Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Ashes of Armageddon	By : emilywaters Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 96542 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Appreciation

Harry pushed his plate aside, stood up, and walked towards Severus quickly, closing the distance between them. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Harry shoved him to sit back in the chair.

�If you wanted to eat off the floor, you should have just said so,� Harry said, still smiling.

�It seems I have lost my appetite,� Severus said snidely. �I wonder: is it the food, or the company?�

Harry's grip on Severus' shoulders only hardened. �People like you,� Harry said slowly, �never appreciate anything they are given. Don't think that I'll be wasting my time, trying to convince you to eat.�

Severus was slightly stunned by this statement � but then he sensed an undercurrent of something else there. Something that pushed Harry's buttons beyond what he had expected. Remembering the brief glimpses of Harry's mind from their Occlumency lessons, including his childhood memories, Severus knew exactly what those buttons were.

�No need to fuss over me, Mr. Potter,� Severus said, voice dripping with sarcasm. �A few missed meals here and there never did anyone any harm. You of all people should know that.�

He fully expected Harry to strike him, or do something worse, and he instantly forced himself to relax his entire body � to minimize whatever damage that might come his way. But Harry shook his head, and released his grip on Severus' shoulders.

�In time,� Harry said, as if answering an unspoken question. �But when I do hurt you, it will be my way, and for my reasons, not yours. Right now, I want you to leave.�

Severus did not need to be told twice. He got up and left without saying a single word.

Once he reached his new bedroom, Severus surveyed his surroundings thoughtfully, finally allowing himself to note the details. The bed frame was unfinished wood, simple and elegant, slender vertical bars connecting with the solid horizontal bar on the top. He noticed faint scratches on the vertical bars, and wondered where they came from. The bedding had a distinctive feminine touch - the bedspread was a pale, but pleasant green color, with a fine, elaborate floral design. Large cushions were stacked against the headboard. A few tasteful pictures hung on the wall � painted landscapes of a pond, and a grove � the scenery looked vaguely familiar. It was almost as if the room had belonged to someone else at one point, Severus thought idly.

He examined his walk-in closet. It barely had anything in it � only a few changes of clothing that were his exact size.

The bookshelf and the desk in his new bedroom were also conspicuously bare � he saw a few old volumes on Herbology, a few blank parchment scrolls, an inkwell and a quill � and absolutely nothing else.

Drained by the events of the day, Severus collapsed on the bed face down, without undressing, and passed out almost instantly.

When he woke up next morning, the sun was pouring through the window, and he realized that he had slept through the night, in a very satisfying and restful way. Driven by hunger, Severus finally emerged from the bedroom. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Severus wandered into the kitchen. He tried the food cabinets, and the refrigerator � but they were all spelled locked. Severus rose an eyebrow, only slightly surprised. His only options for nutrition, it seemed, were the garbage can, and yesterday's dinner, still scattered on the floor of the dining room � not unlike what Harry himself had experienced, growing up. How oddly... fitting, Severus thought, shook his head disdainfully and walked back to his bedroom.

He spent a few hours reading an old Herbology volume. By the time he caught himself contemplating the nutritional value of Gillyweed, Severus decided that enough was enough, and resolved to eat, after all. He returned into the dining room, and collected a few handfuls of rice and vegetables from the floor, careful to separate them from the broken glass. He left the meat alone � hunger or not, he had enough common sense not to touch the pieces of chicken that had been sitting out for the entire night, and part of the day. He rinsed the rice and vegetables out under the water in the sink, and ate, forcing himself to consume the food slowly, without rushing.

He was surprised to find himself satiated at the end of it. He found a cloth by the sink, cleaned up the rest of the mess on the floor, collecting even the broken pieces of the plate, and placing them in the trash can.

Done, he walked around the house once more, returned downstairs, and finally, entered the den � that was obviously set up to be Harry Potter's study. He surveyed it carefully, absolutely astounded by the number of volumes and scrolls on Dark Arts. Not �Defence Against� � the �real thing�. Severus felt a tremor go throughout his entire body at the sight of them.

