Kayla's Journal (kibatsu) wrote,
Kayla's Journal

Nights of Gethsemane by StarCrossed (3/65)

This took me forever to do the proper html! I still don't like '~' breaks but I haven't figured out a better way to divide the sections.


Someone slapped Harry across the face. Harry gasped and attempted to open his eyes as he was yanked to his feet by his hair. He tried to stand, but his limbs were still caught up in the sleeping potion and he stumbled. The grip in his hair remained firm and he was pushed several steps before being thrown on the floor. He managed to open his eyes but could only see a grey blur. The rough hands grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet again. He blinked, trying to make out the features of the person manhandling him, but all he could tell was that they were dressed mostly in black with a pale face. The touch of the hands and the shape of the person were very different than Snape, but he couldn't think of who else it could be. His arms were hoisted above his head and Harry heard the clank of chains. When the person in black stepped away, Harry felt with his hands and discovered a thick chain leading up to the ceiling to which his manacles were now attached. A cool breeze blew across his skin and Harry became very aware of the fact that he was naked.

"May I play with your new toy, my Lord?" Bellatrix's voice rang out with a fawning admiration.

"Later, you had your fun last time," said Voldemort, his voice sending daggers of steel into Harry's heart. Oh god, Snape had turned him over. Snape had told Voldemort about Hermione and Ron. Snape had killed Dumbledore, the only person who could have saved him. Harry pushed aside those thoughts and tried to calm himself down. He was still alive and that meant Voldemort wanted something from him. If he could hold out, he'd stay alive. Harry blinked his eyes rapidly to try to regain his vision. He could make out three dark blurs with white faces. The one he assumed was Voldemort was sitting in a chair with a dark blur on either side.

"Severus." Voldemort nodded his head towards Harry. Harry heard a rustle of cloth behind him, a sharp noise, and then suddenly a line of fire shot across his back as an impact rocked him as far forward as the chains would allow. He gasped in surprise and tightened his fingers around the chain to hold himself upright. Another crack – it must be a whip - and a second line of fire burst across his back. Determined not to cry out in front of Voldemort, Harry bit his lip. Snape whipped him steadily, each lash rocking him forward. Harry gave up trying to hold himself upright and sagged against his chains. He managed not to scream, even when his legs were soaked in blood and each lash crossed countless open wounds.

Finally, the whip dropped to the floor and the only sound in the room was Harry's ragged breaths. Voldemort stepped down from his throne and crossed to Harry. "You are beautiful in your suffering." He stroked Harry's face and Harry had lost too much blood to attempt to bite his fingers or even talk back.

Suddenly Voldemort was in his mind and Harry couldn't throw him out. He had become too weak to control his memories. He tried to send the fabricated ones at Voldemort as his greatest enemy ploughed through his brain. "What were you doing before I caught you?" asked Voldemort and Harry thought of the Horcruxes. He tried to focus on the locket.

"Who was helping you?" Harry couldn't help but think of Ron and Hermione. He immediately tried to replace their thoughts with those of random other faces but it was too late.

"Your little friends from school? Pathetic. Dumbledore was a fool to think that children could stand up to me." The Death Eaters laughed and Harry's thoughts went to Dumbledore at the mention of his name. Voldemort watched his greatest rival's death with interest.

"Yes, Severus served me well which is why I have given you to him," Voldemort informed him.

Harry tried to focus on his memory of the injuries he had sustained earlier.

"They did have fun with you when you were first caught." Voldemort searched for memories of that event. "I've never heard anyone scream like that before."

"My Lord," Snape spoke up from somewhere behind Harry, "the boy appears to have no memory of his capture or our celebration afterwards. I suspect the head injury he sustained was responsible for that unfortunate outcome."

"No matter." Voldemort returned to his throne. "We will give him new memories. Begin, Severus."

Snape cracked the whip again and this time Harry cried out as it tore across his shoulders. The whip fell and fell again until Harry finally passed out from lack of blood.


