I'm in a pickle now that I've discovered that LJ can't handle posts over a certain size. Either I do large chapters in chunks like I did 43 or I break them up which means more chapters. For now I've decided to break them up into multiple chapters so the number of chapters I have written has just expanded dramatically. I know some of you are probably dancing with delight because you want this thing to never end, but I was hoping to stick to my goal of 60 chapters ><

There is the possibility of going back and cutting down some of the earlier chapters in order to have more chapters available for later on. I know I really struggled at moving the plot forward in those earlier chapters and I don't think I can cut down much on this later stuff.

Anyway, here's 44





Harry was flying. He flew up and up and up, until he found himself perched in the arc of heaven, gazing down at the round face of earth. He cast a spell and then, holding his breath, burst out of the stratosphere, pressing on upwards until he slipped into the vast vacuum of space. He sat on his broom and gazed in wonder at the endless stars. He saw galaxies -- iridescent smudges of stars, and the Milky Way -- a spider-web of white stretched across the sky. The planets, points of vibrant colours, wandered amongst the slow procession of stars. Mars shone a dull red contrasting with the brilliant blue of Neptune. Uranus looked like a robin's egg, while Venus glowed a yellowish red. Stripes of wheat, dirt brown, milky white, and brick red overlaid Jupiter, and he flew closer to get a better look at the swirl of colours. Out here in space, he could see the massive size of the ever-raging storm and he knew that, just as it had existed centuries before he was born, it would continue to thunder long after he was gone. He had never felt as insignificant as he did now, but the knowledge of his relative unimportance was an oddly comforting thought.

Harry gripped his broom tightly and dived back to earth, flying as hard and as fast as he could. He swooped through the gardens and zoomed in through an open window.

"I'm home!" Harry yelled as he jumped off his broom and sent it out to the shed.

"Only you would feel the need to make such a flagrant display," Snape intoned disapprovingly from the doorway.

Harry grinned at him. "I tried out the spell you taught me. I did it. I went into space."

"I'm amazed you didn't kill yourself." Snape crossed the room and examined Harry, his hands flying over Harry's body as his magic pushed inside.

"I know better than that," Harry assured him.

Ginny stormed into the room. "You won't believe what your house-elf did!" She crossed her arms and glared at Harry as if the matter were entirely his fault.

Snape adopted an equally displeased expression. "Yes, Potter, you really need to put a stop to this nonsense with your house-elf."

"Kreacher?" asked Harry, confused.

Kreacher Apparated with a loud 'pop.' "Yes, Master Harry?"

Ginny explained, "No, Dobby," with an impatient wave of her hand.

"Our spare bedroom is now a sock factory," Snape informed Harry with a look of utter loathing on his face.

"I tried to stop him, Master Harry," Kreacher added, an eager look to his thin face. "But he wouldn't listen."

"Thank you, Kreacher. I will deal with him." Harry strode towards the spare bedroom, Snape and Ginny following close behind. When Harry opened the door, he discovered that the rather modest bedroom had been transformed into a huge factory. Conveyor belts full of socks stretched every which way, spanning from ceiling to floor.

"Call the house-elf," Snape ordered.

"Dobby!" Harry yelled into the mess of machinery.

"Master Harry!" Dobby appeared in front of Harry. "Dobby makes sure Master Harry is never without socks!"

"Dobby, I appreciate the effort-"

Snape gave a loud snort of disgust.

Harry ignored him and continued, "However, we can purchase all the socks we need at the stores."

"Harry Potter has a new family member with no socks!"

"Kreacher?" Harry asked in confusion.

Kreacher Apparated in. "Yes, Master Harry?"

"A new one, Master Harry!" Dobby proudly pointed at Ginny's abdomen.

Ginny gasped in surprise and clutched her belly.

"Congratulations, Potter. I didn't know you had it in you," Snape intoned, his voice dry.

"Of course you knew he had it in him," Ginny responded with a smirk. "Unless you are admitting that you are quite sub par as a lover."

Snape drew himself up to his full height. "I assure you, in my bed-"

"Okay, okay, we get the point," Harry interrupted, his face flaming. "Dobby, we appreciate the effort-"

Ginny gave a snort of disgust.

