Nights of Gethsemane | By : starcrossedkayla Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 53273 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Lilith - Thanks!
cravedom - That he does! Thank you, I've been trying.
Rosei - That blowjob was Harry's downfall :D You know Harry's not going to be able to hold onto his "straight" badge for long now...]]
Harry woke the next morning before Snape entered the hallway. He pretended he was still asleep and easily dodged the spells Snape cast at him. Once he had proven himself, Snape removed the rest of the bandages. Harry’s fingers appeared to be working fine. He wiggled them as Snape served him breakfast. Harry shoved the food into his mouth, eager to begin his training. Snape frowned at him as he drank his tea.
“What will we do today?” Harry asked as he hurried through his morning routine.
“You will practise dodging while restrained. I will keep your wrists chained together.” Snape got to his feet and cleared the table.
Harry held up his wrists for Snape to cast the chaining spell.
“Concretio Ferratilis!” After chaining him, Snape led him upstairs to the practice room which had been cleared of furniture.
Harry walked to the centre of the room. He wasn’t too concerned about this task. He had gotten quite adept at dodging with a minimal effort and he felt confident he could escape even with the chain in place. Snape began the exercise and Harry easily ducked and weaved as he avoided even six projectiles at once with ease. Snape returned the furniture to make the exercise harder, but Harry had learned to use the pieces to his advantage and hadn’t been hit once by the time they stopped for lunch.
“It’s too easy.” Harry curled his legs and accepted the plate from Snape.
Snape sat in his favourite chair and primly ate his meal. Harry wondered on how earth Snape managed to eat the sandwiches without losing at least half of the ingredients like he did. “We will try other methods, but I don’t think having your hands restrained will be much of a problem.”
“What if my feet are restrained?”
“We will practise that too,” Snape nodded.
“How can I get close to the Death Eaters if I am tied to something?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“I will train you how to get rid of your chains.” Snape put down his sandwich and looked down on Harry menacingly. “However, you are never to do this before the final battle. No matter what happens, you must never let the others be aware of this ability until I give the signal for you to attack.”
Harry swallowed hard. He didn’t like that idea at all. “What happens if you die?”
“Then you must try to get the Dark Lord to kill you.”
“Kill me?” Harry dropped his sandwich, spilling its ingredients all over his plate.
“There is a reason the spell rebounded on the Dark Lord when he tried to cast it on you all those years ago,” Snape explained. “You must try to get him to cast the Avada Kedavra on you.”
“It didn’t work because my mother gave her life for me,” Harry explained. “It won’t happen again, her protection can’t help me a second time.”
“Your mother’s love is protecting you and will protect you more than you will ever know,” Snape said softly.
“If you say so,” Harry doubtfully repaired his turkey sandwich and finished it off. “So what’s the signal?”
“I will let you know closer to the date.” Snape cleared away their empty plates and unchained Harry. “Put your hands behind your back.”
Harry immediately did so and Snape chained them together. The Death Eater walked to the side of the room and began the exercise again. Having his hands tied behind his back messed Harry up and he wasn’t nearly as proficient at dodging. He tripped and fell numerous times, Snape catching him with his wand each time he stumbled towards something sharp.
Snape had just returned Harry upright after a fall when Harry tripped on an end table and fell towards a couch. Snape didn’t stop the fall because it was towards a soft surface. Harry tried to use the force of his fall to propel himself back on his feet but he overcorrected and smacked his head against a bookcase.
“Ow!” He was more startled than hurt.
Snape approached. “Did you hit your head?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t really hurt.” Harry clumsily got to his feet.
Snape steadied him with one hand and poked the back of Harry’s head with the other. “Are you sure? You don’t want to attract the Dark Lord’s attention.”
“Yeah… ow, don’t jab it!”
Suddenly Snape stiffened, his grip on Harry’s arm tightening. “Someone’s here.” He pushed Harry down onto his knees and sent the balls away.
The door flew opened, and Bellatrix stepped into the room.
“Severus,” she hissed in displeasure. “I should’ve guessed you were a nonce.”
Harry’s face burned. He was kneeling naked before Snape’s crotch with his hands tied behind his back. “I’m not a child.”
Snape backhanded Harry, knocking him facedown into the carpet. Harry was too shocked to do anything but lay there as Snape put his foot on Harry’s neck, pinning him to the floor.
“You haven’t trained the pet very well, have you?” Bellatrix sneered. “If he were mine, I’d have him begging me to hurt him.”
“I prefer him to be defiant,” said Snape coolly, his voice deadly. “To me there is nothing sweeter than watching the transformation from foolish courage to helpless tears.”
Bellatrix’s horrible laugh ran up and down Harry’s spine. “That is true. Give me a show while we speak.”
