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

Nights of Gethsemane by StarCrossed (9/65)

When Snape woke Harry up in the morning for breakfast, Harry had more questions for him.

"Why doesn't my scar hurt anymore?"

Snape tapped the table with his wand. "You haven't been in the cupboard for a while now...."

"You are so hypocritical, you know." Harry crossed his arms, determined to win this one. "You say that Hogwarts is a bad school because people are taught to do and not think and that the wizarding world needs more people who question ‘why’ and ‘how’ and stuff. Yet whenever I question you about things, you tell me to shut up or threaten me."

Snape stared at him for a moment. "I think that's the most intelligent thing you've ever said, Potter. I didn't know you had it in you."

Harry beamed. Who would have thought Snape could give compliments.

"Unfortunately, you are still wrong in your assessment. I'll upgrade your IQ by a few points to slightly above your age, but you are still well below average. Figure out why I am not hypocritical and I will reconsider your IQ, perhaps raising it close to normal."

Harry scowled at the disappearing smudge of black. "I'm going to hex you blind when I get out!"

Harry thought about his questions as he ate his meal - a delicious roast with mashed potatoes. An amazing gravy had been dribbled over both and he couldn’t get enough of it, slowly licking it off his spoon after he ate each bite. Maybe Voldemort had ordered Snape not to tell Harry things. Snape never disobeyed his master, and Harry didn't doubt that if Voldemort had ordered Harry killed, Snape would have done so himself. Snape loved giving lectures and telling Harry how stupid he was, but if Voldemort had told Snape not to tell Harry about certain things, then Snape wouldn't.

Harry felt confident that the reason his scar didn't hurt anymore was because Voldemort was employing Occlumency against him. But why? Why hadn't he done it earlier when Harry had been on the run? It didn't make sense to defend oneself strongly against a prisoner but not against a wizard determined to destroy you. By the time Snape returned, Harry was sure Voldemort was hiding something important. He didn't badger Snape with questions as the Death Eater remained outside the bars and said, "Time for your bath."

"I want to go to your lab again." Harry took off his shirt, walked over and stuck his hands through the bars.

"So you can make more poisons for me to use on your friends?" Snape stepped back and the bars opened.

"It's better than hanging out in here reading books." Harry passed through.

"You've been remarkably . . . resilient." Snape spoke in a hesitant manner as if it were painful to say something to Harry that might be interpreted as a compliment.

"I don't think so." Harry frowned as he settled in the tub and started his bath. "I let Malfoy and Avery get to me."

"Avery?" Snape asked.

"Yeah." Harry was unwilling to explain further. "Malfoy didn’t even have to touch me, and I was scared of him although I don't know why. I hate that. I should be stronger than that. I asked him for those needles, I didn't hold out."

There was a long pause before Snape said, "I'm sure Lucius saw that as a sign of your submission, but in a way you had authority. You appraised the situation, calculated that it would be less arduous to expedite the process, and made a conscious decision to choose an option you viewed as less deleterious in a time of crisis."

"I didn't understand half of that." Harry scrubbed his chest.

Snape sighed. "You made a deliberate choice and your ability to do so gave you power." He moved away from his spot on the wall to stand closer to the towel rack. "I've seen other prisoners break after a week in the cupboard. You are the only one who has emerged smiling."

"That's just because I was used to it," said Harry dismissively, but it made him think. Snape never gave compliments but it sounded as though he were saying that Harry had been pretty brave. Harry didn't feel brave. If he had been, he would've kicked Malfoy in the nuts.

Snape seemed to read his thoughts because he added. "You don't really give up control if you do it willingly. Sometimes submitting takes far more courage and bravery than resistance."

"I'm not giving up." Harry glared at him.

Snape pulled a towel off the rack and dropped it on Harry's head. "I didn't ask that of you."

Harry stood up and climbed out of the tub as he dried himself off. Snape remained near the rack and when Harry stood on the rug he was so close to Snape he could've elbowed him. Snape smelled like his lab, a musky scent of earth and herbs. Harry pulled on his bottoms and headed back towards his cell.

"If you didn't, then why did you bring it up?" asked Harry.

