Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Changes	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 27108 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
CH18 AN: Thank you to my wonderful reviewers: Dedicated_Reader – thank you for wandering off to read other stuff of mine. Yes, All Forms of Caution is so fluffy compared to this. I tend to have several stories on the go at the same time (currently have a Drarry, a Snarry slave fic, a Snarry sex worker fic, a Snarry very smutty fic, the sequel to this and a Weiss Kreuz story all on the go), and generally I use writing other stories with different tones as a way of stopping me going insane! I had such fun creating the documents used in the chapters of AFOC so very happy you liked them.
As for Derailed, I still don't think it's right yet. I will get there! If you want something fluffier, Lentesco and its sequel Fall Out are fun nonsense. I do need to edit them (and re-write Lentesco, bloody hell it's bad!) as they've had some formatting issues appear during AFF's numerous updates.
And thank you for reviewing this as well as reading other stuff. I hope I shall continue to be “delightfully dark”!
Book_addict_89 – I thought you'd like my compromise. Cursed Child makes me more than sad, it makes me down right angry. I'm a fanfic writer, I have no problem with that. I've read lots of good and bad fan fic over the years. Why then does Cursed Child read like really REALLY bad fan fic?! The bit with the trolley witch – WTF?! Anyway, I need to breathe, cos if I start a rant about CC I will never get around to posting this chapter!
Phoenix-rob – You'll find out what Severus decided about the horcrux in this chapter. And as for why Remus is such a bastard, it basically comes down to him having developed an unhealthy obsession with Harry (he just wanted to fuck Harry's brains out) and let that take control, well, that and his wolfy self. He's not becoming Greyback. (Oddly enough I'm reading a Fenrir/Harry story atm on here that is so long it's stupid, but it brilliant. I don't like FG as a character, but the writers have changed him enough that he's still him but also actually likeable. It's Fragmented Soul. I'd suggest go reading it, but only if you have weeks to devote to catching up!)
djaddict – I like Lupin as a character a lot, even if I never pictured him as having a tash until after the films came out (now I always see him as David Thewlis, but he is so lovely as Lupin I don't mind). But I do get what you mean about him being ambiguous. After all, in the books he never really did anything brave or good. His behaviour was always passive. But he was the obvious choice to be the one to abuse Harry, as there was no way Albus would've let Fenrir within a mile of Harry, even if he'd known how to find the man!
Nannon10 – both answers to your wishes (who kills Remus and if they make a horcrux) are in this chapter! Enjoy!
And, seriously, thank you all. I love replying to you.
I know I should have posted this this morning (4^th June), but I woke up a little late and had too much work to do (yes, on a Sunday, yes, it's very annoying). Basically I've worked, got bored, done a slightly different job, worked again, typed up this little lot, and then I'll hopefully grab some lunch and then, you guessed it, get back to work. Oh well, think of the money, SP, just think of that.
Really important plot-type chapter here. I shouldn't say that, but there are a few key things that crop up in here.
Chapter 18 – Open up your hate
“Don't I get any last chance to say something?”
Lupin was tied to a thick oak tree deep in the Dark Forest. Since his chase of Harry, three days had passed. It had been Dumbledore who had insisted on the swift execution, but also on the slight delay so that he could spread a rumour amongst the Order that Remus had been found out by the werewolves he had been trying to turn to their side, and that it was feared the man was dead. After three days, Albus now intended to share a story of Lupin's last (fake) stand, details of which he had “learned by devious means”, and tell the Order that they no longer had a werewolf to help them.
During that time, Lupin had been tied up and had had his wand removed, and had been imprisoned in the small antechamber next to Dumbledore's main office. He had tried pleading, threatening, bargaining, and finally abusing Albus, but none of his tactics had worked. The headmaster had made his decision, and he wasn't about to change it.
Now facing him were three grim faced men: Severus, Albus, and Harry. All three held their wands threateningly at Lupin, their eyes filled with anger, and, in Albus' case, disappointment.
