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Snape's Curse	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 24342 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Harry Potter fandom, JKR's characters or the books and movies of the series. This is purely fiction and I make NO money from writing this story.

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I love them! Here’s another installment of what happened in the aftermath of “Snape’s Curse”. Hope you enjoy :)

~~~~ Occlumency’s Curse (part 2)

“Albus!” Severus practically snarled after angrily turning down the obligatory offer of a lemon drop. Dumbledore looked mildly taken aback at the harsh tone, but was mostly un-ruffled; this acrimony was nothing new from his Potion Master. The one thing the Headmaster was sure of-- nothing could stir this amount of emotion and passion from the normally stoic man like Harry Potter could.

He had no doubt what subject this unscheduled meeting was to revolve around.

“What do you know of Potter’s home life?” Whatever Albus was expecting, it wasn’t that. More whinging about being assigned as Harry’s Occlumency teacher, petty insults and bitter complaints of the lad not picking up the obscure branch of magic quick enough for his liking, or bemoaning the lessons impinging on his free time, yes—but nothing that would be construed as concern. (At least not this early on.)

“Severus?” he questioned, a slight worry creeping into the wrinkles etched in his features. “What makes you ask such a thing?”

“Because what I’ve seen is disturbing, to say the least. And in respect to the boy’s privacy and the implied confidentiality of Occlumency and Legilimency instruction I won’t divulge anything. Yet. I just need to know how much you are aware of!” The dark haired man slapped an impatient palm on the threadbare armrest of the wingback he was seated in.

“Well,” the old man considered his words carefully. “Uh, I know that he doesn’t much like it there. As we both know, Petunia Evans was never the warmest of individuals, especially after I had to turn down her pleas to attend Hogwarts. But I made sure to secure protections so that Harry lived to fulfill his destiny.”

Severus felt something in his chest and stomach squirm at that but was able to hold his tongue; his innate sense of strategy bade him keep up the detached aloofness to allow the Headmaster a freer reign to tell more. He spared a stiff nod in Dumbledore’s direction. He hoped to non-verbally encourage his mentor into revealing more than just enigmatic, nebulous statements meant to reassure him or divert his attention elsewhere. He would not be dissuaded so easily.

Severus’ plan came to fruition a second later as Albus mused aloud, things he’d never divulged before. “In fact, since his first year he’s asked to stay at Hogwarts over the summer breaks,” Albus supplied with an entirely too whimsical air. “Who wouldn’t?” he added with that infernal twinkle and chuckled. “I know I would have preferred it as a youngster. And I seem to remember a certain other student who asked me as well?”

Severus sneered at his mentor’s conspiratorial wink—So he and Potter had both begged to stay at the castle rather than face spending time with their horrid families. Neglect and abuse at home was no ‘twinkling’ matter, damn it! Why was he making such light of this?!

“Arabella Figg seems to think he’s been fine,” Albus continued. “She’s been monitoring him since we first dropped him in Surrey. She has baby-sat him a few times and assures me he is a bright and active boy, inquisitive yet polite. Things I always tried to tell you Severus, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Severus was chagrined that his mentor could slay him with the quietest of murmured words; his initial refusal to accept Harry might be different than his father was paining him right now. He certainly hadn’t helped the situation any with his irrational treatment of the boy. Numbly heard Albus go on, “His aunt and uncle are well off and live in a nice, safe neighborhood. Arabella reports having regularly seen him in the yard and he’s gone to Muggle primary school.”

Then, something ignited within the complacency his guilt always wrapped him in and flared, bursting into flames. “But what of inside the household, Dumbledore?” Severus demanded through grinding teeth.

“WHAT OF THAT?!” Albus was surprised at the unexpected venom.

“So he wasn’t reared as the pampered prince like you thought, does that upset the delicate balance you’ve made for the definition of him in your head Severus?” The old man dismissed the supposed accusations condescendingly. “He’s survived well enough to make it to Hogwarts. Surely that is enough for you to go on?”

