Harry threw up. Snape conjured a bowl for him and held him upright in his bed as he puked.

“It wasn’t her. She didn’t die. Polyjuice,” Snape kept repeating as Harry puked and puked even though there was nothing left in his stomach. Snape held him tightly with one hand and removed a vial from his robe. “You must try to keep this painkiller down or else the Dark Lord will be very angry with me.” He pressed the vial to Harry’s lips and poured a rather large amount of the potion down his throat before clamping his hand firmly over Harry's mouth. Harry threw the potion back up, but Snape refused to move his hand and Harry was forced to swallow it back down. He tried to breathe but he choked instead and Snape finally released him as he coughed and sputtered and gasped. Snape sent away the bowl after Harry’s dry heaves finally subsided.

He couldn’t stop shaking. His body felt hot and cold at the same time as it had when Malfoy had tortured him. The pain in his chest was fading but it was still hard for him to breathe. Snape held him up and procured another potion from his robes.

Harry shook his head, unable to find his voice. No more potions. He didn’t trust Snape.

“You need to calm,” Snape insisted. “You don’t want the Dark Lord’s attention now.” He held Harry in place and forced his jaw open. Harry tried to pull away from him but he was too weak to struggle. Snape firmly held him still and used magic to tilt the vial, spilling potion down Harry’s throat. Snape released his jaw and then carefully laid him down on the bed.

“Shall I take the memory away from you again?” Snape asked, placing his fingers on Harry’s pulse.

“She’s dead,” Harry croaked out, grabbing the front of Snape’s robes.

Snape frowned at him. “No, I told you. It wasn’t Miss Granger. They used-”

“She’s dead.” It was all he could see. Hermione on the floor of the throne room with her eyes clouding over. Hermione trying to speak to him as the Avada Kedavra sunk into her chest. Hermione sobbing while they ordered him to kill her.

“LISTEN TO ME!” Snape pinned him against the bed. “HERMIONE IS ALIVE! IT WASN’T HER!”

Harry yelled, “SHE WAS SOMEONE!” He gasped for air and then choked out, “she was someone who died…died because of me. So many people… died… because of me.” He wanted to die. He wanted to kill. He wanted to see Hermione.

“No. No.” Snape released him. “You aren’t responsible for anyone but yourself.”

“She died….” The tears poured down his cheeks and he was helpless to stop them. He released Snape and curled in on himself. He cried and cried as he never had before and it seemed as if his grief was drawn from an endless well and he’d never be able to stop sobbing.

“You didn’t kill her,” Snape assured him emphatically, his fingers curling around Harry’s upper arm as he pushed him onto his back again. His dark eyes fixed on Harry’s and his face was full of concern. “Listen to me. You didn’t kill her. Lucius did.”

“He killed her because of me.”

“He killed her because he enjoys raping and killing women. You had nothing to do with that.” Snape released Harry's upper arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“She never should have died,” Harry whispered, not sure if it was an accusation or a plea.

Snape sat up and looked down at Harry. “No. But whose fault is that? Who killed your parents? Who killed Sirius? Who killed Dumbledore? You may blame it all on yourself or on me, but it was the Dark Lord who ultimately brought about their deaths.” He gripped Harry’s right hand tightly. “The Dark Lord is responsible.”

“Voldemort…” He hated him. He wanted him to die. He wanted to tear him to shreds with his bare hands. He wanted to-

“You will kill him,” Snape firmly asserted, his eyes lighting up.

“I will kill him.” Harry propelled himself upright.

“Yes. Yes, you will.” Snape’s eyes were fiery and his grip tight.

“I’M GOING TO DESTROY HIM!” Harry yelled, his anger bursting through the crust of the calming potion, hot as freshly erupted lava. It consumed him and for a moment, he could do nothing but burn in the force of his rage.

Snape’s fingers and face softened and he stroked the back of Harry’s hand lightly. “But not yet,” he said softly. “Not until we find the Horcruxes. Then you will destroy him. But not now. Later.”