On an impulse, Severus sat down at Harry's desk, and began searching, slowly and deliberately, going through every drawer. He knew he was playing with fire, but at that point, he had stopped caring about the consequences to himself. He wanted to find the casualty list � he needed to know who died, and who survived. To Severus' relief, Harry hadn't mentioned any of the Malfoys among the deceased � it must have meant that Draco was still alive. Severus could only hope... Draco's lack of character aside, the boy was still his godson... and someone that both Dumbledore and Severus had been hoping to rescue from the soul-shattering consequences of becoming a murderer.

�It's not here,� Severus suddenly heard a voice behind him. He spun around in the chair, coming face-to-face with Harry, who had walked in, and came to stand behind him, without Severus noticing. As if he had used a silencing spell of some sort, Severus thought absently. Another tremor of dread coursed through his body, but Severus willed it away.

Harry was watching him coldly.

�Get up, Severus,� Harry said with amusement. �Come with me.�

They exited the den, and Harry sat on one of the chairs, pointing to another, indicating for Severus to sit down across from him. Severus complied.

�I already told you, you will not be seeing the casualty list,� Harry said bluntly. �You went behind my back, trying to find it. That is not acceptable to me.�

�To be honest, I don't really care,� Severus said with absolute calm. He felt a vein beginning to throb at his right temple, and only the remnants of his Slytherin common sense prevented him from adding something else.

A long silence ensued. Severus sat, not moving, while Harry was watching him, deep in his own thoughts.

�Tell me, Severus... how is your pain tolerance?� Harry asked suddenly.

Severus felt a smirk form on his lips of its own accord. �You realize Mr. Potter, that is a profoundly stupid question.�

Harry did not appear to be amused. �Well, I will tell you what I think. I think it's not that much higher than average. You are a good duelist, and a good fighter � but things are different in a battle, than... in a place like this. When you get a surge of adrenaline, when all your defenses are mobilized � you could suffer a hyppogriff attack, or a dog's bite � or a lethal wound, and not even feel it. But... that said, slow, deliberate, intentional torment is a whole different scenario, isn't it? I imagine you are used to fighting, but not... torture. I doubt that, for all your infatuation with Dark Arts, you ever felt the full-fledged Cruciatus first-hand. Have you?�

Severus shrugged indifferently.

�Answer me,� Harry demanded.

�No,� Severus said simply. �I haven't.� It was a lie, but he was not at all eager to divulge the circumstances under which he had experienced his first, and longest Cruciatus. It had lasted seventeen minutes, he found out later, and those were, without a doubt, the longest seventeen minutes of his life.

Harry stood up abruptly, and went back into his den. Severus watched, as Harry returned, placing a piece of parchment, an inkwell, and a quill in front of him.

�I take it I will be writing some lines for you, Mr. Potter?� Severus asked wryly, folding his arms on his chest.

�Yes, you will be,� Harry said coolly.

�You seem quite confident of that,� Severus said, not moving.

�I am,� Harry confirmed very softly. �You will write lines for me. You will keep writing, until I am satisfied.�

Still, Severus had not moved.

Harry pointed his wand at him, and said: �Crucio.�

The agony spread rapidly throughout his body, Severus gasped, groaned and finally, let out a subdued cry, as the feeling of being burned alive from within settled into him. The pain continued to grow, until Severus slid to the floor, using the chair for support, and shuddered with every breath.

The curse was finally lifted, and Severus issued a subdued moan. His limbs felt weak and frail, and light- as if they were filled with cotton, rather than contained flesh and bones.

�Get up, sit on the chair, and write,� Harry commanded calmly.

�No,� Severus spat stubbornly, unsure how much longer his resolve would last.

The curse struck again, this time feeling even worse. He could swear that it was tearing his body apart, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. It went on forever, and ever, it seemed.

�Ten minutes,� Harry said suddenly, but he did not appear to have any intention of stopping the torture, as the agony did not recede.

