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
- 23
- 24
- 25
Chapter Six: Somehow I just don't believe it

Harry stood nervously at the front door. He was alone and there was no sign that any other person shared his home. Jigging from foot to foot, he wondered when Ron and Hermione would arrive, as they were today expected for a visit.

After returning the painting, Hermione had sent him a Patronus suggesting the three of them meet up and discuss whether they wanted to go back out there hunting horcruxes. Harry knew he had no interest in it, and nor would Ron. Even Hermione was only asking as she probably felt duty bound to. No, he had understood that Hermione wanted an excuse to see Harry and hopefully mend the broken friendship between her boyfriend and his best friend.

Snape had seen the unease in Harry's eyes and had offered to stay well out of the way. That had cleared one concern but raise others. Harry actually needed Snape to help him get through this visit, but he'd just have to find another way to cope. So, now, he had a thin metal collar tight around his throat, hidden by an oversized hoody he had inherited from Dudley and a tatty scarf. There was little he could do about the silver line of scar across the back of one hand where he had sliced into himself. But, except when the light caught it, it wasn't obvious.

There was a rustling noise outside the door and a faint, “Ow!”

“Hermione?” Harry whispered. “Ron?”

“It's us,” a female voice said, “and to prove it I'll tell you that Ron fetched the sword of Gryffindor out a freezing pond, to save you from drowning cos you're an idiot, and used it to destroy the locket horcrux.”

Harry opened the door and let them in. He wasn't too worried that these might be imposters, Snape was no doubt listening carefully, even if out of sight, and, besides, the house must have had new protections cast, otherwise he would have been attacked long before now.

His two visitors hurried inside and stood, a little uncomfortable, in the hallway. “We'll go into the kitchen,” Harry said, “the kettle should be somewhere near boiling now.”

Once they had all settled at the large wooden table (and Harry had heard the soft footfalls of his house-mate descend to be within hearing distance), and received drinks and been offered cakes, Hermione rushed into speech, “I know what happened has probably driven the horcruxes from your mind completely, but I thought, after you asked for Phineas' picture, that maybe you were taking it up again. If so, I – we – want to help.”

Turning to look at Ron, Harry asked bluntly, “Do you?”

Ron gave a very sullen, “Course I do.”

Somehow, Harry didn't believe it. Ron had never been too enthusiastic about living rough and trying to search for items that could have been hidden almost anywhere. And, in fairness, Harry could understand why: looking for the damned things when he'd had almost nothing to go on had been a hopeless task.

“Well there's only one left to find,” Harry said, “thanks to you destroying the one at Gringotts. And just how did you do that Hermione?”

Ron turned keen eyes to her; he had asked numerous times but she had always shook her head and refused to tell him.

Now she cleared her throat and told them. “I'm not too proud of what I did, and I know you two would have told me no if I'd mentioned my plan to you, but I thought it worth trying, once I'd reasoned out that Gringotts was probably a good bet, and the Lestrange's vault a contender. After all, You-Know-Who wouldn't have a vault in his own name, would he? Everyone's too scared to say it!”

“Right,” Harry said slowly, wondering what she was trying to avoid telling them, “go on.”

“Well, I came here. It wasn't easy as I had to dodge about fifty Death Eaters who were camped outside and who had been inside looking for stuff, but I managed it and I came here, to the kitchen, and asked Kreacher to help.” She glanced around, “Where is Kreacher?”

Harry explained that he had wanted totally isolation and had given Kreacher a holiday. Hermione had looked both pleased and concerned at his admission.

“He was able to get into the Lestrange vault and he found Helga Hufflepuff's cup and brought it back to me here. Escaping from here was really difficult, and I thought they'd got me cornered at one point, but Kreacher made this huge noise to distract them, and I wriggled away and could disapparate.”

Ron and Harry just stared at her in disbelief. “Well, I still had the sword so I used that to destroy the horcrux.” She shrugged as though it had been no big thing, rather than a huge blow against Voldemort.

“You're brilliant, Hermione, you know that? Really brilliant!” Harry even managed a smile at her as he expressed his opinion of her actions.

“Yeah, brilliant,” Ron muttered sourly, “you wouldn't tell me what happened would you? But, he asks and it all comes bubbling out. Gotta impress Potter! Let me know if I'm just in the way.”

Completely bemused, Harry just stared. “Ron … I'm gay.” The other boy just looked at him uncomprehendingly, “Oh for heaven's sake!” he cried, “I like sex with men!”

Ron stood up so fast he nearly knocked over the chair. “You like ….?” his voice was filled with horror.

“Way to get your priorities straight,” Harry muttered, “Hermione almost gets killed and you're just pissed off that she told me. I tell you I'm gay and you act like the world is ending!”

“You can't be … that! You went out with Cho in fifth year!”