“Hermione…” Harry closed his eyes and collapsed back against the bed, the hate draining from him. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“You can,” Snape insisted.

He opened his eyes and curled his fingers around Snape’s wrist. “Please, let me go,” he beseeched Snape desperately. “I’ll come back. I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll kill him. I can’t stay here … I’ll die.”

Snape slowly shook his head. “You know that isn’t possible. I’ll die if I set you free. Here I can train you and keep you alive. You are strong, you will get through this. I know you have the strength to do this.”

“I can’t do it if they are going to….” He covered his face with his hands. “If it was her… If it really was her-”

Snape grabbed his shoulders. “Stop that. Listen, I won’t let them. I know it wasn’t her, because I would’ve known if they had captured her-”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? Why did you let me believe it?” Harry demanded, removing his hands and glaring up at him.

“There was no way I could communicate it to you. As I said before, I had no idea what Lucius was planning to do. I was as shocked to see her face as you were. Where they got the hairs, I don’t know, but-”

“Who?” Harry gripped his robes tightly. “Who was it?”

Snape stared at him. “A Death Eater,” he finally said. “She was to die anyway, so don’t let it trouble you.”

“A Death Eater…” His head was spinning. “No, no, I need to know. Prove it! Prove it wasn’t Hermione!”

“How can I do that?” Snape asked gently, releasing Harry. “I am stuck here, the same as you. I cannot leave you right now. They’d hurt you.”

“You will think of something,” Harry insisted. “You brought me the owl. I need to know it wasn’t her.”

Snape remained quiet for a while. “I will try to think of a way. But do you see now why I took the memory from you?”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Harry glared at him. “What other memories have you taken? I want them all back.”

Snape turned his face away. “Part of your capture.”

“Give it back!”

Snape shook his head. “Not yet. Your mind sealed it away originally. Remember how I had to feed you the potions to make you remember? That particular memory was too painful and you wouldn’t stop screaming so I sealed it again. It was of Lucius torturing you. Do you really want to remember more of that right now? You haven’t eaten yet today.”

“I need to know when I was captured. Why I was captured. How I was captured. I need to know,” Harry pleaded.

“I can tell you when but not the other two. Two months ago, I was called to the Malfoy estate with news that you had been apprehended. When I arrived, they had already been torturing you for some time. I stepped in and convinced the Dark Lord to keep you alive and he-”

“Why?” Harry interrupted.

Snape looked surprised. “If you die then the Dark Lord won’t. Do you think I am lying when I say I want him destroyed?”

“Sometimes,” Harry admitted.

The left corner of Snape’s mouth quirked up. “You are impossible.” He paused and then added, “I thought you would give us away in the throne room.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I was going for the knife. I was going to cut off my hand so I could have my magic back.”

Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “You would’ve been stopped before that could have happened.”

“Of course,” Harry acknowledged bitterly. “I can’t do anything but what you want me to do.”

Snape scoffed. “If that were true, my life would be a lot easier.”

“How can you stand there and watch them torture me?”

“I do it because I must.” Snape suddenly stood. “Someone is here. Stay quiet.” He pried Harry’s fingers off his robe before striding off quickly, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry lay back against the sheets and tried to collect his wits. The calming potion had muted his feelings but they were so strong he felt as if they would bubble up to the surface again any minute. The memory had been so horrible but he hadn’t wished it away. Snape had taken it on his own and then tried to convince Harry that Harry had asked him to take it. Harry no longer suspected him of taking the memory to hide some sin he had committed, but he still couldn’t forgive him for what he had done. He should’ve asked first. He should’ve given him the choice.

Oh god, he wanted to see Hermione. He needed to know she was still alive. He just couldn’t trust Snape right now and he needed proof. He needed something to assure him that he hadn’t watched one of his best friends die. The fact that Ron hadn’t been with her and they hadn’t made any comments about Weasleys gave him hope. Ron had to have been with Hermione during their hunt for the Horcruxes and if she had been captured, he would’ve been too. He wouldn’t have left her a second time. That knowledge made him lean towards trusting Snape when he claimed that Hermione was still alive and safe, but he wanted something more.

