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You Don't See Me	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm not making any money off of writing fanfiction for it, either. Obviously.

Chapter List
- 1-I
- 2-II
- 3-III
- 4-IV
- 5-V
- 6-VI
- 7-VII
- 8-VIII
- 9-IX
- 10-X
- 11-XI
- 12-XII
- 13-XIII
- 3
- 4
- 5
IV.
'I'm empty and aching and tumbling and breaking'

Severus laid his head back
against the pillows and let out a shaky breath. He'd really
over-exerted himself yesterday. Poppy was going to give him hell when
she found out he'd been up and about since seven in the morning and
didn't settle back to bed until after ten. He really should be
sitting down to relax every three or four hours. His body couldn't
take much more exertion than that, but each day he tried to push
himself a little harder and each day he regretted doing so. Then he'd
wake in the morning and, as if he'd forgotten what a bad idea it was,
started the process all over again.

This morning, his body felt
unusually heavy. It was already eight thirty, but his limbs felt like
lead. He just kept staring at the clock while telling himself 'I'm
going to get up now. Any minute now. Very soon. Well, maybe not just
yet. Okay, now...or maybe not.' He'd been at it for over an hour.
He felt groggy, his throat raw. Everything ached. It didn't dawn on
him right away that he had a cold. He was so used to aching
everywhere at this point that he didn't realize that it was a
different kind of aching. All he knew was that he had to get up
before someone came looking for him and found him lying here in a
pair of sweats staring accusingly at the canopy as if it were solely
to blame for the fact that he couldn't seem to make his body move.

It was an act of sheer willpower
when half an hour later he managed to throw himself from the bed,
catching himself on the nightstand before he could collapse. His legs
felt like jelly, but somehow he managed to make them shuffle along
towards the restroom. He relieved himself, brushed his teeth, washed
his face, and started to run a bath. Normally, he would take a quick
shower, but he didn't trust his legs to hold him upright that long. A
bath would feel rather nice.

It took him three tries to get
out of his pants, but eventually he managed it. Ah, the hot water
felt wonderful. He would have cast a temperature regulating spell on
it, but his hands were too shaky to hold a wand. He wasn't in the tub
five minutes before he fell asleep again.

'Hey, Severus, wake up! Geez,
you sleep like the dead.'

Severus rubbed his eyes and
blinked up at Lucius Malfoy, straddling his chest. 'I was up until an
hour ago doing your Tranfiguration homework,' Severus complained
blearily. 'Do you never sleep?'

It was their sixth year.
Today—no, it was yesterday now—was Lucius' birthday.
Severus had finally put his foot down and told Lucius it was for his
own good that he do his own homework for a change. 'You'll never pass
your NEWTS if you don't. I can't take them for you.' Grudgingly,
Lucius had accepted, and they always did their homework together in
the common room these days. Well, mostly it was Lucius demanding
Severus tell him what he was supposed to write and copying it word
for word—but Severus figured he would have to absorb some kind
of information by sheer osmosis. Since he couldn't afford a proper
present, Severus had told Lucius he would do his transfiguration
essay, just this once. Lucius was more than happy to hand over the
task.

But even bleary eyed and half
asleep Severus could see the tension in Lucius' trousers meant his
date with Narcissa had gone well again, but that he still
wasn't getting laid.

Lucius waved off the homework
subject. “You should have seen
the outfit Narcissa was wearing. The robes were really low cut in
the front, and she had her hair tied up off her neck. I think she'll
let me shag her soon.”

“That's
nice,” Severus answered blandly. He reached for his wand. He
knew why Lucius was cramming himself into bed beside him. He wanted
another blow job. He always
wanted
a blow job when his dates with Narcissa went well. It had been two
years since the first one, and Severus had become numb to the
arrangement. “Mufflatio,” he said, casting a silencing
spell around the bed. “Not that I don't care,” he said,
although he really couldn't care less, “but I'm tired. Can we
just get this over with?”

“Oh,
right. Sorry. Take off your pants.”

“What?”
What did his pants have to do with sucking Lucius' cock?

“Come
on,
Severus.
You're the one that's in a hurry, aren't you? You didn't see that
outfit she was wearing. When she bent over, I could just barely see
the edge of her nipple. Merlin! It was all I could do not to rip her
robes open and fuck those gorgeous breasts. She's such
a
tease! There's no way a blow job's going to be enough. Don't worry,
I've heard about this type of thing. I know a good spell, so it won't
hurt. Just hurry!
I'm going to explode if I don't fuck something soon. And you're so
skinny, with such slim hips, It'll probably feel just like fucking a
girl up the ass anyway. You're my friend, right? Can't you do me even
this little favor?”

Severus, as always, relented.
He never told Lucius no. Lucius was like the sun to Slytherin—the
most popular, the most influential, and he had allowed Severus to be
his friend for just small favors like homework help and the
occasional blow job. It seemed like a small price to pay. It wasn't
as if his looks or personality were winning him any friends
otherwise. And Lucius' other friends acknowledged him as their friend
too, by default.

