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. |
Lioncourt - Yes, he gets quite desperate!]]
Harry woke the next morning with a painful hard-on. His body just wasn’t going to let him rest, was it? Then again, enough time had passed since he had had sex that he supposed it was safe to wank now. He pushed down his bottoms, letting his prick spring free. God, he was so fucking horny. He reached for his dick and had almost touched it when he heard Snape’s footsteps in the library. He hurriedly redressed and flipped onto his stomach, his eyes watching the hallway.
Snape stepped through the library door and began casting spells at Harry as soon as he was in range of the young wizard. Harry effortlessly dodged, and Snape stopped the exercise shortly to serve breakfast.
Harry hid his hard-on as he stumbled to the table. He focused on his breakfast, wishing his penis down so he could use the toilet before practice started. It took forever to melt, especially whenever he glanced at Snape. Harry couldn’t make out Snape’s mouth clearly, but whenever the Death Eater opened it to take a sip of his tea, Harry’s penis twitched in excitement, clearly remembering it had been in there before. Okay, maybe not masturbating was a mistake. If he had masturbated then he wouldn’t be so desperately horny that he couldn’t even look at Snape without wanting to wank.
“What did you have planned for today?” Harry asked to try to derail his dirty thoughts.
“You need to master dodging with your wrists chained behind your back,” Snape sent away his finished tea.
“Oh yeah,” Harry nodded. “Is there a way we can practise that where I don’t knock myself against sharp objects?”
Snape’s finger traced his mouth as he thought. Harry had seen Snape do it many times since his fifth year and had barely noticed it, yet this time it made his penis thicken. He cast his eyes down to his omelette, knowing his face must be turning red.
“I suppose I could spell cushioning onto the furniture to prevent any falls from hurting you,” Snape finally spoke. “Clearing the room would only be a short term solution, and I feel the quicker you master this particular lesson, the better off we both will be.”
“As far as lessons go, it’s my least favourite,” Harry admitted as he cleaned his plate. “I’ll be glad once we can move on to something better.”
Snape was thinking again, and the movement of his finger was driving Harry insane.
“Can you stop doing that?” He snapped before he could stop himself.
“Doing what?” Snape’s eyebrows drew in as he frowned in confusion.
This was exactly what Snape meant when he said that Harry needed to learn to think before he spoke. “Uh…. nothing.” He hurried over to brush his teeth. He was never going to become flaccid at this rate. The thought of taking off his clothes and revealing his hard-on to Snape made him want to die of embarrassment. He needed to take care of it before he went to practice. “Can I have fifteen minutes alone?”
“Why do you need fifteen minutes?” asked Snape suspiciously.
“No reason, I just err….like to meditate occasionally.”
“You like to meditate?” Snape asked in a tone which clearly communicated that he knew Harry was lying.
Harry kept his back to Snape. “I need to wank, okay?!”
Snape made a noise of derision. “Teenagers.” He pushed back his chair and strode out of the cell. Once Harry heard the library door close, he dashed to the toilet, yanked down his bottoms, and grabbed his dick as if he were meeting it for the first time. He only needed to pull his foreskin up over his swollen head and back five times before he was coming, his cock spurting ferociously as he sprayed his semen into the toilet bowl.
After he had calmed down, he went through the rest of his morning routine. Snape stepped back into the hallway when Harry was putting on his deodorant.
“Have you finished, or should I leave until you can get a hold of yourself?”
“Ha ha,” Harry muttered. “I’m finished.” He stripped and dumped his clothes on the bed. Snape opened the bars for him and he stepped through, following the Death Eater upstairs. He refused to be embarrassed by his masturbatory habits. He was a healthy teenager who had spent the previous night looking at pictures of naked women.
“Lentesco!” Snape cast on each piece of furniture. Harry touched the table and was surprised to find that it was soft as a pillow. He was amazed that it could still stand.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Harry did so, moving to the centre of the room once he was chained. Snape started the exercise, only sending a few balls towards Harry at a time. Even with the low number of projectiles, Harry stumbled as he tried to escape. He doggedly kept dodging until he was able to evade three without falling arse over tits every five minutes. By the time Snape added a fourth projectile, he had figured things out and managed to stay upright until Snape added the fifth. Five confused him, and he stumbled quite a few times before they stopped for lunch.
“Can we go back to you trying to hex me and me trying to escape?” Harry requested once Snape had entered the room with lunch and unchained his wrists.
“’May we,’ Potter,” corrected Snape. “We will practice in that style tomorrow. For now, I want you to concentrate on this task.”
“Will you show me how to break through the chains now?”
“Did you think before saying that?” Snape raised an eyebrow at him.
“No,” admitted Harry.
“I want you to use at least one word that begins with a ‘t’ in every sentence you speak to me for the rest of the day,” Snape said.
“Why?”
“That wasn’t a sentence.”
