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What it comes down to	By : melinda1293 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 115219 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 6. Snape

Snape walked briskly up the walk towards Malfoy Manor, his robes billowing behind him, trying to formulate a plan on getting Potter and his ignorant friends out of the dungeons. He carried strengthening solution and polyjuice potion in one pocket of his robes, a small portkey in the other. Besides that, he had no real plan for getting them out of this mess alive. Most likely his carefully concealed duplicity would be exposed in the process. Years’ worth of work and sacrifice, of prostrating himself before the Dark Lord, of mastering Occlumency to fool even the greatest wizard of all time, lost to the idiocy of the foolish boy.
Sweeping up to the gates, he raised his left arm, passing through them as if they were water, and he took the steps two at a time. He knew they had Potter; Lucius was beside himself with glee, gloating over their prize, inviting him to join them in their fun with the boy, knowing how much Snape hated him.
He’d used his duties at Hogwarts as an excuse until now, but the boy hadn’t managed to squeak out of this tight spot, and his time was quickly running out. Voldemort had been abroad, but would be returning tomorrow, and if Dumbledore’s portrait was to be believed, the hope of the whole Wizarding World would end if Potter wasn’t ready to face him. And Dumbledore assured him that the boy wasn’t ready, though he wouldn’t explain how running and hiding for almost a year could have been preparing him. Snape believed all the time in the world wouldn’t have prepared Potter to face the Dark Lord. He was simply too powerful for a mediocre wizard like Potter to defeat, no matter how many ragtag friends he managed to gather around him, or throw in front of him. He had more confidence, frankly, in Granger’s abilities, to be honest.
Snape had been close to two of the most powerful wizards of all time, and Potter paled in comparison. But here he was, betting his life now that one of those powerful wizards hadn’t been just a foolish old man out of his once-brilliant mind.
On days like this, he didn’t know which of the two wizards he despised more. One seduced with power and ruled with fear. The other understood your deepest nature and manipulated with love. One had murdered the woman he loved. The other used her as a weapon against him. Both of them had controlled him nearly all of his life.
Lucius met him at the door and escorted him across the threshold.
“Severus, at last,” Lucius drawled. “You’ve almost waited too long. I admit there isn’t much left of Mr. Potter, but I’m sure you’ll find something to entertain yourself.”
“Indeed,” he replied as he was led down the hall, through the heavy wooden door and down the stairs into the basement dungeons.
They walked towards the door of one room. Avery was sitting in a chair outside it, cleaning the dirt from his fingernails with the tip of a small knife. Getting to his feet as they approached, he pointed over his shoulder at the door with his knife.
“He’s in there, but Bella was with him all night, so I bet he ain’t feelin’ up to no visitors,” he told them, and then laughed sycophantically at his own joke.
Snape merely stared down his hooked nose at him, and after a moment, the laughter dying away, Avery said, “Well, yeah, anyway, he’s in there,” and he opened the door with a quick, “Alohamora.”
The door swung inward with a creaking of hinges, but Snape did not immediately enter.
“Where are his friends? Weasley and Granger? Have you disposed of them already?”
“No,” Lucius replied with disgust, leaning in close to him and lowering his voice. “Bella is saving them for something. She’s completely mad, of course, but she’s got plans for Potter’s last day as a guest in my home.”
Snape raised his eyebrows. “Interesting. I’m sure that whatever the lovely Bellatrix has in mind doesn’t bode well for young Mr. Potter or his friends.”
Brushing past Avery, he stepped into the small room. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that met his eyes, but he let none of the shock show on his face. Potter was chained to the wall in the far corner of the room. He was totally nude, and his whole body was covered in blood and bruises, some fresh and some blackening with age.
Snape gathered it all in with his trained eye. Many of the innumerable wounds on his body were an angry red, inflamed with infection, it appeared. Potter’s breathing was labored, and he suspected that one or more of the boy’s ribs were cracked or broken. Hanging by his arms from the walls, every bone stood out on his emaciated frame. All of that registered in an instant, and that was just what he could see on the outside. There was no cataloging how much more damage had been done internally.
It had been nearly a year since he had last laid eyes on the boy, and it was clear to him now that he was a boy no longer. He had certainly matured. A week’s worth of beard grew on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes had aged him prematurely. His chest was mostly smooth, but black hair traveled in a straight line down from his navel to frame his full manhood, and Severus could understand what Bella had found to do with him all evening.
He had to acknowledge that Potter was a fine specimen, thin but muscular before his capture. Yet he was aware, too, the nature of many of his other Death Eater colleagues, and knew that Bella wasn’t the only one who would have taken pleasure with his form.
Many had wondered about his own leanings over the years, Snape knew, as he’d never been in the company of any other, man or woman. There was only one person in the world he had ever loved, and this boy was the reason she was now gone from him forever. That thought made his enmity for Potter burn through him.