His mouth was dry and tasted terrible so he slid out of bed and shakily made his way over to the sink to brush his teeth. He didn’t hurt anywhere; the painkiller had been quite effective, but all of his senses seemed muted and he had trouble moving. When he returned to bed, he dressed. He hadn’t worn clothes for some time, but he felt the need to be covered up now. His stomach turned as he thought of how he would have to have sex with Snape sometime soon. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the Death Eater now.

As if on cue, Snape stepped back through the library door. He strode into the room and tapped the table with his wand. A tray with porridge appeared and he floated it over to Harry. Harry didn’t really feel like eating, but he knew he should. He carefully added the sides to the porridge, ignoring Snape.

“Let me know if you feel any pain,” Snape said.

“I don’t,” Harry answered him, looking at his bowl.

“Potter….” Snape took Harry’s chair and pulled it to the side of the bed. He sat in it and leaned forward. “I need you to tell me all you know about the final Horcrux.”

Harry glanced at him, his spoon frozen on its way to his mouth. “I don’t know anything really, just guesses. Didn’t Dumbledore tell you anything?”

“He didn’t trust me,” answered Snape, looking very displeased. “Why do you think it is at Hogwarts?”

Harry was surprised Snape admitted that Dumbledore hadn’t trusted him. “Before I was captured, I could see what Voldemort saw. He’s Occluding against me now. He doesn’t want me to see what he is doing. I don’t know why he would need to do that now.”

“He probably fears you will inform me or any other guard of his actions,” Snape mused. “He’s always been secretive, even with his most favoured. Are you sure that he is completely Occluding?”

“My scar doesn’t hurt even when he casts on me.” Harry rubbed the mark on his forehead absently. “I don’t feel his emotions either. I used to know when he was happy as well as when he was angry. I could step inside his mind whenever I wanted.”

“Did this connection work both ways?” Snape asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“If he uses the same method to know when you are in pain, then he should also know when you are pleased. There would be no need for him to use Legilimency,” Snape pointed out.

“He doesn’t know when I am happy,” Harry said with certainty.

“What makes you so sure?” Snape looked at him doubtfully.

“Because I’ve been happy in front of him and he didn’t know.” Harry pushed away the empty breakfast tray.

Snape left his chair, walking over to send the tray away with a tap of his wand. “As I’ve suspected, it must be the manacles.”

“What about them?” Harry looked down at his forearms.

“He wears a matching set. That is how he has been able to bind your magic so securely. I do not know the exact mechanism by which they work, but I suspect that-”

“He has my magic?” Harry felt sick.

“No, of course not. You can’t take another wizard’s magic and use it for your own-”

“I don’t think most wizards have the same connection we do,” Harry pointed out.

Snape looked at Harry sharply for a moment, then he shook his head. “Even so, that is highly unlikely, based upon what I understand about magical theory-”

“Theory,” Harry emphasised. “You don’t know, do you?”

Snape looked very displeased. “It is highly unlikely. If he could do such a thing, which I doubt, then he would probably be required to remain in close contact with you as magic decreases in intensity the farther one is from the source. Furthermore, he has not demonstrated any increase in power since your capture and the Dark Lord has always found pleasure in displaying the strength of his magic.” Snape shook his head firmly. “No, he is merely preventing you from accessing yours. I believe that he spelled the manacles to alert him when you are in pain or have been physically harmed. He wouldn’t have been concerned about monitoring your happiness, as I doubt he could conceive you could be happy in a place like this.”

Harry had trouble believing it himself, but he had to admit he had felt happy at times. He had enjoyed it when Snape had pretended to care for him. He wanted Snape to stop, because he knew it was fake and that the Death Eater was just using him. But… there was a part of him that wanted Snape to continue. He remembered when he had seen Snape in the throne room after the episode with Avery and how the happiness he had felt then had filled him completely.

