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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Again, I must thank all of you for taking the time to read this story and review. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get the next chapter out, been having some issues with my computer. The charger for my laptop has shorted out and I'm afraid the battery can't hold for very long. They are disgustingly expensive, at least everywhere I've looked, so it might take some time considering my laptop is the only computer I have access to. *sigh*
Ah well, I'll get back to it when I can.
Enjoy,
Chapter 7: A Waking Nightmare

Harry awoke feeling absolutely wretched.

His entire body ached terribly and the crusted blood on his legs clung to the skin and the bed sheets beneath him, pulling uncomfortably whenever he tried to move and itching something fierce. His behind was also quite sore, but it wasn�t nearly as bad as it had been that first night, just serving as a little reminder for him -- as if he really needed another.

Oh yes, Harry knew exactly where he was and what had happened. What exactly he intended to do about it however managed to escape him. And so there he lay, unmoving, eyes closed, trying to ignore the warm presence of the man, of the monster, blissfully asleep and unaware beside him.

Tears pricked at his closed eyes and his entire body shuddered in revulsion despite his attempts to hold still. His lips trembled and the wrenching sobs pushed against his throat, trying to make themselves known. Harry shoved right back and swallowed them down, unwilling to give voice to the wild thing clawing and tearing at his insides because the moment it escaped, everything would just become that much more real and Snape would probably wake up and then Harry would have to deal with it all.

This right here, staying completely still and just pretending everything away, it was much better. He kept his eyes closed because while they weren�t open, he didn�t have to see the dungeon walls and the flickering lamps of Snape�s quarters. While they weren�t open, there was still the possibility that he was laying in his own bed, safe in Gryffindor Tower. He refused to move his body because while he remained still, he didn�t have to feel the blood between his legs and the silky sheets moving along his skin, so much different from those of his own bed. There wasn�t anyone in this room over the age of sixteen, just his friends and his classmates, people he trusted -- and there certainly wasn�t a thirty-something, disgusting old man laying beside him in this bed, taking slow deep breaths like a sleeping dragon. No, of course not.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip until he tasted the coppery tang of blood.

The pain that was all over his body, just the result of another rough Quidditch practice, nothing more. He would feel better later once he�d worked some of the soreness out of his stiff muscles and had had something decent to eat in the Great Hall during breakfast. This was nothing he couldn�t handle. Right. That�s why he felt like screaming himself hoarse, why he felt like dirty little insects were crawling under his skin, biting and chewing their way to the bone, why he was still laying here even though he knew that he was still in the boys� dormitory in Gryffindor Tower.

The illusion shattered as somebody (Ron, it was just Ron playing another joke) shouted suddenly in his ear and then Harry was tumbling in a tangle of silky sheets and blankets onto the cold stone floor of the dungeons. His eyes finally flew open as he landed with a quiet �Oof!� on his arse, caught completely off guard.

�What the hell do you think you�re doing, Potter?!�

He knew that voice. He also knew that it was most definitely not the voice of a fifteen-year-old teenage boy, not Ron�s voice or Dean�s or Neville�s or Seamus�s.

Harry didn�t answer, staring at his silk-covered knobbly knees, gently tugging the sheets tighter around himself, eyes blank and glassy. He heard the creaking of the bedsprings as Snape pushed himself up and the pit-pat of bare feet crossing the icy floor.

�Potter!�

Fingers snapped in front of Harry�s face, startling him so that, in reflex, he looked up at the man now kneeling beside him. He grit his teeth and tore his gaze away, examining the swirling pattern in the wood of the nearest bedside table, hands fisted in the sheets he held around himself, a white knuckled grip on the only scrap of protection he had left.

�Potter, what the hell�s the matter with you?� Snape growled impatiently, hands darting out to seize Harry�s shoulders in a rough, angry grip. �Look at me, you insolent child!�

Harry flinched visibly at the command and the unwanted contact, tearing himself away from Snape�s bloodstained hands, but dragged his eyes back up to the Professor�s pale face as he was told, surprised and hurt at what he saw there.

Snape was staring at his own crimson covered hands in horror, jaw slack, eyebrows furrowed, piercing black eyes wide, confusion and shock playing about his features as if he didn�t even know� as if he didn�t even remember.

The man shook himself and turned back to Harry, shoving the mystery to the back of his mind for the moment. �What --what are you doing in my chambers -- in my bed, Potter? And this� whose blood�?What the hell have you done this time, boy?�

Harry was shaking like a leaf, his face drained of color, whether in fury or in outright anguish, even he didn�t know. What the hell was this? What was going on?

