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I wasn't going to submit this to later, but I've been sick and haven't been able to go to work so I had time to work on this. Again, feel free to correct any grammar and spelling. My attempt at writing in British-speak is horrible, I know. I constantly find mistakes myself!



Previous


Harry woke from a dream he instantly forgot. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he glanced around the room to see what had awakened him, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. When he lay back down, the sheets brushed over his groin and his cock, already hard with morning wood, twitched excitedly. He hadn't been able to bring himself off in a while; living with Ron and Hermione made masturbation difficult even with silencing charms. Fuck Snape, he was going to have a proper wank.

Sliding out of bed, he fetched some sheets of toilet paper and brought them back to the bed. Eagerly, he undid the string on his pyjama bottoms and pushed them down, letting his prick spring free. Relaxing against the bed, he let his fingers slide over the head of his cock. That simple touch was enough to send blood pulsing into his cock, his balls pulling tight against his body, and he bit his lip.

Eager for orgasm, his prick spit out a drop of precum and he rubbed it around the delicate head with his thumb, as all the heat in his body shooting straight to his groin. God, this was just what he needed.

"Ah...." He spit on his hand, then fisted himself, wrapping his fingers tightly as he worked the shaft. The first strokes were slow, but nice. He nearly lifted his fist free of his prick with each up stroke and with each down stroke, he pushed his cock through his fingers until his hand was pressed against his pelvis. It had been far too long and soon his hips were thrusting as he fucked his fist, his eyes focused on how his length slid in and out of his fingers. He imagined that he was fucking a mouth, a hot wet mouth that was eager to suck all the spunk out of his dick.

“Fuck! Yes, fuck . . . yes, oh, fuck!" His arse rose up off the bed with each upward thrust and he clawed at the sheets with his left hand as his right worked furiously on his length. His balls pulled taunt against his body, and he knew he couldn't last. Snatching up the tissues with his free hand, he pressed them over the tip, squeezing his eyes shut as he pumped sperm out of his prick with his hand.

He kept his eyes closed while the tremors subsided and his heart rate slowed. When his breaths were even and his limbs no longer shaking, he opened his eyes and cleaned up the come that had dripped out of the tissue, tucking his spent prick back in his bottoms.

He plodded over to the toilet, flushing the used tissue down before washing his hands. Normally there was food when he woke up. The chair he'd left against the wall remained in the same position, which meant that Snape had probably not entered the cell while Harry was sleeping.

After setting the chair right, Harry had nothing else to do, so he read another chapter in Hunchback before he grew too hungry to ignore his stomach. He had got used to not eating regularly at the Dursleys, but his stomach ached as if he hadn't eaten for more than a day. He set the book back down and approached the bars.

At the top of his lungs he yelled, "Snape!" When no response came after a count of five, he yelled Snape's name again. After three more attempts at summoning failed to procure bastard, Harry smacked his fists against the bars in frustration. When his manacles stuck, a deep, ringing sound resonated through them, spreading up into the ceiling and down into the floor. He stuck them again, harder, and delighting when the resonance increased.

He banged his cuffs against the bars until the door to the library slammed open and Snape strode through. Harry couldn't see his face clearly but swept across the floor like the tornadoes in a programme Dudley had watched about the American Midwest. Snape reached through the bars, grabbed Harry by the shirt and yanked him forward, knocking his head against a bar.

"Ow!"

"You had better be dying!" snarled Snape.

Harry shot out a hand, slamming Snape's arm into a bar. They touseled, Harry trying to knock Snape's hands into the bars and Snape trying to stop him. Without his glasses, Snape's torso was indistinguishable from his arms and soon Snape had him trapped, one hand wrapped around his neck while his other held Harry's wrists together.

As calmly as he could, Harry said, "I thought you weren't supposed to hurt me."

The fingers around Harry's neck twitched as if Snape were just looking for an excuse to snap it. In a low voice he said, "At this point, Potter, I think that the joy I'd obtain from wringing your scrawny neck would more than make up for whatever tortures the Dark Lord would inflict upon me. Now, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"I'm hungry, you bastard."

Snape stared at him. Harry couldn't make out Snape's expression unless he pressed his face closer and he wasn't going to do that with Snape's fingers digging into his neck. He glared at Snape, expecting to be crucio-ed or at least hexed but he didn't care.

