When the Dark Lord ordered Severus to give Potter’s leash to the teenager, Severus at first thought he’d misheard. Why wasn’t he being awarded for his splendid performance with the Veritaserum? Was it because of the ruined Clone Potion? That wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have the ability to collect his potion supplies himself like he used to. The fight? He still held Potter’s trust.
“Come,” said the Dark Lord to him, waving his hand towards the chair to his right. “Sit.”
Although it was a reward to sit at the Dark Lord’s right hand, to be granted permission to torture Potter remained far above it. Reluctantly, Severus stepped up onto the dais and took the chair. He managed to say, “Thank you, my Lord,” although he felt anything but grateful.
“When will the clone be ready?”
“If my supplies are untainted, then perhaps Monday. It depends on how long I’m forced to heal the boy after tonight.” Which is why he should’ve been given to me.
“Don’t worry,” said the Dark Lord. “I’ve told them that they mustn’t use magic. Tell me what still needs to be done with the potion.”
As Severus ran through the brewing steps, he glanced back over to the teenagers, only to see that one had unzipped his pants. Severus shot a look of alarm at the Dark Lord, who watched the scene idly, his face impassive. Apparently, he’d been so displeased with the disruption of the Clone Potion, he’d decided to punish Severus for it by taking away his toy. Not only that, but, knowing Potter, the boy would refuse and all their work to convince the Dark Lord that he had been broken would be for naught.
But Potter did not refuse. Instead, he reached for the Death Eater’s cock and willingly sucked it into his mouth, his expression as bland as if he were eating lunch rather than being raped in public. He’d become so used to being raped by Severus that rape by another party didn’t kick up his instincts to fight. Others filtered in and out of the room, some watching with disgust, others with amusement. Before, Severus had been able to keep the boy’s sexual degradation private - after all, only Avery, the Dark Lord, and Yaxley had witnessed the throne room rape. Now, everyone in the wizarding world would not only know that Potter had been turned into a sex toy, but that he engaged in it without any sort of fuss. Before, Severus had denied any sort of sexual activity with Potter, but how could he pretend it hadn’t happened now? Everyone who watched the scene had to presume that Potter’s nonchalance over sucking cock came from being forced to do the same to Severus.
If it wasn’t bad enough that the public would soon be aware of Potter’s rape, how could Severus possibly hold on to his post at Hogwarts? A child rapist should never be allowed to remain Headmaster. McGonagall would be the natural choice for Headmistress, although she lacked the political clout to keep Lucius in line. He’d sworn two oaths in his life that he’d never wanted to break - to keep Lily’s son safe and to protect Hogwarts. He’d failed at both.
“He’ll please anyone, won’t he?” said the Dark Lord.
The sinking coldness in Severus’s stomach exploded in white hot flames and, before he could stop himself, he snapped, “If you wish to kill me, you might as well do it now. Although I’d never turn against you, I cannot remain your servant when you do this to me.”
The Dark Lord turned to stare at him with narrowed red eyes and asked, “Do what? Deal with my captive however I wish?”
His instincts screamed at him to stop, to plan, to back down, but heat surged through him so hot and so thick his hands shook, and it took everything he had not to start casting curses. “I’ve been stuck here, in this prison and I thought, foolishly, I see now, that my reward for remaining imprisoned, even though I’ve been nothing but loyal, has been the boy. When I had him, I may not have had my freedom, but I had proof that you recognised the sacrifices I’ve made for you. Now I see that my access to him meant nothing at all. If he’s to be given to these . . . these children, to men like Avery, then all along I’ve been punished for my loyalty and devotion. What do you want me to do? Make the boy ally himself with me? You know as well as I that he could not have passed that interview unless he believed what he said. He trusts me. Build the Clone Potion? I tried. I nearly had it. I warned you that my supplies were questionable. I’ve given you over twenty years of service and everything I can, including countless spells. I-”
The Dark Lord held up a hand. “Enough. Do you want exclusive sexual access?”
After that rant no punishment? No retaliation? Just an even look and a question? Sensing that he’d stepped into a trap, but unable to avoid it, he answered, “...Yes.”
“Then no one else may orally or anally sodomize him but you.”
There had to be catch. Why was the Dark Lord being so . . . reasonable? “Thank you, my Lord.”