�I asked you a question! Answer me!�

But Harry remained silent, gazing unseeingly into his Professor�s haunted eyes. Snape looked away, unnerved and flustered, something Harry had never seen on this particular man�s face before.

�For God�s sake, put some clothes on, Potter.� he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and glancing around for the boy�s missing robes. They lay in disarray in rumpled heaps around the bed, shoes and all. Snape summoned them with an almost lazy flick of his wand and tossed them all down at Potter�s feet before turning away and exiting through the door that led to his Potions lab, allowing the boy a bit of privacy.

Harry looked up as the door slammed closed and cast his gaze around the room, realizing that Professor Snape had actually left him alone.

Noticing the pile at his feet, Harry eyed the door distrustfully before dropping the sheets and quickly pulling on his boxers, white shirt, and trousers. Decent once more, still trembling and nervous, Harry tugged his arms through the sleeves of his robes and tripped into his socks and shoes. He checked various pockets in search of his wand and located it almost immediately, drawing it out and feeling the slender, comforting wood between his fingers once more.

He didn�t give a damn if Snape really had forgotten what he had done or not, this� this would never happen to him again. If he could get past Snape and find Professor Dumbledore, he knew he would be safe. Snape would be sent to Azkaban and he would never have to see his Potions Master�s ugly face again. What Snape had done to him� it was horrible, unforgivable, sick, disgusting, wrong�

�And yet you enjoyed it, didn�t you? It felt good, didn�t it?

No, no, he didn�t. He had hated every second of it.

But that was a lie, and he knew it. How else could he�could he�

Disgusted with himself, Harry shook his head as if to clear it and blinked away the gathering tears. He couldn�t even say it. If he couldn�t even say it inside his own head, to himself with no one around, how could he think he�d be able to tell someone else?

Harry shook his head irritably to rid himself of the poisonous thought and raised his eyes up to the door, determination and an old fire lighting in his eyes. It didn�t even matter now. All he had to do was get to Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, anyone. He had to get out of here. He�d figure out the rest of it later, once he was away from Snape and his damnable, nightmare of a bedroom.

First things first.

�Alohamora,� he whispered, wand lifted and pointed at the exit. There was no quiet click as he had expected to hear when the locking mechanism magically triggered. Had it not worked properly? Did Snape have this door protected from such a simple charm?

Tentatively, cautiously, Harry approached the door and placed his hand on the rusted handle, pressing his ear against the chilled wood. He heard nothing from the other side, but Snape had definitely gone through this door and could be waiting for him on the other side. On the other hand, the only other door he could see led into a bathroom, and he didn�t exactly fancy waiting around or hiding until Snape came in and found him. At least this way he had the chance that he wouldn�t be discovered.

Of course, none of this would matter if Snape had actually blocked up the door.

Quickly, in case he lost his nerve, Harry tugged on the latch, perhaps a little harder than was necessary -- and stood stunned for several seconds as the door easily glided open, revealing the Professor�s private potions lab. Several cauldrons bubbled and hissed over their large burners, occasionally sending off sparks or bursts of colored steam; enchanted candles drifted about the room, the flickering flames glowing a sickly green and casting a dim light that created more shadows than illumination; shelves lined the walls, stacked high with books and vials filled to the brim with different potions ingredients.

Professor Snape, however, was strangely absent.

Perhaps he had just� left. Had other business to attend to. Yeah, that must be it. So now, all he had to do was --

Bang!

Harry jumped like a frightened cat as a small door, what he had previously assumed to be a closet, burst open and slammed back against the wall and Professor Snape strode through the opening, examining a clear glass vial distractedly as he walked.

Startled, Harry stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the Professor pass him by without a second glass and set the little bottle down on a grime covered work table.

�Explain yourself.� he commanded quietly, his voice soft and dangerous, still not looking in Harry�s direction.

Harry decided it would be safest to play dumb, at least for now. �Sir?� he asked innocently, silently backing away in unease. Snape scoffed and finally turned to face him.

�Let�s not play games, Mr. Potter. What, pray tell, were you doing in my private chambers?�

�I� I don�t know, Profess--�

Snape interrupted with a roll of his eyes. �A likely story. Tell me Potter, what are you and your little friends up to this time?�

Harry blinked. �You -- you think that this was some sort of, what, a-a prank?�

Snape�s eyes were narrowed to dark slits and his mouth was set in a firm line. �Are you suggesting that it was something else, Mr. Potter?� Harry flinched and looked down at his toes, a horrible flush coloring his cheeks. God, he hoped Snape didn�t notice.