Harry ignored her and continued, "However, we feel the spare bedroom should be a nursery, not a sock factory."

Dobby snapped his fingers and the room turned into a nursery filled with toys.

"It's perfect," breathed Ginny as she gazed around the cheerfully painted walls with wide eyes.

Snape nodded his approval. "Much better."

"Thanks, Dobby. It's just what we need."

"Anything for Master Harry!" Dobby insisted with a wide grin before he pranced away to play with a large stuffed lion.

"Show-off," grumbled Kreacher.

Harry woke and slid out of bed. He sleepily stumbled over to the loo, yawning as he scratched himself. He finished his business and then stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. He was drying them on his towel when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He quickly dropped to his knees and jerked his head to the bars to see Snape stationed there with his wand out. Snape flicked his wand at Harry again and Harry rolled out of the way of the second invisible spell, regaining his footing by the third spell.

“You won’t hit me.”

“You underestimate me.” Snape flicked his wand rapidly and Harry scrambled onto his bed to avoid being hit by the volley of invisible spells. Snape stepped into the cell and launched an assault of red spells towards the bed. Harry rolled off of it onto the floor and jumped to his feet. He was dashing towards the table to use it for a shield when he ran into something invisible that caught his left foot. It felt like a sticky strand of string, and he couldn't pull his foot away no matter how hard he tugged.

“What the-?” He whirled around to face Snape just in time to avoid a spell. His attempt to dodge ended abruptly when his right upper arm smacked into another sticky strand which held his arm in place. “What is this stuff?”

“It is the wizarding equivalent of a spider web.” Snape grinned as he advanced. “Let’s see how well you dodge now.” He shot off another round and Harry weaved as he dodged. The web was fairly flexible, allowing him to move his trapped parts a few centimetres in any direction. That was enough, until he pulled back to dodge a spell and stuck his back against a strand that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“You’re such a cheating bastard,” Harry complained as he helplessly watched the next spell hit him in the chest. A warm heat spread throughout his body, radiating from his chest outward. “What was that?”

“A simple warming spell.” Snape stopped less than an arm’s span away from Harry. “You cannot see the strands?”

“I’m almost blind!”

Snape stepped closer, the hem of his robes brushing against Harry’s right leg. He pointed his wand at Harry’s trapped arm and Harry felt more of the strands wrap around his captive limb.

“Are you able to see it now?”

Harry squinted at his arm and finally noticed the faint, silvery, rope-like substance that covered it. “Now I can see it.”

“You need a shave.” Snape ran a finger along Harry’s jaw.

Harry turned to look at him. Snape’s black eyes were focused on Harry’s chin, a scrutinizing expression on his face. “Give me a razor then,” suggested Harry.

Snape's eyes never left Harry's jaw as he slid his left hand up Harry’s right shoulder and the side of his neck, his fingers curling in Harry’s shaggy hair. He placed his thumb underneath Harry’s jaw and pushed up, forcing Harry to tilt his head back and expose his throat. Harry felt the tip of Snape’s wand press against his left jaw in front of his ear and the shaving spell raced across his jaw and neck. After the tingling had faded, Snape stepped away from him, tucking his wand back in his robes.

“I’m not eating breakfast like this,” Harry insisted.

Snape waved his hand and Harry was released from the webs. Harry squinted at the floor, looking for more strands as he made his way to the table. He was almost in his chair when he thought he spotted one running parallel to his chair. He leaned over, grabbed his chair, and yanked it over to push one of the legs against it. When he tried to pull the chair away, the leg remained frozen in place, caught on a strand.

“I knew you’d leave one, you arsehole!”

The thread vanished and Snape strode over to the table. “Don’t exhaust all of your mental processes before breakfast.” He tapped the table twice with his wand. “I’d prefer a hint of a challenge in the practice room.”

“A hint? Don’t flatter yourself.” Harry bit into his toast. “I’m going to kick your arse.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Snape reprimanded him. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea. After he had watched Harry eat for a bit, he asked, “Have you given up on the book yet?”

“No,” Harry answered after he finished drinking his orange juice. “But it has Latin and I don’t know Latin.”

“What a shame.” Snape didn’t look displeased at all.