The Dark Lord leaned back in his chair and the expression on his face almost looked like satisfaction, although Severus couldn’t imagine why he’d be pleased.
“Go fetch the boy. You may torture him tonight.”
Not only was he not punished, but rewarded? Not wanting to waste a second in case the Dark Lord changed his mind, Severus bowed low. “Thank you, my Lord.” He hurried from the dais and snatched Potter’s leash away from the teens.
“We weren’t finished!” protested one and Severus rounded on him, pinning him with a stare. “The Dark Lord has given me permission. If you have a problem with his decisions, perhaps you should take it up with him.”
Grumbling under their breath, they slunk off.
Triumphant, Severus turned back to Potter, who knelt on the floor, looking at Severus’s crotch expectantly. If Severus had his way, no one would ever sexually touch Potter in public again. It never should’ve been done to him in the first place. “On your hands and knees.”
Obediently, Potter shifted to his hands and knees, bending down his shoulders and offering up his arse. He expected to be raped and he didn’t put up a fight. To him, it was just another form of torture. He’d become so used to being sexually degraded, it no longer bothered him. Severus struck him with the whipping spell across his buttocks and he yelped, discretely closing his legs.
Putting his disgust and hate into the whipping, Severus struck Potter again and again until his back had been bloodied enough that Severus could excuse returning him to his cage. Turning to the Dark Lord, who wore a crooked smile, Severus tugged on Potter’s leash, pulling him over to the throne.
Bowing before the Dark Lord, Severus said, “Thank you, my Lord. I will return him to his cage now.”
The Dark Lord, speaking with Bellatrix, gave a nod of approval and Severus led Potter to the hallway. As soon as the door closed behind them, he Vanished the leash and collar, allowing Potter to stand and walk to his cage on his own.
Outside the throne room, away from the Dark Lord’s eyes, the full implications of what he’d just done hit him hard, making his stomach sink. He had played a dangerous hand. It almost seemed as if the Dark Lord had set up the scenario, hoping to gain a reaction from Severus. A test of his loyalty? A test of how much control he desired over Potter? If so, why?
Absently, he walked behind Potter and when the boy collapsed after stepping through the library door, Severus retrieved an analgesic combined with a sleeping potion. “Take this.”
“What is it?” Potter asked as he uncorked it.
“Different bottle,” commented Potter, but he drank it anyway. As he handed the bottle back to Severus he smiled and said, “I think the dinner party was the worst torture yet.”
He didn’t care. Why should he? He’d been raped at least once a week since that horrible night in the throne room. It didn’t matter if Severus or any other Death Eater raped him. Why should it? And Severus had wanted to rape him more. He’d wanted to spend a whole night sexually assaulting a child. It hadn’t been enough for him to rape Potter once between torture sessions, he’d wanted to degrade him more often.
His breath hitching, his pulse quickening, Potter lay still, feigning disinterest.
Potter hadn’t been feigning disinterest. He’d been disgusted, repulsed, horrified by what awaited him, but unable to refuse.
As soon as Potter had completely crawled into his cage, Severus closed the bars and headed back to the party. Mulciber approached him for a conversation on the legal changes they’d made, but he couldn’t concentrate.
A light brush of fingertips at the head of that growing cock sent a slight jolt through Potter’s body and he sucked in a breath.
He’d been projecting his own sick desires on Potter, imagining him to be more responsive than he actually was.
Potter rubbed back against him, the movement of his body pressing his back against Severus’s cock.
Potter’s body had been trained to respond to sexual stimuli. How had he been so foolish to mistake physical reactions for sexual interest? He’d let his own libido get in the way.
His eyes clenched tightly shut, Potter held himself stiffly. Had he decided to make this difficult?
How difficult it must have been for Potter to clamp down his revulsion and allow himself to be repeatedly raped. He’d done it though. After Severus had accused him of being too emotional to hide anything, he’d proven that he could mask his revulsion so well, not even Severus could tell the truth.
He’d come too far to stop, but luckily he knew an easy way to make Potter give in.
He’d taken what he wanted without care or regard for Potter’s feelings. He’d treated him as a sex toy, a pet, an object. It would have been better had he fucked the clone. At least when the clone didn't care about being raped it would be natural, instead of a sign of permanent, sick damage. What had he done?
