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Gone to Madness	By : everwild34 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 14548 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The characters used in this story and any recognizable places or situations belong to JK Rowling. I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe and am making no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: First off, since I have yet to figure out how you respond to individual reviews on this site (if that's even possible) I would like to take a moment and thank every one of my reviewers:
Dhalim, shadow, HeartStar, mrequecky, qwerty, Snapy, Shivawn, Anon, celestialuna, ladynightvamp (I apologize, but I prefer not to do any specific character bashing in my stories. I just don't want to get out of character and if it's something I don't think Dumbledore would do, then he won't do it. I suppose this could be considered a Snape-bashing story, but there actually is an explanation for his behavior so I hope he doesn't seem OOC.), Salon_Kitty (Many thanks for the long and informative review), Cruel_Hero, alwayslove.
Just a little warning, though I have finished the seventh chapter of this story, I haven't gotten any farther than that so far. There should be about 9-ish chapters total. Normally, I am a supremely slow writer, so yeah, try not to kill me when the time comes.
Hope you all enjoy! Creepy chapter title, huh?
Chapter 6: A Little Gratitude

Harry could feel Snape�s presence behind him, making no sound but for the quiet breaths that whistled in and out of his overly large nose, just standing there, contemplating Harry�s stiff form.

�So�� There was a pause. It seemed as if Snape was waiting for Harry to say something. Harry closed his eyes and slowly unclenched his tight fists, attempted to ease his hunched shoulders, said nothing. He could feel Snape glaring daggers into the back of his head.

�Nothing at all to say for yourself then, Mr. Potter?� Snape asked him condescendingly, robes swishing as he moved around to face him. �Stubborn as ever, I see.�

Harry looked up into the cold, unrelenting black eyes. �What do you want me to say?� he deadpanned. He no longer had the energy to be openly defiant to this man and he knew that he sounded more defeated and tired than anything else, but there wasn�t exactly anything he could do to change it.

Snape rolled his eyes. �Of course you wouldn�t think to show a little gratitude after last night, would you Potter?�

�Gratitude -- ?� Harry started incredulously, blood boiling. What on earth did he have to thank Snape for?

�Yes, you little ingrate!� Snape hissed furiously, �Did you ever pause to consider what would have happened if I had decided to report you for being out of bed so late at night? You would have gotten a number of detentions at the least! Not to mention the fact that if I hadn�t been the one to find you, someone else, namely the High Inquisitor, might have discovered you. And you can be sure that she would have been calling for your expulsion the moment she did! Honestly Potter, do you ever pause to think before you act?� Snape paused, lips twisted in a snarl as he glared down at the boy, apparently beyond words.

Harry bit his lip. It really had been a stupid, stupid move on his part. �Look, I�m sorry, okay?�

But Snape seemed not to have heard him. �And then, of course, the Headmaster wouldn�t have been very pleased with you, now would he? Do you think that I�ve been taking the time out of my schedule for you, spending hours trying to teach you such a subtle art merely for my own entertainment, boy? Do you think the protection of your mind from the Dark Lord�s penetration and influence so unimportant?�

Harry ducked his head, glowering at his dirty sneakers. How the bloody hell was Snape managing to make him feel guilty about this? It wasn�t as if the man had given him much of a choice in the matter.

�I wasn�t ditching on purpose or because I thought it wasn�t important or anything!� he began hotly, �I just forgot, okay? I forgot that I had Occlumency last night and I fell asleep. Besides, I would have made it back to Gryffindor Tower just fine if you hadn�t been there looking for me.�

�And you knew this before you set out on your little walk, did you?� Snape scoffed.

�No, but --�

�And yet you still decided to --�

�I GET IT!� Harry shouted, �I screwed up, alright? I should have remembered that I had lessons with you, I shouldn�t have left the tower so close to curfew, I shouldn�t have let myself fall asleep like that! I know that. What the hell more do you want to hear?�

There were several prolonged seconds of ringing silence, and then --

�I suggest you adjust your tone, Mr. Potter. I am your professor and you will speak to me with respect!�

Harry was positively fuming. Snape was disgusting, ugly, old and bitter. He had managed to turn Harry�s life into a living hell in the space of, at most, a single hour, one week and a day ago, in this very room. Respect? �The hell I will!�

�You insolent little brat!�

Snape raised his wand and Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

�Legilimens!� snarled the furious potions master, and a moment later, Harry found himself watching as his most precious memories streamed by, a flickering film behind his eyes.

He was flying, reaching out for the snitch when a sense of dread overwhelmed him. People were screaming and three tall dementors stood below, watching him.