“That part about the wax wings that melt… that’s a reference to Icarus, isn’t it?” Harry asked as he started on his sausages.

“Yes, it is,” Snape confirmed. “There are many mythological references in the work.”

“Oh.” Guilt fell over Harry as he remembered how he had destroyed Snape’s book on mythology. Yes, Snape had finished the job, but he had done most of the damage. He finished off the rest of his breakfast in silence and Snape did not attempt to start a conversation again.

“What will we be doing today?” Harry asked as he put toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“Your favourite exercise for the first half of the day,” Snape informed him. “The Dark Lord will be arriving tonight and I suspect he may wish to have another gathering.”

“Can I stay in my cell?” Harry requested. The last thing he wanted to do was sit through another dinner.

“’May,’” corrected Snape. “It won’t be as lengthy as the last, but I won’t present you to them unless it is requested.”

That was the best Snape could do and Harry knew it. He finished his morning routine and followed Snape out of the cell.

“Who d’you think it will be tonight?”

“Bellatrix has been outdoing herself in her attempts to get back into the Dark Lord’s favour. She was most displeased the Dark Lord chose Lucius rather than her to test you and that I have been granted his favour more than she.”

“Why does she try so hard?”

“She’s in love with him, and she has fooled herself into believing that his favour is equivalent to his love,” Snape explained, his voice rife with scorn.

“He doesn’t love,” Harry scoffed.

“Exactly.” Snape nodded. “She is blinded by her love. It makes her stupid.”

“You are very dismissive of love,” Harry observed as he stretched on the floor of the practice room while watching Snape rearrange the furniture. “Professor Dumbledore said that it is my capability to love that will help me in the final battle.”

Snape spelled the fake Death Eaters to move around the room and shoot spells at Harry. “I’m sure he claimed many things.”

Harry rolled out of the way and got to his feet, quickly dodging as the balls joined in on the attack. “How much of what Rita Skeeter said about him was true?”

“Considering that she recently published a column alleging that he trained you to be my slave, I wouldn’t put much stock in her words.” Snape tried to confuse Harry with a feint, but Harry caught on to him and rolled out of the way just in time to watch the spell strike a Death Eater. “However-”

“Wait a minute,” Harry interrupted. “She’s claiming that he set this up?”

“Yes,” Snape confirmed as he removed the chair Harry had ducked behind. “She claimed that he had remained loyal to Grindelwald, and was only biding his time until he had amassed enough power and influence to stage a takeover. Apparently, I have been training you into submission and slavery since you arrived at Hogwarts.”

“But you killed Dumbledore! Why would you do that if you were loyal to him?” Harry watched with satisfaction as another fake Death Eater was hit by a spell.

Snape sent away a cabinet Harry had used to shield himself. “She claims I betrayed him to gain the Dark Lord’s favour.”

Harry sneaked up behind a fake Death Eater and punched through its centre, causing it to crumble to the floor. “No one will believe that.”

“You cannot kill Death Eaters with punches.”

“I punched him really, really hard,” Harry smirked, but he stepped away and returned to trying to get Snape’s spells to strike them.

“People believe what they wish to believe.” Snape’s spells were placed more carefully now that there were only three Death Eaters left and Harry had trouble getting them to go where he wanted them. “There was a infamous Muggle politician who claimed that people will more easily believe a massive lie compared to a small one, since they themselves will often lie in small ways, but rarely utter exorbitant falsehoods.* I am inclined to agree with him, particularly after seeing how many people believed the Dark Lord had not been resurrected.”

“Everyone believes that I really am a loyal slave to Voldemort?” In his distraction, Harry was almost hit by Snape’s spell.

“Concentrate,” Snape reminded him. “Not everyone believes it. Do not let it trouble you; you are not required to convince the public of your intentions.”

“But if my friends-”

“I should hope your friends aren’t all as stupid as you, but maybe it is to be expected. After all-”

“Okay, I get the point,” Harry broke in, grabbing a ball and lobbing it at Snape.

Snape returned the ball at twice the speed and Harry dived out of the way. “And you accuse me of cheating.”

“I’m returning the favour!” Harry dashed over to one of the fake Death Eaters and grabbed balls from his ‘body,’ ignoring the battery of balls that slammed into his side.

