"Get up, Potter!" demanded Snape and Harry pulled the covers up over his head. Snape yanked them off and dragged Harry out of bed at the same time, pushing him into a chair. "You will eat your breakfast or I will force it down your throat. I have work for you to do today and if you don’t eat, you will be even more useless than normal." He left in an angry swirl of black.
Harry stared at the dishes before him. He’d been given a thick, white soupy looking thing, crepes with strawberry jam and whipped cream, orange juice, pumpkin juice, water, and more of the strange tangy, orange fruit. Picking up a piece of the fruit, he nibbled on it. He was going to have to ask Snape what it was called; he had never had anything as delicious. After he finished the fruit, he felt hungry for breakfast. He ate everything, then used the toilet, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. When he finished his morning routine, he found his clothing and his books resting by the edge of the bed.
Harry dressed and lay down on his bed to read. He was involved in the passage of the storming of Notre Dame when Snape returned.
"Come here, Potter."
It was pointless to resist and he wanted any chance he could to get out of his cell, so Harry put down the book and crossed the room to put his hands through the bars. After chaining him, Snape stepped back and waved the bars open. Snape pulled a black cloth from his robes and placed it over Harry’s eyes, blindfolding him.
"What's this?" asked Harry in alarm, the ennui he had been drowning in broken with his loss of sight. He raised his hands to pull it off. Snape grabbed the chain between Harry’s cuffs, stopping him.
"You are not to see where I am taking you. Come, I will not harm you unless you misbehave," he promised and tugged on the chain to lead Harry. Where could they be going? Snape never took him anywhere except the throne room, so he allowed Snape to pull him along. Snape led him through the library and up the stairs. They turned once they reached the top of the stairs and Harry swallowed thickly, afraid that they were going to the throne room. Instead, Snape pulled him through the third door instead, stepping into a room that was carpeted like the hall. They walked several paces before another door was opened and more carpeting greeted Harry's bare feet. Snape remained quiet as he opened yet another door and Harry felt marble under his feet as he trotted after Snape. He had the distinct sensation that they were outside by the change in air, although he did not feel a breeze nor hear any noises. Another door was opened and Harry stepped on wood. Snape put his hand on Harry's shoulder, pulling him to a stop.
"There are stairs here," he informed Harry.
Carefully, Harry walked down the staircase, listening to Snape's steps to judge where he should put his feet. Once they reached the bottom, Harry’s feet touched cool stone and Snape led him forward a short ways before he stopped Harry again and removed the blindfold. Harry blinked his eyes, not believing what he saw: a potions lab. It was huge, almost as big as the entire classroom had been back at Hogwarts. It appeared to have been cut out of a cave with rough stone composing the walls and floors. Wooden shelves filled with all sorts of containers covered most of the walls, their contents a kaleidoscope of colours, shapes and sizes. In the centre of the room, four massive cauldrons boiled in a rectangular pit, their contents unrecognisable to Harry. Eight heavy work tables flanked the pit, their surfaces covered in mostly unknown contents, although Harry recognised two smaller cauldrons on the table furthest to his left mostly by the bright multi-coloured smoke emanating from each one.
Harry couldn't believe it. Snape had brought him to his personal lab? Harry hoped he wouldn't be expected to make anything. He wasn't the best at potions even with his glasses on. In fact, he was sure he had had a nightmare that went something like this: being locked in a dungeon and forced to take a never-ending potions lesson where Snape picked on him for everything he did and kept failing him no matter how hard he tried.
Snape conjured a stool in front of the worktable closest to Harry on the right. Harry reluctantly took it, staring at the mostly empty surface as Snape removed the chain between his cuffs and then re-chained him to the worktable, although he left enough length on the chain for Harry to move his arms almost two feet in each direction. Turning around, Snape fetched a tray and pushed it over to Harry’s side of the worktable. Harry peered at it to see tons of empty small glass jars. Snape set a larger black jar next to the tray, and twisted off the lid. Harry watched with interest as Snape reached inside the jar and removed a small green object.