Severus seethed, not willing to admit he felt more sympathy and empathy towards the boy. He had never bothered to take an un-biased look Harry. He could never stomach listening to the staff’s assessment of the famous student, tending to scoff at it as misplaced parental feelings and hero worship—And he’d never gave one thought to what might be happening to the child after James and Lily died. He wasn’t supposed to care what happened before….

Albus looked deeply into his eyes. “He was raised under the most impenetrable blood wards that could possibly exist-- and has arisen stronger for it. I am well aware he was not coddled as a child, but is that not what we need of him? To be toughened to the point that he can withstand all that will be thrust upon him with each year that passes? You know as well as I the strength of character that is needed for what his future holds.”

Severus was speechless. The man he thought of as his savior knew?! Maybe not the exact extent, but that it had been an unpleasant experience and let it happen anyway? “Albus,” he hung his head, feeling guilty in his part of the child’s undue torment. “Why did you not tell me?”

“Would it have mattered?” Dumbledore uttered wisely. It was barely above a whisper, but it rang out like it was shouted, “You were so determined to see only James and cling to schoolyard rivalries. Perhaps now when you look into those eyes so like Lily’s you’ll get past the DNA and finally acknowledge the uniquely individual spirit that burns within.”

****

Harry faced his next Occlumency lesson, recalling the words of encouragement and support from his friends but finding them of no use or comfort whatsoever. They had no idea how terrible it was to have their memories rifled through and put on display. Not to mention having to re-live all the vivid emotions in front of the object of his desire.

Again, Harry found himself staring down the business end of Snape’s wand and unprepared for the cast of “Legillimens!” being spat in his face.

****

The determined Slytherin went in search of all those law-breaking episodes Potter always seemed to wriggle out of. There were rules. Wizards and witches of age were sentenced and sent to Azkaban for less! He always thought it was just special treatment of the Golden Boy, but now wondered if there was more to the story. Since Albus’ explanations were always so vague, he was happy the lad’s memories were so transparent:

Harry and his friends were frantically pleading with McGonagall about needing to talk to Dumbledore straight away-- some nonsense about how Snape was planning to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone for Voldemort. The Transfiguration teacher brushed them off and then they were playing a little flute in front of that fearsome three-headed dog that bit him on Halloween…. (Severus snorted at the fact the children immediately suspected him. He also noticed an abandoned and silent harp nearby and strongly had the impression that the musical tip to calming the beast may have come from the loose-lipped Game-Keeper they had befriended.)

There was some faint struggle from Harry’s mind, but to Severus it was no more than an irritating itch, and he forged ahead. Dumbledore never did explain Nicolas Flamel’s fate to his satisfaction:

The golden trio escaped devil’s snare by the remarkable wit of the little ‘Know-It-All’; a Quidditch inspired task of gaining a key to the next door won by Harry (of course); Ronald Weasley, of all people, expertly directed his mates across a game of wizard’s chess (who knew?); Hermione Granger foiled his logic/potions trap (OK, that stung—he knew so many pureblooded and learned wizards that would never get such a riddle, and yet the over-achieving Muggleborn chit solved it rather easily— at eleven years old!)

She bade Harry go on. The talented witch fed him the potion to get him through the black licking flames while the icy solution was still running through his veins….

Now, the little boy was facing down Quirrel before the Mirror of Erised over the sorcerer’s stone....Voldemort’s parasitic form manifesting from the back of his skull was trying to tempt Harry with his heart’s desire, but the boy endured the lure of avarice and greed…. He gained the stone through altruism and fended off evil by having the quintessential, most pureness of love sacrifice flowing through his veins and soul at the time, both from his mother and his own sense of selfless humanity.... And once more, The-Boy-Who-Lived vanquished the physical presence of the Dark Lord!