He was six years old, small and fearful as his uncle tossed him roughly into the cupboard once again. It was so dark inside, but he didn�t mind it much anymore.

Aunt Marge was hovering over the table, her great body swelled up like a balloon as all the buttons popped off her tweed jacket.

It stopped and he was left panting on the dungeon floor, a place he had become quite familiar with in the past weeks. Dusting himself off quickly, Harry stood facing his hated teacher, glaring defiantly back into Snape�s cool gaze.

�You could have at least warned me!� he said angrily.

�Do you think the Dark Lord will give warning, allow you a chance to prepare yourself before he attacks? No Potter, you must be ready at all times.� Snape sneered, wand lowered slightly.

�Don�t I have to learn how to actually do it first?� said Harry snidely.

�What do you think I�ve been doing these last several weeks, Potter? Playing?� Snape demanded, eyes narrowed.

�You haven�t taught me anything! I don�t have a clue what the hell I�m supposed to be doing!�

�Then figure it out! Legilimens!�

Again, Snape rifled through the contents of his mind, casting the dull, more generic ones aside in search of something more painful or embarrassing. Harry could feel what Snape was doing even as he watched the rush of images flash by. Whatever Dumbledore wanted to believe, Snape was not doing this to help him in any way.

Then he was in the dungeons again, the situation almost exactly the same as the present except Harry was the one going through Snape�s mind. He knew what was coming and he knew that Snape couldn�t be allowed to view this particularly memory, but he felt powerless to stop it under the onslaught of Snape�s attack.

Snape advanced on him, struck him, pinned him against the wall.

Harry heard himself speak and he cringed out how pathetic and weak he sounded. �Sir, I --� Cut off before he could finish the hesitant protest.

No, no, no, no! �Get out now, you bastard!� In his mind, he was screaming it, but the memory continued. Harry didn�t want to see.

Pinned against the wall, hands above his head, not good not good not good!

�Stop! Get the hell out of my mind! Professor, please!�

Trousers down and then it hurt so badly. He heard himself screaming his agony, his mortification� it was as if it was happening all over again. Snape couldn�t see, couldn�t see.

But Harry could feel him there, watching. He could even sense some of the emotions coming off of the man: Shock, incredulity, and then suddenly he was furious again.

Harry was lying on the ground, head aching horribly, shaking all over. Not even when he had gone to Dumbledore, begging for a stop to the Occlumency lessons had this possibility occurred to him. He felt like an absolute idiot now, what had he been thinking coming down here? He should have known.

�Potter.�

He closed his eyes. He didn�t want to hear anything Snape had to say.

�How dare� absolutely preposterous� How did you do it, Potter?�

Harry�s eyes flew open and he sat up warily, caught off guard. �How did I do what?� he snapped aggressively.

�How did you plant that false memory? And� why on earth�?�

�What are you talking about?�

�Don�t play stupid Potter. You know as well as I do that that particular event never happened.� said Snape impatiently. �And what the hell was the purpose of that little display?�

�I didn�t plant it there --�

�Then explain to me how that memory got inside your head, boy!� Snape bellowed, eyes wide with a mad rage.

Any other explanation but the truth would incriminate him in one way or another. What the hell, he thought tiredly, Snape bloody well deserved it. �The same way all memories do, Professor.�

�DON�T LIE TO ME, POTTER!�

Harry looked Snape straight in the eye and said quite calmly, �I�m not lying, Professor. You� did that at the end of last week�s lesson. It�s why --�

�Shut up!�

Harry flinched, a reaction not missed by the potions master.

�That never happened, Potter.� Snape said, slightly more sedately. �You must know this.�

�You had my wand in your pocket and you didn�t remember how it got there.�

Harry knew that he should not be able to stay so calm, but it was as if Snape�s own confusion and rage had anchored him. He should be the one that was angry at Snape, cursing him, screaming at him, accusing him� but he felt as if he was floating above it all. They were discussing whether or not this man had raped him� and he was the one least affected by it. His head was seriously screwed up.

Snape was staring at him, brow furrowed, mouth slightly slack.

�There is another explanation.�

Harry snapped, the calm and detached feeling falling away like a ton of bricks. �You may not remember, but I bloody LIVED IT! You -- you --�

A huge weight seemed to slam into his shoulders and everything crashed down on him all at once. He knees shook and folded beneath him. He was on the floor, unable to speak, scream, or cry, just staring at the cracked stone that made up the dungeon floor. Distantly, Harry heard Snape leave the room and, a minute later, come back. He saw Snape�s legs, kneeling right in front of him. His vision blurred and he was shaking uncontrollably.