When he woke, he felt no pain. He was lying face down on the crimson bed with Snape sitting beside him, his fingers gliding over Harry's lower back. Harry tried to move his limbs to throw him off but he could barely move his head. When he finally had enough control over his body to speak he croaked, "Leave me alone."

"You slept for some time," Snape responded evenly as his fingers moved over Harry's upper thighs. "If you don't eat, your wounds will never recover."

"Why d'you care? You will just torture me again and give me new ones. I don’t want you to touch me. I don't want you near me." Harry tried to pull himself up again and managed to prop himself up on his elbows.

Snape stepped away from the bed and washed his hands. "Be that as it may, the Dark Lord has given me strict orders to make sure you are healed." He stepped over to the table and tapped it with his wand. A full meal appeared and the aroma made Harry's stomach rumble.

"Eat and then I will take you in for a bath. Trust me, Potter; I do not enjoy bathing you any more than you enjoy being bathed by me. Bathe yourself and I will touch you no more than absolutely necessary," promised Snape.

Harry was too tired and hungry to argue, but he was still too weak to climb out of bed. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Snape tucked a vial that was sitting on Harry's sink back into his robes and finally left the cell.

Harry closed his eyes. He was a bit surprised he was still alive. He hoped he had not given too much away to Voldemort. He was terrible at Occlumency and had the impression that Voldemort had been able to see everything. There was nothing he could do about it now.

His second attempt at movement was much more successful, although he ended up on the floor when he attempted to get out of bed.

Snape returned levitating fresh sheets before him. He set down the sheets, hooking his hands under Harry's armpits and hauled him to his feet.

"Don't touch me!" Harry demanded, but Snape ignored him and dragged him to the chair.

Once he had pushed Harry into his seat, Snape released him and stepped away. Harry dug into the food. This time, there was only a stew made with chicken, carrots, onions, and rice. Snape busied himself behind Harry changing the sheets on the bed.

"Why don’t you have the house-elf do that?" Harry asked him, feeling remarkably calm after what had just happened.

"Do you think I would allow a house-elf down here knowing how you love to give them clothes?" Snape briskly said.

"Hermione does," said Harry through a mouth full of stew.

"Excuse me?"

Harry finished chewing. "I only freed Dobby; Hermione was responsible for trying to free the ones at Hogwarts."

"Miss Granger tried to set the Hogwarts' house-elves free?" There was something that almost sounded like amusement in Snape's voice.

"Yeah but they just got offended," said Harry, concentrating on his stew.

"Of course they were." Snape swept past with the pile of dirty laundry trailing after him. He stepped out of the bars and headed down the hall. Remembering his nudity, Harry headed back towards the bed to dress himself in a sheet. He found a small pile of black folded neatly near his pillow. His clothes! He snatched them up and discovered that the bottoms now had a draw string and were hemmed at the bottom to fit him perfectly. After completing his toiletries, he sat down on the floor and rested his head against the bars. The food had helped clear his senses somewhat, but he was still really tired and his brain felt stuffed full of cotton. His emotions were muted, as if a heavy cloth had been placed around his heart.

Snape walked back from the same direction that the bath was in. He ordered, "Take off your shirt and put your hands through the bars," as soon as he saw Harry.

"Why am I taking off my shirt now?" Harry asked him suspiciously as he stood.

"After your last escape attempt I plan on keeping your hands chained the entire time you are out of your room," said Snape.

Harry sulkily pulled off his shirt. "It wouldn’t have slowed me down. I would've got further if I hadn't tried to Floo out."

"You thought this house would be attached to a Floo network?" One of the blurry lines that were Snape's eyebrows inch up towards the darkness that was his hair.

"I was only thinking of escape." Harry put his hands through the bars and watched Snape cast the chaining spell. Snape stepped back and the bars parted for Harry to step through.

Feeling as though he was sleepwalking, Harry shuffled to the bathroom. He still felt remarkably calm even though he could feel his rage against Snape boiling below the surface of his thoughts. It was there, but he couldn't bring it to the surface. "Did you give me mood drugs too?"

"Perhaps," said Snape as he spelled the taps open. Harry watched him closely this time and saw him add the bubble bath. As if anticipating another attack, he stayed well out of reach this time.