Again, Severus sensed the overpowering emotions and was drawn like a moth to a flame—he’d never felt such intensity in all his life! He could feel the pain slicing through his forehead where Harry’s scar was placed. He could feel his own dark mark sizzle. But there was unrestrained power and he could help but drown in it. He could have given the boy taste of being successful despite his hopelessly weak shields to give him a sense of accomplishment.

But he couldn’t. He had to go on:

Harry looked only slightly older, but when he and his sidekick stared at each other in horror from within the staff-room wardrobe at the mention of Ginny’s skeleton, he immediately understood that this was the Chamber of Secrets incident…. He heard his own voice speaking to the newly arrived Gilderoy, “Just the very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster. Your moment has come at last.”….

Again, the children sought out adult supervision and help. When they’d tracked down the inept Defense teacher, he was in his office packing and preparing to leave without even attempting to aid a student in their care!

(A-ha! Snape knew the fool had been evasive as he’d left the meeting, but he didn’t realize how much of a coward he was until he refused Harry and Weasley. Apparently, they made him go with them to find the entrance to the Chamber. Severus had to grudgingly admit the size and tenacity of those twelve year old Gryffindor balls. And try not to burst into laughter when the spello-taped stick of doom was stolen from the redhead and Lockhart’s “Obliviate!” backfired on himself—So THAT’S how the idiot addled his single brain cell! HA!)

He saw Harry run to the deathly-still body of the Weasley girl, lying within an eerie chamber adorned with snake statues and a carved stone face of Salazar. There was an almost corporeal form of a handsome young man that Harry was calling ‘Tom’. There was something familiar about how he was pedantically making a speech of sorts and then it dawned on him—School-age Tom Marvolo Riddle!....

There was a Parseltongue command and the biggest, most fright-inducing serpent slithered towards Harry. The little boy was completely dwarfed by its bulky magnitude. While Severus would have probably shit his pants and been killed instantly from being frozen in fear, Harry did not panic and sprang into valiant action. He fought bravely. He’d gotten a hold of a sword and eventually succeeded in impaling it through the beast’s reptilian brain as its jaws made to devour him whole. But not before his raised arm was pierced with a venomous fang…. Harry pulled out that deadly tooth and stabbed what looked to be a little book lying beside Ginevra…. It gave a hideous scream and the vision of Tom Riddle was destroyed….

Snape pulled out roughly, breathing as if he himself had just battled a Basilisk—that last unearthly sound was still ringing in his ears (and seemed to describe the depictions he’d read of destroying Horcruxes in his Dark Arts books!). As his swimming vision cleared, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Potter panting on his office floor. Harry was holding a hand protectively over his arm where he’d been sliced open years before.

“Potter,” Severus started, as soon as he could speak without a quaver in his voice, “pray tell, how did you survive the taint of Basilisk poison?” He really hoped he’d kept the tone of awe to a minimum.

“Fawkes helped me,” he wheezed, “Phoenix tears….”

“It seems you have allies in every corner,” Snape remarked dryly (not jealously, NO!). Harry just shot him a baleful glare, sweat fogging his glasses.

“Potter, you--” he began, but quickly censored his original idea to extend sympathy, or worse, admiration. Clearing his throat he finished lamely, “—look like you need a drink of water.” He conjured a cup on the flagstones next to the beleaguered boy. Harry accepted it gratefully, gulping loudly. The impolite slurps elicited a wince from the Potion Master, but Severus excused it in light of the current circumstances and let it go without snarky comment.

Severus took a few moments to collect himself; really, watching the tiny boy battle the Dark Lord twice and kill a huge deadly monster (and emerge victorious) had him quite rattled. He wasn’t sure he was up for more. It was shaking the very core of his long-held beliefs. He tried for levity, but since it wasn’t his strong suit, it undoubtedly fell short. “Well, after that last run in with magical murderers, no wonder you found defying a mother dragon defending her eggs an easy task at the Triwizard Tournament.”