“And I dreamt about being fucked by men in sixth year,” Harry snapped, rising as well, irritated at the red-head's attitude. “And, in case you missed it, which I know you didn't, I enjoyed Snape fucking me.”

Making retching noises, Ron rushed from the room. Hermione shook her head sadly as her boyfriend left before throwing Harry a look of annoyance. “Did you have to say it so bluntly?” she asked, “Ron is still really struggling with what Malfoy did to him, and having you ramming it down his throat like it's fine is just too much to bear.”

“How'd you want me to say it? How else is there to say it?”

“Well,” Hermione considered, so used to answering questions that she gave his problem her usual careful thought, “you could say you've found someone you want to share your life with. And that person happens to be a man.”

“Found someone to share my life with?” Harry repeated. “Are you serious? I couldn't say that, even if I am gay! That's ridiculous!”

Hermione glowered at him, “Well, your method didn't get much better results, did it?” She looked around the kitchen, “I assume,” she said, her voice cold, “that he's tucked away somewhere, listening in?”

“Quite right, Miss Granger,” came Severus Snape's smooth voice as he moved into sight, coming into the kitchen.

She gave Harry a look that said all too clearly she didn't understand him before glaring at her ex-teacher. “You hurt Harry,” she accused.

“I did.” He paused before adding, voice unpleasant, “But I didn't notice you rushing around to help pick up the pieces.”

Defensively, Hermione shook her head, “I – I had Ron to look after.”

It was unfortunate that Ron chose that moment to return from the bathroom. He was a little green around the edges, and seeing Snape didn't help. He stared in disbelieving shock at Harry then at the older wizard. His eyes flicked between the two as if expecting someone to help him come to a conclusion that didn't involve his supposed friend having sex with another man and liking it.

“Yes, Weasley, I sleep with Potter.” Snape clarified; although, as both he and Harry knew, it was only sleeping, rather than a euphemism for sex. However, neither felt the need to explain that part of their relationship.

“Oh shit,” Ron moaned, looking like he might vomit. “Was it even capture? Or has he been … doing you since before you left school?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Didn't you read the papers? They were probably full of all the nasty little details of what we did after I was captured. All the filthy things: the blow jobs and the times I came screaming his name...”

“That's enough!” Both Snape and Hermione said the words. A stern look from Snape made him drop his eyes.

Harry knew he'd gone too far in pushing Ron and backed down, “And no, we never had sex whilst I was at school. He never knew I even fancied him at school.”

Snape's mouth fell open. “You did what?!”

Harry gave him a humourless grin. “I used to dream of being fucked, and it was always you I dreamt of. It drove me mad... and you never gave me any credit cos during those damned Occlumency lessons you never once saw a peep of my dreams did you? I had to let other stuff show to bury them!”

Ron gave the ex-teacher no chance to reply. He began yelling at Harry, “You sick fuck! I bet you loved being in his room when we were taken! I bet you just loved letting him rip into you and tear you open and fuck you til your insides turned to mush...” somewhere along the way Ron had stopped addressing Harry and was reliving his own terrible experiences. Hermione slid a hand on his arm and glared at Harry.

“He needs more time,” she insisted, “and you stand there and glory in the things he still has nightmares about.”

“It wasn't much fun for me, either, Hermione,” Harry reminded her, “Yes, I was lucky that it was Snape who buggered me, but he didn't give me a lot of choice in the matter.”

“And he is far from over what happened, Miss Granger. I'm surprised you didn't see him falling apart earlier. I saw it across a court room,” came Snape's voice. He spoke calmly, but there was something dangerous lurking at the back of his eyes. All three of his former students recognised the signs: he was about to lose his temper.

Harry went forward while the other two backed away. “It doesn't matter,” Harry told the older man, his hand touching a cheek red with rage, “Honestly. We're working stuff out together.”

Snape's anger receded somewhat. He crossed his arms and glowered at the younger people.

“Er... well, if you don't need our help with the horcruxes, we'll go.” Hermione's voice was high and strangled as she stove for normality and fell far short.

Without even pretending to want them to stay, Harry nodded and showed them out. He let his head thump against the closed front door as he did so. Something had definitely ended with the truth about his sexuality. Why it should have mattered to Ron so much Harry didn't know. After all, Lucius Malfoy was presumably straight. He had raped Ron to torture him, not because he had any great longing for Ron's body.

A hand stroked his back and he jumped. He had been so lost for a moment that he had felt himself back in that place, and the touch had been a shock.

Snape turned him around and looked into the green eyes. “Tell me,” he commanded.

Harry shook his head. “I'm not thinking of hurting myself,” he said honestly, “I was thinking about why Ron can't cope with me wanting a man.”

Not wanting to examine the pitiful excuse for a mind that Weasley had, Snape bent his head and kissed the younger man. Although always enthusiastic, there was a slight desperation there that told the older wizard that whatever Harry said, the visit had upset him.

Which meant that Snape would have to help him feel better...
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