He knew Lucius was full of
shit. This was going to hurt like hell, but Lucius never lasted very
long, so he could endure it. Even so, he had to fumble with the
drawstring on his pajamas twice before he managed to fight them free.

Lucius didn't wait for
Severus to get them all the way off. Once he'd struggled as far as
his knees, Lucius grabbed him and shoved him roughly face down into
the mattress. He'd grabbed his wand and rammed the tip roughly inside
without warning, muttering some spell that felt like someone just
shot a fist-sized ball of boiling water into his arse. It was
absolute agony. And then Lucius rammed his cock in. The blond moaned
loudly. It was all Severus could do to bury his face in the pillow
and keep from screaming out in pain. If he'd thought the ball of
boiling water was bad, it was only compounded by the rough jerking of
Lucius' hips.

In his sleep, Severus paled and
a choked sound escaped his lips. He tossed his head as if trying to
shake something off, but it wouldn't come loose. He let the loud
groan of pain out that he'd held in when he was letting Lucius
brutally take his virginity.

The bathroom door slammed open.
It was Harry. He turned his head away and blushed to find Snape naked
in the tub. He didn't quite imagine things would play out like this.
You see, Severus had a schedule. When Harry arrived in his office,
prepared for battle after last night's conversation, and Snape wasn't
there, he'd been a bit concerned, but figured Snape must be running a
bit late, or be on an errand. Maybe he'd gone to the infirmary to get
more medicine from Madam Pomfrey. But 9:00 came and went. He checked
the Great Hall, the Infirmary, the Library. At 9:45 he went down to
the dungeons were Snape was supposed to be teaching Advanced Potions.
No Snape. Now he was really worried. He'd assigned reading at random
and run back here at record speed imagining all sorts of horrific
scenarios. Maybe Snape had relapsed and the venom was going to kill
him if someone didn't find him soon. Or maybe he'd gotten woozy and
hit his head and was now bleeding all over the floor.

But none of his worst-case
scenarios involved finding Severus Snape wet and naked. 'Wet and
naked and unconscious, Harry! Don't be such a kid! He needs help!'
And hadn't he just been yelling about how he'd wanted to be of more
use to Snape last night? He grabbed towel and rushed towards the tub.
“Headmaster.”

Lucius spewed his release
into Severus' abused hole. It felt like vinegar being poured into an
open wound. Severus was amazed he managed to hold back the tears. He
didn't want Lucius to know how much he'd hurt him. He didn't think
Lucius would care much even if he did complain. He'd just call him a
baby.

Severus just hoped that
Narcissa opened her legs soon so he didn't have to keep doing this
sort of thing. Blow jobs were one thing, but he didn't think his
arsehole could take it if Lucius asked this of him again.

Lucius pulled out and tucked
himself away. He smirked down at the prone form of his friend, face
buried and ass in the air. “You know, Severus, from this angle,
you're not so bad looking. Clean yourself up before you go back to
sleep. You're bleeding.”

“Damn
it Snape! Wake up!” He was trying to pull Snape out of the tub,
but as surprisingly thin as the man was, he was still heavy,
especially when he wasn't helping. He'd only managed to turn his
torso and drape the sopping wet arms over his shoulders. Now he had
his arms around the man's back and was trying to hoist him upward.

Snape awoke with a start. He
pulled back from whatever was trying to suffocate him, and banged his
head against the wall. Something oppressively heavy splashed down in
front of him.

Harry pulled his head out of the
water and sputtered, glaring at the barely conscious Headmaster. He
couldn't stay mad though. The scar from Nagini's bite was still an
angry red mark on the side of his neck, and Snape really didn't look
as if he had any idea what was going on.

“Potter,
what are you doing in my bathtub?” he asked at last.

“Drowning,
apparently,” Harry retorted irritably.

It was all Severus could do to
keep calm with the fact that he was sitting here, very much
exposed—and feeling rather light-headed—while Harry
glowered at him. And then, something happened. He just somehow found
the entire situation irresistibly funny. Of course. Of course he was
naked and not at all well and Harry Potter was halfway in his bathtub
giving him the evil eye. Of course. Obviously. Everything else that
could happen to a man had already happened to him. He'd been ignored
by his parents, assaulted by the Marauders, enslaved by his best
friend, nearly killed by the Dark Lord's pet snake. Utter degradation
at the hands of Harry Potter was really the only thing left.

He laughed. It was sharp,
bitter, borderline hysterical. It wasn't the sort of laugh Harry
wanted to hear from him. He could only stare for a moment as if he
hadn't the faintest idea who Snape was or why he was here. Finally,
he snapped out of it. “Er, come on, Professor, you need to get
out of the tub. I think you ought to be in bed.”

Severus didn't fight much when
Harry pulled him to his feet this time, awkwardly wrapping a towel
around the older man's hips while trying not to look at his wet,
bared body. A few more hysterical little laughs escaped and for a
moment Harry thought that Snape might start crying. He sincerely
hoped not, because an insane Snape was one thing, but Snape in tears
was something he didn't think any amount of emotional preparation
could ready him for dealing with.