In his desire to save Potter from Avery, he’d given him to a worse monster - himself.
As soon as Potter woke, he removed the bandages around his torso. The whipping spell Severus had invented was designed to fade from his body quickly, so it didn’t bother Severus that Potter removed the bandages. It bothered him that Potter left his clothes alone. Nudity no longer concerned him. After all, what use did a sex toy have for clothing?
Severus remained in his lab until it would look suspicious if he didn’t feed Potter breakfast and take him out for training. He marched down to the cellar and, when he saw Potter’s nudity in person, he snapped, “Get dressed.”
Slowly, Potter fetched his clothing. “Are we going somewhere?”
Not anytime soon. “There won’t be any visitors today,” Severus said by way of answer. He summoned tea for himself.
After dressing, Potter returned to the table where he ravaged his breakfast. In between bites he asked, “How come I don’t hurt?”
“I invented a spell that causes excruciating pain, yet fades fairly quickly. You should be completely free of its effects by now.”
“That’s neat,” said Potter. “You don’t have to make it very painful, you know. I can always fake it, I’m good at that.”
Better than Severus had realised, which was galling to admit. What else had Potter faked convincingly enough?
"Have you learned anything new?" asked Potter.
"Of course I have," scoffed Severus, annoyed by the vagueness of the question. "What do you imagine I do during my rare moments of free time?"
Potter rolled his eyes. "Have you learned anything new about the Hallows or the Horcruxes?"
"I have set plans in motion to obtain ownership of the Elder Wand, should it still be in young Malfoy's possession. His parents have agreed to allow him to visit for weekly tutoring." Narcissa had only agreed to bring Draco over for one weekend, but after this weekend, Severus would have control of the three Hallows and then he could end this nonsense.
"Brilliant." Potter grinned. "D'you think you could train both of us at the same time?"
"Don't be stupid," Severus said. "He's-"
"I don't mean it like that. You could have him cast spells on me."
"I knew what you meant, and don't interrupt." Severus fixed him with a glare. "As I've told you countless times, it is better you remain away from the other Death Eaters, even relatively harmless ones such as Draco.” He watched as Potter raised his spoon held tight in his fist, causing most of the food to slop off onto the plate. “Can't you eat without spilling food everywhere?"
"It's very difficult to eat omelettes with a spoon."
"I'm sure even a simpleton like you could manage to figure it out if you actually tried."
His eyes narrowing, Potter put down his spoon and Severus braced for a confrontation. Instead of fighting, Potter picked up his cup of orange juice and downed it. Wiping off his mouth, he returned to his meal, ignoring Severus entirely.
For Potter to be so calm now suggested that the memory removal had bothered him more than the rapes. In this sick situation, not even forced oral from strangers could spark his temper. It wasn’t right.
Trying to ignore the churning in his stomach, Severus waited by the bars whilst Potter hurried through his morning routine. As soon as he’d finished, Severus took him up to the training room.
As they walked, Potter asked, “Why did you use Muffliato on me last night?”
"The Dark Lord would have expected it. Besides, it would be best for you to not overhear comments about yourself. You might lose your temper." They stepped into the training room and Severus cast spells over the kappa bladders.
"Look, just because I lose my temper around you doesn't mean I'll lose it around them," Potter said firmly. "Didn't you see how well I performed last night?"
A performance. That’s all it was. Just another rape. If Potter was regularly raped by Severus Snape, why should he care what a few more Death Eaters did to him? "I did," he answered tersely. "But you still need work." Unwilling to speak about the subject more, he flicked his wand and the attack began.
Although he normally used Potter’s ‘training’ sessions to catch up on his reading, he couldn’t concentrate. Something horrible had happened the night before and it wasn’t just Potter’s rape and subsequent lack of reaction to it. Severus had been completely unhinged by the Dark Lord’s behaviour. He’d been tested and he’d no idea if he’d passed or failed. The prize of torturing Potter suggested he passed, but one could never be certain with the Dark Lord. Had the Dark Lord deliberately provoked him to see if he’d fight for Potter? If so, why? The debacle with Avery should have been proof enough that he’d do everything in his power to maintain control of Potter.