Finally, to Harry's surprise, the anger on Snape's face melted as if a switch had been flipped. Wearing a neutral expression, Snape released Harry and, in a remarkably calm voice, said. "Go sit on the bed."

Refusing wasn't going to get him fed, so Harry walked back towards the bed, keeping a suspicious eye on Snape the entire time. It was unlike the bastard to be nice, so he watched his closely as he sat on the edge of the bed. Snape cast the chain spell and rings formed between Harry's left manacle and the nearest ring on the bedpost, then walked back towards the library. When Snape was out of sight, Harry cursed him and lay back against the bed. He was so hungry; he’d have taken pain if that meant getting food in exchange. Oh well, he had endured starvation with the Dursleys and learnt how to handle it then. He could learn to wait longer.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Harry decided to read his book. It was out of his reach on the floor by the head of the bed even when he stretched out as far as he could and tried to knock it towards himself using his foot. He sat back on his bed and made a lasso out of one of the sheets. The sheet was just long and crisp enough that he managed to make a loop he could throw over the book, dragging it forward when he pulled the sheet back towards himself. Triumphant, he turned to the next chapter, curling up on the bed with his back towards the bars because the light was better that way.

Harry was chuckling at the scene where Quasimodo encountered a deaf judge and did not hear Snape enter. There was a loud rapping noise behind him and he turned over to see Snape standing by the table which now had food upon its surface.

"Did you not complain of hunger earlier or did you just use that as an excuse to make an inordinate amount of noise?" Snape's tone let Harry know he was scowling.

"I did." Harry finally managed to speak. He closed the book and scooted towards the edge of the bed. "I just . . . didn't expect you to actually bring me food."

"Trust me, Potter." Snape stepped away from the table and waved his hand so that the chain disappeared. "I would have preferred to hex you until what remains of your brain drips out your ears, but neither of us is in a situation where we can afford to be picky."

Ignoring him, Harry hurried over to the table. There was pumpkin juice, water, three sandwiches that appeared to be made with peanut butter and jam, and an apple. He threw himself in a chair and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth.

Snape spoke in low, even tones. "I will not withhold food from you even when you deserve to be starved. I will bring you food when it is convenient for me to do so. As I said before, you are only allowed to make that sort of racket if you are dying. If I hear it again, I will chain you to the bed and take away your voice.”

Harry chewed a sandwich as he listened to Snape, watching his face even though all he saw was a sallow blur. He did not doubt that the man would do everything that he promised.

"Bellatrix will be arriving later tonight. I know that she heavily desires to keep you as her pet. If you continue to be difficult, I will not hesitate to hand you over." Snape turned and left, walking towards the library.

Harry drank his pumpkin juice. Snape acted as though keeping Harry captive was a huge chore and something that he had to suffer through. Yet, Voldemort had said that Harry was given to the Death Eater as a reward for killing Dumbledore. Did Snape think Harry didn't remember what Voldemort had told him? Determined not to think about what Bellatrix might want with him, Harry returned to the bed after eating and read his book.

He read off and on until his eyes hurt and he couldn't stand the thought of turning another page. Bored out of his mind, he paced around the cell. He had no idea how much time had passed since breakfast, but based on how much he had read, he imagined that it had to be at least twelve hours. He was hungry again. Snape either ate like a bird or was underfeeding him in retaliation. As he had no desire to be chained to the bed, he remained quiet. Instead, he took the bed apart, discovering that it was composed of a pile of mattresses kept in place by the frame. Two thick metallic bars connected the one bedpost that wasn’t against a wall to the others. Unlike the bedposts, the bar had no design as far as Harry’s fingers and fuzzy vision could tell. The heavy mattresses were difficult to lift, and it took him a while to yank the last one up out of the frame. He was on his hands and knees, exploring the floor underneath the mattresses for cracks or hidden doors when Snape strode in.

"Potter."

Sitting up, Harry glanced over the frame, feeling remarkably calm for being in the presence of the Death Eater responsible for the deaths of so many of his loved ones. Snape had to be drugging him with potions so powerful, he couldn't even get angry over Snape drugging him.

Snape's face slowly turned as he examined the room with the three mattresses strewn across the floor. After he had examined the room, Snape regarded Harry quietly for a moment before he spoke again. "Follow me, you need a bath."