He held it out for Harry, who opened his palm to accept it. Whatever it was, it was round and spiney, although the little spokes that covered its surface did not prick his fingers. Harry had never seen anything like it, but he guessed it was some sort of plant.
"What is it?"
"They are seeds of Datura inoxia, more commonly known as Devil’s Trumpet," Snape answered. "I had these shipped from Southern California. An exquisitely beautiful yet deadly flower, it was used by the Aztecs for its hallucinogenic properties."
Harry quickly set the ball down on the table.
"It won’t affect you unless you ingest it." Snape assured him. "Place five pods in each jar."
"This would go a lot quicker if I had my glasses," complained Harry but he started to count out five from the jar.
"It would, but you don’t need them now." Snape moved over to one of the huge cauldrons in the pit and began to stir it languidly.
"I think you just prefer me without glasses because I don't look like my dad without them," grumbled Harry, annoyed that Snape was telling him what he needed. Snape did not say anything in response and Harry concentrated on his work.
After several minutes, Harry discretely nudged one of the seeds into his lap. He thought using poisons to be rather cowardly, but he needed as many weapons as he could get.
"Put that back, Potter," Snape said. "If you try to steal any more, I will punish you."
Harry reluctantly placed it back on the table. Snape must've had hawk eyes to notice that all the way across the room. He returned to his duties.
When Harry finished his task, he sat back on the stool and watched Snape putter around his laboratory, adding extra ingredients to his potion. Shortly, Snape finished and returned to Harry. He retied the blindfold, fixed the chain, then led Harry back to his cell. Harry paid close attention to the directions that they were moving and the feel of each new room or passageway. He was sure that they were outside when they walked down that one particular hallway that led from a room of wood to a hallway of carpet. When Harry realised he was standing in his cell again, he thought back over his journey and estimated that the potions lab was set apart from the house to the right of the throne room. On his next escape attempt, he would know where to go.
Snape removed the blindfold and the chain before leaving. Harry wandered over to his bed and picked up Hunchback. He was determined to finish it before he started the mythology book.
He quickly became involved in the story and did not notice Snape's return until the Death Eater cleared his throat.
Harry threw the book down on the floor and sat up to exclaim, "I can't believe it! He saved the goat! The goat instead of the girl!"
"This surprises you?" said Snape with an amused tone to his voice.
"And that pervert!" Harry continued to rant, "’the tomb, or my bed.’ What kind of choice is that? She’s gotta be the sex slave of an ugly, old creep or die. I think I'd choose death too."
"She would've been much better off had she agreed to Frollo's terms and then killed him in his sleep," countered Snape as he stepped through the bars and spelled food on the table.
"She's far too noble and pure to do something like that! You think too much like a Slytherin." Harry waited until the Death Eater had moved away from the chair before he approached it to eat his meal.
Snape snorted in derision on his way out. "Noble? I think you mean stupid and short sighted. You must admit that her death was no other fault than her own."
Harry whirled around in his chair to face Snape. "What? How is it her fault? Frollo was the one who stabbed Phoebus and got her charged with murder! Yeah, she was stupid to care so much about Phoebus who treated her like dirt, but she couldn't help it. She was in love."
"You excuse her behaviour on account of love but do not do the same for Frollo?" asked Snape, pausing outside the bars.
Harry frowned at him. "It's different! Frollo didn't care about her at all; he just wanted her as if she was an object or something. Esmeralda was innocent and truly loved Phoebus."
Snape’s eyebrows climbed up towards his hair. "Did she? She fell in love with him based on his appearance and misread his thoughts and intentions nearly every time they interacted. She loved him for who he appeared to be rather than for who he was. Think of how poorly she treated Quasimodo at first; he was ugly in appearance, but far more innocent and caring than even she. Compare him with his direct opposite, Phoebus, her love, who was perfect in form yet corrupt within."