Harry startled and looked up suddenly. Was that a compliment or something other than an insult coming from Snape?! That seemed to unnerve him more than re-living the adrenaline rushes of his first two near death experiences at Hogwarts. He was perplexed to see the icy façade he was so used to was showing signs of a bit of thaw. It was nice, but it was also scary. It was there in his secret fantasies, but to witness it in his real, waking life, it was intimidating.

“Potter,” Snape had thankfully reverted back to his usual stern demeanor, to the comfort of them both, “you have been unable so far to block me, perhaps—“

Enraged, Harry cut him off, “Don’t you DARE, Professor! Just because I haven’t done it yet, doesn’t mean I’m too weak to master it! I’m not a child anymore, I can take it! Try me again! I can take whatever you give me! Just do it again!”

Snape blinked. He was about to suggest they stop for the night, figuring he’d put them through enough already for one night, but with the offer there, he could hardly refuse (and the unintentional innuendo made it all the more delicious).

There were some things he’d always been curious about, like why the boy cast a Patronus in Little Whinging the summer before, or how the graveyard confrontation that was meant to be an execution had played out (none of the Death Eaters in attendance would speak of it, and of course the Dark Lord would never recount another failure from a run-in with the prophesized child). And the confusing events surrounding the escape of Black that had occurred-- he just had to know.

“Very well, I will do as you wish. Try to push back against my intrusion.” (Severus inwardly grimaced at how lecherous he sounded.) “Legilmens!”:

Harry was being taunted again by that fat cousin of his, but they were older now. Suddenly, the unmistakable presence of dementors chilled the air. Snape could see one prizing those chubby cheeks apart, almost lovingly, about to administer the kiss. He could hear his precious Lily’s screams, “No, not Harry!” As heart-sick as that both made them, Harry was able to produce a magnificently powerful Patronus to save them (even though he had no real reason to want to save that miserable, bullying kid)….

He felt the fear surrounding the full criminal trial held with the Wizengamot. Most thought he was making up a tall tale, eager for more attention, (with Severus previously included in that number), but now he knew the truth….

Snape was nauseated at the terrifying tableau that floated into his vision next:

Harry was bound, bleeding from a blood sacrifice and watching Voldemort rise in all his physical glory from a steaming cauldron. That sniveling Marauder, Wormtail, was assisting and gazing with creeping glee at James and Lily’s son facing up to the Dark Lord. Severus’ estimation of Junior rose as he withstood the ‘Cruciatus’ and dueled courageously.

The sick snake-faced man silkily spewed, “Bow to death. It might even be painless. I would not know. I have never died.”

And the magic exploded; lights, and connections, and protections, and soulful feelings that ran core deep. Something odd and fortuitous happened again—some VERY odd crossing of the wands, wielding AND welding some sort of cosmic connection-- and the plucky Gryffindor was able to escape….

(Making sure to bring the dead Hufflepuff’s body back despite it slowing his reaction time made Severus all the more ashamed to think that this boy had simply been arrogant and fame-seeking). Just as he was going to quit for the night, he couldn’t help but dig in a bit deeper; he just had to know what happened with his capture of the fugitive Black—and subsequent escape while unconscious that cost him an order of Merlin:

It was hazy and haphazard, things happening twice or in tandem, he couldn’t really tell—it was all so jumbled and over-lapped that he was sure Potter was learning to block (or at least to confuse or evade)….