“No,” Snape said bluntly, replying to Remus' question. “Listening to you would make you think we have any interest in what you have to say. We don't. In all except one thing...” the black robed teacher gave the werewolf a cold look, “Nothing will change your death. So, one last question, one last truth. You turned Harry, didn't you?”
Remus looked around at the three men, wondering if he could wriggle his way out of his death. Snape's eyes were as pitiless as always. Even Harry's seemed without their usual spark of kindness.
“Look at me,” Severus ordered, “surely you'd want to brag about turning the great Harry Potter? And right under Albus' nose? Come on, I don't for one minute believe you were in another part of the forest when Harry was bitten. That's just a bit too coincidental.”
Yellow eyes gleaming, Remus straightened, and for a moment, the pleasant, friendly man was completely subsumed under the proud wolf. “Yes, I turned him. And I was the one who got to fuck his sweet ass that first time. You're planning on killing me, so why bother hiding it any more? Albus learned that there was something in the forest, and I was the one who managed to hold him up enough that his little expedition took place on a full moon.” He swung keen eyes to the white haired man, “Know that it was all your fault, Albus. He was turned because of you.”
Albus turned eyes filled with pain, regret and determination to the man he had helped for so long. “It's one more cross I shall bear, Remus, along with the pain of your death. But it won't prevent that event.”
Snape lifted his wand and aimed it between the concerned eyes. The wolf was gone, and just the rumpled man remained.
Lupin looked into the black eyes and knew he stood no chance. The green eyes of Harry were sad, but determined. He turned his attention to Dumbledore, hoping to say something that would make the older wizard practise that mercy he was renowned for. “Albus, this is all a mistake. Can't you see that? It's just something that has got out of hand. And I did help. I did. Look at him now. Look at how in control of his werewolf side he is. Thanks to me.”
Just for a moment Snape's eyes flicked to Harry's face. What he saw there made him snap his focus back to the bound man, jaw tight with fury. He promised himself he wasn't going to speak to Lupin; was never going to give him any chance to try and justify his actions, or leave Harry with some last lingering doubts before the werewolf was killed.
Sapphire eyes seeming to be without their usual sparkle, the headmaster spoke calmly to the ex-DADA teacher. “Remus, as a child I gave you a chance at this school that no-one else would have been willing to give you. As a man, I gave you a chance at this school that no-one else would have been willing to give you. And now, as a werewolf, I gave you a chance at this school that no-one should have been willing to give you, not when you have abused a young man, and revelled in it. That Harry is reasonably whole says far more about his inner strength, and Severus' inner strength than it does about the sick things you did to him at a moment when he was at his most vulnerable and in need of one of his father's friends to care for him.” He paused, and there was something terrible and dangerous in the silence. “So, no, Remus, you get no more chances. There is nothing left that could make me, or Severus, or Harry change our minds.”
It was then that the three men saw the true werewolf. Remus' face contorted. He snarled and snapped, face twisting in frustration and thwarted rage. The eyes glowed amber, flames of anger burned there as the wolf rose to the surface, fighting for its life.
Snape simply watched and waited. As much as he hated Lupin for what had been done to Harry, he would not enjoy destroying the beast. Whom it was who would be casting that fatal spell, he and the others had discussed. Argued was perhaps a better word. Each wanted to take the burden and spare the other two. But Severus had argued that Albus had asked Snape a long time ago to protect Harry, and this was the natural, final act of protection.
For three days he had sat and pondered the strange request Harry had made. The Gryffindor had longed to discuss it with the teacher, aching to say how scared he was at the idea of losing Snape, but he hadn't been allowed. Instead the older wizard had sat, brows drawn low over his dark eyes, staring into the distance. Finally he had seemed to shake himself and gave a small smile to the worried youth.
“Very well.”
That it might lead to some protection for himself was an unexpected bonus. Not that he wanted to create a horcrux, but if it gave him some chance to survive the war and stand by Harry's side afterwards … if it gave him some chance of helping the young man stand alone, then he would take it, whatever the pain it would eventually cause when the youngster left him.