“Insolent
brat,” Snape muttered when he managed to calm himself. “Can't
help but butt in where you aren't needed, can you?”

“Professor,
I kinda think...” 'That
you need to admit when you need help for a change, you jerk. You can
barely stand on your own and you really think I'm going to believe
that you don't need me? Or if not me, then someone,'
Harry
thought at the older man. Not that Snape was really up for reading
his mind at the moment.

“Your
opinion is not required.” Snape pushed off him, swayed woozily,
and collapsed on the bed. The towel came undone as he collapsed, but
still managed to lay over Snape's arse, keeping him decent.

For a long moment, Harry
couldn't move. He was torn between irritated rage and outright lust.
All that pale skin splayed out, those slim hips and firm shoulders.
Snape wasn't the young boy he'd seen in the pensieve any more—not
by a long shot, but he still had that same intractable sort of
cuteness. “Heh.” He swallowed anything but the slightest
chuckle. “I'm the brat, am I?” He sighed and shrugged it
off.

“Come
on, Professor, lay down properly. You're only going to make things
worse for yourself,” he said, trying to roll the man over onto
his back. Snape rolled over like a dead body. He splayed out and
staring inattentively at the canopy, careless of his current state of
undress, with arms lying straight out to either side of his torso.

“Go
away,” Snape muttered without bothering to open his eyes.

Harry chided himself for ogling
the man's naked body. In the state Severus was in he didn't notice,
but that just made Harry feel even more guilty for taking advantage
of him. Snape was flushed and clammy. His breathing came heavily and
each breath caused his chest to rise and fall. Harry steeled himself
and tried to arrange him more normally on the bed—at least get
his legs up onto it fully. “Don't be such a pain in the arse,”
Harry griped. 'Well, if you're ramming that thick wand you're
packing up my arse, then I wouldn't mind a little pain, I suppose.
Harry! Get your mind out of the gutter! He's really sick!'
“You're sick. Where are your pajamas?”

Snape lifted his arm vaguely
then dropped it with a grunt.

Harry looked around the room
trying to discern what he was pointing at. “Over here?”
he asked, moving towards the armoire.

“Never
mind them,” Snape said heavily. He was already clumsily
burrowing his way into the blankets in some bizarre, mole-ish parody.
If it weren't for the sight of Snape's bare arse when he turned
around, Harry would have laughed. As it was, the mental image was
burned into his retinas, probably for all time. He cleared his
throat, steeled himself, and adjusted the blankets more properly
around the older man.

Snape stared blearily up at him.
“Why must you be such a meddlesome prat?” Severus asked
through his fever-induced haze.

“Why
did you let Lucius do those things to you?” Harry snapped back
without thinking.

Half asleep, Snape actually
answered. “To Lucius, I was someone useful.”

“He
treated you like a house elf. Worse, even!”

“He
acknowledged me as someone whose existence wasn't meaningless. From
that moment, he owned me.”

“But!”
Harry started to protest, but was interrupted by Snape's deep
breathing—a gentle sound that was very nearly a snore. “You
bastard, you fell asleep in the middle of a conversation,” he
complained. “Geez, and you complain that I have the attention
span of a gnat. Look who's talking.” He moved forward, gently
nudging Snape onto his back and pushing the hair away from his brow.
He was burning up, but Merlin,
he was still somehow so charming.

Harry went to the bathroom for a
cool washcloth to put on the older man's forehead. Severus' last
words echoed through him like a dirge. To be acknowledged as someone
whose existence had value—he knew how important a feeling that
was. He could remember his eleventh birthday, when suddenly not only
did his life have meaning, but he was famous. It had filled a hole in
his chest. Life finally had meaning. Lucius had given Snape that
meaning. Harry thought about that for a long time, trying to decide
if that changed his opinion of the man. He thought of Snape's
memory—doing Lucius' homework, having his face shoved onto the
man's dick until he choked. It did change his opinion of Lucius after
all; he hated the man even more now. At least as much, he thought, as
he'd ever hated Voldemort...and maybe more.

“Accio,
chair,” Harry sighed. He couldn't leave Snape alone when he was
this ill. He'd stay, at least until the fever broke, change the
washcloth every now and again.

Severus dreamed. In his dream,
James was laughing at him. Sirius was laughing too. Lucius laughed,
and ordered him to carry Narcissa's things. He tripped, and Lily
laughed. Harry looked down on him, like he was beneath his notice. He
looked down and realized he was a gangling fourteen year old boy
again—and that he was naked. Dumbledore flicked his wand and
suddenly he was at the Ministry of Magic—on trial for a crime
and he didn't know what it was, wasn't prepared to defend himself,
and he was still naked. The laughter around him was cacophonous.
“What's the matter, Severus?” Voldemort chided with a
bemused smirk (Why was Voldemort even there?). “Can't even get
a little thing like dying right? Honestly, what can someone like you
have left to live for?”
- 3
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You Don't See Me