“Normally I make him clean the rooms at this time of day.”
“How boring.” She sat in Snape’s favourite chair. “Show me something better.”
Harry wanted to get up and run back to his cell but he forced himself to remain calm and stationary. He wondered why he had ever trusted Snape; the man was a Death Eater! Snape’s voice was so cruel and cold that Harry was sure something terrible was about to happen to him. Snape’s foot moved off Harry’s neck, and he gasped for breath even though Snape hadn’t been crushing his airway. His arms were bent at the elbows and bound together so that they were parallel. Snape grabbed him by the back of his hair and yanked his head up. Harry felt bonds appear around his neck just as they had when Snape had raped him the first time. No. He had asked Snape not to do this. He had asked him to do anything but this. The man was a Death Eater and would hurt Harry in the worst possible way.
When Snape grabbed his ankles, Harry was so sure what was coming next that he struggled violently, even though his attempts to get away cut off his air. He was so panic-stricken he almost didn’t realize that Snape was binding his ankles together instead of spreading them apart. He wasn’t going to be raped. He forced himself to calm down as Snape pushed his calves up so that his feet pointed at his head. He felt Snape connect the bindings between Harry’s throat and ankles before stepping away. Harry had to keep his head and legs in place or else he’d choke himself to death. It was a terrible position to be in, and he knew that if Snape didn’t let him out in a few hours he’d kill himself, but he was willing to take it over other forms of torture.
A buzzing filled his ears as the Death Eaters used Muffliato to prevent him from overhearing their conversation. His muscles ached and he wanted to lower his head and rest, but he couldn’t do so without cutting off his airway. He tried to roll himself on his side to ease his aching muscles, but when he began to attempt to do, so he ended up choking himself and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it safely. He stole glances at the Death Eaters, but only Bellatrix was watching him. Harry wasn’t about to attempt lying on his side unless he was sure Snape was paying attention so that the Death Eater could come save him if he ended up strangling himself instead.
After what seemed like ages, Bellatrix finally got to her feet and crossed the room, Snape following behind her. They left through the door together and Harry had a moment of panic as the door closed behind Snape. How could the Death Eater leave him here like this? What if he died? Thankfully, Snape returned after a few seconds and released Harry’s bonds. Harry lay on the floor and gasped for breath, delighted to be able to breathe normally again. Snape approached and touched Harry’s neck lightly.
“Does it hurt?” His voice was still cold but not nearly as arctic as it had been, before and his fingers were chilly yet gentle. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought Sex and Training Snape was a different person than Rape and Torture Snape.
“I’m just sore,” Harry pushed Snape’s hand away and got to his feet.
“That is enough for today,” Snape stood and headed for the door. “Did you learn your lesson, or will you antagonize more visiting Death Eaters?”
“I wasn’t trying to do that.” Harry followed after Snape.
“You spoke without thinking,” Snape correctly guessed. “I have warned you about that many times.”
“I’m trying,” Harry grumbled.
“Not enough,” challenged Snape. “If Bellatrix had wanted to torture you for your disrespect it would have been a hundred times worse than what I did to you. You were very lucky she was in a hurry. What if your actions or words destroy our plan or cause one of the Death Eaters to accidentally kill you?”
“Voldemort said I wasn’t to even be hurt when he isn’t around,” Harry pointed out.
Snape grabbed Harry’s cuffs and pushed him into the wall of the bathroom, pinning him with his larger body as he leaned in close, his face clearly visible at the shorter distance.
“Think, Potter,” he growled, his black eyes glittering. “The Dark Lord has to tell them to stop sometimes even when they are in his presence.” He stepped away from Harry and twisted the young wizard’s hands behind his back, holding them with his right as he pushed Harry forward to bend over the edge of the tub. He opened the taps with his left and water poured into the tub.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked in alarm.
“I’m teaching you a lesson.” Snape pushed Harry’s head towards the water. “What if I were replaced by another guard? A guard who felt it was more amusing to hold your head underwater instead of giving you baths. What if you angered this guard enough during one of those sessions that he was so filled with rage, he held your head under longer than he intended and you drowned. Do you believe that is impossible?” Snape shoved Harry’s head so that he was only an inch above water. “Do you really believe that you don’t have the ability to enrage a Death Eater to the point where he would accidentally kill you?”
“No.” Harry believed that Snape would do it too.
Snape released him and stepped to his corner of the room. “Yes, the Dark Lord would kill any Death Eater who accidentally murdered you, but that would not bring you back from the dead.”
Harry climbed into the tub with shaking limbs. He turned off the water. Snape could be so scary sometimes. He hated it when Snape was rough with him; he wasn’t a child that needed to be scolded.