But that time was not now. Now he still had the killing curse to cast and a young man to heal so that they might finally be together as they both wished to be.
Dumbledore drew in a breath, let it out and said softly, “Severus. Now.”
Black eyes cold, Snape looked into the amber ones and felt nothing: no fury, no rage, no hatred. He was numb. But that didn't make him think he wasn't ready. He knew he was.
“Severus...” Lupin said, a pleading tone in his voice.
“Avada Kedavra,” Snape said quite calmly, quite emotionlessly, but a green flash flew from the end of his wand and suddenly Lupin hung limply; held in place by the ropes binding him.
Pain gripped him as he felt his soul tear. Perhaps that was sheer fancy; after all, it wasn't as though he could ask Voldemort, and he dropped to his knees, panting at the agony lancing through him.
“Severus!” Harry cried, eyes wide and fearful.
Focusing on the snapped part, Snape began casting the spell that bound the precious part of his soul to some physical item. Unlike Voldemort, Severus had no wish to live forever or be Dark and had looked carefully into how he could survive this and still retain his own (twisted and faded) humanity. Some of the books he had dipped into (during tension filled conversation with Dumbledore) had told him of ways to avoid the almost inevitable degrading of his morality.
Disliking what was being done, even knowing the precautions Severus was taking to remain 'whole', Dumbledore approached the corpse, removed the ropes, lifted the crumpled form magically and buried Remus in the hole they had prepared earlier.
“Harry, come here, please.” The headmaster deliberately called the youngster away from watching Snape's actions.
The body of Harry's abuser slumped in the bottom of the hole, still. The cruelty and rage of the wolf was gone now, and honest brown eyes stared up unseeingly. A tear sliding down one wrinkled cheek, Albus neatly flicked the soil into place and marked a flattish stone with Remus' name. Harry and Snape both felt that Lupin didn't deserve a grave marker, but here Dumbledore had disagreed. “Whatever Remus' faults,” he had said, “we would be showing our own lack of humanity by denying him this.”
A gasp made Harry turn his attention back to the Dark magic.
“It's done,” Snape said, face sheened with sweat. His skin looked almost grey in the half light, and he was shaking slightly.
Harry had been told about the process on the previous day, after Severus had returned from a particularly long conversation with the headmaster, but had not known what item had been chosen to hold Severus' precious soul. This part of the arrangement had infuriated him, but Snape had been quite clear long before they had made their way down here to destroy the animal.
“No, Harry. We know the Dark Lord can see into your mind. He chooses not to, but it is still a possibility. I cannot risk him learning of the item and destroying it. When the time comes that you need it, I shall communicate it to you. Don't concern yourself with how. I have already considered a number of ways and have determined the best one.”
Of course, Harry had been unhappy and had tried to weedle it out of Severus, but as he had had fewer than three days before Lupin was due to die, he hadn't had the chance to try all his tricks. And the one he had most wanted to try was denied him.
Even less had he been pleased when Snape had told him that they would have to go St Mungo's for help. Severus knew of a potential lotion that could heal the wounds Harry had, but the ointment was one used by the mediwitches and wizards at the hospital, and no commercial version had ever been made available, nor had the recipe ever been released.
Annoyed, Harry had reluctantly agreed and pursed his lips angrily as he had watched the teacher write a letter to a friend of Madam Pomfrey's, who they had been assured would be discreet and willing to help.
They had been awaiting a reply whilst Lupin had been awaiting his sentence.
Now though, Remus was gone. Snape had made his horcrux, even though he had not wished to. And Harry was still incapable of having sex with the older man penetrating him.
“Do you feel any different?” Severus asked, eyes fixed on the youngster's face.
“Me? Why would I? I should be asking you that.”
“I meant now that he is no longer your dominant, can you tell? Can the wolf tell?”
Considering, head on one side, Harry thought. Inside the animal seemed a little restless, but that was down to witnessing the death of one of its own kind. As for his feelings, he felt lighter. There was a confidence in him that he hadn't had since he had been bitten. If he focused, then he could just make out the slightest trace of the wolf's possessiveness, but as that reflected his own human thoughts, he could hardly blame the beast for it.