Severus groaned, cried out a few times, and finally screamed out loud, unable to control his reactions. He felt a wave of nausea reach his throat, bile burning his mouth. It seemed that time itself had stopped, and the entire world had collapsed into a single massive knot of pain, with Severus at the very center of it.

�Fifteen minutes,� Harry announced.

Severus buried his face in his sleeve, and bit into his own arm, as his entire body shuddered, as if ready to come apart. He could have sworn that days went by, with him lying on the floor, his teeth sinking into his own flesh in a futile attempt to combat the torment inflicted on him.

Suddenly, the agony ended, as abruptly as it had began. Severus issued a long, rasped gasp. The taste of blood and bile in his mouth lingered, and he swallowed several times, desperate to be rid of it.

�This was only twenty minutes,� Harry said impassively, looking at him with a cold smile. �I assure you, I can sustain this all evening. You, however, cannot.�

Severus could not argue with that.

�Let's think about it logically, for a minute,� Harry offered. �Let's say we keep this going for another hour or two. What do you think will happen? Do you think I'll get bored and leave?�

Severus looked at the floor numbly, not saying anything.

�I'll tell you exactly what will happen,� Harry said indifferently. �I know some really good mind- guarding spells, so you will not go insane � don't even hope. You will, however, get nauseous and throw up. When the pain gets to be too much, you'll lose control of your bladder. Then you'll have to clean up the disgusting mess, and I will be in no mood to allow you any cleaning tools other than your own tongue. Then, you will write lines.�

A wave of sheer terror washed over him, but Severus pushed it away, forcing himself to remain absolutely still, absorbing Harry's cold, distant voice ringing above him.

�Now,� Harry said peacefully, �How about we skip the entire vomiting, pissing, and cleaning up drama, and just get to writing lines?�

Slowly, Severus lifted himself on his elbow, glancing at Harry with surprise. He had underestimated the golden boy, he thought. Both he and Dumbledore had. How they could have missed something like this, was beyond him.

Harry walked up to him and grabbed him under his arms, lifting him off the floor effortlessly, as if he were a rag doll. Severus allowed himself to be placed in the chair, without issuing a single sound.

�Will you write lines?� Harry asked, his hand resting on Severus' back.

�Yes,� Severus answered, and pulled the parchment towards himself. He held the quill in his hand � and then, a realization dawned... The bed frame, with faint marks on the wood... the pictures of the pond and groves, just like the scenery next to the Weasleys' Burrow... the empty bookshelf...

Severus turned to Harry and asked bluntly:

�Tell me just one thing, Mr. Potter. Why did Ginny Weasley need a separate bedroom? And why did she finally leave you? Did your bondage and pain games become too much for her? Or was she afraid of what you might do to your own child ten years from now, if he refused to write lines for you?�

Harry chuckled amicably and patted Severus on his back.

�Who knows how life would have unfolded, if we had done things differently. Perhaps if I had been nicer, Ginny would have stayed. Perhaps, if you had not taunted Sirius at 12 Grimmauld Place, he would not have rushed into action thoughtlessly. And perhaps, if you had deigned to continue Occlumency lessons, I wouldn't have walked into the obvious trap at the Department of Mysteries... then, perhaps, my godfather would still be alive. But we'll never know, will we?�

Severus had nothing to say to that, and all he could do was stare in absolute silence.

Harry's hand stroked Severus on the back soothingly.

�Write,� Harry demanded. �You may think it's degrading, and unbecoming; but that's exactly what you need. You are just a little self-centered man, who murders through acts of petty cowardice. And I say, the punishment should fit the crime.�

�Yes,� Severus said quietly. �I suppose it should. What would you have me write, Mr. Potter?�

Harry whispered the line in his ear.

Severus nodded, dipped the quill in the inkwell, leaned forward, and proceeded to write, covering the scroll in minuscule handwriting; repeating the single line, over and over again:

I killed them.

... TO BE CONTINUED...

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Ashes of Armageddon