He heard Snape mumbling something angrily under his breath and then a cool glass of water was thrust roughly into one of his trembling hands. Gingerly, he sipped at it, trying not to splash too much over the rim and onto his robes. No idea why he bothered; it was a lost cause regardless.

�Calm down, Potter.� Snape placed a hand tenderly on his shoulder, choosing to ignore the violent shudder that ripped through Harry�s body at the touch.

�I have to get out of here!� Harry gasped. The cup the water had been in shattered as it hit the floor, and Harry was on his feet in an instant reaching for the door.

�Potter,� Harry paused, hand on the handle. �The Headmaster should know.�
()()()()
He was flying down the corridor, so similar to that night, but this time he knew where he was going: Professor Dumbledore�s office. He didn�t care how late it was, he didn�t care that Dumbledore would, more likely than not, be disinclined to believe him; He didn�t care that he probably looked a right mess and he didn�t care that he might be seen as weak. None of it mattered.

Over the past week, the memory had faded. It was always there, ever present and looming, but it had seemed less real somehow. Like a terrible nightmare that had been horrible while it lasted, but had passed. He hadn�t even begun healing from it, but he had hoped that with time he would be able to. Not anymore. Each sensation was vivid and at the forefront of his mind, each and every detail plastered on the front of his skull, wide open for anyone to see. He just couldn�t do this anymore. He needed help.

He should have told Hermione last night, a week ago. Then he wouldn�t have had to deal with this, Snape wouldn�t have seen, and he wouldn�t have had to relive it when Snape had broken into his mind.

His vision was blurring, and he could barely see where he was going, but he refused to give in and allow himself to cry. He blinked to rid himself of the gathering tears, but that only seemed to make it worse. The world was a watercolor swirl of dark paint, bleeding together, black on grey on brown on green�

He stumbled and tripped, falling hard on the cold stone floor. There was no one around, he was completely alone, but that could change. What if a Slytherin came out and found him here like this.

Resolutely pushing the thought away, he placed his palms flat against the ground and scrambled to push himself to his feet. He was blind as a bat, basically defenseless, and he

Couldn�t

Get

Up.

A little hysterical, Harry tried again, but his arms wobbled the moment he put any weight on them and he collapsed again and again, becoming more frustrated with each failed attempt.

A tingling feeling was spreading throughout his limbs and it felt as if hundred pound weights had been tied to his body, holding him down.

His eyes were now clear of tears as determination had forced them away, but he still couldn�t see, the blurred dungeons swaying around him. No! What was happening to him? This couldn�t be happing!

Exhausted, panting heavily through his open mouth, Harry lay there, unable to move. Several minutes later, a large shadow fell over him. Garbled words he couldn�t hear.

A boot clad foot nudged his side and turned him over, none to gently, onto his back. More words were spoken. A pair of arms were beneath him, one at his knees, the other in the middle of his back, lifting him up, up, up, his head lolling back unsupported.

A loud noise echoed around him and the light changed, became a little stronger here. The same noise again.

Something smooth was being poured down his throat and he coughed and spluttered. A moment later, everything came back into focus.

He was laying on a bed in a large room he recognized as Snape�s quarters. The man himself was standing beside him, setting an empty glass vial on the rickety end table to Harry�s left with a soft clink. Despite being able to hear and see again, Harry found that he still couldn�t move or speak, muscles throughout his body unresponsive and heavy.

He wanted to jump up and curse Snape right then and there, demand to know what Snape thought he was doing, hit him, kill him, watch him writhe under the Cruciatus Curse. Immobilized, he could do nothing but stare up at him, the accusation clear in his burning green eyes.

�Your father deserved what he got.� said Snape, calmly moving to sit on top of Harry, straddling his hips. Harry�s breaths were coming in short gasps as he watched him. �And as for your mother��

Rough hands carefully opened his robes, pushing them off his shoulders, pulling the limp arms through so that Harry was laying on top of them, splayed out beneath him and rumpled in an uncomfortable bulge in the middle of his back.

�She had a choice, didn�t she.� It wasn�t a question, merely a statement of fact, meaning that she could have chosen Snape over James, that she might not have died.

�And where does that leave you, I wonder?�

Nimble fingers plucked at the buttons on his shirt, loosened his gold and red tie and slipped it over his head.

Harry�s eyes were wide as saucers, his chest heaving, but still unable to move an inch. Snape popped open the fly of his jeans and pulled the zipper down in one quick, fluid movement. Harry managed a small whimper.