"Like Dobby and Draco," murmured Harry, remembering his dream.
"Dobby and Draco?" echoed Snape, the line between his eyebrows growing darker.
Harry flushed. "Never mind. So is he trying to say that love is bad or something?"
"No, I don't believe that is the intent of the book at all. It speaks very highly of familial love for example." Snape steepled his fingers. "I think the message you should take from this book is that, contrary to what others have repeatedly told you, love is not always a positive force-"
Snape held up his hand for quiet. "I assume you are about to argue that what the characters feel is not true love." At Harry’s nod he continued, "Yet, when we try to make such distinctions we run the risk of dismissing love completely. Do you feel that your love for your parents is less than your love for your friends because you've never met your parents and don't know them personally?"
Harry scowled. A burst of hot anger flowed through him at how casually Snape had mentioned Harry’s parents as if he weren't responsible for their deaths but he forced it down. "No, of course not."
"Love saved you and gave you power through that scar," said Snape, slowly and evenly, "but it also has the potential to destroy you and the ones you love even when your love is ‘true’ as you would say."
Harry stared at the Death Eater. "You think I shouldn't love?" Fat chance. He'd end up ugly, alone, and miserable like Snape.
"No, of course not." Snape shook his head. "Just imagine if, in order to destroy the Dark Lord, you'd be required to sacrifice one of your loved ones. Take Miss Granger, for example. If she told you that she needed to sacrifice her life in order that the Dark Lord would be destroyed and the war brought to an end, you would try to stop her, correct?"
"Of course I would! I'd do everything! There would have to be some other way to stop him."
"And your reluctance would damn countless other individuals, including your remaining friends," Snape roughly pointed out. "Your love for her would cause you to fail, and the result would be evil."
"That's not going to happen." Harry looked sharply at Snape. "Is it?"
"Perhaps." Snape walked out of sight.
Harry stared at his food. Snape was just talking in the hypothetical, right? He didn’t have Hermione, did he? He shook himself and then dug into his beef stew. Snape was just trying to annoy him.
After he finished his meal, Harry finished Hunchback. He found the whole thing very depressing and wondered if Snape was wrong and the message was ‘Don’t love - it will only get you hurt.’ He fell asleep soon after he went to bed
Harry dreamt that Ginny had surrendered to the Death Eaters and joined him in his cell. She ate breakfast with him and then they took a shower together. Snape insisted on watching and Ginny stripped naked eagerly. She climbed in the tub and pulled in Harry after her. Harry found himself naked as well.
She whispered, "Let's have sex in front of Snape," in his ear and his cock twitched eagerly in excitement.
"Let's," he agreed and caressed her small breasts. She moaned and rubbed against him and kissed his chest.
"Harry, I want you," she pleaded as he rubbed his dick against her soft stomach.
"Kiss me like Draco did," he insisted and she did, her tongue invading his mouth. She pushed him back hard and he was in a bed and she climbed on top of him as Draco had done. Snape sat on a chair in the corner of the room, his forearms bare. He turned a page in the book he was reading, ignoring the naked teens before him.
Ginny grinded against him, rubbing her pussy against his cock and he moaned and thrust desperately up. She held him down and gave him electric kisses along his neck.
"Rub her breasts, you fool," Snape said him. And Harry did so, "Like this, sir?"
"Much better," said Snape and Ginny together.
He rolled over, dragging Ginny underneath him. He humped her stomach, his cock trapped between their bodies. Ginny writhed and yelled at him to go ‘faster, harder, more, more, MORE-’
Harry woke up as he orgasmed. When he calmed, down he realised he had humped his bed to climax. He undid the drawstrings of his bottoms and stared at the sticky mess he had made. Snape would know what he had done. Snape had been in his sex dream! He groaned. Just his luck, not only had his least favourite teacher invaded his life but he was taking over his fantasies as well. No more sex dreams with Snape he resolved. Harry muttered, "Sex and Snape do not belong in the same sentence," into his pillow.
"What was that, Potter?" Snape's voice carried over from the hallway.
Harry buried his face. Maybe suicide wasn't such a bad option after all....
"Are you hurt, Potter?" Snape paused by the table.
Harry slowly lifted his flaming face, avoiding Snape's eyes. "No, no, I’m fine. I just, um, I was thinking that I should wash my clothes. Got any soap for them?"
"I will take care of it, just give them to me."
"I'd rather do it myself," insisted Harry.
"I am quite certain you would end up making a mess. I'll wash them while you are taking your bath if your nudity concerns you," offered Snape.
Realising he wasn’t going to get out of this one Harry nodded. "Okay, but I'd like a bath now, before breakfast."
"Very well." Snape stepped back outside the bars. Harry took off his shirt and tucked it under his arms. Snape chained him and they walked to the bathroom together. Harry elected for a bath this time, slipping out of his bottoms, and jumping in the tub as quickly as he could. He was very glad that Snape gave him bubble baths since he hated being naked in front of Snape, even though he had been fully exposed to the Death Eaters many times before.
Snape paid no attention to Harry's hurried attempts to keep himself covered. He calmly collected Harry's clothes and floated them away, presumably to give to the house-elves.
Being in the tub again reminded Harry of his dream and his face grew heated as he hardened again. The part with Ginny had been very hot. That was the furthest they had come to having sex in his dreams or in reality. The way Ginny had taken charge had really gotten him going and Harry’s cock stubbornly called his attention as his mind kept drifting to the way Ginny had smelled, felt, tasted.... He focused on cleaning himself as he tried to calm down but it was very difficult to do as just being in the room interested his traitorous anatomy. Maybe he could get a quick one off before Snape returned?
He reached down through the bubbles and wrapped his fingers around his hardness. Wanking himself quickly, his hand moving as if possessed, he turned his thoughts to the dream. He was just about to blow his load when Snape walked back into the bathroom. Desperately moving to cover himself, Harry overcorrected so that he wouldn't get caught wanking, and ended up falling face first in his tub. Scared that Snape would try to help him up, he quickly jerked his head up out of the water. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"
Snape just stared at him. Harry had the feeling if he could see Snape's eyes, the Death Eater would be looking at him as if he had just turned purple.
"Err . . . I was just . . . rinsing my hair. Um . . . could you hand me a towel, please?"
Snape wordlessly did as he asked. Harry used it to hide his hard-on from Snape and delicately walked back to his room. Snape followed and Harry desperately wished for him to hurry up and leave. Unfortunately, Snape seemed to move in slow motion as he levitated Harry's clothes to rest on the bed and tapped the table to make breakfast appear. As Harry grit his teeth, Snape tucked his wand back in his robes.
"You've been acting strangely all morning." Snape paused by the table, watching Harry suspiciously.
Harry bit out, "I'm fine." He screamed in his head at Snape, ‘Just leave! Just leave!’
Finally, Snape stepped out, heading back towards the bathroom. Harry dropped his towel and ran over to the toilet bowl. He leant forward, pressing his left hand against the top of the toilet's lid while he worked his right hand over his prick as if he was trying to start a fire.
"Oh, fuck!!" He came nearly instantly, his cock jerking in his hand as he painted the toilet water with white strings. He released himself and gasped for breath, clutching the top of the toilet until he had calmed himself. As he straightened, he thought he saw a smear of black disappear to the left side of his cell. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he realised there was no reason for Snape to stay on the right side of his cell. He’d been watching the freak. Scowling, Harry flushed the toilet. He refused to be embarrassed anymore. He was a healthy teenaged boy with ordinary needs. His hard-on gone, he used the toilet properly, washed his hands and then ate a delicious breakfast of fresh waffles, sausage, and orange juice.
Harry was reading about Icarus when Snape returned.
"I have more work for you to do in my lab," Snape said. Harry got up and plodded to the bars. Being in the lab was far more exciting than being in his cell and as long as Snape didn't yell at him he'd much rather be there than stuck reading. Snape chained him and put the blindfold on him again.
"I know where your lab is, so this blindfold is pointless," Harry informed Snape as he followed him through the library.
"And where do you think it is?" asked Snape.
"It's in a separate building to the right of the throne room," replied Harry confidently. When Snape didn't answer he triumphantly grinned. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Snape said nothing. He removed the blindfold once they reached the lab and placed Harry in the same position as last time. Glancing around eagerly; Harry noticed that the room looked the same, except one of the boiling cauldrons was a bright green instead of a dark red. "More plants?"
"Yes." Snape placed a collection of jars that looked identical to the ones he had given Harry for his last task on the table. Instead of a jar, there was a wooden box this time that contained small orangish brown objects. Harry picked one up and rolled it in his fingers. It felt like a small, hardened cherry.
"Place three in each jar," ordered Snape before he stepped across the room to work on a boiling pot of brightly glowing blue goo.
"What is it?"
"Seeds from Aesculus californica, a native of California," Snape lectured as he poured colorful liquids from vials into his cauldron. "It is highly poisonous. Even the nectar is toxic. The Native Americans used it to catch fish by throwing leaves from the plant in small bodies of water. The seeds are harmless as long as you don’t ingest them."
"How would that help them catch the fish?" Harry’s fingers worked quickly and he was so used to his sight being poor, that he was able to do most of his work without looking at the jars, estimating the distances by the placement of his fingers.
"It causes a temporary paralysis of their nervous systems." Snape began slowly stirring one of the boiling cauldrons.
"Why the fascination with Californian plants? Are you planning a trip there?"
"Little is known about the properties of plants in the New World. The populations of magic users are far more concentrated here than over there, based on the fact that pure-blooded wizards and witches were loath to leave their families, their world, to travel to an alien and unknown land," explained Snape as he stirred in slow, unhurried strokes. "Just as Muggle scientists are still discovering new species of plants and their unique properties in the New World, there is a tremendous diversity waiting to be explored by the wizarding world, which is considerably less scientifically advanced than the Muggle world."
"How d'you know so much about these things?" Harry finished a row and moved onto the next.
"I like to research new materials extensively in order to reduce the number of adverse effects. There is nothing more frustrating than spending months thinking you have developed a perfect healing potion only to discover you actually brewed a toxic poison." Snape reduced the flames beneath his cauldron to almost nothing.
"Yeah, I bet that would be annoying," Harry agreed.
Snape put away the vials as Harry completed the last row. He waited impatiently while Snape prepared him for their journey back.
"The stories in that book you gave me are very different than the stories I’ve always heard about those people," said Harry as they walked back to the house.
"That's because those versions of the myths are almost directly translated from the most famous authors of their time period and culture. Most of the Roman myths in that book are translations of Ovid who is, in my opinion, one of the greatest poets of all time. They are taken from his work, The Metamorphoses, which is also about love, although I think you’d find it far more agreeable than Victor Hugo’s work." Snape stopped once they'd reached a point that Harry imagined to be right outside his cell. When Snape took off the blindfold, he found that he was exactly where he'd imagined he'd be.
Walking into his cell, Harry dropped down onto the bed. "Just as long as they don't all die."
Snape chuckled and it was so startling that Harry thought he was coughing for a moment.
"There is death but not to the extent that was present in Mr. Hugo's tome."
"His what?" Harry frowned.
Snape sighed. "His book, Mr. Potter." He conjured food, removed the chain, then left.
This time there was salmon in a white sauce with all sorts of strange herbs and spices. It was quite good and Harry finished it off, along with the potatoes and jelly that were served along with it. There was pumpkin juice again but Harry was getting a bit sick of it, so he just drank the water.
After he finished his meal he stretched out on his bed and read his mythology book. It was strange to read some of the stories because of how different they were then the ones he had been told in primary school. He had always heard of Hercules as a hero but the Hercules in this book was a jerk. He raped women, killed innocent people apparently at random, and seemed more like a jock than a hero. It was strange to think that the Romans and Greeks would regard such an . . . arsehole highly but Harry supposed they were more practical about who they worshipped in those days.
Harry was also startled by the fact that Hercules had both male and female lovers. The male lovers were mentioned in the text just as casually as the female ones, suggesting that the people didn't think much of it. Was Hercules gay or straight? Harry couldn't figure it out. He also found it odd that such a masculine man like Hercules would be portrayed as interested in blokes. The Dursleys had looked down on gays and said that they were perverted men who acted like women. Dudley had often accused Harry of being gay, equating it with femininity.
Harry searched through the book for other mentions of men who had relations with other men or boys and found plenty. Several of the ‘biggest’ gods had male lovers including Zeus and Apollo. It left him confused. He wished Hermione was with him so he could ask her about it.
He closed his book and went to sleep.
Harry woke without remembering his dream. He sprawled out on the bed lazily, then returned to his book. He reread the story of Orpheus which he had glanced at the previous night in his quest to find stories of males who had sex with other males. Orpheus had a strange story. Unlike the other characters who seemed to be indiscriminate about whom they chose for a sex partner, it was said that Orpheus turned to boys after losing his wife to death twice. He couldn't imagine suddenly having sex with blokes if Ginny died, but the author wrote about it as if it were perfectly natural.
Harry was making face while reading about Orpheus’ violent death at the hands of a group of rabid women when Snape arrived.
"Why are you grimacing at the book?" he asked as he stepped into Harry's cell.
"It was a strange story. This guy's wife dies, but he is such a good musician that they allow him to get her back. So he goes in the underworld and they tell him not to look back, but he does and she has to stay dead. Then, he decides to stop having sex with women and have it with blokes and is torn apart by a bunch of crazy women. I can't believe this kind of stuff was normal to them."
"Orpheus." Snape nodded, seemingly nonplussed by anything in the story.
Harry peered at him. It felt odd to be talking about this with Snape but if anyone would know it, he would. "Don't you think it's strange that losing his wife turned him gay?"
"Bisexuality was fairly common among the Greeks and Romans," explained Snape.
"Bi what?" Harry frowned.
"Bisexuality, when a person is sexually attracted to both males and females. If you'll read further in that book, you will discover that it wasn't uncommon for men to take both women and boys as lovers. Generally, older males paired up with younger boys, but it wasn't unheard of for adult males to be intimate with each other." Snape sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.
"So the boy acted like a woman?"
"No, not at all. In fact, males who only were involved with other males were sometimes thought to be the most masculine types of men because they completely eschewed women."
"Is that why Hercules did that?"
The line between Snape's eyebrows deepened. "I don't think he was involved with boys to prove his masculinity if that is what you are asking. I think he was with them simply because he enjoyed them from time to time."
"Oh." He stood. "I'm ready for my bath."
Snape stood up as well. Harry was so used to the routine he did it without thinking. It was a good thing having erotic dreams about other boys didn't make him gay. He tried to imagine living in a culture where being bisexual was the norm. How would dances work? Did girls sleep with other girls like blokes did with blokes? He thought of Ginny lying naked with another girl, and his cock twitched in excitement.
On his way back to the room he thought of something else. "If Hercules was a hero then why did he do so many horrible things? Did they not think rape was a bad thing back then?"
"No, people were just more pragmatic. They saw the darker side of life with a greater intensity than most people do today. Many of them fought in wars themselves and everyone knew at least one person who had. Often in war you have to kill or be killed. People who tried to always do right didn't last very long. It is suicidal to be in any significant conflict and always do what is morally correct." Snape tapped the table to conjure breakfast. "Furthermore, heroes who are perfect are useless. They are an unobtainable ideal without practical application. The wizarding world proclaims you as its grand hero and expects you to live up to that chimeric mirage."
Snape stood up and leaned across the table so that his face was clearer to Harry's vision. His eyes were intense: black and glittering although not with anger but with something else Harry had never seen before. "And if you believe that is what you must be then you will lose. In order for you to survive this war you must use Unforgivables and you must find them justified. Any shirking, any attempt to be the ‘perfect hero’ will result in destruction."
With that grim pronouncement hanging in the air, Snape swept out of the cell.
Harry ate without paying attention to the food he was putting in his mouth. The way Snape had spoken almost seemed to imply that he wanted Harry to win but Harry knew that was impossible. Snape was as evil as Voldemort. Then again, while Snape wasn't outright helping Harry, he was certainly not being nearly as bad as any of the other Death Eaters would've been. In fact, he had been nice to Harry in a few small ways. He didn't even insist that Harry call him ‘sir’ like he did in the classroom. If Harry had been told that he would end up Snape's captive a year ago he would've thought that the Death Eater would’ve made his life as miserable as possible. It was strange, Snape had been a normal git near the beginning, but lately he had almost been tolerable to have around.
Harry finished his meal and then returned to his bed to read.
Normally, the myth book was a distraction but this time, the stories he came across just depressed him further. He needed to hunt down the Horcruxes, but instead he was stuck in a prison. While things hadn't been going wonderfully with his two best friends, they had done pretty well for a couple of teenagers who hadn't been given too many clues. He remembered Ron's return, the acquisition of the Sword of Gryffindor, and the legend of the Deathly Hallows. He tried to make his jumbled mind remember what exactly had happened before he woke up in the cell, but he wasn't sure.
How had he ended up here? He had no idea if Ron and Hermione were even still alive and only assumed they were based on the fact that no Death Eater had tried to hurt him by mentioning their deaths. He felt sure that they wouldn't kill off his two best friends and not brag to him about it. His inability to not know what was happening to his friends was the most frustrating part about being held prisoner. He'd take twice as much torture, even torture from Malfoy, if it meant that he'd learn if Ron and Hermione were doing well. The Death Eaters probably didn't know however, so there was no point in trying to strike a bargain. Snape would probably know if Ron and Hermione were killed, but Harry worried he might lie and claim their deaths just to be cruel to Harry.
Harry kept waiting for him to return to his true nature. Snape's calmness and lack of insults unhinged him. He felt as though the Death Eater was storing up all his evilness to unleash upon him just when he'd become complacent. Harry didn't trust him and hadn't relaxed his guard for one second. He had decided to play along with Snape's game and pretend that he didn't spend every waking moment wanting to kill the Death Eater, but if his magic and wand were returned to him, he knew exactly what he'd do. At least Snape was here and away from Ginny and Harry's other friends. He couldn't kill anymore of Harry's loved ones while he was stuck in here as well.
He needed to escape! Had he told Ron and Hermione what the Hufflepuff cup looked like? Had he mentioned Nagini to them? The fact that one of the Horcruxes was thought to have belonged to Ravenclaw? He couldn't remember exactly what he'd said and what he hadn't. Voldemort was right - Dumbledore had been a fool to place the entire hopes of the wizarding world on three young teenagers who hadn’t even completed their last year of school. His only hope was that whoever sent the deer Patronus would continue to help his best friends.
If only he had his magic! He would send his Patronus to Ron and Hermione as the Order did. Why hadn't any of them sent theirs to him? Was the prison so heavily guarded that not even a Patronus could get in, or did they all think him dead? That was a depressing thought. If they thought he was dead, then he could be stuck here forever if he was the only one who could defeat Voldemort. Forever imprisoned to be tortured like clockwork.... If he didn't get out soon, he'd never survive.
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