“No, you don’t.” Snape flicked his wand, and all the fake Death Eaters and the balls disappeared.

“Oi!” protested Harry, running over to hide behind a couch while Snape cast so many spells the room lit up like it was filled with fireworks. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“Magic. You may have heard of it.”

Harry grabbed one of the throw pillows and tossed it at Snape as hard as he could. Snape returned it and Harry grabbed it out of the air. He had a sudden flash of inspiration and jumped over the edge of the couch and charged Snape, using the pillow as a shield. Snape backed away, casting as he retreated. Harry ran smack into an invisible barrier.

“C’mon, give me a fair fight,” Harry whinged, dropping his pillow and feeling for the edges of the shield.

“Very well.” Snape gazed at him with an expression of amusement. He cleared the room of furniture. “Step back.”

Harry walked backwards a few steps and watched as Snape drew a black line across the floor with his wand.

“You may not step across this line.” He returned the balls to Harry’s corners of the room.

“And you can’t use the barrier spell or the web spell…” Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Snape when he didn’t object. “You can only aim at me.”

Snape smirked.

“No wait!” Harry realised his mistake. “You are only allowed to cast one spell at me since I only have one form of weapon. And the spell will be-”

“Immobulus,” Snape suggested, and Harry nodded his agreement. He backed away slowly, keeping his eyes on Snape as he inched towards the balls. Snape watched him with an amused expression on his face.

Harry crouched down and picked up four balls, cradling three in his left arm and keeping the fourth in his hand. He strode back over to Snape, who was still in the same position, his wand out and ready.

Harry launched his attack and Snape responded, reflecting the balls back towards Harry while he shot spells. Harry grabbed the balls out of the air and threw them back at Snape, who used a shield charm to deflect them to the sides.

“You cheated!" Harry scowled. "You aren’t allowed to use defensive magic!”

“That was never stated,” Snape retorted as he cast furiously at Harry.

Harry raced back to grab more weaponry, dodging as he ran. “You're only allowed to use Immobulus!”

“Are you amending the rules because you know you won’t win?” Snape challenged as he cast at Harry’s legs.

“I’ll win!” Harry answered. “And when I win you’ll have to….” He realised that forcing Snape to cook his favourite foods was a stupid request, because Snape did that anyway. What should he ask for?

“Have to what?” Snape queried.

Harry thought as he mounted a second offence. What could he ask for that Snape wouldn’t just give? He had the feeling he could get a night in the cupboard, new books, treacle tarts, back massages, etc almost whenever he wanted them. There were many things he wanted that Snape couldn’t give him without endangering them both: free reign of the house, a trip outside, letters from his loved ones, time with Strix, a night with Ginny…. No, he needed to ask for something he could actually get. Something Snape wouldn’t normally give, but could. Maybe a blowjob. He considered it as he dodged Snape’s spells with ease and gathered up new ammo.

Yes, he could trick Snape into giving him blowjobs, but Snape had always given them before sex and never to completion. Snape had never given one and not got to orgasm in return. Harry wouldn’t request for him to swallow it, but he did want one complete blowjob. On the other hand, what if Snape requested the same from him? It wouldn’t be fair to insist on one from Snape but not do the same in return. He had hated it when he was forced to suck off the Death Eater, but Snape wouldn’t treat him like they had. Besides, he had promised Snape that he would give him a blowjob if Snape continued to give them and he had yet to do so.

“The stakes are… a blowjob,” Harry informed Snape. “To completion. You don’t have to swallow, but only one of us gets to come.”

“Fellatio?” echoed Snape, his eyebrows arching.

“Yeah…. Not when we are having sex, but some other time. You have to suck me off and then just leave.”

Snape increased his attacks. “Are you so sure that you will win?”

“Afraid you’re going to lose?” Harry challenged as he launched his counter attacks.

Snape knocked away the balls Harry sent his way with an Immobulus. “I ask the same of you.”

“That’s cheating!” Harry protested, as he ran back to gather up more balls.

“You are not prevented from blocking spells,” Snape pointed out. “Think, Potter.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and prepared an armful of ammo. He waited for Snape to cast, and when the spells raced towards him, he threw the balls at each one in turn. It was difficult to do and he only managed to stop two out of the six, rolling out of the way of the last four.

