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
- 2
- 3
- 4
CH 3 AN: If you skipped chapter two, here's a summary: Remus tells Dumbledore he has no idea who turned Harry, as no-one is claiming credit for it, not even any of Voldemort's followers.
Three weeks later, Harry has his first change. He and Remus go to the Shrieking Shack and turn. They fight and Harry loses. Remus then rapes Harry and forces the younger wolf to lick his penis clean. Once done, Remus rapes Harry again.
In the morning, Harry confronts Remus about what happened. Remus is unrepentant and explains he dominated Harry, as is not unusual with werewolves. Remus leaves and Harry stays at the Shack, in shock.
Severus comes looking for Harry and tries to help him. The boy refuses to go to the Infirmary and instead Snape casts a spell to heal Harry's outside. He also attempts to heal Harry's torn up innards.
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And now, on to this chapter. Which is also unpleasant as Severus pulls the memory from Harry. SP
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Chapter 3 – Looking at my own reflection
“Did you want to remember?”
Harry was kneeling on a cushion, sitting completely impossible for him, and heard the softly spoken words. Wearing loose trousers and a top that didn't rub the gashes on his body too much, he had settled and had been staring blankly into the fire for over an hour. His eyes had been green for most of the day as he had trembled with the shock and pain of what had been done to him, now they turned amber as rage filled him. The wolf inside him hated that another person might see his submission.
“You'd see it too, wouldn't you?” he asked, almost snarling.
Snape gave him a steady look, and gradually the wolf calmed, leaving emerald green eyes behind that sparkled with unshed tears. “I have no desire to see Lupin force himself upon you. But I think, for your own sanity, that you need to know, once and for all, what he inflicted upon you.”
Harry nodded, mouth a bitter tight line.
The older wizard dropped to his knees facing Harry and looked deeply into the familiar eyes. He slid into the mind and gently began searching for the wolf's memories. He saw the moment when Lupin changed, and felt Harry's fear about what was about to happen to him, and then nothing until Harry awoke with his rapist pressed against his back.
“I – I need greater contact,” Severus admitted, unhappily. “The wolf has buried his secret so deeply that I can't get to it without hurting you if I try like this. But there is another way.”
Unsure of whether he wanted to allow the search – after all, if the wolf wanted it hidden, there had to be a reason – Harry finally nodded.
Snape leaned in, whispering, “Keep your eyes open as I kiss you. The more I can touch you and see you, the easier I can find the memory.”
Mouth opening to ask what the hell Snape meant by 'kiss' him, the older wizard's lips touched his, and a tongue slicked across his mouth and into his body. Harry moaned and closed his eyes, wanting the sensation, wanting some affection and physicality that didn't involve pain and humiliation. His nose filled with the wonderful smell of Severus and he felt the confusion leaving him. Hands stroked over his face, sliding into his hair, but then the touch ended.
“Keep your eyes open,” Snape reminded him before trying again.
This time, with his gaze fixed on those dark eyes, and his head almost spinning with what he could scent, he felt the wizard sliding into his mind and easily pushing past the wolf's barriers. The animal made no demure and let the older wizard in. He even seemed almost co-operative, mentally retreating so that the memory came to the forefront of Harry's mind. Snape shifted, grabbed his wand, and held it against Harry's temple, twining an ugly brown thread around it. He kept twirling his wand to wind more and more of the loathsome thread around the wood even as he deepened the kiss, feeling the desperation and need of the youngster. With the last of the memory pulled free, he broke his connection to Harry and looked with distaste at the unpleasant thing looped around his wand.
“You know your eyes aren't black,” Harry breathed, lips red, “they're black and grey and have tiny flecks of purple in them. They're beautiful.”
“I never knew,” Snape said, responding to the claim about the colour of his eyes, rather than Harry's opinion of them. “Did you want to watch this now? I can always save it until you feel stronger?”
Shaking his head, Harry's eyes, which had been warm, turned cold and dangerous. “No, it needs to be now. Or I'll never find the courage to do it.” He paused, nostrils sniffing; the wolf was slowly coming back, but at the moment it was still a frightened boy in control, “You'll … you'll watch with me, won't you?”
Nodding, Snape stood up and fetched his pensieve from a cupboard. He let the memory fall from his wand and fill the bowl with whirling brown smoke. Then he quietly assisted Harry to his feet and gently held him as they fell into the past.