�No, no. I just�� he trailed off weakly, scuffing his trainers on the stone floor. He didn�t know what to say. Because telling the truth had worked so well the last time, he thought bitterly.

�I see.� came the sardonic reply. It was obvious that he didn�t.

Harry swallowed nervously and looked up, keeping his eyes fixed on some point above Snape�s right shoulder. �Can I go now?� he asked quietly.

Snape scrutinized for a moment, arms crossing languidly over his chest.

�No.�

Harry wanted to scream. He quickly scrambled for an excuse, or at least something believable.

�Ron and Hermione --�

� -- Will have to wait. I want answers, Potter, and I want them now.� Snape�s voice lowered dangerously. �Boy, do you honestly think me such a fool? Not a single word you have spoken to me since you walked through that door has been truth.�

Harry returned his gaze to the floor and said nothing. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this. The simple absurdity of it was almost laughable. Almost.

�Speak, idiot boy!� Snape barked suddenly, having run out of patience. Harry startled and jumped back, only to meet the solid wall.

�I�� he licked his parched lips, perhaps imagining that he could still taste the man�s lingering kiss on the still slightly swollen flesh. �I-I don�t --�

Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow. �Perhaps I should inform the Headmaster of the situation, seeing as you are so obviously too distressed to bother with explaining yourself.� He sneered mockingly, but something strange flashed in his eyes, so quickly gone again that Harry couldn�t be sure exactly what it was, or if he had even seen anything at all.

It took another minute for the actual words to sink in. Dumbledore� yes he would very much like to speak with Headmaster.

�I -- yes, that-that would be� yes.�

Snape watched him carefully for another moment, eyes apparently searching for something, then turned away and approached the dark fireplace. He threw a handful of floo powder into the grate and stepped back as the flames suddenly jumped to life, a brilliant green.

�Go on, then.� Snape sneered motioning him towards the flames.

Harry cautiously approached, eyes watching Snape the entire time until he backed into the fire, the warmth tickling wherever it came into contact with his exposed skin. He took a quick breath and clearly said, �Dumbledore�s office, Hogwarts.�

There was a whoosh as he was suddenly whisked away into the whirlwind that was floo travel, leaving Snape and his dreary potions lab behind him.

The howling that had filled his ears stopped as he stumbled out of the fire and onto a plush carpet, closing his eyes for a moment to rid himself of the dizzying sensation. He heard a few exclamations of surprise upon landing and opened his eyes to see Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Umbridge all staring back at him. Harry froze, caught off guard by the woman�s presence.

With everything that had happened over the past week, Harry had almost forgotten the High Inquisitor was there, all of his classes blending together in his previous zombie-like state. Now she looked down at him where he stood, a slow malicious grin stretching her wide mouth.

�Ah, Mr. Potter.� she simpered, watery eyes glimmering in the now yellow firelight. �What a surprise.�

Dumbledore stood from behind his desk, blue eyes piercing and watching him with concern. �Harry, my boy, what --�

He was interrupted as the fire once again flared to life and turned green before spitting out a distinctly un-frazzled Professor Snape. The man brushed a bit of soot from his robes and faced the room, eyes sweeping over the inhabitants until at last they came to rest on Harry, narrowing slightly as they did so.

�Headmaster Dumbledore,� he began smoothly, �I apologize for the intrusion. If this is a bad time --�

�No, not at all, my boy. Actually, Professor Umbridge here was just about to leave.�

Umbridge glowered at him, as if she felt she was missing out on something, but turned to leave with a little huff, pausing at the door.

�Oh and, Headmaster, I wanted to congratulate you.� she said sweetly, her beady eyes focused on Harry as she spoke, �Whatever methods you are using, please do continue. It has certainly been an improvement.�

Professor McGonagall glared at her back as the door shut behind her, nostrils flaring.

�Professor Snape, Mr. Potter.� Dumbledore inclined his head to each of them in greeting. �Perhaps you could sit down and we can discuss whatever it is you came here to discuss.�

Harry took one of the chairs placed before the Headmaster�s desk at the same time as Snape declined, standing stiffly near one of the walls.

�I discovered Mr. Potter in my --� a barely noticeable pause �-- lab earlier this morning and, when questioned, he refused to give me any sort of reasonable answer. When I found him, he was quite� shaken.�

Harry could feel their eyes burning into his skull, but stared resolutely at his hands, twisting nervously in his lap.

�Well, Mr. Potter. If you would enlighten us�� Dumbledore prompted, waiting.

Harry opened his mouth and took a shaky breath. This was his chance. He could tell them everything, right here, right now, and end it all. He could do this, he had to do this.