“But how is this connected to the Horcrux?” Snape asked as he sat back down.

“I have this connection to Voldemort. Not just the one where I could see what he saw. But… we are both alike. Half-blood orphans who found a home in Hogwarts when no one else would accept us…. I know how he felt at Hogwarts. It’s how I felt…. I think he would’ve hidden a part of himself there.” Harry realised how stupid it all sounded, so he quickly added, “Plus, when he tried to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, Dumbledore thinks he really came back to hide his Horcrux somewhere in Hogwarts.”

Snape stroked his mouth with his finger for a bit before he asked, “And you have no idea where it would be hidden at Hogwarts?”

Harry shook his head. “The locket was originally in a cave before Sirius’s brother stole it. The ring was in Voldemort’s ancestors’ home. The diary was given to Malfoy to safeguard. The cup was in the vault. I don’t think it would be anywhere out in the open…. It would be somewhere special.”

“And you believe it belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw?” Snape narrowed his eyes.

“Most likely.” Harry nodded. “He had something of Hufflepuff, he had something of Slytherin, so he probably had something of Ravenclaw. Or Gryffindor.”

“I have an idea but I do not want to be hasty. I will look through my books,” Snape said as he stood. Harry thought of Hermione, and a pang went through his heart.

Snape strode out of the cell. “Let me know when you are ready to train.”

Harry lay back down and stared at the ceiling. He knew he should begin training again, but he just wanted to rest. The events in the throne room had left him more exhausted than any physical exercise. He had passed but what did that mean? Would they take him out and put him on display? He was glad Voldemort wasn’t planning on making him a Death Eater. He knew he could never even pretend to be one if murder was required. He was too tired to think. Closing his eyes, he fell into a restless sleep.

~

Snape woke him when he stepped through the library door. He walked into the cell, carrying a book, and spelled dinner on the table.

“The only artefact of Rowena Ravenclaw’s that I have been able to find a reference to is the lost diadem,” Snape informed him. He opened the book in his hands and set it beside the food. “It supposedly confers wisdom to whoever wears it.”

Harry slid off of the bed and stepped over to the table. He sat in his seat and looked at the book, examining the drawing of the diadem. “Luna’s father was trying to build one like it. If Voldemort found it I’m sure he made it into a Horcrux.”

“He wouldn’t wear it,” Snape said dryly and Harry smiled in spite of himself.

Snape closed the book and picked it up. He stepped away to leave the cell and then paused. “Will you need another book soon?”

“No, I’m still reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” Harry answered, looking over his meal. There were more treacle tarts! This time with vanilla ice cream! Harry grabbed the plate they were on and yanked them towards himself. He tucked in immediately, completely losing track of everything but how amazing they tasted. It may have been just because he had not had them in so long, but he thought that Snape’s treacle tarts were the most amazing he had ever tasted. Their crusts were soft and flaky and their insides gooey and warm. The sugary syrup that filled them dripped down his fingers as he ate. He was so absorbed in their taste; he barely noticed Snape leaving as he savoured each bite as slowly as he dared.

He was still eating them when Snape returned and took his seat at the table. Harry ignored him and finished off the last bite slowly, tipping the plate towards his mouth to catch all the ice cream. He did not care if he looked stupid. Once he had finished his dessert, he felt hungry and immediately attacked his pork chops.

Snape summoned tea for himself and drank. “There is another meeting this evening.”

Harry stopped eating. He didn’t think he could bear to be tortured right now. Snape saw his face and waved his hand dismissively. “You won’t be involved. I told them that Lucius’s spell had hurt your back and you needed to rest. I will bandage your chest after you finish dinner and give you a potion to make sleep easier for you. It is highly unlikely that the Dark Lord will insist on waking you.”

Harry relaxed and returned to his meal, watching Snape as he ate.

“Likewise, I will tell the Dark Lord that I was reluctant to perform with you for the same reason,” Snape continued.