Turning, he made to close the door behind him, giving himself some privacy to assess the situation, to formulate a plan, but Avery and Lucius followed him into the room, eager to watch what he had in store for the boy. His loathing of Potter was legendary among the Death Eaters, after all. Or maybe it was to satisfy their lingering doubt about his true loyalty, for he knew he’d never been able to completely dispel the rumors about him circulating among them, many from Bellatrix herself.
What the bloody hell was he supposed to do now? He was certainly able to take out both Avery and Lucius. Lucius didn’t even have a wand for godsake, but he still held out hope that he could extract them all from this catastrophe with minimal damage to his position. Sighing, he shut the door with a click and turned to face Potter, steeling himself for what was to come.
Stepping close to the boy, Snape grasped his chin in his hand and forced his face up. Potter’s hair was longer than it had been when he’d seen him last, but no less messy. With the stubble on his face and those damnable eyes closed, his resemblance to his father was uncanny. The hatred for that man, so familiar to him, cultivated since childhood, washed over him, and for the first time in his life, he was glad for it. It would make this so much easier to do.
“Well, well, Potter,” he began in his smooth, cold voice, slapping his former student on the cheek. “I can’t say I’m surprised to find you here like this.”
The boy stirred, opening his eyes. They were bloodshot from fatigue, and it seemed to magnify the intensity of the green. Without the glasses, they were so much like Lily’s that Snape actually took a step back, releasing the boy’s chin, the breath catching in his chest.
He had to glance away from them a moment, to break the spell. Recovering quickly, he went on, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you and your friends would find yourself back in the Dark Lord’s grasp.”
It took a moment for the boy’s eyes to focus on him, and Snape suspected that he might be delirious with fever, or possibly madness. Then he saw the recognition in them, and Potter actually snorted with laughter.
“Oh, God, it’s you, Snape,” he croaked, his voice almost unrecognizable from damage. He sounded lethargic, his words slurring together. “And here I was thinking I was getting away without being mind-fucked by you.”
He giggled again.
“I did wish for you instead of her, though, so I guess it’s my own fault, but you’re too late, Professor. I’m already all fucked out, or fucked up.”
His wheezy giggles turned to raspy coughs, doubling him up.
Snape’s eyes did widen in surprise at that.
“Mind fucking?” he asked with distaste. “Really, Potter, do you mean Legilimency?”
“Yeah that,” he replied with a flicking of his fingertips, as if to ward off an irksome fly. “But I’m done letting you take any more from me.”
The madness drained from his face then, replaced by a blinding hatred that mirrored Snape’s own.
“You killed Dumbledore,” Potter accused. “And he saved you, you fucking coward! You took him from me, just like you took my parents. I know it was you who told Voldemort to go after them. He killed them because of you! You’ve taken everything from me!”
Snape’s vision went red, and he reached out and slapped Harry hard across the face.
Coward was he? Thief of the people Potter loved? No. It was this boy who had stolen everything from him!
“I don’t think so, Potter,” he hissed. “It is you who has taken everything. Your parents are dead because of you. Dumbledore is dead because of you, Diggory, your mangy godfather, countless others, and now it seems you’ve gotten your friends killed, too.”
Moving in close to the boy, he jabbed at his chest, punctuating every accusation.
“It is your carelessness, Potter, your selfishness, your C-O-W-A-R-D-I-C-E that has caused this.”
It was as if he had struck the boy again as Harry reeled backwards, shock registering on his face at Snape’s words.
“That’s right,” he said with satisfaction. “If you want to wound with words, Potter, you’re out of your league.”
“FUCK YOU!” Harry shouted, and with surprising quickness he kicked out at Snape.
Grasping the chains supporting him, both heels hit Severus in the gut, catching him unawares. The impact sent him flying backwards to land on his back in the dirt, the breath whooshing out of him.
Jumping back to his feet, white with fury, Snape started forward again, intent on doing as much damage as possible, but he was forced backwards again by a shield charm erupting around Potter. Standing momentarily stunned, he stared at the boy whose lips were pulled back in a snarl. He was impressed in spite of himself.
Potter should not have been capable of this type of magic. Not in his condition, not without a wand. He thought that perhaps Dumbledore might have been hiding more about the boy than he imagined. More than just where they went on their little excursions from Hogwarts, more than what Potter and his friends were up to while the wizarding world waited for their Chosen One.
It was clear that he was becoming a powerful wizard. Still, it would come to nothing if he couldn’t get him out of here. The shield was already wavering. He didn’t know if Potter was even aware that he’d cast it.
Then Avery was beside him, intent on aiding him, it appeared.
“I do not require your assistance Avery,” he said bitingly as he tried to adjust his cloak, which had become tangled around him from the fall. His pocket was damp. He knew that at least one of the potion bottles had broken, and he was furious with the boy again.
“Impressive Potter,” he sneered, “very impressive.”
With a wave of his wand, the shield collapsed.
“It seems you’ve done more than merely hide from the Dark Lord all this time,” he remarked as he approached. “It appears you’ve benefitted from Ms. Granger’s careful tutelage. She may be a Mudblood, but I’ll admit that she is a very clever girl. Of that, there is no question.”