“Why d’you want me to use words that begin with ‘t’?” Harry asked.
“So you will think before you talk.”
“Okay… I will… try that.” Harry returned to his sandwich before he remembered his original question. “So… will you show me how to break through the chains?”
“Not until you have mastered dodging while bound,” Snape insisted. “Otherwise you won’t practice to the best of your ability.”
Harry pushed away his empty plate. “Can we begin now?”
Snape frowned at him.
“Oh yeah… um… can we train now?”
“’May,’ Potter,” Snape sighed. “’May we train.’” He stood up and recast the chaining spell between Harry’s cuffs.
They practiced for a few more hours, Harry able to dodge five fairly successfully by the end. Snape stopped the exercise short of their normal ending time.
“No more for today?” Harry asked in disappointment.
“I have fallen behind in my brewing,” admitted Snape. “If I don’t catch up soon, the Dark Lord will have my head.”
“Then you should go,” Harry acknowledged.
“Put on the muscle potion this time,” Snape reminded him as they stepped into the bathroom.
“I won’t forget,” he nodded then quickly added, “to put the potion on.”
Snape took his chair.
Harry climbed into the tub. “I think I’m going to ask for treacle tarts when I win tomorrow.”
“And if you lose, you will clean the throne room,” Snape answered.
“Aren’t you going to make me work in your potions lab or something like that?” Harry asked him curiously.
“You are forbidden from that location,” Snape reminded him.
“Still?”
“‘T’ words, Potter,” Snape insisted.
“Um… I’m still forbidden from that location?”
“You will always be,” confirmed Snape.
“That’s annoying,” Harry frowned and ducked under the water to rinse his hair.
“I never would have thought you’d be eager to visit my potions lab.”
“It’s better than doing nothing in my cell.” He stepped out of the tub. “Not as good as training of course,” He quickly added, picking up the potion.
“I imagine few things are for you.”
“Yeah…” Harry worked the potion into his legs. “If you thought my last request was strange, you are going to think this one is outrageous.” He shifted his body to look at Snape. “I’d like to read some books on theories behind different kinds of offensive magic. If you won’t let me practise it, then I want to try to learn it through theory. Hermione had me study the theory behind summoning charms when I couldn’t do it on my own, and it worked pretty well, so I think it could help me here too.”
Snape moved forward and put his hand on Harry’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. Are you sure you aren’t ill?”
Harry tried to laugh and scowl at the same time. “Oh come on, I know I’m not the best student, but this is something I really have to learn.”
“Yes…” agreed Snape, taking the potion from him and rubbing it into Harry’s shoulders. “I am sorry to tell you that I can not give you any wizarding books. Purebloods will dismiss Muggle literature as trash but regard any form of magical knowledge as dangerous. I do not have time to copy the words by hand, nor would it be safe for me to do so. Books can be dismissed, notes and scrolls can not.”
“Don’t you think I should learn at least some offensive spells?” Harry leaned forward so Snape could access the rest of his back with ease.
“You already know a fair amount. Besides, did you not evade the Dark Lord with Expelliarmus?” Snape’s expert fingers worked out the tension in Harry’s lower back. Harry wanted to lie down on the rug and let Snape give him a full body massage, but he knew Snape needed to go brew.
“Yeah, but that only stopped him because of my wand, which was destroyed,” Harry admitted.
Snape washed his hands in the sink. “Then try to take his. They were twins, were they not?”
“That’s true… if I grabbed a random wand it would probably harm me, but if I get his I should be able to wield it,” Harry mused as he pulled the towel around himself.
Snape led him back to his cage. “I would not suggest using any other wand unless you have had the chance to wield it before the final battle.”
Harry sat down in his chair. “So I should just destroy them? I mean, if a Death Eater lost his wand and I came across it or I disarmed him.”
“That is what I would advise.” Snape tapped the table to produce dinner for Harry.
Harry began to eat his stew when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “How do you have time to make all this food and keep it warm or cold? I am with you for at least eight hours of the day, maybe as much as twelve and yet you always have three meals pre-made.”
“I do not require as much rest as you. I have several hours of my own before you wake and after you sleep,” Snape explained. “I use a magical device to keep the food fresh and at the proper temperature.”
“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be magic used around me?”
“The Dark Lord wishes for the magic to be minimised, but I managed to convince him to not forbid any magic in your presence,” Snape stepped out through the bars. “I must attend to my duties. If you wish to train in your cage, I’d suggest learning how to get to your feet from the floor as quickly as possible. Spread the sheets out on the tiles so that you don’t injure yourself.”
“I won’t,” Harry promised. “I mean… um… I’ll soften the tiles.”
Snape walked off.
Harry wasn’t really very hungry yet, so he put down his spoon and did as Snape suggested. He practiced getting to his feet while his hands were chained; simulating the experience by clasping his hands in front of himself and behind his back. He stopped before he felt tired and finished his meal before dressing.