"I was speaking of something else, Potter." Snape opened the bars for Harry and he stepped through. "If you openly show defiance, it will only result in more torture. If you pretend to submit, you can appease their need for dominance and save yourself pain. Think of how tall trees bend in the wind. If they tried to stay rigid, they would break after a single gale. By allowing the wind to bend them, they can sometimes withstand hurricanes."

"But that's giving them what they want," Harry protested, although what Snape said did make sense in a way.

"Then you will be broken," warned Snape as he left.

Harry picked up his myth book and lay on the bed. Snape had said ‘their,’ which seemed to imply that he didn't think of himself as being the same as the other Death Eaters. That didn't jibe with how Snape always acted around Voldemort and how he spoke of him. Snape had threatened Harry many times with pain, which meant that he thought that it was effective in getting Harry to do what he wanted. Was this another mind game? Did Snape want him to pretend to be obedient to the Death Eaters in the hope that the false obedience would cause Harry to eventually fall into real obedience? He needed Ron and Hermione to strategize; Snape played a very confusing game.

Harry let his questions swirl around in his head for hours, but he was unable to come up with any answers. He grew hungry and wished for Snape to bring him dinner. When the Death Eater didn't show up, he opened his myth book and read to distract himself. He was still reading when someone strode in through the library door. Harry assumed it was Snape and didn't turn around.

"Reading and wearing clothes," Avery sneered from the other side of the bars, "Severus is spoiling you." Harry whirled around in shock at the Death Eater’s voice, the book falling to the floor.

"Concretio Ferratilis!" yelled Avery and Harry’s wrists were jerked back as the chains formed, binding him to the bed posts. He struggled, tugging on them as Avery slipped through the bars and strode over to the side of the bed.

"Leave me alone, you bastard!" hissed Harry as he moved his body as far away from the Death Eater as he possibly could.

Avery snaked one long arm across the bed and grabbed Harry's right ankle as Harry kicked him in the arm, hard. Avery pulled Harry's leg towards him and pinned it under one of his as he reached across the bed for the other one. Harry arched his back and pummeled the Death Eater's side with kicks before Avery finally managed to have both of Harry's legs trapped under his own.

"Your struggles only make me harder." Avery told his prey. To show Harry what he meant, he unzipped himself, revealing a short, but thick, veiny cock with a large, dark-red head. Avery was well built, and when Harry began struggling again, his cock grew even thicker. He pulled out a knife and cut Harry’s shirt off, pinching Harry's nipples cruelly with his fingers.

"STOP IT!! GET OFF ME!" yelled Harry as he tried to twist away from Avery's touch. Avery cut the drawstring of Harry's bottoms and moved back to sit on Harry's calves so he could yank down Harry's bottoms and expose him. He shifted his weight and spread Harry's legs.

Harry shook his head and tried to kick Avery. He stilled only when he felt the blade press into his skin right below his balls, drawing blood. Having the knife against his bullocks, even if it was only the flat side, made him very nervous.

Avery grinned down at Harry with a wolf's smile. "I think I'll cut all this junk off and make myself another hole. I'll fuck you like the bitch you are." He bent down and bit one of Harry's nipples, his teeth tearing skin.

Harry screamed and tried to evade the knife pressing into him.

"Get off of him, Avery." Snape's voice was harsh. Relief stormed through Harry. Never had he been so glad to have Snape as a prison guard.

Avery reluctantly moved off of Harry and tucked himself back in his trousers. "If our Lord insists that I do it in front of him, then I will do it there." He turned and left the cell.

Snape healed Harry's injuries and then released his bonds.

"Thank you." Harry touched his balls to reassure himself that Avery hadn't cut them off.

"Don't," said Snape sharply as he spelled the chain between Harry's cuffs and pulled him to his feet. "The Dark Lord is waiting." He took Harry’s arm and led him out of his cell.

Harry stumbled after him, too shaken up to say or do anything else. When they reached the top of the stairs, Snape paused in the hallway. Turning to Harry, he gripped his upper arms in his strong hands. He stood quietly for a minute and stared at Harry with an unreadable expression behind his dark eyes.

"Starry very," Snape finally said.

"What?" Harry blinked in confusion.

"Remember that," Snape commanded in a soft voice, "Starry very."