Snape stared at the scene. The Shrieking Shack was so familiar to him, but seeing it through Harry's eyes, through the eyes of the wolf, made it seem so much more vibrant. Every colour was heightened, and he understood why Harry found light so painful. Even in the gloom of dusk, the dust shone as it danced in the purple and cerise air, and the floorboards revealed a multitude of colours beyond the pale brown he'd always seen. He longed to stay here, seeing the world as Harry did, and enjoy it, but knew he couldn't. Not when Remus began writhing. And that, hearing as Harry heard, was all the more painful – every stretch of skin, every crack and snap of bones shifting, every slight movement against the wooden floor. All of it was pumped straight into his brain.
Seeing the change, Harry had sobbed as he imagined the pain of the transformation. Then they had watched the fight with dread, both knowing how it had to have ended, and then, Harry gave a cry of horror as he saw himself being dominated by the older wolf and forced to clean off the evidence of the usage of his body. After seeing Lupin ram inside his bleeding passage three times, he had turned his face into Snape's chest and sobbed, unable to watch any more. Face grim, Severus held Harry and forced himself to keep watching. He had to know if he was going to help the youngster. The sheer intensity of the colours made what he was seeing worse – there was no disguising the act in shadows, not when Severus could see the shifting of fur, rippling like waves with each cruel thrust into the unwilling body. Harry's almost silver fur was blindingly bright even in the dim shafts of moonlight, then it was dark, Lupin's body casting a shadow that seemed almost denser than the night itself. Remus' grey and brown body hid most of the boy's from view as he pumped violently between the silver grey legs. It wasn't all greys and blacks, there was a disturbing ruby red as Harry's blood smeared on Lupin's almost purple shaft, and the thick crimson fluid oozed out and spattered the grey fur, turning it rusty brown. And still there was more. The penis tugged out and shoved close to Harry's very white teeth. Then a long pink tongue lapped at the red and purple penis submissively.
Even with his eyes closed, Severus knew Harry was hearing the dreadful noises of his violation – the awful noise he made as Lupin forced his way back inside, the slap of flesh, the squelch of blood being driven into by the dick, even the spurting of semen into the body. All of it was there to be heard. Worse, for Severus, was the faint clawing he heard as Harry's abused body was shoved across the floor, as he didn't fight the domination.
At last the noises stopped and Harry sniffled, asking quietly, “How many times?”
Snape knew. He had counted; hating that part of himself that could remain a cool observer to this most brutal of acts. “Nine times. He's … fallen asleep now, but he's still inside you.”
Harry moaned, hands clutching helplessly at Snape. “How can he still be … there if he's asleep?”
“You saw it when he changed, Harry. You saw the hardness. He, and you, have a bone in your penis when you are a werewolf. I imagine when he became human again, it slid out of you.”
“Please,” Harry whispered, “please can we go now?”
Holding tight to the understandably distressed boy, Snape wished them free of the terrible memory. He stared at the pensieve, feeling it had been tainted by that awful vision, but afraid too. They knew so little about werewolves, but they did sometimes live as packs, with one dominant male. No human had ever known what made the dominant male be dominant. Snape sadly had an idea that now he did. “Did he … did he say anything this morning? Anything about … this? About what he'd done?”
Harry struggled with the memories. “He said I'm part of his pack, because he's dominated me. And I have to submit to him now. And something about how it'll make it easier next month. But …” his voice became a wail, “I don't want it! I don't want him to be anywhere near me! He can't dominate me, can he? I'm not his?!” He screamed in fear and fury at being possessed by his rapist. “And what does it even mean? Do I have to do what he says? Or is it just enough that he gets to fuck me once a month?!”
“I don't know,” Snape's voice was weary. “Perhaps what happened in that room has made you his. But what that means for your day to day life, I truly don't know.” He stopped, mulling things over, “He knows, he must have known. But I'm not suggesting either of us tries asking him.” He paused, as an unpleasant idea came to mind. “Harry,” his voice was intense now, “have you ever had the impression that Lupin was interested in you – sexually I mean?”