"What are you waiting for?" Snape stared at Harry.

Harry shook himself. He undid the drawstrings on his bottoms, leaving them on the bath mat and slid into the tub.

Snape waited until Harry was sitting down and then moved past the tub to lean against the wall in his favourite spot.

"How am I going to wash myself with my hands chained?" Harry asked Snape as he grabbed the soap.

"I am sure you will manage," said Snape.

Harry complained, "I can’t reach my back."

"It is probably for the best. The wounds are still healing and you have a tendency to irritate your injuries."

"Injuries you gave me," muttered Harry as he soaped his arms as best he could. If Snape heard he gave no reply. He spoke louder, "I don't understand why you are so worried about me killing myself. The prophecy said that I have the ability to kill him. I'm going to do my best to kill him and I'll keep trying until I succeed or he kills me."

"How noble," sneered Snape.

Harry whirled around to glare at the Death Eater. "At least I try to do what's right. I don’t kill inno-"

"Get out of the tub, Potter." Snape stepped forward and snatched a towel off the rack with a snap. He dropped it over Harry’s head.

"But I haven't washed-"

"Out!" Snape grabbed Harry's upper left arm and yanked him out of the tub. The towel fell off as he pulled Harry out into the hall and dragged him naked and wet back to his cell. The bars parted and Snape threw him to the ground inside before storming off. There was a slam of a door and then quiet as Harry slowly got to his feet.

Snape was impossible. He shouldn't have joined the Death Eaters if he was so sensitive about being called a killer. Harry walked over to his bed and yanked the pillowcase off the pillow. He dried himself off and then crawled onto the mattress, covering himself with a sheet. His bottoms had been left back in the bathroom and he couldn't put on the shirt with his hands still chained.

Harry curled up and closed his eyes, thinking of his friends. He hoped Ron and Hermione were still safe. Knowing Hermione, she probably figured out he had been captured soon after and was plotting ways to help him escape. If anyone could get him out of here, she could. She and Ron would work their hardest to help him escape. Harry thought of his friends until he fell asleep.


He had a delightful dream. Ginny was helping him hunt for the Horcruxes and as part of their search they had to take a bath in a hot spring. Of course, Ginny had stripped naked and the small spring seemed to get smaller by the second until they were forced to press against each other in order to stay in the water. Ginny's breasts were soft and milky white with delicate pink nipples that pressed into his chest. His own clothes had disappeared at some point and his cock stood firmly at attention. She rubbed against him just the way he liked. "Oh yes...." He murmured as her body pressed hard against his, his cock caught between their bellies. "Yes...."

"Potter! What-"

Harry felt the sheet yanked off of him. He twisted his head to look up at Snape as he woke up and realised he was holding his cock in his hands. He blinked at the Death Eater who stood frozen by the side of the bed, holding the crimson bed sheet in his hand like a flag. Harry couldn't make out the expression on Snape's face but he thought he saw some pink spreading across his cheeks.

"Er . . .good morning." Harry finally said, his fingers still wrapped around his prick.

There was a particularly pronounced swirl of black and Snape left quicker than Harry had ever thought possible.

"Get rid of the chain!" yelled Harry at the retreating black smudge. He finally released his cock. Having the greasy git catch him in a wank was certainly a libido killer, plus, he needed to pee.

Harry slid out of bed and made his way to the toilet. Fresh food had been placed on the table along with black smudges that he assumed were his missing clothes. When his cock had calmed down he did his business, washed his hands, and then grabbed his bottoms. Snape had also folded Harry’s shirt, placing it neatly on top of his trousers. He carelessly tossed the shirt onto his bed and quickly yanked on the bottoms before sitting down to eat.

This time, there was a heavy soup with potatoes and various other things Harry didn't recognise. Pumpkin juice and thick sour bread rounded out the meal. Snape’s house-elf sure knew how to cook, even though he or she seemed to heavily favour stews and soups. The flavours were like nothing Harry had tasted at the Dursleys' or Hogwarts. He ate as much as he could, hating to waste food. After he finished, he cleaned his teeth and combed his hair.