“It’s much more difficult this way,” Harry protested as he retreated to gather more balls.

“Making excuses already?” Snape smirked and began another attack. “I haven’t won yet.”

“Shut up. I’m going to get you,” Harry warned as he easily dodged Snape’s volleys and retaliated.

“Such hubris!”

“Such what?”

“Arrogance.”

“Why didn’t you just say that then?” Harry asked, annoyed by Snape’s constant need to lecture.

“Because the word connotes more than just simple arrogance,” Snape explained as he launched his next round of attacks. “Hubris implies arrogance accompanied by wilful ignorance or dismissal of warnings. It is often used in reference to individuals who are destroyed because of this combination.”

Harry tried to catch him off-guard while he was lecturing, but Snape merely focused on defence rather than offence. As soon as Snape was finished speaking, he cast a rapid series of spells and Harry had to weave quickly to avoid being hit. He lost track of the balls at his feet and stepped on one. He rolled as he fell to avoid being hit, but was so focused on avoiding Snape’s spells that he forgot to pay attention to the black line and landed with his hand upon it. The line suddenly appeared on top of his hand and when he tried to pull away, he found himself stuck to the line. He was hit by Immobulus and could do nothing but lie there, staring up at the ceiling while cursing his luck. Snape released him from the spell and Harry immediately jumped to his feet. He scurried to the opposite side of the room watching Snape vanish the black line and return the furniture to their original positions.

“When I get my magic back and a wand, we are going to redo every single one of these duels,” Harry insisted as he glared at Snape through narrowed eyes.

Snape wore the smuggest expression Harry had ever seen. “We’ll see about that. I look forward to all my future rewards.”

“I won’t be tripping on spells.”

“You were a fool to ignore them,” Snape pointed out. “Come, they will arrive before long.”

Harry followed him down to the bathroom. “You knew I would, didn’t you?” he asked as he replayed the session in his mind. “You kept using the spell to knock them back instead of dodging, because you wanted them to stay on my side. I was wondering why you did that instead of attacking.”

“I noticed you weren’t paying attention to them as much as you should have,” Snape confirmed. “You often neglect the little details, which are usually the most important aspects.”

“You told me to think of the balls as spells. I can’t trip over spells, I can’t shoot a spell to knock another one out of the air, I can’t-”

“And there is your problem,” Snape explained. “You think too much about what you can’t do, rather than what you can. How do you know you can’t stop a spell by intercepting its path with another?”

Harry turned on the shower. It was true that he did it in the graveyard when he encountered Voldemort, but he had assumed that had only occurred because of the twin cores in their wands. “Because… can you?”

Snape smirked as he took his chair. “As I thought, you’ve never tried. You just assumed. How much of your education have you accepted as fact with no question? The textbooks insist that flying with the use of a spell is impossible, and yet both the Dark Lord and I myself have mastered the art. We live in a world of magic, Potter. Stop thinking about limitations and start thinking about possibilities.”

“Where did you learn to fly?”

“The Dark Lord taught me.”

“Can anyone do it?”

“It requires a sufficient level of concentration and control. In theory, yes. Most wizards simply do not have the control necessary to concentrate their magic. It’s similar to learning how to double-cast.” Snape raised his wand and the muscle potion rose in the air while the bathroom door shut. He returned the potion to the side of the tub. “The mechanics of it are very simple. Instead of concentrating on a single task, you focus on two.”

“Can you double-cast anything if you have enough focus and concentration?” asked Harry as he soaped his legs. “Add an Avada Kedavra to a Stupefy?”

“No, of course not.” Snape shook his head. “As I’ve said before, the Avada Kedavra is a particularly potent spell which requires full concentration and focus to properly perform. Even a Stupefy would be negatively impacted by double-casting. It is best to use it for simple tasks.”

“Did Voldemort teach you how to double-cast, too?”

“No, I taught myself.”

“Did you read about it in a book?”

“No, I tried until I was able.”

“How did you know that you could?” Harry shampooed his hair.

“I didn’t know that I couldn’t.”

“If I learn how to double-cast, could I learn how to fly?”

“Perhaps,” Snape said in a voice that clearly expressed his doubt.