“You mean before he raped me nine times?” his voice was cold and angry. “I – I haven't seen much of him since Sirius' death, so I don't know. Maybe there's been a weird thing sometimes when he's looked at me. Like, like he was hungry and I was a juicy steak.”
Snape had been afraid of that, and it made the suspicion churning in his head solidify into certainty. But he couldn't say anything to Harry, not yet. They had to have evidence.
Forcing some distance, Snape stood and dug out a jar to contain the hateful memory. He wrote a label that merely had the previous day's date on it. After all, neither he nor Harry would need anything else to tell them what the bottle contained. The cork was sealed and then he cast a series of complicated spells over the container before pushing it onto a dusty shelf.
“Only you or I can pick up that bottle. I can only pick it up to hand it you. You, when you touch it, can choose to pass it to whomever you wish. But, you decide who learns of this, Harry. Only you.”
“No-one,” Harry breathed, “no-one ever finds out.
“Not even Granger or the Weasley boy?” Snape asked, busying himself with nothing much other than casting complex spells to protect the bottles and the cupboard itself from damage; he was giving Harry some space to just be.
“No-one. Just you. I – I can't be around them. They're just too loud and too bright.”
Having had a glimpse into how Harry experienced the world now, Snape agreed. Hermione had become so shrill around Harry since his turning, her tears and muttered exclamations of horror at his condition wearing on everyone's nerves. And Ron had been just as bad, with his perpetually optimistic words that he clearly didn't believe.
For a long moment Severus stayed still. He was thinking of his duty as a teacher to ensure Harry's protection and get him the help he so clearly needed, but more, he was thinking of the way Dumbledore trusted him to do what was best for the boy, even if, as Albus had phrased it, 'it went beyond school rules'. He swallowed before making his decision. “Very well. Just you and I. But you can't stay down here forever. And we need to consider what will happen at the next full moon.”
“C – Can't I just take the potion and stay hidden here?” Harry begged, eyes wide with terror that he'd have to go back to the Shack and let Lupin hurt him again.
“I told you that it takes a few changes before the wolf settles inside you. If we use the wolfsbane potion, you'll never subdue the wolf. You'll be like you are now – always ready to snarl and growl and claw. Not you. Not human.”
“I'm not, though, am I? Not any more. I'm a beast. And worse, he's seen to it that I'm a submissive bitch.”
***
Severus glared at Albus as the older man sat in his usual chair in his office. “Why were you in that forest?!”
“You know why,” Dumbledore's voice was weary, “I was looking for a Horcrux.”
“I didn't mean that,” Snape snapped, pacing fretfully, “I mean what information led you there? Why did you believe there was a … one of those things, in the wood?”
“Ah, I understand.” Tapping the fingers of his good hand on the desk, the headmaster seemed to be considering. “Remember, Severus, I have to take great precautions to protect you, Harry, and everyone in the Order. That means keeping lines of communication open but separate.
“A rumour came to me about a month ago that one of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes was Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem. And the rumour further stated it was at Hogwarts. I didn't believe any such thing, naturally, until I was able to speak with the Ravenclaw ghost. She confirmed that it was possible that the lost diadem was not in fact, lost, just misplaced. She further told me that it was entirely credible that Lord Voldemort had found it.”
Seeing the look of impatience on the DADA teacher's face, his friend went on, “I wasn't willing to rush, as any mistake might have alerted Lord Voldemort to what I was doing. I had to proceed carefully. There were Order members asking the right kinds of questions in the right kinds of places, and finally Nymphadora Tonks was able to confirm, via some of her contacts with marginalised creatures, that the diadem was indeed in the forest.
“Sadly, we now know that that was a false trail intended to lead us into an ambush. That the Prophet has not yet learned of Harry's condition does somewhat puzzle me, as surely any loyal Death Eater would have reported success? I suspect, naturally, Fenrir Greyback, as he is known to work with Lord Voldemort. But had that been the case, no doubt all of your other compatriots would have been alerted to the boy's vulnerability and the danger he also presents.”
His pacing had stopped whilst Albus spoke, now though, Severus began moving again, phrases coming out of him in angry jerks, “He's terrified. So am I. How can I help him?”
“Be you, Severus. Just be you.”
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CH 3 AN: The chapter titles (from Disturbed's Down with the Sickness) are rather apt, no? Reviews are nice, and needn't take long to write. Please? SP
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