Distracted, unable to concentrate, he mentally replayed the entire night over and over, trying to see if he’d missed some important clue. When Potter, presumably as eager to avoid Severus’s company as Severus was to avoid his, suggested they retire early, he was all too happy to oblige.
As Severus changed the sheets and did a bit of laundry, Potter took a shower. After Severus had finished his chores, he headed to the shower to tell Potter to hurry it up, only to be greeted by the sight of Potter with his dick in hand and a sloppy smile on his face.
Any remaining doubts vanished: Potter had been unaffected by the forced oral. He yelled, “Hurry it up!” before he headed from the room, returning to Potter’s cage. How could he begin to repair this? Could he? If only he could avoid raping Potter in the future! The last thing he wanted to do was cause more damage. If Potter lived, how could he ever have a normal life after this? How could he ever engage in a healthy sexual relationship after he’d become used to rape?
Needing a distraction and not wanting to think about Potter wanking, he stripped the sheets off the bed and set about waterproofing both mattresses. He’d just finished replacing the sheets when Potter walked into the room completely naked, carrying the towel in one hand and the Muscle Salve in the other.
Without a hint of shame or modesty, Potter crossed the cage towards him. “Can you put the muscle potion on my back?”
He didn’t want to touch him, to remember how he’d desired that body, but it would look odd if he refused. “Turn around.”
Potter obeyed and Severus took the vial from him, smearing it quickly on his hands. As clinically as he could, he rubbed it into Potter’s back, touching his warm skin no more than necessary. His cock pulsed, the muscle memory still powerful despite his strong mental abhorrence. He’d been so focused on training himself to be mentally and physically aroused by Potter he’d not ever considered the damage his dark urges had done to the boy. He shouldn’t have given him that potion. He shouldn’t have ever thought he had a form of consent.
Unable to stand being in the same room with Potter for much longer, he left, stating, “I will return to bring you dinner,” as he left the cage.
“Should you be drinking so much?”
“Shut up, Albus,” Severus said reflexively. He needed the alcohol to take the edge off the stimulants. He hadn’t slept since the Dark Lord’s visit. “I always maintain control. Did you get the information I asked?”
“Yes,” Albus sighed, adjusting the blindingly blue sleeves on his robes. “His name is Alexander Hathaway. He graduated from Durmstrang two years ago. His father is a high-ranking official stationed in Ukraine. Are you certain he’s a threat to Harry?”
“Yes,” lied Severus. “The Dark Lord refused to grant me exclusive sexual access and, with his new project, Hathaway should rise in rank quickly. I’ve spent too much of my time and resources immobilising Avery. Bellatrix remains an unreliable ally and I can’t fight on two fronts at once. Hathaway needs to be killed or permanently damaged. If you don’t find a way to do this, Potter’s eventual gang rape will be on your hands.”
His jaw flexing, his eyes cold, Albus said, “That’s a bit unfair, Severus. You know I can only influence the Order so far without revealing myself.”
“I don’t care what it takes.” In addition to approaching Albus, Severus had also sent a tainted version of Felix Felicis off with Bellatrix, had Young gather information, and sent out requests for favours to all who owed him. If he had to, he’d overpower Potter and summon Kreacher. Hathaway needed to die for what he’d done. “Remember this - I’ve planted a poison in Potter’s body. If I think that Hathaway should be granted his desires, I won’t hesitate to use it.”
“Leave Harry’s death in his hands,” implored Albus.
Glancing at Potter in the mirror, Severus said, “I won’t stand-” Wait. Was Potter tearing up that sheet to make another note? “Bloody hell, the brat’s going to get us both killed at this rate.” Shrinking Albus’s portrait, he shoved it into his robes, finished off his drink, then put away the alcohol. Blinking away the conversation, he pretended to check in the mirror for the first time since he’d entered his bedroom.
Yes. Without a doubt, Potter was making another note. Stupid child. How many times had Severus told him that he must play his part completely?
Hurrying down to the cage, Severus cast a silencing spell on himself in order to catch Potter in the act. When he stepped through the door, Potter made no attempt to hide his work. Really, with how stupid the boy was, it was amazing he still lived.
Although he doubted he’d hear a satisfactory answer, Severus asked him, “What are you doing?”
Not glancing up from his note, Potter answered, “I’m writing a note.”