Harry agreed with him. The mattresses were heavy and, not having been given deodorant, he knew he smelled ripe. He got to his feet and walked to the cell bars, putting his hands through a slot while Snape waited for him outside.

"Take off your shirt first," Snape reminded him.

"Oh, yeah." He dropped it onto the floor and offered his hands again. Snape cast the spell for the chain and opened the bars at the same time. The double-casting was impressive, although he refused to show it. No need to make the bastard feel better about himself. He walked down the hall towards the bathroom while Snape followed, spelling the faucets open.

Harry dropped his bottoms as Snape closed the door behind them. The chain between his cuffs disappeared and he quickly climbed into the tub, hiding his hands below the water in case Snape hadn't removed the chain on purpose.

"I thought Bellatrix was coming."

"She is." Snape leaned against the wall in his favourite spot. "Another engagement ran over."

What sort of 'engagement' would hold up a Death Eater? It couldn't be a good one. Hopefully not one that involved Ron and Hermione. He dropped his soap as he realised that he hadn't practiced his Occlumency nearly enough. Fuck, Voldemort was going to read his mind. He wasn't sure that he had any secrets left to hide but it was risky to try and chance it. Focus, he had to focus.

"Potter." Snape’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. "We don't have much time."

Nodding his agreement, Harry retrieved the soap, and scrubbed his arm pits, trying to focus his mind.

Snape stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door opened behind him. Harry stared after him before shampooing up his hair. It was strange to be left alone. Maybe Snape had got over his fear that Harry was going to kill himself any second. It didn't make any sense that Snape let him be alone for hours at a time in his cell but insisted on watching him in the bath. Maybe he was a creep after all. He ducked under the water to rinse his hair and when he sat up Snape was standing in the doorway.

"Hurry up, Potter.

Harry grumbled but climbed out of the tub. He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried himself off looking for his bottoms.

Snape said, "You won't need them right now. Follow me."

The thought of running flashed through his mind, but he ignored it. He would face his enemy on his feet with his head high. Besides, he’d have a better chance of escape once they got out of the cellar. His stomach in knots, Harry turned towards Snape.

The chain reappeared between Harry's manacles and he followed Snape out into the hallway. As he passed by the cell, he glanced in to see that Snape had restored the bed. Snape led him through the library, up the stairs, and through a door on the opposite end of the hall from Snape's bedroom.

Snape took him into the room where he'd seen Voldemort before. A small dais rose up out of the marble floor along the wall opposite the door. Upon the dais rested a black throne carved with sharp angles. Red couches and low tables of dark wood were scattered along the walls. In addition to the door Snape had walked Harry through, two massive doors stood on Harry's left. There were not any windows in this room, which was lit by candles.

Snape waved his wand and something pushed hard on the back of Harry's knees, knocking them against the floor. He looked up just to see the massive doors bang open and Voldemort stride in, followed by Bellatrix and two other Death Eaters Harry couldn't make out.

"Have you been playing with the toy, Severus?" Bellatrix sang out in her baby voice. "I hope he can still scream for me."

Snape ignored her, bowing low to Voldemort. "My Lord."

Voldemort walked past him and sat in his throne. "Come speak with me, Severus." He conjured a chair beside him although it was not even half as big as his throne. Snape obediently moved over.

"Thank you, my Lord," he said before taking his seat. It made Harry sick to hear him kowtow and scrape. How any of them could stand being slaves, he didn't know.

Bellatrix approached him eagerly as if he were a Christmas present. "Do you remember when you tried to cast Cruciatus on me, little boy?" She ran her wand across his back and he flinched away.

"I remember. I'm much better at it now." If he had his wand he would've cast it on her in an instant.

"I think you still need a lesson or two," she cackled. "Crucio!"

It seemed as if every nerve he had in his body had been set on fire and he flailed around, trying not to scream. Bellatrix laughed, her cackling voice falling on him like needles. He tried to roll away from her, but she cast again as soon as the first one faded and he could do nothing but scream and writhe.

"See how pretty he suffers, my Lord?" purred Bellatrix. She cut the spell and Harry panted on the floor, trying to move so most of his body was off the tiles. His entire body felt as if it was on fire, but the parts pressing against the marble burned as if all the skin had been peeled away.

"I wonder how long before he ends up like the Longbottoms." Grabbing his hair, she yanked his head up as she knelt down. She ran her wand along his jaw and he couldn't do anything but shake as her face twisted in an obscene version of a smile. "You remember them, my pet? The Longbottoms. How would you like to join them?"