“I understand that you dodge most efficiently when you act without thinking so I am reluctant to order you to think before you do anything. Ideally, you should have two mindsets – your training mindset and your slave mindset. While you are training and during the final battle you should rely on your well-honed instincts. While you are playing the submissive slave, you should think before you do anything at all.” Snape brought the muscle lotion over to set on the edge of the tub and remained there, looking down at Harry. “If you can’t manage such a task, at least think before you speak. Will you do that?”
“I’ll try…” Harry clutched the shampoo bottle. “I just don’t see how you can let someone call you a child molester and not want to punch them.”
“She was trying to provoke me,” explained Snape as he stepped away. “If I had responded with anger, it would’ve been exactly what she wanted. You need to control your rage and use it to your advantage.”
“I’m trying.” Harry hated Snape’s lectures. What did the Death Eater know about what he was going through? Telling him to be calm and not let his emotions run away with him was very easy when you weren’t being tortured and abused on a near daily basis.
“Not enough.”
Harry threw the shampoo at him. “IT’S NOT EASY, OKAY?”
Snape stalked towards him and Harry jumped out of the tub and tried to escape out the door. Snape flicked his wand and the rug moved under Harry and he was on his back with Snape on top of him, holding him down, before he knew what had happened.
“You insufferable brat!” Snape raged. “Don’t tell me you thought before you did that!”
“Get off me!” Harry bucked his hips, trying to throw the Death Eater off of him. “You have no idea what it’s like! They hurt me – you hurt me – all the time, and I can’t do anything about it!”
“You can do something about it!” Snape insisted, holding Harry firmly in place, his face twisted in rage and his eyes burning. “You can follow my instructions and learn how to train yourself while playing the slave so that when you rise up to defeat them you will actually win. You don’t have to trust me, but at least let me help you!”
“Let you help me?!” Harry laughed. “Don’t lie to me; I know I’m helping you! You will never be rid of Voldemort unless I kill him.”
“And defeating the Dark Lord does not benefit you in the slightest? I know you. I know your kind…Gryffindor martyrs who become involved even when there is absolutely no need to.” Snape’s features softened and he spoke in a calmer tone, “If I took you away to the other side of the world and gave you luxury, you’d loathe it, wouldn’t you? You’d try to come right back here to save everyone even if it meant your death. You’ll never be at peace until you kill the Dark Lord or he kills you.”
“Of course!” Harry glared up at him. “It’s because I have courage. I’m not a cowardly Slytherin; I’ll do what’s right, no matter what I have to sacrifice!”
Snape released him and stood up. “Then your way forward is clear. You will do everything in your power to destroy the Dark Lord, even if it costs you your life.”
“And how can I do that when I am trapped in here?” Harry asked suspiciously. “If you want to defeat Voldemort then why not help me escape? You know I will come back to kill him.”
“You think I would survive very long if I were to help you escape?” Snape pushed down his sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark. “If I let you out alone, you’d be captured again in minutes. Furthermore, the Dark Lord’s priorities have shifted since the last time you were on the run and this time, he would stop at nothing until he had you again even if that meant he had to track down all the Weasleys and kill them one by one. I wonder… would Ginevra be first or last?”
“Stop it!” Harry couldn’t bear to hear it.
Snape plucked a towel off the rack and draped it over Harry’s shoulders. “I know it isn’t easy, but I wouldn’t be trying to help you if I didn’t believe you could do this. I want the Dark Lord destroyed, and you are the only wizard with the ability to actually do it.”
He offered his hand and Harry took it, allowing Snape to pull him to his feet. He kept the towel around himself as he followed Snape back to his cell. He was annoyingly hard for some reason. He found his clothes and pulled them on, keeping his back to Snape. He had gotten used to nudity and hadn’t worn them for days but he felt the urge to wear them now. Snape spelled dinner on the table.
“From now on, I want you to think before you say anything, even in my presence. Just regard it as another form of training. You wouldn’t have been able to elude five projectiles at the same time if I had started with such a high number. Before you say anything, take a breath and contemplate your words,” Snape suggested.
Harry nodded as he dug into his chicken. He could do that. He had learned to hold his tongue around Uncle Vernon. Of course, what his relatives had done to him was nothing compared to what the Death Eaters did on a regular basis.
“Why do you want Voldemort destroyed?” Harry doubted he was going to get a straight answer but he had to ask.
Snape peered at him over his tea. “As I said before, you have probably observed how even my best efforts to please the Dark Lord have been futile. He has increased his demands and the price of failure over the years, and I desire to have more dominion over my own affairs.”
“What will you do then?”
“Return to teaching somewhere else, free of external obligations.”