He lifted his mattress to retrieve the art book when he saw his myth book. He pulled that book out instead and sat on the edge of the bed, examining his note. Touching the letters made him lonely for Hermione and Ron. Was he really trapped in here with no way out? Harry trusted Snape not to hurt him unnecessarily, but…
Harry carefully re-rolled the letter and returned it to the book. Snape was his enemy and he had been pretending to not hate Snape for so long he had almost believed it. Dumbledore had given him a task, and he needed to fulfil it. Ron and Hermione would do their best but they needed him. He needed them.
He put the book back under the mattress and slid under the covers. The loneliness that had been buried in his chest slowly seeped out into all his bones. He had spent most of his life alone, but now he wanted nothing more than to laugh with Ron, talk with Hermione, and snog Ginny. He wanted to watch the twins play pranks, listen to Mrs. Weasley scolding her children, help Hagrid with whatever horrible new pet he had recently acquired, listen to Professor McGonagall’s lectures, and help the Order. He wondered how Tonks, Lupin, and the others were doing without him. Would they know what to do if he died here? If Voldemort managed to kill him, would the Dark Lord be unstoppable?
The questions were too horrible for him to think about for long, and he pushed the dark thoughts to the side. He’d be strong and he’d get through this.
He kept his head full of memories of his training sessions until he fell asleep.
~
Harry didn’t sleep well and he woke up feeling very tired, but unable to go back to sleep. He didn’t feel like reading, but there wasn’t much else for him to do. He considered training, but he wanted to be in top form for his later competition with Snape.
Snape strode in and stepped through the bars.
“Aren’t you going to attack me to- AH!” Harry narrowly missed a spell that seemed to come out of nowhere.
“I won’t attack you when you expect it,” said Snape with amusement in his voice as he tapped the table twice with his wand.
Harry took his place. “Ooooh, I love crepes.” He picked up the bowl of strawberries and syrup to add some to his plate. The smell of strawberries made him remember the lubrication Snape used, and he put it down quickly.
“Something wrong?” Snape asked over his tea.
“Uh, I just don’t feel like strawberries today.” Harry pushed it over to Snape’s side of the table and decorated his crepes with the remaining ingredients.
“Probably for the best. You always make a mess when you eat them.” Snape cleared away the dish.
“I’d like to see you try to eat crepes with a spoon. Can’t I have a knife or fork sometime?” He spread the whipped cream out with his fingers.
“No, you could harm yourself or a Death Eater with one,” Snape pointed out. “Why don’t you use your spoon to do that?”
“I always get my hands dirty anyway,” Harry explained as he rolled up a crepe and ate it. He loved stuffing them so full that most of the ingredients fell out and he had to use the last crepe to scoop up what remained on his plate. Even without the strawberries, they were very good and he was licking and sucking his fingers clean when Snape irritably said, “Stop that!”
“Hmm?” He asked, glancing up at the Death Eater, his index finger still in his mouth.
“Go wash your hands in the sink,” Snape ordered in an irritated voice. “And next time, use a spoon.”
“If my eating offends you so much, then don’t look at me,” Harry glared at Snape but did as was requested of him.
“I wasn’t. You were making so much noise it was impossible to ignore you,” Snape complained, glaring at Harry.
Geeze, what was his problem? Harry stripped and went through his morning routine. It wasn’t like Harry had asked the Death Eater to join him for breakfast in the morning. Snape was impossible to figure out. He got angry over mild things, yet let some of Harry’s biggest challenges to his authority slide right off his back. Not to mention he could torture Harry one minute and touch him with gentleness the next.
He finished brushing his teeth and followed Snape upstairs.
“You will train without furniture today,” Snape informed him as they stepped into an empty room.
Harry nodded and moved to the centre. “Better stock your kitchen.”
“So sure that you will win, Potter?” Snape set up the balls and then tossed Harry the laser pointer.
“Yes, I will.” Harry efficiently dodged the first round.
Even though it had been a while since Harry had attempted to best Snape at this exercise, he effortlessly took out the fake Death Eaters as if he had been practicing it every day. Harry thought it was incredibly unfair that Snape got to wear robes that confused Harry, while Harry’s body was entirely on display for the Death Eater to target with precision.
Despite Harry’s disadvantages, neither had been hit by the time Snape stopped the exercise.
“That’s enough for today.”
“That’s it?” Harry fell to the floor and panted.
“You must be in your cell when the Dark Lord returns,” Snape explained.
“Oh,” Harry got to his feet. “Who is it tonight?” He didn’t know why he always wanted to know, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“Either Avery or Bellatrix,” said Snape tightly as he led Harry back to his cell.
Bellatrix he could deal with, but he wasn’t sure what Avery would do.