�Quiet, Potter!� snapped Snape in that same tone of voice he used in the Potions classroom everyday, even as he was tugging Harry�s baggy jeans down his thin legs, using one hand while the other lifted Harry�s hips up off the bed to make the task easier.

Harry didn�t want to be �quiet�, what he wanted was to tear Snape�s skinny throat out! He willed his body to move, to at least twitch or do something, but it was useless. It was as if the nerve endings connecting Harry�s body to his brain had been snipped, leaving him floating around inside his own head watching as Snape manipulated his body, casually undressing him.

This was different from last time, he knew, and at the same time it wasn�t. Snape wasn�t in a blind rage, hitting him, screaming at him; there was no violence, just a calculated meticulousness as Snape whipped Harry�s trousers down over his ankles and let them fall to the floor behind him with a near silent swish, as he spread the flaps of Harry�s white shirt and slowly pulled it off, revealing his pale chest.

But the way in which it was done didn�t really matter in the end. Snape was about to molest him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Same as last time.
&&&&&

Harry�s eyes watered threateningly when Snape finally moved to his boxers, the last bit of protection he had. They too were pulled down and discarded somewhere at the foot of the bed, so that Harry was lying completely naked beneath Professor Snape, who was now hovering over him, hands placed on either side of Harry�s head.

Snape looked sharply into his eyes and Harry clamped his shut, the only defense he had left. This was just too much. It wasn�t supposed to happen again, he had been on his way to see Dumbledore to put a stop to it, he should�ve gone faster. But he hadn�t, and here he was.

Harry shivered as Snape�s calloused fingers brushed against his limp member and pulled it up into his hand, rubbing up and down the shaft. Snape�s hands were too rough, too dry, tugging in a way that quickly turned painful. The man realized this, spat into his palm, and started again.

It should not have felt as good as it did. Snape was a greasy, dirty old man but that didn�t seem to matter to Harry�s traitorous body, the heat quickly pooling beneath his belly. He was already half hard when Snape stopped minutes later and adjusted his position.

Hands gripped his knobbly knees and pushed his legs apart allowing Snape to move in between them, hands quickly undoing his own robes and trousers. Harry looked straight up at the ceiling, not wanting to see it, not again, but he sure as hell felt it.

Too big, he thought desperately, it was too fucking big and he didn�t want it there!

He grit his teeth, anticipating the pain and he sure as hell wasn�t disappointed. It burned, it ached, a raw agony that absolutely had to stop because he just couldn�t take it, and he was stretching around it, tearing, and he could feel the warm gush of blood already. Snape slipped past the tight ring of muscles and stopped, panting heavily above him.

�Just relax.� Snape spat. Not relaxing at all, Harry mused, and -- Merlin -- he was moving again, pushing in farther and farther, making the pain worse. Harry�s eyes were clenched tightly shut and he instinctively tried to push the intrusion out, wincing when that only made it worse.

Snape grunted and forced himself all the way in, pausing another minute to rest, breathing deeply through his nose. Harry could feel each breath rush out and brush his face, tickling his nose. Then Snape�s lips were on his, crashing down, biting painfully hard and Snape�s tongue greedily forced Harry�s own mouth open and darted inside, sweeping over his teeth and tongue. After everything that had happened and was still happening, Harry was completely shocked, frozen in mind and body.

One of Snape�s hands wandered down and tugged again at Harry�s penis, and this time it sent an electric shock straight up his spine and into his brain. The combination of overwhelming sensations was just too much and Harry responded to the fierce touch, ashamed and at the same time eternally grateful for the distraction.

Then one of Snape�s thrusts hit something inside him that sent him reeling, eyes rolling around in his head, a sensation that was pure ecstasy. Before he could recover, Snape positively slammed into that same spot again with so much more force and lights flashed before his eyes, again and again.

He could feel it building and his mouth was wide open, gasping in sharp breaths, not one coherent thought left in his dazed mind. Close� so close� almost�

Hot, sticky liquid flooded inside him a moment before he came, spurting white semen all over his stomach and Snape�s hand, wishing that he could scream or moan or something because it was too much to contain. Distantly he heard Snape let out a gusty sigh and felt the man�s weight collapse on top of him.
&&&&&
A minute later, when Snape had caught his breath, he rolled off of Harry�s still limp body and lay beside him on the large and delectably soft bed.

Harry�s eyes drifted closed and an intense calm stole over him, and he was just so tired, and he didn�t want to think anymore. He fell asleep in his least favorite teacher�s bedchamber, naked and filthy, lips red and swollen, blood soaking into the sheets around him and drying on the insides of his thighs. It was just too much.
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Gone to Madness