There appeared to be a hundred dementors descending aside the two prone bodies at the edge of the Black Lake, then a Patronus and then some memories of attacking Snape in the Shrieking Shack. (Yes, he remembered that—it was quite embarrassing that a thirteen year old wizard could disarm him so completely. Underestimation-- It’s a terrible thing to have.):

There were some vague but compelling revelations of Black’s innocence regarding the Potter’s secret keeper switch and Pettigrew’s confession of the ultimate treachery; a blurb about Lupin discovering a long-held secret involving the unregistered Animagi; a bubble of Dumbledore imparting some sage advice and permission to the young trio; the clever girl leading Harry out of the infirmary on a mission, determined and crackling with magic…. The daylight went from golden to fading, to dark, to purple twilight again and the shadows danced in a disorganized manner, from dim to vivid. It was confusing. But when the full moon broke over the horizon--

There was a palpable fear over-riding everything else that was somehow outside the events unfolding. There was a wisp of a thought involving an illegal time-turner, protection of a friend, attacking a teacher, a stolen Hippogriff marked for death— although somehow for a good cause—and a guilty conscious of laws that had been broken. Letting the man who betrayed his family get away, scuttling into the forest--

And then the terror of Snape, the person who hated him the most in the whole world, finding out about the ‘aiding and abetting’, Harry was able to, for the first time on his own volition, push out of his mind….

****

“So,” Severus pondered aloud once he’d regained his composure, tapping his wand in his open palm, “it appears as if you are most motivated by extreme fear of my finding out your secrets, Mr. Potter. Then, and only then, are you able to summon the necessary shields.”

His dark, obsidian eyes traveled his body. “Interesting….” Harry didn’t think that was ‘interesting’-- he found it downright ominous. “Your mind is feeble; you should be able to block from me by now regardless of your mental state. Are you even trying at all?”

Harry glared up at the looming Potion Master from where he’d fallen on the floor.

“You are too easy a target for the Dark Lord,” Snape continued with a sneer while pacing dizzying circles around his student’s prostrated form, regaining his faltering confidence by the second; despite what he’d just witnessed, he had to remind himself that this was still just a child, he was not a formidable opponent--especially not one that was slumped on the floor in heap by his feet. “He could use your ridiculous openness for any number of nefarious purposes.”

“You bark orders at me to not let you gain control, Professor, yet you’ve never explained how!” Harry blurted out, his emotions getting the better of him.

Snape fixed him with a stern stare and dismissed that last disrespectfully phrased statement. “You are not practicing clearing your mind, are you? No, of course not. Why do I bother to ask?” he posed the rhetorical question to no one in particular. “It is obvious you aren’t. Your chaotic little brain must be calmed before you sleep or the Dark Lord will proceed to infiltrate your dreams and thoughts and possibly influence your behavior.”

“Exactly how do I do that, Sir?” Harry asked through gritted teeth. He’d been trying. He really had. But there was always so much on his mind and while lying in bed at night-- the quiet darkness only served to amplify all his anxieties and worries.

“Potter,” Snape began wearily, “you are fifteen years old….”

“That still doesn’t mean I know how to make my mind blank! You tell me to do things but don’t tell me how! Sir.”

“You are a teenage boy…. Certainly there is something you can figure out to do….” Severus willed the slow boy to infer his meaning.

Harry simply stared back, quizzical and clueless, wondering what his professor was hinting at. Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and shuddered at having to spell it out.

“Is there nothing that relaxes you?” Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Perhaps some type of activity involving those hands of yours? They might be hopeless at brewing potions, but surely they must be adept at more than just catching a snitch….”

“Oh God!” Harry garbled and practically gagged when he finally caught on; his stomach lurched at the man of his dream’s suggestion—the mention of masturbation slipping from those sexy lips in the velvet drawl that made his hormones quiver threatened to make his knees give way. Mortified, Harry bolted from the office despite not being formally dismissed from the lesson, (and successfully hid the fact that he’d sprouted a raging hard-on).

It was just as well, Severus couldn’t fault him for hastily leaving like that; he was just as embarrassed as his student and was grateful his flight saved them both from any more of a humiliating exchange. Again, he summoned his Scotch and Pensieve to pour over the new evidence he’d gathered that night.

He was glad he was left alone to ponder the results and the privacy to take care of the surging erection that had been plaguing him since he’d felt all that raw potential and power radiating from the Boy Wonder.

~~~~

Ok, up next: We FINALLY get to start some of the sexy fun stuff! Yay smut!
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Snape's Curse