He smiled warmly. “I'm free.”
Severus gave him an answering smile that wobbled a little around the edges. Whatever Harry felt at this moment, they were not free, either of them. To keep the wolf subdued, Snape still had to spread his legs. His other plan, that of taking Harry, was impossible due to the physical injuries within the boy's passage. And he himself now had a shredded soul. What difference would it make? Would he become colder? Less able to tolerate the youngster who shared his rooms?
No, whatever Harry said, they were not free yet.
***
It was the following morning that brought a parcel winging its way onto the staff table. Harry, eating amongst the other Gryffindors, had caught Snape's eye at the sight of the large barn owl who landed and held out a leg so that the cardboard box could be untied. Longing to hurry up to the older man and ask if it was what they had been awaiting, Harry was forced to stay where he was, trying to chew a mouthful of toast that felt as dry as dust suddenly. Beside him, Hermione was blithering on incessantly about her Arithmancy studies. Harry was used to tuning her out, but he had noticed that Ron had started paying more attention to these pointless neverending monologues, and wondered why.
“Taken your medicine this morning, Potter?” Malfoy's unwelcome voice sneered as he strolled past the place Harry occupied.
As the entire castle believed Harry had dew-soaked-pixie venom poisoning, and that he had to have regular treatment (which was why he resided close to Snape, who brewed the antidote for him), Malfoy felt that he was safe taunting his enemy.
“Well, if I hadn't, you'd be the first person I'd make aware of it,” Harry snarled back and enjoyed seeing the quickly hidden fear in the grey eyes.
Unable to think of a retort, Malfoy sauntered off, the usual cocky walk seemingly in place. Although, now that Harry had actually looked at Malfoy, he saw the ferret seemed paler and thinner than normal. A certain tension seemed to hang about him, even though he strutted almost as annoyingly as he always had.
Breakfast over, Harry, Ron and Hermione parted. Harry went off to Potions with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws whilst his two friends headed to their NEWT lessons. They would meet back up at break and head to DADA together. Harry was desperate to speak to Snape, and knew he would have to wait until period three, or possibly even wait until after school. Maybe then... he bit back a groan as he remembered Severus mentioning something about a detention with a group of third years who had sabotaged a lesson.
Somehow he got through the day. As he had feared, he had had no safe opportunity to ask Snape if the parcel had been the one they had been awaiting. During period four, he had sat with his two friends and they had begun their DADA homework before eating lunch.
With afternoon classes over, Harry headed back to their rooms. Wanting to settle and complete some work, Harry knew it would be a waste of time until he knew for certain what the parcel had contained.
Throwing himself into an armchair, he looked for his Potions book. Since learning of its re-emergence, Snape had taken to locking it in the cupboard that held the swirling memories of some of Harry's changes, the key to which only the teacher had. As he had said, he didn't mind Harry using the book for research, but it was not to be removed from the room. It was frustrating, as Harry had enjoyed reading the random notes. Knowing they were from a young Snape made the student feel he understood his teacher better.
Now though he could only stare at it in annoyance, wishing he could read some of the scathing comments the young Severus had written.
“Bloody idiots!” Severus snarled as he strode through the door. His usual black robes were covered with what looked like either very beige vomit, or very watery porridge.
Lips twitching in an effort not to laugh, Harry asked, “What happened?”
Moving into his bedroom, Snape changed whilst he spoke. “Those stupid third year Gryffindors were all meant to be cleaning out the old jars of pickled rotworm when one of them decided to try using magic to help. All the jars exploded. At the same time. Over me.”
Harry let a snigger escape before clamping his lips shut.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Shoulders shaking and tears spilling with the effort to hold his mirth in, Harry managed to gasp out, “N - no.”
“Brat.” Snape had returned to the living area and was once again dressed normally. He brushed a few flecks of dust from his clothes before fixing his obsidian glance on Harry. “You're an awful liar,” he commented and watched Harry give up the battle and laugh loudly, head thrown back, arms across his stomach to hold his aching muscles.