She wanted him to beg. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "I remember them," he finally managed to croak, "You cast the Cruciatus there too. You aren't very creative, are you?"

Her features twisted, growing even uglier than he would have thought possible, and she clawed him across the face with her left hand, her nails tearing through his skin. She screamed, "Crucio!" and this time she didn't let up.

Finally, Voldemort's voice rang out over the room, "He's had enough for now." Bellatrix stopped. Harry wanted to pass out but he was in too much pain to do anything but twitch and hurt, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

"Severus, return him." A sharp pain went through Harry's upper arm and he cried out. He was yanked to his feet but he couldn't stand, and the attempt made him puke. Snape roughly dragged out of the room, his legs sliding against the marble, causing him pain beyond belief. Finally, Snape grew tired of dragging him once they reached the hall. The tendrils of Mobilicorupus carried him gently back to his cell and lowered him onto his bed.

"Open your mouth," ordered Snape. Figuring he was going to be fed healing potions, Harry accepted the potion. He choked, his shoulders rocking and horrible pain firing through him again. He wanted to throw up again but forced himself to swallow.

Snape left, his footsteps loud in Harry's head as he walked down the hall. Harry allowed himself to moan. Fuck, the whipping hadn't been near as bad. The sleeping potion finally started to kick in and Harry welcomed it, trying to help it come on faster. At least he hadn't cried or begged.

~


When Harry woke, he was in a tub filled with a white liquid. He panicked when he realised he was under the water and opened his mouth to scream. A second later he remembered it was stupid to scream when finding oneself under water. A second after that he realised he could breathe but he was already upright at that point and staring at Snape who was sitting by the tub with a book open in his lap.

"You are wearing a bubble-head charm," Snape said calmly. "I suggest lying back down so that that healing potion can work on your upper body as well."

Snape wasn't wearing his robes. To Harry’s fuzzy eyes he appeared to be dressed in black bottoms and a black top that looked like a jumper. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing a dark smudge that had to be the Dark Mark. He had never seen Snape's bare forearms before and they seemed almost obscene somehow. Harry stared at them in fascination.

"Harry," Snape's voice seemed to come from far away, "lie back down."

Harry did so and returned to sleep.

~


When he woke again, he was in his bed. His bladder felt close to bursting and he was sore all over, but the pain he had felt earlier from the Cruciatus had completely gone. He hurried over to the toilet and relieved himself. How long had he slept?

After washing his hands, he glanced around the room and saw food spread across the table. He felt as if he could eat an entire hippogriff! The main dish was a yummy smelling flaky white fish in a red sauce speckled with herbs, but the nearby bowl that looked and smelled like chicken noodle soup caught his attention. He tasted some and it was, without a doubt, the best soup he'd had. Freshly baked rolls with butter sat nearby, along with dessert: strawberries sprinkled with sugar. Pumpkin juice and water rounded out the meal. The house-elves had really gone all out this time. Harry dug in, trying a bit of everything else before attacking his fish eagerly. After eating and performing his toiletries, and dressing, he returned to his bed to read.

He hadn't got very far when Snape stepped into the room. Harry closed his book and sat up. It couldn't be time for more torture, could it?

Snape took a small vial out of his robes and walked over to Harry. "I need to put this on your face so you won't scar. Do you hurt?"

Harry shook his head and scooted to sit on the edge of the bed. He'd rather punch Snape than let him touch him, but his limbs hurt far too much to even work up a good kick. He would save his revenge for when he felt better and when he wasn't drugged into artificial calmness. "Not anymore. That white stuff really works."

Snape tilted the bottle into the palm of his left hand and painted a white cream over the scratches on Harry's face with his right. He bent in close to examine the marks and Harry was finally able to make out most of the features on his face. He looked the same as he did back in Hogwarts except for his eyes. Snape had always either looked at Harry with eyes that were cold or glittering with anger. Now, his eyes had an air of clinical detachment as if Harry were a potion to which he was adding an ingredient. He did not meet Harry's eyes but focused on his fingers' movements over the scratches.

Snape finished before long, straightened, corked the vial, then washed his hands in the sink. "Don't touch your face for at least the next hour although it would be best if you didn't rub the lotion off for at least half a day. If you need to sleep, then try to rest on your back."