“And what do you imagine you’re going to do with that note? If you think I will allow Strix to be near you whilst you are in possession of it, you are sorely mistaken.”
“I’ll think of a way to send it later,” said Potter dismissively, his fingers pressing a torn-out letter in place.
“Incendio!” With a quick jerk of his wand, Severus destroyed the replica of the myth book and the remains of Billy Budd. If necessary, he’d never give the boy a book again.
“What the hell?”
“Your lack of intelligence never ceases to amaze me,” said Severus as he removed the debris. “How can you be broken if you are writing notes?”
"They wouldn't know when I wrote it," said Potter petulantly. "And they never look under my mattress."
How could he be so stupid? Of course the Dark Lord would know about the notes. "Just because something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't, you idiot! You presumably have a brain. Use it for once!"
His eyes narrowing to slits, Potter straightened his back and curled his hands into fists. "Why are you here? Get out. I don't want to talk to you."
"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Severus parted the bars and swept into the cage.
"D'you want to fight me?" Putting up his fists, Potter rose up on the bed to match Severus’s height. "Because I will. Right now, without magic. Let's do it."
"You are the most undisciplined-"
"And yet look what I've done! I've fooled most of them, haven't I? They think I'm broken! When I'm with you, I-"
"Yes, I know," Severus interrupted, not wanting to hear about how Potter had performed exceptionally well during all his rapes. "You haven't fooled me and you haven't fooled the Dark Lord yet."
"How do you know?”
He hadn’t known. He’d been blind to Potter’s ability to fake consent. He should’ve, but he hadn’t.
His jaw set firm, Potter asked, “What if he never brings Nagini with him? How will you know?"
How would he ever know what went on in the Dark Lord’s head? He thought he’d figured out both of them, but last night had shown him he knew neither at all. "I'll know. I will return to brewing now and you will forget this nonsense about sending notes. You need to play your part completely. If you can't do that, I will lock you in the cupboard to prevent you from doing something incredibly stupid which would give both of us away."
Crossing his arms, Potter declared, "Just because we aren't going to perform for Voldemort anymore doesn't mean you can treat me like shit."
Where did that come from? "What makes you think we aren't going to perform anymore?"
"Oh." Potter frowned. "I thought you didn't want to."
"Of course I don't want to! I've never wanted to!" If he could, he would go back and make certain that they’d never set along this twisted path.
"You're a liar!"
"You can't tell when I'm pretending, can you?" Severus sneered, wishing that he had been pretending. "You believed that I actually enjoyed-” Raping you. Defiling you. “-that. Even if I were attracted to males, I would certainly never prefer a runt-"
Splotches of red blossoming on his face, Potter yelled, "You've never needed help to get hard! You want to fuck me. You enjoy fucking me!"
He had! Merlin help him, he’d been sick enough to want more. He’d been blind to Potter’s disgust, so self-absorbed he’d imagined consent in a situation where such a thing could never exist. He’d interpreted Potter’s submission as consent. "You spread your legs for me like a whore last night. You sucked him-"
"DO YOU THINK I ENJOY BEING RAPED?" Potter leaped to his feet, his body shaking. "DO YOU THINK I LIKED IT WHEN YOU FOR-"
Whipping out his wand to silence him if necessary, Severus yelled, "SHUT UP!" He couldn’t bear to hear it.
"Or what?" Potter challenged, his face hard. "What are you going to do to me? Rape me again?"
If it were up to him, he’d never touch the boy again, but that was out of his control. He’d chosen this path and now he needed to face the consequences, even if they destroyed him. He had to do his best to make certain that Potter wouldn’t be damaged any more than he already had been. "I'll take away your voice until you've calmed down if that is what I must do. You need to eat your dinner. You need to train."
Glancing at the now empty table, Potter said, "I don't feel hungry," with a voice that trembled slightly.
"You will, eventually," Severus reminded him as calmly as he could. "Eat your dinner and I will train you afterwards."
"Why are you so concerned about me eating my dinner?" Potter asked suspiciously. "Did you put more sleeping potions in it? I noticed you 'forgot' to mention the painkiller you gave to me last night was laced with them."
The meal had been laced with both a sedative and a calming potion. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I put a sedative in your dinner?"
"How should I know?" Potter answered mockingly, crossing his arms again. "Maybe you like to wank while I'm sleeping."