“S - sorry!” Harry panted as he regained control. “It's just so funny! I bet they were wetting themselves after that happened.”
“Pretty much,” Severus admitted.
He sat down and drew out the cardboard box. Instantly Harry's attention was drawn to it.
“Is that...?” Harry asked, mouth dry.
Snape opened the lid and drew out a rounded bottle filled with deep purple cream. He gently rolled the bulbous shape between his palms to warm the fluid slightly and nodded. “Courtesy of Poppy's friend at St Mungo's. The friend assures me that the amount in here will be enough to heal far more scarring than you have, so we don't have to be stingy applying it.”
“Can you do it now?”
Snape considered before finally rising and unlocking the memory cupboard. He placed the container in, back in its box, relocked the cabinet and faced the youth. “Later. You need to keep completely still for at least thirty minutes after it is applied, and I know you have a large amount of homework to do. Get through it all, to a good standard, and then you can start healing.”
***
Just over a week had passed and Harry hadn't quite dared to ask Severus how well (or otherwise) he was healing. Personally he thought he must be getting better, as each time Snape pushed into him to apply the lotion he felt less discomfort than the time before.
An unfamiliar smile lit his face more often than not, a feeling of hope sang in his heart, and a lightness made his steps more like dance moves as he went about his daily life. Hermione and Ron had certainly noticed, as had those around him. Even Malfoy, grey eyes narrowed, hands clutching almost wildly at the cutlery, had stared fixedly at the black haired boy who had almost skipped into the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday, and every morning since then.
Snape, obviously, had noticed, and wondered when Harry would broach the subject of his new attitude. It happened when he (Snape) had his fingers pushed into Harry's backside and was slicking the purple lotion gently over the hidden passage.
“I feel so much happier, Severus,” Harry said suddenly, his voice loud and vibrant in the quiet of the room.
“I had noticed,” Snape replied dryly. “Do you care to elaborate exactly why?”
Rubbing his nose and shrugging his shoulders, which was not easy when on hands and knees, and with a lower half Petrified to prevent movement, he considered. “I think it's Lupin's death. Not, I mean, the death itself, but somewhere the wolf knows that dominating influence is gone, and he feels better about it.”
Removing his digits, the teacher made no answer. He wiped his fingers free of the remnants of purple goo and then threw a blanket over Harry's naked lower half. Finally settling himself in a chair by the bed (they found it easiest to apply the lotion with Harry on his hands and knees on his own bed), he at last spoke.
“Does your werewolf need another dominant?” he asked cautiously, almost dreading the answer.
There was a silence as long as Severus' had been. Had Snape thought Harry capable of it, he would have considered that the boy was doing it deliberately as some sort of revenge; however, he knew the youth lacked the patience. The lack of reply was clearly due to the Gryffindor thinking about the problem, possibly even drawing on his werewolf instincts, before coming to any conclusions.
“I – I don't know,” came the reply after the silence had stretched thin. “Thinking about it, Lupin never seemed to have someone who had dominated him, did he? And I've tried working out what the werewolf is telling me, but it's all very confused and animalistic.”
“What has he told you?”
“I still have a dominant. And I've dominated someone too. And they're one and the same. You.”
---
CH18 AN: And I'm sure many of you saw that coming. Hopefully it was signalled without being 'slap-you-across-the-face' obvious. Oh, and I'd love to know what you think the horcrux will be. I've had one idea and rejected it as being too obvious, so please, talk to me (yes, I'm begging for reviews again). SP
CH19 preview: “How well am I healing?” he asked again, sure this time that Severus was listening to him.
Snape didn't meet his eyes.
“Severus,” Harry said, suddenly scared, “I am healing, aren't I?”
Moving around the room and sitting in the chair by Harry's bed, the teacher rubbed his lined face, an odd expression showing.
“Severus?!” Harry was panicking a little. What if he never healed? What if he could never have sex with Severus?
---
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