The words wouldn�t come out, lodging in his throat. He made a small choking noise at the almost physical sensation and, to his horror, felt a hot prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Just say it! Come on, say it! Tell them!

But he couldn�t. How could he tell them, the teachers he had known since he was eleven when he had first discovered that he was magic? The first adults he had met who did not look down on him with disdain, who did not treat him as if he was something less than the average human; the first people to provide him with a real home and some small sense of security.

�I��

How could he tell them� something like� something like this?

�Harry, are you alright? Have you been hurt?� Dumbledore�s voice, suddenly urgent as he watched Harry struggle.

Harry looked up to meet Dumbledore�s sincere gaze, and saw the fear there -- fear for him and his wellbeing. He buried his face in his hands and mumbled out an answer. �I-I don�t know, sir.�

�You don�t know what, Harry?�

�Can-can Snape just go? I don�t want to�� he trailed off uncertainly.

�It�s Professor Snape, Harry.� Dumbledore corrected gently, before looking towards the Potions Master in question.

�I don�t CARE if he�s a bloody Professor! I want him gone!� Harry shouted suddenly, head shooting up to glare at his Headmaster, eyes flashing.

�Mr. Potter!� Professor McGonagall admonished, slightly shocked. Dumbledore gave her a loaded look before turning back to Professor Snape.

�Severus?� he asked quietly.

�Certainly, Headmaster.�

A second later, Harry heard the door snap shut behind him, flinching a little at the noise.

�Harry?� said Dumbledore as soon as the man was gone.

�I�m sorry, sir. I just�� Harry shook his head helplessly and lapsed into silence. It should have been easier to talk to them with Snape gone, unable to hear his accusations, but it only seemed more impossible.

�Harry, has something happened?�

�No.� Harry said automatically. He paused for a good minute and then forced himself to speak again. �Y-yes.�

�Has your scar been hurting you? Another dream, perhaps?� The same conclusions Hermione had drawn days earlier.

�No, nothing like that, sir. It wasn�t Voldemort� at least-at least I don�t think it was.� he said thoughtfully.

�You don�t believe it to have anything to do with Voldemort?�

Harry ran a hand anxiously through his tangled hair. �I don�t know,� he moaned, frustrated with himself. What if that�s what had been happening. Maybe Snape was being possessed like Ginny had the year the Chamber of Secrets had opened. She had said that she couldn�t remember the things she�d done while under Riddle�s control.

�Harry --�

�It�s Snape, sir.� Harry said sharply, eyes squeezing shut.

�What about him, my dear boy?�

Harry took several deep breaths, steeling himself.

�Snape�s� what happened.�

There was a thick silence as the two Professors processed this, then Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him and said quietly, �I see.�

�No, you don�t!� Harry snapped, an irrational anger coming over him, dissipating almost as quickly as it had come. What the hell was wrong with him?

�You�re right, Harry, I don�t. I need you to tell me what has happened.�

�He� After Oc-clemency last week, he --� Harry�s throat closed off and the words became choked and thick. �I don�t k-know what happened. And then -- everything just --� God, now he was crying. He shut his eyes and pressed his palms hard against them, as if he was trying to force the tears back where they came from.

A small, warm weight rested on Harry�s shoulder and he jumped slightly, looking up to see Professor McGonagall, a comforting hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

�He-he wasn�t normal. Well, I dunno, maybe he was, but then he h-hit me and� did s-something else� But then, afterwards, he didn�t-didn�t remember. Any of it. And then he just sent me away� back to Gryffindor Tower, like nothing was d-different.�

Even the portraits on the walls were completely silent.

�M-maybe it was my fault because I looked at some of his memories, but I didn�t mean to do it, I really didn�t. I was just tired and he was making me so angry, but it was an accident and I --� he was babbling now, and was almost glad when McGonagall interrupted him. Almost.

�Mr. Potter,� she began shakily, face white, �What exactly did Professor Snape do after he struck you?�

Harry looked up at her, eyes pleading. �I-I can�t -- Professor��

�I�m afraid you must.�

Harry leaned forward once more and cradled his head in his hands. The mumbled words were to quiet to be heard.

�A little more volume, Mr. Potter, if you will.�

Harry gasped quietly, the tears of mortification coming swiftly now.

He lifted his head slowly and stared down towards the floor, not seeing anything. He was floating again.

�He�� it was nothing more than a whisper, but spoken clearly, �He hurt me. R-raped me.� He couldn�t believe those words had just come out of his mouth, didn�t look up to see his Professor�s reactions. Just sat silently and waited, deaf and blind to the world around him.
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Gone to Madness