Bloody hell, he couldn’t defend himself from accusations of perversity because they were true. Stepping back to the table, he slammed his hand down on the surface and summoned dinner. Marching forward, he produced his wand and held it pointed at Potter’s throat in warning. “You won’t be trained any more tonight and, if you don’t eat this meal, you won’t be fed again until morning.” With that announcement hanging in the air, he swept out of the room and headed towards his lab.
Later that night, as he cleaned the recently emptied cauldrons, Bellatrix arrived. She sauntered down the steps and stood on the stones of the floor of the lab as if she owned them herself. “You owe me,” she declared.
Without looking up from his cauldron, he said, “I fail to see how.”
“Hathaway is dead.”
Severus hadn’t been aware of the heavy weight in his stomach until it lifted. Good. Hopefully it had been a horrid, slow affair.
“You told me that the potion you gave me was to aid in his mission. You should have told me its exact purpose.”
She may not have known the details, but Severus refused to believe any claims of innocence. He continued scrubbing.
“Unless you wish our . . . agreement to end, I demand compensation.”
Rather, she wanted a bribe to keep her from running to the Dark Lord. Straightening up, he marched over to the sink where he slowly and meticulously cleaned the cloth he’d used for scrubbing. “Although the results are . . . desirable, I gave you exactly what I said I gave you. I cannot help it if some individuals are foolish enough to take risks. Everyone knows Felix Felicis causes recklessness when ingested in large doses.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he didn’t let her. “Still, my brews are . . . unique and he may not have factored that in, even with your warning.” She pressed her lips thin. She probably hadn’t told Hathaway the full strength of the brew, but then again, she’d certainly not been honest about the source. Very few would believe that Bellatrix had delivered the potion that killed Hathaway, and Severus intended to keep it that way. “I also noticed that Avery Junior wasn’t at the main table last night.” Setting the cloth upon the drying rack, he swept across the room, stopping at the worktable closest to her. “So tell me, what potion would you like?”
Blinking, she asked, “Now you do custom orders?”
“I’m sure you understand my work for the Dark Lord prevents me from brewing as I wish. I make no guarantees or promises-”
She snorted and crossed her arms.
Ignoring her, he continued, “But I’ll do my best. Now tell me, what do you want?”
He’d been curious about the answer, as he didn’t know what she would say. Apparently she didn’t either, for she blinked several times and then sputtered, “Do you really think I don’t know you’re playing some sort of game? You’ll only pretend to research all my requests just so you can have your fun denying them.”
That wasn’t what he planned, but it did sound fun.
“No,” she said, her shoulders square and her voice firm. “I’ll not be your toy. Give me an extra copy of your complete regular . . . private store.”
Arching an eyebrow at her in mock disappointment, he said, “Very well,” and fetched copies of the four potions he’d given her over the course of their arrangement.
Shoving them in her cloak, she hurried off, Disapparating as soon as her feet hit the top of the stairs. Her leaving crack was amplified by the arrival of the Dark Lord. If Bellatrix had heard about Hathaway, then the Dark Lord certainly had.
“My Lord,” Severus bowed deep.
The Dark Lord strode down the steps. “How is the clone?”
“Still alive, my Lord.” Severus raised his head cautiously. “I cannot say with certainty that it will die, but it hasn’t shown any signs of decline.”
Sweeping over to the other side of the lab, Severus cleaned the fake worktable and opened the box that held Potter’s clone. He floated the body up in the air and placed it on another worktable. If only he’d had the time to switch the two bodies! This new one better resembled Potter.
The Dark Lord ran one long-nailed finger down Potter’s chest and Severus forced himself to look away. He had no right to object to anything done to this body.
“I’ve found the spell.”
“What?” blurted Severus, turning back to stare at the Dark Lord.
“To remove his soul,” said the Dark Lord, slowly turning to meet Severus’s gaze. “The Castiel spell will work. I’ve others gathering the equipment as we speak. The ceremony will take place a week from now. At that point, you’ll need to convince the boy to willingly release his soul.”
Bloody hell. He’d known this day would come, but how time slipped away! Just a week? How could they find the Diadem in a week when they’d been searching for months? “And if I can’t convince him to submit?”
The Dark Lord’s lips curved up in a smile. “Then I’ll kill him.”