“Can you do anything to make sure Bellatrix ‘wins’ this time?” Harry pleaded. “I won’t be able to train properly if Avery hurts me a lot.”
“You don’t know for what you are asking,” said Snape harshly.
Harry thought he did, but he knew it was pointless to argue with the Death Eater. He sat down in his chair and watched Snape summon a large lunch for him. He knew he wouldn’t be fed that night so he organised the food into things he could eat now and things he could put aside for later. He heard Snape walk off as he pushed the rolls into the ‘save for later’ pile.
Snape wouldn’t let Avery rape him, would he? Harry remembered how the Death Eater had said Avery had some sort of disease that he’d give to Harry if he had sex with him. Harry had never wanted Snape to enjoy sex with him, but now he did. If Snape hated the sex then he wouldn’t mind if Harry were given to Avery. If Snape enjoyed the sex and wanted more of it, then he would do everything in his power to prevent Avery from touching Harry just to keep Harry clean for himself.
Harry couldn’t eat any more of his meal. He slid into the bed and held the pillow tightly against his aching chest. Should he have tried to be better in bed to encourage Snape? He needed Ron for strategy. He was terrible at it. He hadn’t seen this coming at all even though he should have. Avery would have won Voldemort’s favour back eventually, and then he would take out his anger on Harry. Even if Snape stopped Avery from raping Harry, Avery would still be angry at being denied the chance to do so. He’d torture Harry worse than any Death Eater yet.
Harry’s meal was still untouched when Snape finally stepped into the hallway. Harry forced himself to move across the room to the bars.
Snape grabbed Harry’s upper arm and pulled him through the bars after spelling the chain. “I did this for you so you will train to the best of your ability in the days to come. Don’t forget that,” he hissed as he led Harry upstairs.
Relief flooded through Harry. Snape had made sure Bellatrix would be the one to torture him tonight! Harry forced himself to keep his grin off his face. Being tortured by Bellatrix was nothing to smile about. Still, he couldn’t help but be happy that he was being delivered to her instead of Avery.
When he stepped into the throne room, he couldn’t have been more delighted to be given to Bellatrix for the evening. Even with his terrible vision he could tell that Avery was in a thunderous rage. Bellatrix, the cat who got the cream, perched proudly on the edge of the dais, watching Harry with a hungry expression running through her entire body.
Snape pushed Harry to the floor and walked over to stand on the dais on the other side of Voldemort.
“Crucio!”
Harry appreciated Bellatrix’s predictability. He had survived her Cruciatus before, and he could survive it again. She loved casting it on him, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body shaking as though she were orgasming after a particularly long session. He dutifully shook and twisted, screaming his head off as was expected. He wasn’t entirely pretending. It hurt like hell, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day without Snape’s help, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had at the beginning.
“That will be enough, Bella,” Voldemort finally said in an affectionate tone.
Harry lay on the floor and tried to regulate his breathing so that he wouldn’t cause more pain to his hurting chest. Snape grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet. He managed to swallow the bile that rose up in his throat and stumble after the Death Eater as he was roughly dragged back to his cell. Snape fed him a pain reliever and left.
Harry waited for the pain killer to kick in. As much as he hurt, he knew it could’ve been much, much worse. He was so grateful to Snape for his help. He wished he knew of someway to make it up to the Death Eater. The huge knot in his stomach had disappeared, and he let himself sleep.
~
Harry woke when Snape picked him up with magic. “Mmm… thanks.”
“Rest now,” Snape instructed as he floated Harry into the bathroom. Harry closed his eyes and heard the taps run. It was a very relaxing sound, and he was almost drifting off again when Snape lowered him into the water. He felt invisible bands bind him against the tub so that his head wouldn’t slip under the water.
Snape moved around the bathroom and Harry opened his eyes when he felt the Death Eater pick up his hand. Snape began to rub the potion he had created into Harry’s arms with practiced strokes. His forearms were exposed and his Dark Mark moved rhythmically. Harry watched it with interest, wondering what it felt like when it burned. Would Voldemort put it on him eventually?
“Will he… give me one…too?”
“What are you asking?” Snape moved closer to lift Harry’s other arm, his scent filling the air, mixing with the smell of the potion.
“Volde…mort…the Dark…Mark…”
“No, he has no need to give you one.” Snape’s hands moved down over Harry’s chest.
“He won’t… try… to make me… like him?” Harry noticed Snape’s hair was tied back in a low ponytail.
“He won’t accept a co-ruler, and he wouldn’t trust you as a Death Eater,” Snape explained as his hands worked their way south, passing quickly over Harry’s genitalia.
“I’m glad….I’d die… first.”
“I know,” Snape began to work on Harry’s legs. “And he knows.”
Harry allowed himself to drift off; satisfied that Snape would take care of him and heal him until he was ready to train again.
[[Thanks for your reviews! Please give me more!]]
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