Snape normally either gave him potions or dragged him off for a bath after he finished eating. If he had known earlier that jerking off in front of Snape would cause the man to leave him alone, he would've done it before. When the bastard didn't show up after he made his bed in lieu of nothing else to do, he decided to try to break through the chain. He picked up a chair and carried it over to the wall across from his bed.

Harry slid the chain under a leg of the chair and yanked up as hard as he could. The chain pressed against the wood and tugged on the manacles but did not break, even when Harry pulled up with all his strength. He manoeuvred himself so that the legs of the chair were pressed against the wall, the chain between his upper arms under the top right leg. He moved back and curled up so that his feet were pressed flat against the seat of the chair and used his feet to push down on the chair while he tugged back on his arms. The manacles dug into his wrists painfully, but the chain held fast. Shifting into a better position, he tugged harder.

Suddenly, the chain disappeared and he fell back on the floor. Snape stood on the other side of the bars.

"You will break your arm before you break the chain." Snape said in a voice that suggested the former would please him a lot more. Harry sat up and rubbed the cuffs to make sure the chain was really gone. "Now go lie on the bed."

"You better not be here to take me for a bath." Harry glared suspiciously at the black smudge once he was sure that the chain was not about to reappear.

"Of course not, you've already had one today," sneered Snape as if Harry should've known that fact. "I need to put more ointment on your back so that you don't scar."

"I don't know how much time passes when I sleep! For all I know I could've slept for days again. Besides, why the hell do you care if I scar?"

"I will use magic to move you to your bed if I must." Snape pointed his wand at Harry’s chest. "It is up to you."

Harry was a bit surprised Snape gave him a choice. Deciding he didn't want to be touched while immobilized or petrified, he threw himself across his bed.

Stepping through the bars, Snape lectured, "The overuse of sleeping potions and painkillers causes numerous adverse reactions including hallucinations, somnambulism, trichotillomania, seizures, mysophobia, and pavor nocturnes. As I barely tolerate your company enough as it is, you can be assured that I will not drug you any more than necessary."

Harry blinked at him. "I don't know what most of that means."

"What a surprise," said Snape dryly. He grabbed Harry's upper arms, pushing them towards the bedposts at the head of the bed. Harry was about to punch him in his huge nose when chains appeared between his manacles and the posts, leaving him unable to move his arms more than a few inches.

Harry scowled. He examined the manacles again as Snape rubbed some sort of oil into his back. The potions Snape had been feeding Harry had caused his vision to blur and now that the potions had started to work their way out of his system he could see the designs on the manacles clearly as long as he kept his face close to the metal. He realised that they were covered with runes as well as carvings of dragons that reminded him of the dragons on his bedposts. If only Hermione was here! She probably could've read the runes.

Snape finally stood and washed his hands in the sink. "Don't touch your back to anything for at least an hour. It would be beneficial if you didn't rub anything against it for at least five but knowing you, I imagine that you will find it difficult to avoid aggravating your wounds for even an hour."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

Snape stepped out of the cell, walking in the direction of the library.

"The chains!" Harry yelled after him, tugging on the rings. "I have to take a piss!" he lied.

Snape returned and flicked his wand, setting Harry free. He threw something at Harry who, with his Seeker skills sharp as ever, caught it easily. It was a thick paper back book.

"The Hunchback of Notre-Dame,” read Harry, placing the book inches from his face so he could make out the letters. "This would be a lot easier to read if I had glasses."

"If you behave, I may give them to you," said Snape from the other side of the bars. "Now that you have something constructive to do with your time, I expect you to be quiet unless you are dying. You are also not to engage in any behaviour where you are likely to break a limb." Snape's head jerked pointedly towards the chair still lying on the floor.

Annoyed at how Snape was lecturing him, Harry looked straight at the Death Eater and declared, "I was just going to wank."

Snape disappeared so fast it was almost as if he flew.


[[I know whipping is such a Muggle thing, but I think Snape would prefer to do something physical.]]


Chapter 1 ... 4 5

Tags: nights of gethsemane - fic
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