wearing. Were those his original glasses? Severus had assumed they’d been destroyed when Potter had been captured. If they were he needed to try to take them from Lucius or gain another copy as they could be used as a bargaining chip.

Always more concerned with presentation than content, Lucius put on a show of revealing the needles.

Apparently amused by Potter’s open display of fear, Lucius teasingly said, “I am going to stick these in you. I'll give this one to you as a gift, but you will need to ask for the rest of them. When you ask for them you will say 'another, please' and I will give it to you. Whenever I ask you a question you will answer with 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir,' is that understood?”

Of course, Potter stupidly said nothing and Lucius punished him. Knowing Potter, this portion of the evening could go on for quite some time. Not that Lucius would tire of it.

Lucius said, “I asked you a question, boy. Now give me an answer.”

To Severus’s surprise, Potter said, “Yes, sir.” Didn’t the boy intend to hold out all night?

“Much better,” said Lucius, although Severus thought he heard a bit of disappointment in his tone. Lucius had probably hoped that Potter would resist longer.

Of course, he didn’t have to wait. When Potter answered, “No, sir” to “Would you like another?” Severus inwardly groaned. He should’ve known to expect that this would be dragged out by Potter’s stupidity. He concentrated on the wall, ignoring Potter’s little whimpers of pain.

Lucius asked, “Would you like another?” as he picked up the next needle.

Perhaps Severus should try making his own bread. The recipe he’d seen the day before didn’t look that difficult, and it would be excellent to make different types of bread for the sandwiches.

“Another, please!”

Good. The boy had learnt how to play the game. Severus turned his attention back to his plans for sandwiches, ignoring the gasps.

When Lucius pushed the last needle into place, he couldn’t have been more relieved.

The Dark Lord clapped his hands and Severus didn’t allow a single hint of annoyance to cross his face. As much as he wanted Lucius to view himself in greater favour than he actually held, he couldn’t help the twinge of jealously that twisted his heart. Why should Lucius be rewarded with attention and clapping when Severus’s display had not been?

“Wonderful, Lucius,” the Dark Lord said. “I wish I had time to enjoy more of your work, but we must be off.”

Really? Was that level of arse-kissing necessary? What did it mean? Did the Dark Lord know that Severus wanted Lucius to think himself viewed more favourably than he was and thus it was a gift? Was it over the top so as to alert Lucius to the fact that it was a farce? Was it done to show Severus that the Dark Lord did value Lucius and had intended to give him the reward of torture anyway?

Dolohov, who hadn’t said a single word and seemed to have had no purpose other than to witness Lucius’s crowning moment, followed Lucius and the Dark Lord as they left.

Discomposed by the Dark Lord’s odd behaviour, Severus remained on the dais, staring after them for a moment before he remembered he needed to heal Potter. Fortunately, Lucius had removed his needles from Potter, saving Severus the trouble. He fed Potter the usual analgesic mixed with a sedative and healing potion, which the boy gulped down eagerly. When he removed the chains, Potter sagged against him like a limp doll and Severus steadied him with a firm grip on his arm.

That wasn’t so bad. No, he had no idea what it had been like for Potter. Who knew how his damaged mind had tried to make sense of his fear. For Severus, that would have been the worst part: terror without conscious reason.

Knowing that Potter would feel better after a bit of sleep, Severus didn’t give him time to reflect on what had happened, but dragged him downstairs to the bathroom. Potter’s legs shook too much for him to get in the tub on his own, so Severus partially lifted him in and turned on the taps.

For a moment, Potter just stood in the shower, staring at his body with unfocused eyes Then his hands jerked. Severus couldn’t tell if the fear or the drugs had taken more control, but Potter cleaned himself as if he wasn’t quite sure where certain parts of his body actually were.

Since Potter hadn’t objected to any of the other forms of familiarity, Severus helped him back out of the tub after he had turned off the water. He’d seen the scrawniness of Potter’s limbs, but he’d never really noticed how thin the boy was until he fully lifted him with ease. Perhaps he should be feeding him more meals - not less.

He set him on the rug and Potter sleepily swiped at a towel. Picking it up for him, Severus picked it up and towelled him off, using magic to help dry him. The black hair stood straight out as a result of the drying spell, the huge mass of hair leaving his thin face haggard.

Severus half pulled, half carried Potter back to his bed, helping him on the mattress. Potter buried his face in the pillow and Severus took that as dismissal. The healing potion would repair the small wounds and Potter would probably object to being touched anymore. As soon as he’d closed the door to the library, he pulled out the mirror. In the morning, he’d know how well the plan worked. He’d have to fix Potter an exceptionally tasty breakfast with plenty of mangoes.

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Invictus