“Why don’t you think so?”

“You may have improved, but you were always rather mediocre at Hogwarts.”

That stung. Harry had never thought himself particularly powerful compared to his classmates. Even Ginny seemed to have much more raw talent than he did. However, he hadn’t thought himself mediocre, and to be called that by a wizard who was anything but really rankled him. Snape hadn’t said it in a tone which suggested he was trying to insult or irritate Harry, but in the smooth self-assured tone he used when predicting which Death Eater would be chosen to torture Harry that night. Harry wanted to be more than mediocre. He wanted Snape to be impressed. As soon as he got his magic back, he’d learn to double-cast and he’d show Snape that he wasn’t an inferior wizard; that he could be powerful if he wanted to be.

Harry stepped out of the shower and dried off with a towel. “Will you teach me how to fly?”

“Perhaps,” Snape answered, in a voice that suggested he didn’t think such a thing were possible. He stepped forward and began to massage the potion into Harry’s shoulders.

Before, Snape had said that they would end their association after Voldemort was defeated. Harry hadn’t expected him to agree to it, but ‘perhaps’ suggested that Snape might be rethinking the idea of avoiding Harry once they both were free. Harry felt confident he could protect Snape from the Ministry. The wizarding world would owe him after he defeated Voldemort. He could use his clout to insist that Snape remain free of imprisonment or punishment. The hard part would be convincing Snape to stay in the United Kingdom and teach him, rather than taking off for some distant location.

“If they gave you your position at Hogwarts back, would you take it again?” Harry finished rubbing the potion into his legs and stood to walk back to his cell.

“No, I hate teaching.”

Harry stared at him.

Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry in an expression of incredulity. “You thought I enjoyed trying to instruct those incompetent dunderheads?” He swept past Harry and walked back to Harry’s cell.

Harry followed after him. “But earlier you said that when Voldemort is destroyed you’d return to teaching. Why did you say that if you hate teaching so much?”

“I think you should use your limited mental prowess for more productive purposes than trying to remember everything I say.” Snape strode over to the table and procured lunch for Harry.

“Quit trying to distract me. If you hate teaching, then why did you say you would return to it?”

"While I would never choose to work at another location equivalent to Hogwarts," Snape explained as he tucked his wand back in his robe, "there are few positions in the wizarding world that allow one to properly conduct research. All formal research must be approved by the Ministry of Magic or the local equivalent thereof, and often one is forced to research what the Ministry believes to be necessary. Due to the extreme influence and power of our Ministry, most other countries follow similar guidelines. The few countries that give their research departments more leeway are woefully underdeveloped. Outside of the Ministry, I would have to pick a profession which would grant me access to normally restricted ingredients. I would be forced to work in a hospital, teach, or own an apothecary.
"Unlike the Muggles, who conduct a lot of medical research in laboratories, Healers all work directly with patients and I detest hospitals." He shook his head. "I also doubt there are many individuals who would allow me to give them basic care, much less try out experimental new treatments. Dumbledore's reputation was forever tarnished by his insistence on hiring me to teach children and he had more clout than you."


"I'm going to defeat Voldemort!" Harry interjected. "What more could they want?"


"Absolute proof that I haven't brainwashed you. There will always be those who suspect me. Of course, there will also be individuals who would regard my reputation as a boon. They would seek me out because of my association with the Dark Lord and assume that I must be fairly powerful and clever to have remained high in his esteem for so long. I may be able to find work at an extremely selective school, through private tutoring, or apprenticeships. I would have to deal with students," he said the word as if it were a curse, "but they should be of a higher calibre, I'd be selective about those I chose to teach, and when it comes to choosing between students and customers, I prefer students for reasons that should be obvious to you."


"You can't bully your customers," Harry acknowledged as he dug into his beef stew.


"Exactly." Snape stepped back out through the bars. "Don't get caught reading."


"I won't," Harry assured him with a wave of his hand. Snape walked off, disappearing through the library door.


Harry finished his stew and stretched out on his bed with his head towards the door. He read Faustus as he waited for Snape to return to fetch him for torture.





[[*Hilter, Mein Kampf

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Chapter 1 ...43a/43b 44 45 46 47