He was glad that Snape respected him enough to admit that he was after the destruction of Voldemort purely for his own selfish reasons and wasn’t going to try to convince Harry that he was doing it out of the goodness of his own heart. It was just as Harry expected and fit with what he knew of Snape. Harry still suspected that Snape wanted to become the next Dark Lord himself, but was willing to accept Snape’s explanation for now.
“I hate watching you bow and scrape even while he treats you like shite,” Harry told him. “He’d kill you in a second if you got in his way or he thought it would help him in the slightest. I’ve seen him do it.”
“I know,” Snape nodded.
“Then why –?”
Snape held up his hand. “You didn’t think first. Take a breath and say the words in your head before you say them out loud.”
It irked Harry but he did as Snape asked, breathing deeply and gathering his thoughts before saying, “Why do you do such horrible things for him when you know he doesn’t give a damn about you? I can see why people are willing to die for the Order, but not for Voldemort.”
“There are only a few who are willing to die for the Dark Lord. For most of us, the ideas were more important than the wizard,” Snape explained.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about how you hate ‘mudbloods.’” Harry drank his pumpkin juice.
Snape’s fingers twitched around his cup and his eyebrows drew in together but he did not say anything in response. Harry was surprised by the Death Eater’s reaction. He knew Snape disliked Muggles, but to have such a reaction at the mere mention of them was a bit out of hand.
“If you had had a muggle born friend like Hermione I doubt you would hate them so much,” he offered. “You know –”
Snape stood up so fast, his chair fell over with a loud crack and Harry jumped in surprise. “Are you finished or will I be forced to remain here and listen while you prattle on about every asinine thought that enters your empty head?” the Death Eater demanded in a vicious tone.
“I’m finished,” Harry quickly put down his empty cup, staring up at Snape in shock. He was too stunned to think up a retort.
Snape cleared the dishes with a jerk of his wand. “Get to bed,” he spit out before storming out of the cell.
Harry stared after him. He hadn’t meant to be offensive, and Snape’s reaction was really over the top. He brushed his teeth and puzzled over it. As far as he knew, Snape had been mostly involved in fights with the Marauders who were all pure blood except for Lupin who was half-blood. It was so obvious, he almost didn’t remember it: Snape’s father! Harry had almost forgotten the other bits of Snape’s past he had seen. He remembered a small boy crying as an ugly man yelled at a trembling woman. Snape’s father probably hated the fact that his wife was a witch and his son a wizard. Harry couldn’t imagine growing up with a father who hated you for what you were.
The Dursleys had disliked Harry because they thought he might be a wizard, but they had never told him the reason for their dislike. Harry always thought they hated him because they disliked anyone who wasn’t in their immediate family who didn’t have a lot of money. If Harry had known he was being picked on for being a wizard, would he have developed a different opinion of Muggles? Harry didn’t think so; he had not held the Dursley’s behaviour against other Muggles after he had known. Snape probably just mirrored his father’s dislike of anything different, while Harry had ignored his relatives’ opinions of ‘others.’
Harry pushed up his mattress to examine his collection of books. He still had the remains of the myth book with his letter tucked carefully inside, Cosmos, and the art book. Even though he had already read through the art book and hadn’t finished Cosmos, he pulled out the art book and flipped through the pages.
Seeing the nude bodies excited him, and he turned to the modern art page. Picasso had painted works of naked women, but they just weren’t erotic like the Renaissance paintings were. Harry reread the descriptions of the modern paintings. In the text opposite a particularly strange-looking Picasso was the story of how a man had complained that Picasso’s paintings weren’t realistic. Picasso had asked to see an example of realistic art and when the man pulled out a photograph of his wife, the artist had criticised it as unrealistic, saying that the woman was probably not three inches tall and two-dimensional. Harry still thought the paintings were ugly, but he was starting to understand what Snape meant about appreciating a different aesthetic.
He turned back to the Greek sculpture of the Doryphoros. Although it didn’t arouse him the way Sleeping Venus by Giorgione had, he could appreciate the well-proportioned body of the male athlete. Did girls find the classical male forms arousing? If he looked like Doryphoros would Ginny be more inclined to sleep with him or less? Thoughts of sleeping with Ginny revived his member and he closed the book and put it back under his mattress. He was embarrassed to masturbate so soon after having sex. He buried his face in his pillow, remembering how he had wanked right after the last session.
It wasn’t as though he was aroused by gay sex. It was just incredibly hard to stay flaccid when someone had your dick in their mouth. The thought of Snape giving him head was the worst thing to think about just then because all the blood in his body rushed to his cock immediately. He was not going to wank to the memory of Snape going down on him. He wasn’t. Harry clenched his pillow and thought of Voldemort and Umbridge having sex until his organ had calmed down enough to let him sleep.
[[Wiki page on the Sleeping Venus.]]
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