“Won’t they be suspicious since I am taking so long to heal?” Harry asked.

“They do not know how effective my new potions are,” Snape answered smugly. “I would like to keep it that way.” He set down his cup. “As I said earlier, the Dark Lord’s attempts to assure the public of your capture have been relatively unsuccessful. Many of his followers have requested that he bring you before the public to silence the doubters. After your display last night, many feel that now would be the best time to provide tangible proof. I do not know if the Dark Lord agrees with them, he has not announced his intentions. However, I believe he will reveal some sort of concrete evidence for his possession of you to the wizarding world soon.”

He paused before continuing, “I theorise two outcomes are likely tonight, if the Dark Lord decides to give the world proof of your capture. The first is that you will be removed from this place to be displayed before the public. I find this scenario the more unlikely of the two as the Order will move to rescue you the moment you are revealed. I believe he is far too paranoid to realistically consider that option and risk losing you, his most prized possession.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at that, but did not interject.

Snape continued, “The second, which I am fairly confident he will choose, would be to select a few representatives of the Ministry and the media to relay the announcement to the wizarding world for him. Either they will be invited here or you will be taken to another well-guarded location. Put escape from your mind … that will not be possible now.”

That was easier said than done. Harry did not voice his concerns out loud but focused on his green beans.

“You may disagree with me, but I think it is important that you remain here for now. The Dark Lord has been lulled into a sense of complacency. Although the Order is still resisting, his control over the wizarding world increases daily and he has been concerned more with legislative matters than the resistance. If you were to escape, his attention would focus on the Order and your other allies once more. I feel that your friends will be safest if you are to remain here.”

Harry wasn’t sure about that.

Snape sent away his cup. “I intend to propose a way for the Dark Lord to demonstrate his mastery over you to these representatives. I will suggest that he give you Veritaserum and allow them to interview you. If this plan is agreed to, then I will instruct you on how to lie while under Veritaserum.”

“Lie under Veritaserum?” Harry frowned. “But won’t Voldemort know that you can lie?”

“Of course, but he’d never suspect you,” Snape pointed out. “I will try to have myself positioned near you during your interview to ensure they ask the right sort of questions. It will be difficult and I will have to train you exclusively on that until the interview is conducted, but I am of the opinion that you would be able to do it if you were sufficiently prepared and determined.” His dark eyes remained fixed on Harry’s, obviously seeking his agreement.

Harry nodded. “I can do it.” He wasn’t weak. He would prove to Snape that he was strong. “But what if they don’t like your plan?”

“Then we will develop new ones.” He stood. “They should arrive shortly. Remove your shirt and stand before me.”

Harry didn’t want to be touched by Snape, but he also didn’t want to be brought before Voldemort, so he reluctantly stood and padded over to Snape. He stood in front of Snape, who removed a roll of bandages from his robes and began to wrap Harry’s chest. His hands moved quickly, his long fingers fluttering as if they felt Harry’s revulsion for them and were reluctant to linger. When Snape was finished, he sealed the bandages and removed a vial from his robes.

“Dreamless Sleep Potion mixed with relaxant.” He explained as he opened it and handed it to Harry. “Drink it all.”

Harry took it from him without touching his fingers and tipped it down his throat. He handed it back to Snape who watched silently as Harry turned and crossed over to his bed. He slid under the covers and glanced at Snape who cleared the table of dishes.

“I will inform you what has been decided on in the morning,” Snape told him. “Try to rest as much as you can.”

Harry closed his eyes and curled up under the sheets. The calming potion and the relaxant made him feel incredibly sleepy. He tried to reach for his anger but he couldn’t bring it up to the surface anymore. He wanted to sleep and somehow erase everything horrible that had happened. He wanted to wake and find himself in Hogwarts with Ron snoring in the next bed over, and Hermione and Ginny in the girl’s dorm. He wanted Snape to return and apologise for taking the memory. He wanted to stop feeling so alone and helpless. It was too much to wish for and he settled for the bliss of dreamless sleep.

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