They were face to face now.
“Tell me, Potter, what have you and your friends been up to?” he asked on a whisper.
Then his curiosity got the better of him, the need to have all of Dumbledore’s secrets with the boy revealed to him, to understand the plans that Dumbledore did not think him trustworthy enough to be privy.
“Legilimens!” he cried, and he was in before Potter could put up any resistance.
Images were coming at him quickly, of Potter and Dumbledore in the Headmaster’s office, the Pensieve on the desk between them, of the two of them on a cliff at the ocean’s edge. He could feel Potter resisting now, yelling, and he pushed forward. They were getting near it now, it seemed.
They were in a dark cave, in the middle of a black lake filled with Inferi, and Potter was feeding goblets of some potion to the headmaster from a large stone basin. Then they were surrounded by fire in a small boat, then in Hogsmeade, looking up at Hogwarts castle, the Dark Mark in the sky, Dumbledore barely able to support himself, and Snape knew what he would see next. He tried to pull away from those memories, but Potter was not resisting him now. Now he was feeding the images to him, directing the flow, and he did see.
He saw them at the top of the tower, watched as Dumbledore was disarmed and Potter was immobilized. Watched from Potter’s eyes as Draco lowered his wand, and then watched as he himself cast the curse he’d been forced to cast by Dumbledore. He saw the hatred in his own eyes and it unnerved him.
Snape attempted to break the spell, but Potter would not let go. He saw through the eyes of a child in a crib, his beloved Lily begging for the life of her child before being struck down without mercy. Then he saw Voldemort pointing a wand at his face, the green light rushing from it, blinding him.
His head throbbed in pain as he fought with Potter. Then the boy began flinging his own thoughts back at him now. Thoughts the boy had stolen from the Pensieve in his dungeon office. Scenes from his own wretched childhood, of humiliations suffered at the hands of James Potter and his friends.
He struck out, catching Potter below the left eye, splitting the skin open with his fist, and breaking the spell. Staggering backwards, apoplectic with rage now, he was blinded by fury at Potter’s enjoyment of the humiliation he had suffered. But he would not be humiliated anymore! Not by this boy, not by his father, nor any of his father’s friends. It was his turn to humiliate, his turn to exact revenge.
He was not aware of releasing Potter from his bonds. Unaware of them struggling, grappling with each other so that he had Potter pinned against the wall, grasping him by the throat, his wand pointing in the boy’s hated face.
For the first time in his life he understood his obsession with this child. He was the embodiment of everything Snape despised and yet loved. The eyes of the woman he could not forget, whom he had loved so intensely from the moment he first saw her as a child, packaged in the face of the man who had stolen her from him. Potter was the physical manifestation of Lily’s rejection, her choice that stared back at him with her eyes from the potions classroom, from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, staring at him now, and he found himself physically aroused by both his lust for her and his animosity for him.
“Get on your knees, Potter,” he bellowed, though they were only inches apart, both of them breathing heavily.
“Go to Hell!” shouted Harry, struggling again to throw Snape off him.
“You will obey me, Potter, for once in your miserable life. Get on your knees!”
He was forcing him down. Harry’s knees buckled under the weight, his back scraping down the rough stone wall, too weak to resist the larger, stronger man, exhausted from the effort.
Snape was beyond comprehending what he was doing or saying, focused only on dominating this boy, making him burn with humiliation. The same humiliation he had felt in front of her all those years ago at the hands of his father, in front of the whole school.
Fumbling with his robes, Snape freed himself from the confines of his trousers. He felt a rush of heat pooling in his gut from the horror and disgust he saw on Potter’s face when he understood what Snape intended.
“Too long I have let your insolence slide, boy. Too long I have suffered your cheek. I managed to teach you nothing in our time together at Hogwarts, but this is a lesson you will learn today, Potter.”
“NO!” Harry shouted, struggling furiously to push Snape away from him.
“No? Perhaps we should fetch that insufferable know-it-all Granger then? She’s a very quick learner. I’m sure once I’ve taught her, she can demonstrate the proper technique for you on Lucius, or Avery here.”
His words seemed to have no affect as Harry continued to struggle.
“Avery! Bring the Mudblood,” Snape commanded, watching Harry’s face fill with sudden fear.
“No!” Harry yelled, before Avery had even taken a single step towards the door.
His shoulders sagged, his hands falling from Snape’s legs, surrendering.
“You’re a true Gryffindor, Potter,” he sneered, stepping in close again, seizing the boy by the hair and positioning himself in front of him.
“I’ll pull every tooth out of your head one by one if you even think of biting me,” he snarled, and they were frozen like that for a moment.
Then slowly, those green eyes on him, Harry opened his mouth.

~ . ~

Gah! This one I really struggled to write. Next chapter will be Harry's POV.
G
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What it comes down to

Chapter 6. Snape