"Okay." Harry lay back on the bed and picked up his book. Snape left, heading towards the library.

~


Harry read off and on until Snape returned in a period of time Harry estimated to be about five hours later. He stepped quickly through the bars, touched the table with his wand so that food appeared, then left as hurriedly as he arrived. Harry plodded over to examine the dishes and found it basically the same meal that he was served for lunch although without the soup. He ate lazily, enjoying his meal. As he was finishing it off, he had a sudden flash of inspiration. Snape only gave him a spoon - no knife, no fork. Presumably he didn't want Harry to have a weapon. Yet, the bowl with the strawberries and sugar was ceramic. Harry threw it on the ground. It shattered, shards spreading wide across the floor, the biggest piece landing near the bed. Three inches wide and an inch thick with a sharp looking edge, it could be used as a weapon. Snatching it up, Harry stuffed it under his top mattress. The next largest piece was under the table. He was bending down to pick it up when Snape stormed in.

"Stupid boy!" he snarled, "Get on the bed, Potter!"

Harry glared at him but climbed onto the bed. Snape swept into the cell. "Accio ceramic shards!"

Harry sat heavily on the one hidden under his mattress, preventing it from joining the rest that Snape gathered in his robes.

Snape hissed, "Be careful, you fool," before storming off. Harry waited until he was out of sight then retrieved his piece and stuck it under his pillow. With how quickly Snape had shown up, he'd probably hung out in the library. Annoying git. Snape treated Harry like some pest as if Harry had a choice in his imprisonment even though Harry hadn't been nearly half as annoying to Snape as he could've been. He stroked the shard under his pillow with his fingers and plotted until he fell asleep.

He was having a delightful dream about Ginny and another naked Horcrux search when Snape rudely interrupted him by tapping the table with his wand. Harry woke up, his cock hard, and bent his neck to glare at the Death Eater. "I was having a good dream."

"Get up, Potter," ordered Snape. "After you eat, you are getting a bath."

Harry grumbled. He pulled his sheet further up his body and stealthily grabbed the shard from under his pillow, tying it to one of his drawstrings before tucking it in his bottoms. Carefully sliding out of the bed, he sat before the table. This time, the meal was composed of breakfast foods. There were crepes with whipped cream and a strawberry sauce alongside a thick omelette stuffed with onions, bell peppers, cheese, and mushrooms. Instead of pumpkin juice, orange juice rested next to the water. He had been given paper dishes this time. Even the drinks were in paper cups.

He couldn't figure out how to eat the crepes with the spoon and ended up picking them up in his hands. Strawberry sauce dripped over his fingers and he got whipped cream on his nose. Snape had returned at some point and watched him eat. Harry licked his fingers clean and thought about licking the plate but felt embarrassed about doing so in front of Snape for some reason.

Snape finally grew impatient with him. "Hurry up, Potter. I have things to do."

Harry forced his expression into one of calm as he raged at Snape internally. He knew that Snape was trying to remind Harry that Harry couldn't do anything that he wanted to do. Snape probably blaming him for being locked up! But it was all Snape's fault. If Snape hadn't killed Dumbledore then Harry would be in the protection of Albus. He'd probably have destroyed all the Horcruxes by now. If Snape hadn't told Voldemort the prophecy then Harry's life would've been so much better. It was all Snape's fault. Even with the drugs keeping his rage from full force, the strength of Harry’s hatred of Snape was so strong that he could feel it pulsing in his chest like a wild animal. He needed to hide it if he was to escape though. With all his effort, Harry kept his rage off his face as he submissively removed his shirt and pushed his hands through the bars. Snape chained him, then parted the bars.

Carefully, Harry kept the shard on the side of his body away from Snape's eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. If he went too slowly Snape would become suspicious, but if he moved too quickly then it might fall out of his bottoms. When he reached the bathroom, he undressed, concealed the shard tucked in his bottoms. Snape remained well out of Harry's reach the entire time he was undressing. As Harry bathed himself, he considered his options.

Last night he had decided to try to escape again. Based on what he had observed, he, Snape, and the elves were the only occupants of the house most of the time. Voldemort showed up once in a while with friends to torture Harry but otherwise seemed to leave the two of them alone. Based on the lack of windows on the floor where his cell was, he assumed he was in the cellar and the floor above him the first story. The big doors in the throne room didn't seem to lead outside, but the door to outside was probably just beyond them. If he disabled Snape, he could run through the library, up the stairs, down the hall, through the throne room and out the front door. He was pretty sure that he was a faster runner than Snape and would mostly need to disable the Death Eater to account for his tied hands. Hermione had always been after him to pay more attention to his surroundings and her nagging had paid off.

