Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Derailed	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 19739 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I:I
- 2-I:II
- 3-I:III
- 4-I:IV
- 5-I:V
- 6-I:VI
- 7-I:VII
- 8-I:VIII
- 9-I:IX
- 10-II:I
- 11-II:II
- 12-II:III
- 13-II:IV
- 14-II:V
- 15-II:VI
- 16-II:VII
- 17-II:VIII
- 18-II:IX
- 19-III:I
- 20-III:II
- 21-III:III
- 22-III:IV
- 23-III:V
- 24-III:VI
- 25-III:VII
- 26-III:VIII
- 27-III:IX
- 28-Epilogue
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- 21
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Chapter Three: Life's mystery seems so faded

Without asking, Snape had somehow moved in. Not that he really had anywhere else to go that might provide safety, but still, staying in the same house as his 'victim' was pushing things. He picked a room that was decked in Slytherin colours, as he felt more comfortable there. Harry, surprisingly, wasn't using the room decked out in Gryffindor red; the old room of Sirius Black.

Padding up the stairs later, Harry looked in. “What are you doing in Regulus' old room?”

Snape blushed. “Well, as I seem to have been appointed as your guardian, it makes sense that I am within easy reach. Why don't you use Black's room?”

Harry shook his head. “Too painful,” he admitted. “I use one of the spare rooms on the top floor.” He idly traced his fingers over the 'R.A.B.' on the door. “He found one of the horcruxes, you know, but he couldn't destroy it. Ron did it, with the sword of Gryffindor.”

Snape's eyes widened. “He pulled it out of a freezing pond?”

“H – How did you know that?”

Snape twisted his fingers awkwardly. “That was my Patronus you followed, Harry. I led you to the sword of Gryffindor. Dumbledore had told me to help you destroy the horcruxes, and he told me how important it is that when you face the Dark Lord that there are no more left.”

Harry stared blindly at the door. “Well, there are only two now. A Ravenclaw or Gryffindor one, and the one in old Snake-face himself.”

“Three,” Snape said softly, his voice full of sorrow.

“Three?”

Snape gently guided Harry into the room and sat him on the bed. There he explained Dumbeldore's hidden plan. “And, I'm sorry, Harry, really, truly, sorry, but it means that you've got to die. That horcrux in you has got to be destroyed.”

Harry was too numb to really take it in. “Me?” he said, voice blank, “I'm a horcrux?”

Snape nodded. “It's why you're a Parseltongue, and why you can see into the Dark Lord's mind, and why he can easily see into yours.”

“I'm a … horcrux?” Harry's voice still sounded dazed, then he said, completely unexpectedly, “You fucked the Dark Lord?!”

“What?! No!”

Harry stood up. He seemed to be ignoring the 'must die' portion of the conversation. “You fucked me, and I've got Voldie in me. So you fucked him.”

Snape shuddered. “Merlin! That's foul. No, I did no such thing. His body holds no attraction for me, whereas yours...” he stopped, all too aware of Harry's eyes fixed upon him.

Harry swallowed and slumped into a chair in the corner of the room. “But...this isn't some joke? Some mistake? I've got to die?” His voice was small, bleak.

As bleak as Snape felt. “Yes. Dumbledore said you have to go to your death willingly, and not try to defend yourself.”

“Is he fucking insane?!” Harry yelled, “I've spent seven years fighting Vold-”

“Don't say the name,” warned Snape.

“Right, the taboo. I've spent seven years fighting him, and now I've just got to give up? Should have left me there at the Manor. Let them rape me to death. He'd be closer to dying.” He was crying now, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared destiny in the face.

Snape wanted to get up and hold the young man, somehow take this burden from him, but there was no way he could. No way Harry would accept his comfort. So he stayed where he was and hated himself for having to be the one to tell Harry this last awful secret. Just to talk, he said, “It was Phineas Nigellus Black who told Dumbledore and me where you were. He heard you once. He said something about the 'wretched Mudblood and her bag'?”

“Don't call Hermione that!”

“I didn't,” Snape said, “Black did. But it was certainly helpful to know where you were.”

Harry shook his head. “I need to get the portrait back off Hermione. If he can go to Hogwarts, he can give Dumbledore a message from me.”

Snape eyed him cautiously, “What message?”

“Fuck you,” Harry replied calmly, although his insides writhed with fury. All this time Dumbledore had pretended he cared about Harry when really he was just fattening him for the slaughter. Let him learn just enough to know how to win each time, but never trust Harry with the whole truth, never show Harry any real love.

“I said much the same,” Snape recalled, “I was less than impressed when he told me what had to happen. All this time I've tried to keep you alive, to keep you safe, and for what? So you could die at the right time? It's sick.”

“If I'm doomed, why bother trying to heal me? Why not just fuck my brains out so I at least die happy?”

Snape's jaw worked. A part of him wanted to listen to this argument of Harry's and spread the man's thighs and plunge hard inside, but he wanted Harry's well being more than his body. As odd as that sounded, given what had happened at the Manor, he would rather Harry's mind were whole.

“If I do that, you may lose your ability to love. Certainly you will hate me, and resent Dumbledore. And how can you be a willing sacrifice if one of the people you would be dying for was the man who had practically raped you?”

Harry glowered. “So, you're insisting on this stupid plan to get me better?” He wanted to punch Snape, but stayed in the chair, although his fist closed menacingly around his wand.

“You wanted Phineas' picture?” Snape remarked, hoping to draw Harry away from murderous thoughts.

“Yes. How do I do a talking Patronus thingy?”

Snape stood up. “I'll show you.”

***

At the Burrow, Hermione was astounded when a stag Patronus appeared in front of her and spoke with Harry's voice, “Hermione, could you bring back the picture of Phineas Nigellus please? I need it. Don't worry, I'm well. Harry.”

Ron, sitting beside her on the couch, his fingers trembling slightly, looked at her. “What?”

Hermione's quick brain was working, but she couldn't see a reason for the request, other than the same one that had led her to take the picture – its twin at Hogwarts. She knew she still had the painting; it was even now stuffed into the beaded bag she'd kept so many of their belongings in.

She still felt guilt that she had fled when Harry and Ron had been caught, but Ron had told her over and over that she had done the right thing. If she had been caught and hurt, he would never have been able to live with himself. And whilst she had been free, she had managed to learn the location of one of the horcruxes.

Ron was unclear on just how that had happened, but Hermione now had another focus – Harry and whatever it was he was planning. “Don't worry about him,” Ron croaked, hating that Hermione felt such affection for the black haired man. “You told me he was fine.”

“No,” Hermione corrected, “I said he'd told me he was fine. But I don't believe it. Any more than you are fine.” She stuck a hand in her bushy hair. “But, if he's focusing on the portrait, maybe he's going after the last horcrux. If so, he really must be healing.”

“What's he got to heal?” Ron asked, “he wanted Snape to bend him over like a cheap whore. I don't remember Mal – Mal...” he faltered, unable to go on.

At once Hermione was holding him as he cried. “You've both suffered,” she said quietly.

***

At Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry was sitting in the same chair, Snape on his knees between the quivering thighs, his mouth moving deliciously on Harry's cock.
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