Harry was about to ask him what the hell he was babbling about when Snape pulled him through the doors to the throne room and threw him in the middle of the floor. Yaxley, Voldemort, and Avery were waiting on the dais.

"Avery got started without us, my Lord," tattled Snape in a disapproving tone.

"He looked so tasty in the bed," said Avery. "I assure you that I was going to bring him up before I did anything serious." He bowed low.

"My Lord, may I ask a favour?" Snape bowed even lower as if it were some sort of contest.

"A favour, Severus?" asked Voldemort in a voice that clearly expressed his disapproval.

"Yes, my Lord. I regret having angered you, and I understand that your wrath was well-deserved. I'd like to make that up to you by taking something for you, the act of which I think you will enjoy immensely." Snape said, his head still bowed.

"And what is that?"

"Harry Potter's virginity."

Harry felt as though a Dementor had suddenly entered the room. He couldn’t breathe as he stared at Snape in horror. How could he? He hadn't saved Harry from Avery; he had just wanted him for himself!

Voldemort laughed, and the horrible cackling sound filled the room and made Harry shake.

"Severus!" Avery hissed. "It is my turn tonight!"

Snape turned on him. "You attempted to do it in private, denying our Lord the pleasure of it. You will also give him your disease and no one else will be able to use him after you."

"How dare you!" Avery whipped out his wand. "I came to you for a cure in private!"

"Enough!" commanded Voldemort, and Avery reluctantly put away his wand. Harry tightened his fingers into fists. They were fighting over who was going to hurt him! He struggled for his magic, trying to reach it with all his strength. The runes squiggled but held fast, preventing him from even touching it. Never had he felt so hopeless, so powerless.

"Severus, I am still angry with you for your earlier behaviour." Voldemort stared down at the Death Eater on the floor before him.

"Yes, my Lord, I am sorry, my Lord." Snape lowered his head to the floor again.

"However, Avery just committed an equal sin. And of my servants, you have been the most faithful and have given me the greatest gifts. The only reason I give this gift to you now is because I know that you have never deliberately sought to conceal your behaviour from me as most of my followers have. For your honesty and loyalty, I grant you this reward." Voldemort's words made the ice inside Harry's chest grow even colder and fill him completely. He had known this would happen. Had known Snape was storing up his evil to perform one unspeakable act. Still, even though he had expected it, it hurt so much he almost wanted to cry. He was too stunned to do anything but sit there like a statue as Snape straightened.

"Thank you, my Lord. I will never forget this, my Lord." Snape stood and walked over to Harry. He took out his wand and summoned a pillow from a nearby couch. He floated it over to the floor before Voldemort and transfigured it into a flat mattress.

It was the sight of that mattress that flung Harry into action. Jumping to his feet, he turned and ran. Magical ropes wrapped around his ankles, sending him tumbling to the floor, and yanking him back towards Snape. He pulled hard against them, trying to get away. When Snape's hand closed around Harry's upper arm, he yelled, "NO! GET OFF ME!" and kicked as hard as he could.

With surprisingly strong hands, Snape pulled him up and dragged him towards the pillow. He flailed as hard as he could and managed to bite Snape's arm hard enough to tear skin, before he was pushed face down into the transfigured pillow.

Snape pressed a hand down on his back to hold him in place as Harry flailed and screamed. Snape muttered a spell and bonds wrapped around his ankles, spreading them apart while another pair worked their way around his upper thighs and pulled him up on his knees. A cloth wrapped around his neck and Snape yanked hard on it, forcing Harry up on his hands to avoid being choked. With his head forced up, he saw Voldemort watching him with a triumphant smile on his reptilian face. Not wanting to see his triumph, Harry screwed his eyes shut tightly. He struggled against his bonds, but he was held in place, unable to move more than a few inches.

A tingling sensation work its way through his rectum, followed by the feel of something wet splashing through his arse. Something spongy yet firm pressed between his buttocks and he realised with panic that it was Snape's cock. He's doing it. He's actually doing it. The thought was so terrifying that he didn't remember how to breathe, and almost choked himself on the cloth around his neck as he tried to pull away.

Snape slowly pressed against him, and pain filled Harry, even though he hadn’t been penetrated. He couldn’t take it. It was too big. Snape gripped his hip and then a sharp burst of pain blinded him. He shook as Snape speared him, his thickness tearing Harry apart. Snape moved slowly and it was as if he had miles of cock that kept invading with a terrible precision. Harry whimpered as he waited for it to finish and the burning pain to subside. It hurt. More than the whipping. More than the needles. More than the Cruciatus.

Suddenly Voldemort entered his mind and this dual rape was too much. Voldemort was enjoying Harry’s torment, feeding off his feelings of pain and humiliation. If he had had access to his magic, he knew he would've torn the room to pieces just then. As it was, he could do nothing to destroy Voldemort. However, he wasn't completely powerless. He couldn't physically stop them from hurting him, but he wasn't going to let them rip his mind apart!

Harry focused on locking away the memories he didn't want Voldemort to see. He couldn't lock away the most recent ones or Voldemort would grow suspicious and order Snape to hurt Harry even more, so he left those for his enemies and focused on hiding everything else. He built walls around the ones he wanted buried and pushed forward the most recent memories of Lucius and Avery because he knew Voldemort would enjoy those most. It was a welcome distraction from the pain in his arse, and he concentrated on only thinking of locking up his mind.

He was almost undone when Snape started to move, thrusting hard into his abused flesh. He had expected to get used to the feel of foreign flesh shoved into his own, but the pain intensified with each thrust, as if Snape were fucking him with a knife rather than a cock. Choking back his tears and his pain, he focused harder on his mind. He was relieved to find that, even with his physical and emotional torment, he could now control what Voldemort saw. He felt the powerful wizard shift through the memories, and he concentrated on selecting parts of each one to reveal and hiding sections he didn't want Voldemort to discover. He deliberately left most memories of Snape tucked away because of how much pain it caused him to think about any of them in which Snape was even somewhat nice to him.

After what seemed like forever, Snape finally pulled out, tearing Harry more than he had when he first pushed in. Something warm and sticky splashed on Harry’s lower back, and he hoped to hell that it was come rather than his own blood. Snape moved away from Harry and undid all the bonds except for the chains that bound his hands.

Too exhausted from fighting both mentally and physically to move, Harry collapsed against the mattress and lay there shaking, with his face buried in his arms. Voldemort was saying something to Snape and the other Death Eaters. He was probably telling them how much he enjoyed the show. Harry lay without moving until Snape grabbed his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. Harry stumbled after him as he was led back to his personal prison. It hurt to walk and he almost fell down the stairs before Snape grew frustrated and cast Mobilicorpus on him. He was floated to the bathroom and placed in the tub. He looked down at the blood coating his inner thighs while Snape turned on the shower and washed off the blood.

He had to get clean. He had to wash away what happened. Grabbing the soap, he scrubbed himself furiously, trying to remove all trace of blood, even though more kept dripping down his thighs. When the bath water was only mildly pink, Snape turned off the water and let the rest of it drain away. He placed a towel on the edge of the tub by Harry and left the room. Harry grabbed it and used it to cover himself but did not move to get out of the tub. He kept expecting to wake up from this horrible nightmare. It couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening to him.

Snape returned after a bit and placed a vial on the edge of the tub before moving to his spot at the far end of the bathroom. "A painkiller and a sleeping potion." His voice came from behind Harry.

Harry picked up the vial and turned it over in his fingers. The dreamlike state which had possessed him when Snape revealed his true intentions shattered and anger flooded through him so hot and strong, he couldn't see for a moment. He spun around and threw the vial at Snape as hard as he could, but his eyes made it difficult for him to aim, and the blood loss made him weak, and it smashed into the wall about a foot away from the intended target.

"FUCK YOU, YOU ARSEHOLE! I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" Right now, Harry didn't even care about Voldemort - he wanted to kill Snape so badly he couldn't stop shaking with rage. If Harry had had the strength he would've launched himself at the Death Eater and beaten him to a pulp. He wanted Snape to approach him. Wanted Snape to try to touch him so that he could tear him to pieces.

Snape realised that he wouldn't be able to approach Harry without at least getting a finger bit off, so he spelled open the cabinet and took out two small vials. He floated them over to the edge of the tub. "At least take the one on the right, the painkiller." He spoke in a soothing voice as though Harry were a dangerous animal. "There is no need for you to be in pain, and I don't want to have to force you."

"YOU ALREADY DID, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" yelled Harry as he threw the two potions at Snape. Snape stopped them with magic, floating them into his outstretched palm. That display of magic drove Harry so wild with anger, he started sobbing hot, furious tears. The runes on his cuffs were squiggling angrily as his magic tried to return to him and if he had a knife, he would've cut off his left arm to have at least half of his magic back so that he could destroy Snape.


Harry’s body went limp, although his mind continued to rage. Of course that bastard used magic to control him - to force him. Now he'd probably have another go at him.

Snape stepped forward and opened the potion bottles. He tilted Harry’s head back, opening his mouth before pouring the potions down his throat. Harry was helpless to stop him, helpless to do anything but lay there as Snape massaged his throat to make him swallow before floating him back to his prison.

He was placed face up on his bed, and Snape did not release him from his spells until Harry heard the library door close. Harry sat up, noticing two objects on the bedside table. His bottoms and a book: Billy Budd by Herman Melville. With a cry of rage Harry threw it across the room and was delighted when he heard a loud crack as the spine hit the wall.

Shaking with fury, he pulled on his bottoms, wincing at the pain in his arse. He would kill the fucking bastard, tear him from limb to limb, and burn the pieces so that all that was left of Snape would be a greasy stain. He pulled the covers tightly around himself and thought of ways to kill Snape until the sleeping potion kicked in.


He woke to the smell of food. Harry searched for Snape but didn't see him so he cautiously got out of bed and approached the table. All of his favourite foods from the dishes Snape had given him were laid out for him. If Snape thought that ordering his house-elves to make Harry's favourite dishes would make him lose his anger, the git was out of his mind. Harry was unable to resist eating the orange, tangy fruit but he ignored everything else. When he saw the new book by the leg of the table, he kicked it back into the wall, and returned back to his bed. He picked up the myth book and slowly tore out pages of myths he had already read. He wrinkled them up in balls and threw them out through the bars. The book was very old and probably very valuable, which is why he made sure to crinkle the pages as much as possible so that it could never be put right again. If he had had access to magic he would've sent the whole thing up in flames. He wanted Snape to show up so he could tear up the book in front of him, but after hours of waiting he realised that it would be a while before Snape showed up and tucked what was left of the book under his mattress.

The fruit hadn't been drugged and he was starving so he cautiously approached the table and ate a few more items. After he felt full, he returned to his bed and waited for Snape to come so he could rage at the Death Eater. Snape did not arrive and Harry eventually fell into a fitful sleep.


When he woke, Snape was standing outside the bars. The wadded pages of the book had been cleaned up and a new set of dishes were on the table.

Harry sneered when he saw Snape. "You may think you won but I mastered Occlumency. You can't touch me now. Try it."

"Legilimens!" Snape was in his mind but Harry locked everything away, only showing Snape memories of when he and his friends had made fun of the greasy bastard. He let Snape see what he wanted him to see, then threw him out.

"I mastered it last night when you raped me, so don't try to tell me that I can't do it when I'm in pain or overly emotional," Harry triumphantly informed him. "You were wrong about me."

There was a long pause before Snape said, "I didn’t want to hurt you."

"YOU DO!!" Harry leapt up from the bed and dashed over to the table. He grabbed up a piece of bread and threw it at arsehole. "YOU KILLED DUMBLEDORE!" Seeking something harder to throw, he ran over to snatch up his mouthwash bottle and hurled it through the bars. "YOU KILLED SIRIUS!" He threw his toothpaste. "YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!" He hurried back to the table to find something else to toss as Snape strode off. He snatched up his cup of pumpkin juice and tossed it out the bars at the retreating figure.

The bastard was a fucking liar. Of course he wanted to hurt Harry. His entire life he'd done nothing but hurt Harry. He'd told Voldemort about the prophecy, he'd goaded Sirius into leaving his home, he'd killed Dumbledore, he probably was responsible for Harry's capture, and he had pretended to be nice to Harry in order to stage his little fake rescue and rape. Voldemort was evil, but not nearly as evil as Snape. Voldemort had offered Lily a chance to live and he'd only gone after Harry because of the prophecy. Snape, on the other hand, had deliberately done everything that he could to torture Harry all because he had fought with Harry's father at school. It wasn't enough to kill James Potter. He obviously wanted everyone and everything associated with him destroyed. He'd even tried to kill Lupin, who had done nothing more than be James Potter's friend.

He had previously decided to kill Voldemort before Snape, but now he wanted to destroy the Death Eater first. Imagining the various forms of torture he'd perform on Snape before he killed him calmed him.

Once Harry had stopped shaking with anger, he ate his favourites. The orange fruit had reappeared and he ate it slowly, savouring the taste. When he finished eating, he used the toilet, washed his hands, and was about to brush his teeth when he remembered that his toothpaste was out in the hall. He felt foolish about throwing his toothpaste away, although he did not regret how he treated Snape. He wished he'd had something harder to throw at him. Maybe he'd throw the book next time, but only if he got close enough to make sure it hit the Death Eater in the face. He approached the bars and spotted his toothpaste lying by the opposite wall. There was no way he'd be able to reach it, even if he used his blanket.

Harry returned to sit on his bed. He didn't want to read the myth book, but there wasn't really anything else to do. Besides, as soon as he finished the chapters he hadn't read he could tear up the entire book. His mind made up, Harry read until his eyes grew heavy and he went to sleep.


He dreamed about the Horcruxes again. Hermione and Ron had found them all but needed Harry’s help destroying them. He was stuck in his cell and his friends were on the other side. For some reason, he couldn’t put his hands through the bars anymore. He tried to tell them what to do, but he could only speak Parseltongue and Ron kept saying, “Too many S-es, mate.”

He woke and desperately had to pee. Padding over to the toilet, he noticed that more offerings had been laid out on the table. Snape had given him a new shirt in addition to food. He ignored it, not wanting to take anything else from Snape. He did his business and washed his hands, only to spot that his mouthwash and toothpaste had been replaced. The idea of Snape walking around in his cell while he was sleeping creeped him out and he tried not to think about it.

He ate a full breakfast: eggs, sausage, and crepes with strawberry jam and whipped cream, along with orange juice to drink. Unfortunately, there wasn't any of the fruit he so loved this time. He was finishing off his orange juice when Snape stepped into the hallway. Harry put down his empty cup, upset that he no longer had anything to throw at the bastard.

"Would you like to go for a bath now?" asked Snape.

"Like hell I'm doing that with you around," Harry said. "Piss off."

"Listen, I-" Snape began but Harry interrupted him when he overturned the table with strength he didn't know he had. The remains of his breakfast scattered all over the floor.


Snape wisely decided not to press the matter further and left. Harry glared after him and then sat back down in his chair. After he calmed down, he returned the table to its proper position and cleaned up the food from the floor, disposing the remains down the toilet, since he didn't know what else to do with them. He used the shirt to clean the liquids and then tossed it out of the cell.

He was too enraged to read but didn't know what else to do. He exercised, but that only increased his hatred. The monster burning in his chest was so huge and so persistent, he felt as though he were going to explode. He paced around the cell angrily and then stopped when he saw the Billy Budd book. He picked it up and returned to his bed. Tearing out the pages slowly, he rolled them into balls. He kept them on his bed, deciding that he would throw them at so that he could watch Snape's reaction at seeing his property destroyed.

He was almost finished when he saw the words ‘starry Vere’ in a poem. It read:

"This 'tis to have been from the first

In a domestic heaven nursed,

Under the discipline severe

Of Fairfax and the starry Vere."

Starry Vere, Starry very. Harry had assumed Snape was saying something about Avery when he told him those words, not understanding what else it could mean. He read the rest of the page but didn't understand what the words meant. He uncrinkled the pages he had taken out and set about restoring the book so that he could read it.

Harry spent the rest of the night reading the book slowly. He finished it and lay back in his bed with thoughts swirling in his head. He didn't know what to think anymore. After many long hours, he finally fell asleep.

[[A difficult entry to write! I edited it seconds before I posted it. If you are interested, you can read a summary of Billy Budd here]]

Chapter 1 ... 10 11

Tags: nights of gethsemane - fic
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