The hard part was getting out of the bathroom before Snape cast a spell on him. Snape knew enough wandless magic that even if Harry could snatch his wand from him or break it, he would still be able to stop Harry from leaving the room. Harry calculated Snape's weak points in his head. The man ordinarily wore too many clothes for Harry to go after his arteries or stomach. His best bet would be to try for his neck, wrist, or ankles.

Harry knew Snape would grow suspicious if he took too long in the bath so he climbed out and dried himself off. He bent down to pull on his bottoms and discretely took out the shard. Hiding the shard, he untied it from the drawstring, then grabbed his stomach and doubled over as if in pain. “Ow!”

Snape swept to his side. "What's wrong?"

Harry groaned, "My stomach!"

"Let me look." Snape knelt down in front of Harry to check. Harry waited until the Death Eater was as close as he ever got and then, holding the shard tightly in his right hand, he slashed at Snape's left ankle, going for the tendon along the back. At the same time, he threw his body against Snape's, knocking him back against the wall.

It would've worked with almost any other wizard. Snape fell back and loud bang announced his skull connecting with the wall. Unfortunately for Harry, Snape grabbed onto Harry's left wrist as he fell and pulled Harry with him. Harry kicked at Snape with all his might, and managed to draw a grunt out of him when his feet connected with Snape's ribs. Snape yanked hard on Harry's wrist and tripped him using his own body. Harry fell, narrowly missing striking his head on the edge of the cabinet. As soon as he landed, he slashed at Snape again with his makeshift knife and cut open Snape’s left upper sleeve. Snape finally recovered from his shock long enough to yell, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Harry was caught.

Harry couldn't believe his luck. Of all the Death Eaters to capture him, he had to be stuck with the one who actually knew how to fight. He raged in his mind as Snape pushed him onto the floor and stepped out of his range of vision. Snape's breathing was ragged and Harry knew he was beyond pissed off, but didn't care. Snape couldn't hurt him until Voldemort showed up and he doubted that would be anytime soon.

He was lifted by Mobilicorpus and floated back to his cell.

"I have been very reasonable with you so far, Potter." Snape's voice was very low and controlled. "Yet, you continue to challenge my authority and engage in behaviour that suggests to me that you are wilfully being stupid." Harry was placed face up on his bed. Snape stepped over and took the shard. He tucked it into his robes, then uncast and recast the chaining spell to bind Harry cuffs to the bed posts. Finally, he released the body bind.

Harry snarled and tried to kick at him. Snape caught his ankles and pressed them together as Harry arched his back. "Get off of me, you greasy bastard! Don't touch me!"

Snape ignored him and held his ankles in place with one hand. With his other, he curled his fingers around the waistband of Harry's bottoms and yanked them down. Harry thrashed about wildly. "Stop! Don't!"

Snape released Harry's ankles and yanked his pyjama bottoms off the rest of the way. As soon as he could, Harry moved as far away from him as the chains allowed. He pressed himself up against the wall and stared at Snape, his breath ragged.

Snape folded up Harry's bottoms. "Jugson was given the reward of torturing you at the next visit, but I will request to give you the lash again and this time, what Bellatrix did to you will seem merciful." With that threat, Snape left in a swirl of black.

Harry desperately tried to get his breathing back to normal. He hoped he had made Snape bleed. With nothing else to do, he tried to make himself go to sleep, but it was along time in coming.


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Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
magic_helmet
Dec. 31st, 2007 06:59 am (UTC)
This was a powerful chapter. You've written your Harry very canon - impulsive and brave, if even a bit stupid at times.

His flight from Snape would've been brilliant - if he'd made it... now, I'm afraid, he's in for it BIG TIME!
kibatsu
Dec. 31st, 2007 04:09 pm (UTC)
I've tried to write Harry as canon as possible. I started reading Harry Potter fanfiction this past summer and I read too many stories where Harry turns into a snivelling wreck who can't deal with stressful situations. This boy faced down Voldemort, and watched a classmate get killed his 4th year without crying! I love his spirit and his courage.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )