Fic: Keep You in the Dark, Snape/Ron, 1/1, NC-17
Title: Keep You in the Dark
Author: Janet Lynn aka strickens_girl
Type: Fiction
Length: 6,863
Pairing: Snape/Ron
Rating: NC-17 - Adults Only
Disclaimer: The characters depicted are trademarked by J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Spoilers: This story takes place over the course of The Half-Blood Prince.
Warnings: Underage, Dub-con.
Summary: Ron is having problems dealing with the effects of the brain scars. Snape is assigned to teach him how to deal with dark thoughts that might not be his own.
Author Notes: Thanks to Steph for the quick beta and to scrovegni for keeping me on track when all I wanted to get to was the smut. *g* Title and cut quote from the song "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters.
Author's Note 2: Some dialogue taken directly from "Harry Potter and Half-Blood Prince", Flight of the Prince.
Eight of Cups (Indolence), when reversed: The realization that a matter thought to be important was actually of little consequence. Moving on from something in which you had invested great love and devotion.
Temperance, when reversed: Lack of restraint and self-control. Losing one's cool. Energies dispersed through conflicts in personal, business, and spiritual matters.
Ten of Wands (Oppression), when reversed: Refusing to take on burdens greater than you can carry. Bearing the weight of ultimate responsibility without being crushed.
Keep you in the dark, you know they all pretend.'>
Keep You in the Dark
Severus stalked through the halls of the school, glaring at students not smart enough to get out of the way quickly enough for the professor's taste. He'd made sure that the prefects had led the first years of his house to the dungeons before answering the summons he was dreading. As he slid up the stairway leading to the Headmaster's office, he wondered what he'd be asked to do for "The Boy Who Lived" this year. Just the thought made the Slytherin's head ache.
The sight of the Headmaster with that damned smile on his face sent fire through Severus' veins and he knew the smile he attempted in return was more of a sneer than anything else, but he couldn't be bothered to care. When his eyes landed on Potter sitting next to Dumbledore's desk, even the sneer fell from his face.
"Severus," Dumbledore greeted with just enough cheer to feel false even to the Slytherin. "How nice of you to join us. I suppose you'd like to know why you're here."
"I suppose," Snape echoed, refusing to look anywhere but at the Headmaster still smiling at him.
"We are in need of your special talents and perspective on the world, I'm afraid. Once again, I will be asking you to give above and beyond the call."
Severus sighed loudly before pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are expecting me to try and teach him anything? I've told you that it's a n impossible task. The boy absolutely refuses to learn. And how do you suggest I spend time with Mr. Potter without arousing suspicion? We won't be able to use the excuse of remedial potions and I doubt anyone would believe that the head of Dumbledore's Army would need additional lessons in Defense against Dark Arts."
The boy made as if to stand until a withered, blackened hand came to rest on his shoulder, silently keeping him in his seat.
"No excuses will be needed for Harry this year, I'm afraid," Dumbledore responded, the twinkle returning to his azure eyes. "I will be taking over Harry's lessons this time around. I'm afraid the education he requires is one that only I can deliver."
"But then who..?" Severus started to ask before the Headmaster cut him off.
"However, it seems Harry's friend Ronald has an issue that might benefit from your unique perspective."
At the small gesture of Dumbledore's hand, Snape spun around to see the redheaded boy slumped in the chair behind him. The boy looked as if the idea was not pleasing to him any more than it was to his professor. Barely keeping the growl out of his voice, Severus asked, "And what do you expect me to teach Mr. Weasley here?"
The Headmaster looked as though he was barely holding back his laughter as he answered, "Control, Severus. After Ronald's unfortunate experience in the Department of Mysteries last year, he has been having trouble controlling his temper among other things. We decided that because of your unique situation, it would be best for you to school Ronald on the finer points of control and diversion, as it were."
Severus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The Headmaster wanted him to teach young Mr. Weasley how to become a spy. Maybe not literally, but Dumbledore wanted him to show the boy how to show the world one face while nursing a very different one beneath the surface. Scowling angrily, the Slytherin asked, "And how do you suppose we explain these lessons? We can hardly expect people to believe he needs remedial Defense lessons, what with his stellar performance at the Ministry last year."
"I'm sure you'll think of something, Severus," Dumbledore replied with a smile and a wink. Before he could protest, both the professor and the redheaded boy found themselves ushered out of the Headmaster's office to discuss their arrangement.
Without looking behind him to see if the boy was following, Severus stalked toward his new office. Once they had reached the room, the professor closed the door with a thud and pointed to the chair directly before his desk. He stared at the surly redheaded boy for several long minutes before he finally spoke.
"Well, Mr. Weasley," Severus drawled. "It appears you and I are going to be spending some time together this year." When he received nothing more from the boy than a noncommittal grunt, he continued. "I suggest we meet on Friday evenings since we know that you have no social life to interfere with - unless you feel you need more schooling and we could add Wednesdays as well."
"Fridays are fine," the Weasley boy growled, "unless it conflicts with Quidditch. I'll let you know."
Defiance shone in the boys blue eyes. Interesting.
"You do that. Since we can't have anyone becoming suspicious about the reasons for your lessons, I suggest maybe you cause some sort of disturbance so as to have to serve detention on those days."
"Shouldn't be a problem," the boy responded, his chin lifted in silent rebellion.
Snape couldn't wait to beat it out of him.
"That is all for now," Severus dismissed the boy as he turned his back on him. "I will see you in class."
The youngest Weasley boy left without a word and it made Snape wonder if this could be successful in any way possible.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As it turned out, Severus didn't have to worry about Weasley causing trouble to receive detention. The redheaded boy seemed to be causing trouble in all his classes. More than once, Severus had watched as the class slowly filed in, the Weasley boy sliding in by himself, a smirk that would make a Slytherin proud gracing his face, while one of his friends came in crying or close to it.
The boy had developed a wicked sarcastic wit, one that he unleashed regularly, even in classes despite being warned numerous times about speaking out in class. The honesty and brutality that came out of the boy's mouth was stunning, sharp and biting, sometimes impressing even Severus with its viciousness.
Detention was easily given when the boy threw a stinging hex at Draco Malfoy. It would not have been a problem since they were practicing advanced protection shields except for the fact that Draco had his back turned at the time as they were changing partners.
Severus was able to deflect the hex before it met its mark and he immediately deducted major points from Gryffindor, which always made him smile, before pronouncing that the boy would have to serve detention with him that night.
The group of students from the boy's house put up a token protest but Severus noted some relief in their eyes, especially from Granger. Interesting.
Potter glared at him as they shuffled out at the end of class, but didn't utter a word.
Also interesting.
Severus waited for the boy to show. Five minutes after seven, the door opened and the Weasley boy sauntered in. The professor barely held back the sneer that threatened to cross his face at the boy's casual attire. The lack of proper robes, worn denim and tattered cotton shirt was an obvious sign of disrespect that Snape was willing to let slide this once.
"How nice of you to join me, Mr. Weasley," Severus greeted the surly boy with mock cheer. "I was beginning to think that I was going to have to serve this detention all by myself."
"You told me to get detention," the redheaded boy said with a shrug as he slid into the desk in the front of the classroom. "I got detention. What more do you want?"
Severus swooped forward in an instant, his hands slamming hard on the desk the boy was occupying. "What I want, Mr. Weasley is for you to understand that this is not just a detention for you. You are here to learn and I can't do that if are not here on time and ready to learn. You may think that you are special because of your friends, but rest assured, that neither you nor Mr. Potter are all that special."
Something passed over the boy's features, something dark and haunted, before he growled, "Don't talk about Harry like that."
Snorting lightly, Severus stood up to his full height, stared down his impressive nose at the boy. "I'll talk about both of you anyway I please. Harry Potter is nothing more than a grandstanding, overrated little boy who has survived by luck alone."
"You're not jealous, are you Snape?" Weasley asked, his voice teasing and sharp.
"That's Professor Snape to you, Weasley," the Slytherin drawled as he leaned in closer to the boy. "And I'm hardly anything close to jealous. Your so called friend continues to dwell on his standing as the hero of the Wizarding world when all he's ever done is fall into situations for someone else can get him out of. He's nothing but a pompous, spoiled brat who needs others to stroke his over inflated ego."
"You don't know anything about it," the boy growled as he sat forward in his seat, challenging the older man.
"Then why don't you enlighten me, Mr. Weasley."
Snape was surprised to find himself suddenly face to face with a very angry Ron Weasley as the boy stood and stalked toward him.
"Harry never wanted your so called fame," he started, his voice low and rough. "You want to know who dwells on the fact that he's famous. You do. Constantly. He hates that everyone knows who he is on sight but no one wants to take the time to know him, know who he really is."
Severus was shocked by the amount of vitriol pouring from the boy and he opened his mouth to stop the outrage, but Weasley pressed on.
"You complain that he gets himself into impossible situations and it's just blind luck that saves him, but I didn't see you going into the Chamber of Secrets to save my sister. Or trying to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone. Where were you, Snape? You were willing to sit back and let a boy less than half your age face the darkest wizard of our age, but Harry's the one who just begging for attention? Are you really so petty as to hold a grudge against a teenage boy for the rivalry you had with his dead father nearly twenty years ago?!"
Ron's blue eyes were wide and wild as he pressed into the professor as he spewed his tirade.
"You hate Harry Potter?!" the boy continued, his breath hot and harsh in Severus' face. "Fine! Just know that you made Harry Potter, Snape. You made him by standing aside and letting a boy do what a man should have done. And you continue to make him more famous every day. Maybe one day you'll finally hate him more than you hate yourself!"
The words hit Severus like a physical blow and he tried to step back, to get away from the rage being hurled at him. He reached out to grab the boy, to stop him from continuing, afraid Ronald might hurt himself or Snape, or maybe dig even deeper into Snape's own psyche.
As soon as his fingers wrapped around the boy's gangly upper arms, they both gasped at the physical pain the simple act caused. In seconds, Severus had the sleeve to the boy's shirt wrenched up to expose the boy's lanky arms. The skin was pale and freckled except for where the scars from the brain stood out, red and angry. They were hot to the touch and seemed to practically pulse beneath the professor's fingers.
Surprised at the reaction from the boy, Severus squeezed the boy's arms, constricting the scars harshly. The Gryffindor hissed in pain and tried to pull away but the older man refused to let go, reaching over to grab the other arm as well. Pressing against the scars on both arms, Snape stared into the wild blue eyes, holding them as tightly as he held the boy's arms until he saw something break inside.
Eventually their breathing slowed until they both realized they were standing close enough to be brushing against the other and Snape's hands were still holding tightly to Ron's bare skin. They broke apart with a start and Ron fell back against the desk he'd occupied earlier, softly whispering, "Bloody hell."
"Language, Mr. Weasley," Severus chided automatically. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
The glare that met him was familiar and the professor barely kept an honest smile from his face. Severus turned to sit at his desk before pulling out his quill and parchment. Looking up at the stunned boy, he asked, "Now, can you tell me what you felt? Could you feel the moment you lost control or was it not until it was over that you realized the loss of your faculties?"
"What?" the boy asked, seemingly shocked at the question.
"I need you to think, please," Severus snapped. "If I am to help you manage your situation, I have to understand what is happening to you. Are you planning on helping or do you expect me to shake you into submission every time?"
"This was a test!?" Ronald shouted incredulously.
"Of course," the professor said simply. "I needed to observe the effects the scars had on you that was of such concern to all involved. You assisted admirably."
The boy grumbled and balked until finally he began to describe the slow build up of aggression and anger that seemed to dominate his battles with scars. He noted that he sometimes felt he was completely out of control of his thoughts and he was unable to keep any thought he had to himself, no matter how much he knew it could hurt his friends and family.
Fastidiously making notes, Severus thought about how he could help. After a moment, he spoke.
"I suggest you tell your friends what has transpired today and inform them that when you get out of control again, the best solution is to have sufficient physical contact with the scars directly. It may be necessary to find someone who can provide the right catalyst to counteract the scars reaction. I will assist you as needed, of course."
Ron stared at him for a moment, mouth gaping, before a single corner of his mouth turned up. "I'm sure you would, Professor."
"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley?" Severus pressed.
The boy stood and stalked toward the door before throwing over his shoulder, "Can't wait to get your hands on me again, can you, Severus?"
The professor watched the boy walk out the door, shocked into silence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus spent several of the following nights thinking about Mr. Weasley and what the boy had said. The scars themselves were a mystery and would most likely remain so but that was not the problem. Severus knew, as did Dumbledore and the Weasley boy himself, that only the Unspeakables would know the secrets of the brains and the imprints the scars left on the young boy.
The ambiguity that plagued the Slytherin was how the thoughts burned beneath his skin were really affecting the boy. Had the scars planted darkness in the boy, festering and building until it exploded as anger and cruelty at those closest around him, or did the memories simply tap into the spitefulness already hiding beneath the boy's pleasant demeanor?
Severus had noted that the boy had issues in the past with his relationships. Weasley had fought with Potter during their fourth year and it seemed like a year hadn't passed since the brats had come to Hogwarts that he and Granger hadn't had issues. So the boy obviously wasn't the pinnacle of sunshine and roses, but neither did he seem to be a bastard of a friend like Malfoy or Black. No, if the boy had any darkness in him, it was well hidden - until now.
Weasley didn't even wait until Friday to set himself up for his extra curricular lessons. Thursday brought the class in with the redheaded boy in the lead followed by Granger in tears surrounded by the rest of the Gryffindors. Weasley's smirk was a near duplicate of Draco's at his stubborn, selfish worst.
Now Severus became really concerned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus waited for the boy, irritated at his lack of punctuality once again. He was definitely going to have to speak to Ronald about it tonight. He’d finally devised a way to help the boy, if he would accept his professor’s help.
They’d been working for weeks at his occlumency. It turned out that the redheaded boy was much better equipped for the task than “The Boy Who Lived” had been the year before. Occlumency lessons were on the whole successful and Ronald seemed to make great strides in his ability to control his temper and manage his outbursts using the skill of blocking his mind against the scars' influence.
Suddenly, the door to Snape’s office opened with a bang and Ronald tumbled through, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The Gryffindor was covered in blood and his left eye was swollen, sure to be bruised and discolored in no time. Rushing over to help the boy to his feet, Severus helped him to his desk to check the extent of the damage.
As long fingers pushed and prodded at his injuries, Ronald hissed and groaned appropriately but not so much that Severus worried about the boy having anything broken and thus having to be taken to the infirmary. Instead, he went to his stash of potions, picked out two and handed them to the boy on his return. Blue eyes stared at him skeptically for a moment before Ron downed them both. Once the pain remedy began to take effect, Severus ran his wand over the worst of the wounds, chanting softly beneath his breath.
Once he felt the boy was at least marginally better than he had been when he'd stumbled in, Severus stared at him, settling on the edge of his own desk.
“What happened?” he asked point blank.
“Fight,” the boy responded gruffly.
“I can see that,” Severus snapped. “Care to tell me why?”
“No,” Ron growled, scowling at his professor. When Severus made it plain that he was not going to accept that answer, the boy sighed before continuing, “Ran into Malfoy and his shadows on the way here; words were exchanged, threats were made, then Malfoy decided that three on one sounded like good odds and he decided to sick his goons on me. End of story.”
Looking down his hooked nose, Severus took in the boy’s injures and figured the story was most likely accurate. Draco had been on edge for weeks despite Snape’s continual offers of help and support.
“Guess Harry was right about that prat after all.”
Severus bristled lightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just that Harry's been following Malfoy around," Ron explained. "He says he's sure the berk is up to something but I think he's just crushing on him."
"Crushing on him?"
"Come on," the boy laughed at the professor's expression. "Tell me you haven't noticed the tension between those two. They're always staring at each other, sneering and cursing at each other like they are better than the other. It's obvious they're just suffering from too much unresolved sexual tension."
Snape's brows rose as he stared the boy down.
"Is that so?"
Ron laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, that's so!"
"What do you know about it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Severus sensed the challenge and wanted to ask, wanted to know how repressed young Ronald really was but he decided to let it lie for now.
The two stared at each other for several long minutes, the silence stretching out between them as they each studied the other. When Ron's tongue snaked out lick the wide curve of his bottom lip, Severus decided he'd finally had enough.
"I have another idea that might help you with your…situation."
"Really?" Ron asked, a wicked smirk crossing his face.
"Yes."
"Go on then."
"When you find that the occlumency is not sufficient," Severus explained, "You have to simply hide what is inside you. You have to pretend to be what you are not to fool those around you until you can release that tension in an appropriate manner."
Ron gaped at him for a moment before bursting out in near hysterical laughter.
"That's - that's your brilliant plan?" the redheaded boy asked between gasped breaths. "You just want me to pretend? Like I hadn't been trying that already? Like I hadn't wanted to hide the fact that I'm a right pillock at times? You think it's that easy!?"
By the time he'd gotten to the end of his tirade, Ron was on his feet, panting and yelling into his professor's face. Severus simply stared him down, serenity and power emanating from his unblinking black eyes.
"Yes."
"Bloody buggering hell!" Ron shouted as he shook with rage. An impressive litany of curses flew from the young boy's lips and Severus waited until the boy had worn himself down. Once Ron's breathing had returned to normal, Snape leaned forward to stare into his livid blue eyes.
"What do you think I've been doing all these years, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, his voice quiet but harsh. "Living on both sides of the war, I have to be lying to someone, don't I? If either side thinks I am lying to them, it would mean my end. I have to play the pretender every day of my life simply to survive.
"You don't think there are others out there who don't pretend to be something they are not. They all pretend, Ronald. Every one of them. They pretend not to be afraid. They pretend not to care. They pretend they don't hurt."
Then the Slytherin leaned in even closer, his hot breath brushing against the boy's cheek.
"Tell me you've never had to pretend, Ron. Tell me."
The boy blinked, possibly fighting back tears that thrilled Severus more than he cared to think about, before he leaned even further into Severus' space, his lips practically brushing his professor's cheek as he whispered, "Never."
Severus chuckled under his breath, "Good. It's a start."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus had been impressed with Ron's progress. Even after the near tragedy of the boy's poisoning, he was doing better. Better, of course, was a relative term. The boy certainly still had his moments when he lost his control and lashed out at those around, but it was less vicious than before.
Needing an outlet for his anger, Snape had suggested Ron use his aggression in Quidditch, both in practice and in games. It seemed to do the trick as the boy seemed more relaxed than he had all year. Plus there was that obnoxious twit Ron insisted on calling a girlfriend. She seemed to be helping the boy's stress levels as well.
Nevertheless, Severus was worried. Ronald had become more and more blatant in his flirting with his professor, going so far as to display himself lewdly in his chair as Severus was lecturing or to brush up against him during practical. It was disconcerting, mostly because no one else seemed to notice. He'd tried to discourage the advances once it was clear that Ron was doing more than innocent flirting but the more he pushed the boy away, the worse Ron's temper became.
So he held the boy at arm's length while he strove to help him control his urges.
But Severus could only deny himself so much. He'd held himself apart from everyone else for so long and now he finally had someone who understood, who shared his secret, who wanted to know and understand. Several times Severus wondered how much of Ron's curiosity was from his scars and how much was his own. But sometimes, just the proximity of the boy was nearly more than Severus could endure.
The door opened and Ron walked in, smiling at his professor. Severus noted that the boy was dressed in his usual attire: form fitting denim, tight cotton shirt, ratty trainers and absent a proper robe. It was far too distracting.
As the boy settled him down in his normal chair, Snape noticed the boy looked more tired than usual. "Not sleeping well, Ronald?" he asked, fighting to keep the seduction out of his voice.
The boy snorted softly before locking eyes with his professor. "You planning on helping me with that?"
"I believe my charge was to help you deal with the aftermath of your folly at the Ministry of Magic," Severus tossed back.
"Yes, but it might help my temper." The boy had winked, actually winked at him and the Slytherin had to stand and adjust his robes before the boy discovered the affect he had on the older man.
"Am I to understand that your girlfriend is not adequate in that area?"
Ron actually laughed out loud at that, light and open. Severus decided it was beautiful on him.
"Or is that what's been keeping you up at night?"
The head of flame red hair shook and Ron sighed. "No. It's Harry, if you must know."
"What about him?" Severus asked.
The blue eyes that captured him were sharp and hard. "What do you care?" the boy asked harshly.
"Let's just say that maybe I've learned a little consideration for Mr. Potter's situation."
The moment stretched out between them before Ron smiled lightly. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Snape replied in his 'Professor voice'. "I suppose you could say that someone inform me that there could be more to Mr. Potter's situation than I was previously aware."
"Is that so?" the boy asked as he leaned back to sprawl in his chair, spreading his legs wide and putting himself on display.
"Yes, Ron. That's so." Severus answered as he decided to sit back and enjoy the show for once.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus stormed around his office, randomly kicking chairs and hexing empty jars on his shelf just to release some of rage simmering deep in his soul. It was too much, so much more than anyone should have to endure.
First he had to deal with Potter's mess after casting Sectumsempra. He was still in shock that "The Boy Who Lived" could use something so vicious so well. Draco had been cut deeply and it had taken every trick Severus knew to heal the wounds. The blond boy was going to be alright but Snape was more upset by Potter's lies than anything else. Detention for every Saturday for the remainder of the term was the worst punishment he can come up with if only to take away the boy's love of flying for a short time. Even that wouldn't cause the boy to admit that he had Severus' possession.
Then he'd met with Dumbledore and the Headmaster had asked him to do the impossible. Not asked, demanded. The Slytherin had tried everything; begging, pleading, yelling, but the old man would not see reason, would not give Severus a reprieve.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He couldn't believe the old man would ask him to do such a thing. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't make him do it.
"Can't make you do what?" the husky voice asked from the doorway.
Severus whipped around, his wand pointed at the person foolish enough to interrupt him when he was in such a mood. He snarled at the boy watching him before turning away.
"Go away," Snape barked, refusing to face the boy.
"No," Ron said, quiet and calm.
"It wasn't a request, Mr. Weasley. Leave."
"No," Ron growled directly behind him. "I don't want to."
The hand on his back was hot even through the heavy robes. He wanted to push into the touch, to feel it, to feel something other than this empty, hollow pain.
Instead, he struck out with his familiar shield of sarcasm. "What's the matter? Is your girlfriend snubbing you now so you have to come to me?"
"No girlfriend to snub me anymore," the boy answered softly, his body so close Severus could nearly feel the heat of his body burning him. "I just - I just want to help you."
"Help me!" Snape snapped as spun around to glare at the boy who dared to push him so hard, so far. "You want to help me?! What do you think you can do? You're a silly little boy with silly little boy ideas. You think the world is perfect and all you have to do is believe in your little friend and it will all be alright. But it won't be alright, Ronald. People are going to die and the world you know will change. So don't stand there and tell me you can help me!"
While Snape ranted, he watched as the relaxed demeanor slid from the boy's face to be replaced by hate and rage. Once he was done yelling, Ron's smirked, a single corner of his mouth quirking up at him.
"You think I don't know about any of that, do you?" the boy whispered, his voice tight and low. "You think I haven't seen pain and death. You know what? You're right, Severus. What do I know? I didn't have to deal with Cedric's death, hearing Harry have nightmares about watching him killed right before him night after night. I didn't think my sister was going to die after she was possessed and hidden beneath the school. I didn't have to deal with my father nearly dying after being bitten by a giant bloody snake! No, Severus, you're right. You're special. You're the only one who has to deal with pain and adversity. You don't need any help, do you, you stupid greasy git!"
Angrily, Snape reached out to grab the boy, to shake him out of rage but when his fingers touched the bare skin of the boy's arm's there was no jolt, no burn. Wrenching up the short sleeves of the shirt, Severus was surprised to see the scars laying quiet on the boy's skin, pink and dormant.
"How..?" the professor asked, shocked.
Ron smirked at him before whispering, "I learned from the best."
Before he could react, Severus felt the boy's fingers twisting the front his robes and pulling him in close. Hot lips pressed against his own, crushing his lips against his teeth. He knew he should fight this, should push the boy away, but he couldn't, not now. So he wrapped his arms around the redheaded boy clinging to him and crushed the lithe body to him.
Fingers turned to claws as the two men grasped at each other, pulling at fabric and kneading at the flesh beneath. Lips parted as tongues sought out its twin, fighting for dominance. The kiss was brutal, full of teeth and tongue, as each man tasted and tested the other.
Through the haze of his lust, Severus felt clumsy fingers pulling at the many buttons of his robes.
"No," he growled as he slapped away the greedy hands. There was no time for that. There was need and now and take and have. Reaching over, he quickly stripped off the boy's offending shirt before tearing open the button and zip on the denim jeans. He sealed his lips over the boy's mouth as he let out a loud groan as Snape's hands dove beneath the fabric to find the boy's cock hard and leaking.
He touched the boy with teasing strokes of his fingertips and Ron sagged against him, whimpering deep in his throat. Severus smiled against the needy lips as the boy's hips snapped forward, seeking his touch. He took one step, then another to press Ron against his desk. With a dramatic sweep of his arm, the desktop was cleared and Snape pressed the boy down on the hard, unforgiving surface. As he stood, he looked down at the boy and he felt a moment of conscience until Ron grabbed his robe and growled, "Do it."
"Roll over," Snape ordered.
Ron complied quickly, his body arching against the cool wood beneath his hot skin. Wasting no time, Severus quickly opened his trousers, releasing his cock to the cool night air. Withdrawing his wand from the folds of his robes, he cast a quick lubrication spell, grinning wickedly as Ron gasped at the sensation.
Leaning his body over the boy's back, Severus slowly slid a fingertip over the slick skin. He massaged the tight ring of muscles for a moment before stealing inside. A soft gasp escaped Ron's lips before he sighed and relaxed into the sensation. Snape let his teeth scrape over the skin on the back of the boy's neck, enjoying the whine that resulted.
Soon a second finger joined the first and Severus quickly worked Ron into a frenzy. Stroking and pressing him deep inside, Snape waited until the boy was pushing back, silently begging for more. Slicking himself quickly, he positioned himself at the boy's entrance, waiting for a moment before pressing forward.
The boy cried out at the intrusion and Severus waited for some sign that he was ready for more. Eventually, Ron pushed back, pressing against Snape. Severus took a deep breath, pulled out and slammed home. Both he and Ron cried out as he set a brutal pace. Thrust and retreat with no pause, he took the boy hard and fast. Bracing his hands on the desk on either side of the boy's head, Snape shifted, searching for the perfect angle. He knew he'd found it when Ron's head shot up with a gasp and a curse.
His thrusts were punishing and the room was filled with the sounds of the slapping of skin on skin. Reaching for the boy's hardness, Severus licked the shell of Ron's ear before commanding, "Come for me," biting the boy's earlobe hard.
With a harsh cry, the boy was spilling over the desk. The feeling of the boy pulsing around him sent Snape over the edge and he came hard, deep inside the body beneath him. They lay joined together for several long minutes, panting and shaking. Finally, the Slytherin straightened up, slowly sliding from the boy's snug body. He fixed his robes before righting Ron's jeans and helping the boy to stand.
Before he could do or say anything, the redheaded boy was in his arms, clinging to him. Slowly, they slid to the floor, wrapped around each other. Severus took the time enjoy the luxury of stroking the soft, tender flesh.
For a moment, he could almost convince himself that Ron had fallen asleep, but quietly, the boy asked, "So everything's going to change now?"
"Yes, Ron. I think it's safe to say that everything is going to change now."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sweat dripped off his skin, dampening the inky strands of hair clinging to his face and neck as he ran and ran, Draco Malfoy tucked under his arm as he strove for the edge of the wards. He knew he was being followed, knew that Harry had seen what he’d done, what he’d been forced to do, and he knew that the boy wouldn’t understand.
The scratching of his robes, the tightness in his chest, the punch of cold night air against his overheated skin should have been a distraction, should have been a problem, but didn’t feel them.
In fact, he didn’t feel a thing.
The moment the curse fell from his lips, the instant the flash of bright green light hit his mentor and teacher, he felt a piece of him die. Now he was running from his home, his life, from himself.
He heard the curses being hurled behind him, hate filled words that should have felt like a victory. Finally, he’d gotten to that boy, broken him, hurt him more than any other. Instead, he pitied him, knowing the trials Harry was about to face.
Spinning, he deflected each curse with a simple wave of his wand. He watched the anger grow in the emerald-colored eyes, wanting to be pleased with the triumph and failing. He threw taunts at the boy, hoping that cruelty would fill the void inside him but they sounded harsh and flat to his own ears.
Harry tried an Unforgivable and Snape knocked the spell away easily, feeling the curse building before the boy even said a word. The boy tried it again and Snape chuckled mirthlessly.
"No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter," he shouted. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability..."
Another curse fell from the boy's lips and was easily blocked again.
"Fight back!" Harry screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly..."
"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" shouted Snape. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"
Harry tried again, failing miserably. Severus shook his head, amazed that the boy still refused to learn. The professor was determined to teach him, one way or another.
"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter! Maybe you should take some lessons from Weasley. And least he discovered how to hide things, even from you."
Snape had to yell at the idiot Death Eaters the Dark Lord had sent for the battle. Killing the boy would bring about the wrath of Voldemort and Snape was willing to teach him, but not like this. Harry stood and concentrated.
Anger and pride grew inside Severus. Finally, he was beginning to feel something again. He quickly deflected the Levicorpus spell and throwing Harry into the air. He moved to stand over the prone, wandless boy.
"No, Potter!" he screamed as he felt the familiar pull of the wordless spell from the boy. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them - I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my invention on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so...no!"
"Kill me then," the boy panted, his face a mask of rage and contempt, matching Snape's own. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward - "
The pain he'd thought lost surged forward and Snape's knees nearly buckled at the immense ache in the darkest corner of his soul.
"Don't call me coward! he screamed at the ignorant boy. He didn't know, couldn't know, the anguish and pain tearing him up from the inside out. Viciously, he slashed out at Harry, throwing the boy several feet into the air, restraining himself from seriously harming him as he so wanted to do.
With a great whoosh, an enormous Hippogriff swooped down to attack him and Severus ran for the gates once again. As he reached the edge of the wards, he turned to take one look back at the school, the only place he'd ever really considered home. Standing just outside the main entry of the great castle, a figure silently watched. Severus could just make out the mane of red hair flying around the boy's head. Illuminated by the fire of Hagrid's hut and the spells flying behind him, Snape could swear Ron looked as if he had been consumed by flames. Fitting, he thought, considering the boy set him ablaze in a way he'd never thought possible.
Snape stood frozen for a long moment, taking in the sight of Ron, knowing it would probably be his last chance in this lifetime.
Staring at the boy, Severus straightened up, closed off his mind and made sure his mask was firmly in place. It was time to pretend.
With a single nod to the redheaded boy staring at him, Snape turned and Disapparated away.
~~~~The End~~~~
Author: Janet Lynn aka strickens_girl
Type: Fiction
Length: 6,863
Pairing: Snape/Ron
Rating: NC-17 - Adults Only
Disclaimer: The characters depicted are trademarked by J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Spoilers: This story takes place over the course of The Half-Blood Prince.
Warnings: Underage, Dub-con.
Summary: Ron is having problems dealing with the effects of the brain scars. Snape is assigned to teach him how to deal with dark thoughts that might not be his own.
Author Notes: Thanks to Steph for the quick beta and to scrovegni for keeping me on track when all I wanted to get to was the smut. *g* Title and cut quote from the song "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters.
Author's Note 2: Some dialogue taken directly from "Harry Potter and Half-Blood Prince", Flight of the Prince.
Eight of Cups (Indolence), when reversed: The realization that a matter thought to be important was actually of little consequence. Moving on from something in which you had invested great love and devotion.
Temperance, when reversed: Lack of restraint and self-control. Losing one's cool. Energies dispersed through conflicts in personal, business, and spiritual matters.
Ten of Wands (Oppression), when reversed: Refusing to take on burdens greater than you can carry. Bearing the weight of ultimate responsibility without being crushed.
Keep you in the dark, you know they all pretend.'>
Keep You in the Dark
Severus stalked through the halls of the school, glaring at students not smart enough to get out of the way quickly enough for the professor's taste. He'd made sure that the prefects had led the first years of his house to the dungeons before answering the summons he was dreading. As he slid up the stairway leading to the Headmaster's office, he wondered what he'd be asked to do for "The Boy Who Lived" this year. Just the thought made the Slytherin's head ache.
The sight of the Headmaster with that damned smile on his face sent fire through Severus' veins and he knew the smile he attempted in return was more of a sneer than anything else, but he couldn't be bothered to care. When his eyes landed on Potter sitting next to Dumbledore's desk, even the sneer fell from his face.
"Severus," Dumbledore greeted with just enough cheer to feel false even to the Slytherin. "How nice of you to join us. I suppose you'd like to know why you're here."
"I suppose," Snape echoed, refusing to look anywhere but at the Headmaster still smiling at him.
"We are in need of your special talents and perspective on the world, I'm afraid. Once again, I will be asking you to give above and beyond the call."
Severus sighed loudly before pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are expecting me to try and teach him anything? I've told you that it's a n impossible task. The boy absolutely refuses to learn. And how do you suggest I spend time with Mr. Potter without arousing suspicion? We won't be able to use the excuse of remedial potions and I doubt anyone would believe that the head of Dumbledore's Army would need additional lessons in Defense against Dark Arts."
The boy made as if to stand until a withered, blackened hand came to rest on his shoulder, silently keeping him in his seat.
"No excuses will be needed for Harry this year, I'm afraid," Dumbledore responded, the twinkle returning to his azure eyes. "I will be taking over Harry's lessons this time around. I'm afraid the education he requires is one that only I can deliver."
"But then who..?" Severus started to ask before the Headmaster cut him off.
"However, it seems Harry's friend Ronald has an issue that might benefit from your unique perspective."
At the small gesture of Dumbledore's hand, Snape spun around to see the redheaded boy slumped in the chair behind him. The boy looked as if the idea was not pleasing to him any more than it was to his professor. Barely keeping the growl out of his voice, Severus asked, "And what do you expect me to teach Mr. Weasley here?"
The Headmaster looked as though he was barely holding back his laughter as he answered, "Control, Severus. After Ronald's unfortunate experience in the Department of Mysteries last year, he has been having trouble controlling his temper among other things. We decided that because of your unique situation, it would be best for you to school Ronald on the finer points of control and diversion, as it were."
Severus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The Headmaster wanted him to teach young Mr. Weasley how to become a spy. Maybe not literally, but Dumbledore wanted him to show the boy how to show the world one face while nursing a very different one beneath the surface. Scowling angrily, the Slytherin asked, "And how do you suppose we explain these lessons? We can hardly expect people to believe he needs remedial Defense lessons, what with his stellar performance at the Ministry last year."
"I'm sure you'll think of something, Severus," Dumbledore replied with a smile and a wink. Before he could protest, both the professor and the redheaded boy found themselves ushered out of the Headmaster's office to discuss their arrangement.
Without looking behind him to see if the boy was following, Severus stalked toward his new office. Once they had reached the room, the professor closed the door with a thud and pointed to the chair directly before his desk. He stared at the surly redheaded boy for several long minutes before he finally spoke.
"Well, Mr. Weasley," Severus drawled. "It appears you and I are going to be spending some time together this year." When he received nothing more from the boy than a noncommittal grunt, he continued. "I suggest we meet on Friday evenings since we know that you have no social life to interfere with - unless you feel you need more schooling and we could add Wednesdays as well."
"Fridays are fine," the Weasley boy growled, "unless it conflicts with Quidditch. I'll let you know."
Defiance shone in the boys blue eyes. Interesting.
"You do that. Since we can't have anyone becoming suspicious about the reasons for your lessons, I suggest maybe you cause some sort of disturbance so as to have to serve detention on those days."
"Shouldn't be a problem," the boy responded, his chin lifted in silent rebellion.
Snape couldn't wait to beat it out of him.
"That is all for now," Severus dismissed the boy as he turned his back on him. "I will see you in class."
The youngest Weasley boy left without a word and it made Snape wonder if this could be successful in any way possible.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As it turned out, Severus didn't have to worry about Weasley causing trouble to receive detention. The redheaded boy seemed to be causing trouble in all his classes. More than once, Severus had watched as the class slowly filed in, the Weasley boy sliding in by himself, a smirk that would make a Slytherin proud gracing his face, while one of his friends came in crying or close to it.
The boy had developed a wicked sarcastic wit, one that he unleashed regularly, even in classes despite being warned numerous times about speaking out in class. The honesty and brutality that came out of the boy's mouth was stunning, sharp and biting, sometimes impressing even Severus with its viciousness.
Detention was easily given when the boy threw a stinging hex at Draco Malfoy. It would not have been a problem since they were practicing advanced protection shields except for the fact that Draco had his back turned at the time as they were changing partners.
Severus was able to deflect the hex before it met its mark and he immediately deducted major points from Gryffindor, which always made him smile, before pronouncing that the boy would have to serve detention with him that night.
The group of students from the boy's house put up a token protest but Severus noted some relief in their eyes, especially from Granger. Interesting.
Potter glared at him as they shuffled out at the end of class, but didn't utter a word.
Also interesting.
Severus waited for the boy to show. Five minutes after seven, the door opened and the Weasley boy sauntered in. The professor barely held back the sneer that threatened to cross his face at the boy's casual attire. The lack of proper robes, worn denim and tattered cotton shirt was an obvious sign of disrespect that Snape was willing to let slide this once.
"How nice of you to join me, Mr. Weasley," Severus greeted the surly boy with mock cheer. "I was beginning to think that I was going to have to serve this detention all by myself."
"You told me to get detention," the redheaded boy said with a shrug as he slid into the desk in the front of the classroom. "I got detention. What more do you want?"
Severus swooped forward in an instant, his hands slamming hard on the desk the boy was occupying. "What I want, Mr. Weasley is for you to understand that this is not just a detention for you. You are here to learn and I can't do that if are not here on time and ready to learn. You may think that you are special because of your friends, but rest assured, that neither you nor Mr. Potter are all that special."
Something passed over the boy's features, something dark and haunted, before he growled, "Don't talk about Harry like that."
Snorting lightly, Severus stood up to his full height, stared down his impressive nose at the boy. "I'll talk about both of you anyway I please. Harry Potter is nothing more than a grandstanding, overrated little boy who has survived by luck alone."
"You're not jealous, are you Snape?" Weasley asked, his voice teasing and sharp.
"That's Professor Snape to you, Weasley," the Slytherin drawled as he leaned in closer to the boy. "And I'm hardly anything close to jealous. Your so called friend continues to dwell on his standing as the hero of the Wizarding world when all he's ever done is fall into situations for someone else can get him out of. He's nothing but a pompous, spoiled brat who needs others to stroke his over inflated ego."
"You don't know anything about it," the boy growled as he sat forward in his seat, challenging the older man.
"Then why don't you enlighten me, Mr. Weasley."
Snape was surprised to find himself suddenly face to face with a very angry Ron Weasley as the boy stood and stalked toward him.
"Harry never wanted your so called fame," he started, his voice low and rough. "You want to know who dwells on the fact that he's famous. You do. Constantly. He hates that everyone knows who he is on sight but no one wants to take the time to know him, know who he really is."
Severus was shocked by the amount of vitriol pouring from the boy and he opened his mouth to stop the outrage, but Weasley pressed on.
"You complain that he gets himself into impossible situations and it's just blind luck that saves him, but I didn't see you going into the Chamber of Secrets to save my sister. Or trying to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone. Where were you, Snape? You were willing to sit back and let a boy less than half your age face the darkest wizard of our age, but Harry's the one who just begging for attention? Are you really so petty as to hold a grudge against a teenage boy for the rivalry you had with his dead father nearly twenty years ago?!"
Ron's blue eyes were wide and wild as he pressed into the professor as he spewed his tirade.
"You hate Harry Potter?!" the boy continued, his breath hot and harsh in Severus' face. "Fine! Just know that you made Harry Potter, Snape. You made him by standing aside and letting a boy do what a man should have done. And you continue to make him more famous every day. Maybe one day you'll finally hate him more than you hate yourself!"
The words hit Severus like a physical blow and he tried to step back, to get away from the rage being hurled at him. He reached out to grab the boy, to stop him from continuing, afraid Ronald might hurt himself or Snape, or maybe dig even deeper into Snape's own psyche.
As soon as his fingers wrapped around the boy's gangly upper arms, they both gasped at the physical pain the simple act caused. In seconds, Severus had the sleeve to the boy's shirt wrenched up to expose the boy's lanky arms. The skin was pale and freckled except for where the scars from the brain stood out, red and angry. They were hot to the touch and seemed to practically pulse beneath the professor's fingers.
Surprised at the reaction from the boy, Severus squeezed the boy's arms, constricting the scars harshly. The Gryffindor hissed in pain and tried to pull away but the older man refused to let go, reaching over to grab the other arm as well. Pressing against the scars on both arms, Snape stared into the wild blue eyes, holding them as tightly as he held the boy's arms until he saw something break inside.
Eventually their breathing slowed until they both realized they were standing close enough to be brushing against the other and Snape's hands were still holding tightly to Ron's bare skin. They broke apart with a start and Ron fell back against the desk he'd occupied earlier, softly whispering, "Bloody hell."
"Language, Mr. Weasley," Severus chided automatically. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
The glare that met him was familiar and the professor barely kept an honest smile from his face. Severus turned to sit at his desk before pulling out his quill and parchment. Looking up at the stunned boy, he asked, "Now, can you tell me what you felt? Could you feel the moment you lost control or was it not until it was over that you realized the loss of your faculties?"
"What?" the boy asked, seemingly shocked at the question.
"I need you to think, please," Severus snapped. "If I am to help you manage your situation, I have to understand what is happening to you. Are you planning on helping or do you expect me to shake you into submission every time?"
"This was a test!?" Ronald shouted incredulously.
"Of course," the professor said simply. "I needed to observe the effects the scars had on you that was of such concern to all involved. You assisted admirably."
The boy grumbled and balked until finally he began to describe the slow build up of aggression and anger that seemed to dominate his battles with scars. He noted that he sometimes felt he was completely out of control of his thoughts and he was unable to keep any thought he had to himself, no matter how much he knew it could hurt his friends and family.
Fastidiously making notes, Severus thought about how he could help. After a moment, he spoke.
"I suggest you tell your friends what has transpired today and inform them that when you get out of control again, the best solution is to have sufficient physical contact with the scars directly. It may be necessary to find someone who can provide the right catalyst to counteract the scars reaction. I will assist you as needed, of course."
Ron stared at him for a moment, mouth gaping, before a single corner of his mouth turned up. "I'm sure you would, Professor."
"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley?" Severus pressed.
The boy stood and stalked toward the door before throwing over his shoulder, "Can't wait to get your hands on me again, can you, Severus?"
The professor watched the boy walk out the door, shocked into silence.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus spent several of the following nights thinking about Mr. Weasley and what the boy had said. The scars themselves were a mystery and would most likely remain so but that was not the problem. Severus knew, as did Dumbledore and the Weasley boy himself, that only the Unspeakables would know the secrets of the brains and the imprints the scars left on the young boy.
The ambiguity that plagued the Slytherin was how the thoughts burned beneath his skin were really affecting the boy. Had the scars planted darkness in the boy, festering and building until it exploded as anger and cruelty at those closest around him, or did the memories simply tap into the spitefulness already hiding beneath the boy's pleasant demeanor?
Severus had noted that the boy had issues in the past with his relationships. Weasley had fought with Potter during their fourth year and it seemed like a year hadn't passed since the brats had come to Hogwarts that he and Granger hadn't had issues. So the boy obviously wasn't the pinnacle of sunshine and roses, but neither did he seem to be a bastard of a friend like Malfoy or Black. No, if the boy had any darkness in him, it was well hidden - until now.
Weasley didn't even wait until Friday to set himself up for his extra curricular lessons. Thursday brought the class in with the redheaded boy in the lead followed by Granger in tears surrounded by the rest of the Gryffindors. Weasley's smirk was a near duplicate of Draco's at his stubborn, selfish worst.
Now Severus became really concerned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus waited for the boy, irritated at his lack of punctuality once again. He was definitely going to have to speak to Ronald about it tonight. He’d finally devised a way to help the boy, if he would accept his professor’s help.
They’d been working for weeks at his occlumency. It turned out that the redheaded boy was much better equipped for the task than “The Boy Who Lived” had been the year before. Occlumency lessons were on the whole successful and Ronald seemed to make great strides in his ability to control his temper and manage his outbursts using the skill of blocking his mind against the scars' influence.
Suddenly, the door to Snape’s office opened with a bang and Ronald tumbled through, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The Gryffindor was covered in blood and his left eye was swollen, sure to be bruised and discolored in no time. Rushing over to help the boy to his feet, Severus helped him to his desk to check the extent of the damage.
As long fingers pushed and prodded at his injuries, Ronald hissed and groaned appropriately but not so much that Severus worried about the boy having anything broken and thus having to be taken to the infirmary. Instead, he went to his stash of potions, picked out two and handed them to the boy on his return. Blue eyes stared at him skeptically for a moment before Ron downed them both. Once the pain remedy began to take effect, Severus ran his wand over the worst of the wounds, chanting softly beneath his breath.
Once he felt the boy was at least marginally better than he had been when he'd stumbled in, Severus stared at him, settling on the edge of his own desk.
“What happened?” he asked point blank.
“Fight,” the boy responded gruffly.
“I can see that,” Severus snapped. “Care to tell me why?”
“No,” Ron growled, scowling at his professor. When Severus made it plain that he was not going to accept that answer, the boy sighed before continuing, “Ran into Malfoy and his shadows on the way here; words were exchanged, threats were made, then Malfoy decided that three on one sounded like good odds and he decided to sick his goons on me. End of story.”
Looking down his hooked nose, Severus took in the boy’s injures and figured the story was most likely accurate. Draco had been on edge for weeks despite Snape’s continual offers of help and support.
“Guess Harry was right about that prat after all.”
Severus bristled lightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just that Harry's been following Malfoy around," Ron explained. "He says he's sure the berk is up to something but I think he's just crushing on him."
"Crushing on him?"
"Come on," the boy laughed at the professor's expression. "Tell me you haven't noticed the tension between those two. They're always staring at each other, sneering and cursing at each other like they are better than the other. It's obvious they're just suffering from too much unresolved sexual tension."
Snape's brows rose as he stared the boy down.
"Is that so?"
Ron laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, that's so!"
"What do you know about it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Severus sensed the challenge and wanted to ask, wanted to know how repressed young Ronald really was but he decided to let it lie for now.
The two stared at each other for several long minutes, the silence stretching out between them as they each studied the other. When Ron's tongue snaked out lick the wide curve of his bottom lip, Severus decided he'd finally had enough.
"I have another idea that might help you with your…situation."
"Really?" Ron asked, a wicked smirk crossing his face.
"Yes."
"Go on then."
"When you find that the occlumency is not sufficient," Severus explained, "You have to simply hide what is inside you. You have to pretend to be what you are not to fool those around you until you can release that tension in an appropriate manner."
Ron gaped at him for a moment before bursting out in near hysterical laughter.
"That's - that's your brilliant plan?" the redheaded boy asked between gasped breaths. "You just want me to pretend? Like I hadn't been trying that already? Like I hadn't wanted to hide the fact that I'm a right pillock at times? You think it's that easy!?"
By the time he'd gotten to the end of his tirade, Ron was on his feet, panting and yelling into his professor's face. Severus simply stared him down, serenity and power emanating from his unblinking black eyes.
"Yes."
"Bloody buggering hell!" Ron shouted as he shook with rage. An impressive litany of curses flew from the young boy's lips and Severus waited until the boy had worn himself down. Once Ron's breathing had returned to normal, Snape leaned forward to stare into his livid blue eyes.
"What do you think I've been doing all these years, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, his voice quiet but harsh. "Living on both sides of the war, I have to be lying to someone, don't I? If either side thinks I am lying to them, it would mean my end. I have to play the pretender every day of my life simply to survive.
"You don't think there are others out there who don't pretend to be something they are not. They all pretend, Ronald. Every one of them. They pretend not to be afraid. They pretend not to care. They pretend they don't hurt."
Then the Slytherin leaned in even closer, his hot breath brushing against the boy's cheek.
"Tell me you've never had to pretend, Ron. Tell me."
The boy blinked, possibly fighting back tears that thrilled Severus more than he cared to think about, before he leaned even further into Severus' space, his lips practically brushing his professor's cheek as he whispered, "Never."
Severus chuckled under his breath, "Good. It's a start."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus had been impressed with Ron's progress. Even after the near tragedy of the boy's poisoning, he was doing better. Better, of course, was a relative term. The boy certainly still had his moments when he lost his control and lashed out at those around, but it was less vicious than before.
Needing an outlet for his anger, Snape had suggested Ron use his aggression in Quidditch, both in practice and in games. It seemed to do the trick as the boy seemed more relaxed than he had all year. Plus there was that obnoxious twit Ron insisted on calling a girlfriend. She seemed to be helping the boy's stress levels as well.
Nevertheless, Severus was worried. Ronald had become more and more blatant in his flirting with his professor, going so far as to display himself lewdly in his chair as Severus was lecturing or to brush up against him during practical. It was disconcerting, mostly because no one else seemed to notice. He'd tried to discourage the advances once it was clear that Ron was doing more than innocent flirting but the more he pushed the boy away, the worse Ron's temper became.
So he held the boy at arm's length while he strove to help him control his urges.
But Severus could only deny himself so much. He'd held himself apart from everyone else for so long and now he finally had someone who understood, who shared his secret, who wanted to know and understand. Several times Severus wondered how much of Ron's curiosity was from his scars and how much was his own. But sometimes, just the proximity of the boy was nearly more than Severus could endure.
The door opened and Ron walked in, smiling at his professor. Severus noted that the boy was dressed in his usual attire: form fitting denim, tight cotton shirt, ratty trainers and absent a proper robe. It was far too distracting.
As the boy settled him down in his normal chair, Snape noticed the boy looked more tired than usual. "Not sleeping well, Ronald?" he asked, fighting to keep the seduction out of his voice.
The boy snorted softly before locking eyes with his professor. "You planning on helping me with that?"
"I believe my charge was to help you deal with the aftermath of your folly at the Ministry of Magic," Severus tossed back.
"Yes, but it might help my temper." The boy had winked, actually winked at him and the Slytherin had to stand and adjust his robes before the boy discovered the affect he had on the older man.
"Am I to understand that your girlfriend is not adequate in that area?"
Ron actually laughed out loud at that, light and open. Severus decided it was beautiful on him.
"Or is that what's been keeping you up at night?"
The head of flame red hair shook and Ron sighed. "No. It's Harry, if you must know."
"What about him?" Severus asked.
The blue eyes that captured him were sharp and hard. "What do you care?" the boy asked harshly.
"Let's just say that maybe I've learned a little consideration for Mr. Potter's situation."
The moment stretched out between them before Ron smiled lightly. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Snape replied in his 'Professor voice'. "I suppose you could say that someone inform me that there could be more to Mr. Potter's situation than I was previously aware."
"Is that so?" the boy asked as he leaned back to sprawl in his chair, spreading his legs wide and putting himself on display.
"Yes, Ron. That's so." Severus answered as he decided to sit back and enjoy the show for once.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus stormed around his office, randomly kicking chairs and hexing empty jars on his shelf just to release some of rage simmering deep in his soul. It was too much, so much more than anyone should have to endure.
First he had to deal with Potter's mess after casting Sectumsempra. He was still in shock that "The Boy Who Lived" could use something so vicious so well. Draco had been cut deeply and it had taken every trick Severus knew to heal the wounds. The blond boy was going to be alright but Snape was more upset by Potter's lies than anything else. Detention for every Saturday for the remainder of the term was the worst punishment he can come up with if only to take away the boy's love of flying for a short time. Even that wouldn't cause the boy to admit that he had Severus' possession.
Then he'd met with Dumbledore and the Headmaster had asked him to do the impossible. Not asked, demanded. The Slytherin had tried everything; begging, pleading, yelling, but the old man would not see reason, would not give Severus a reprieve.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He couldn't believe the old man would ask him to do such a thing. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't make him do it.
"Can't make you do what?" the husky voice asked from the doorway.
Severus whipped around, his wand pointed at the person foolish enough to interrupt him when he was in such a mood. He snarled at the boy watching him before turning away.
"Go away," Snape barked, refusing to face the boy.
"No," Ron said, quiet and calm.
"It wasn't a request, Mr. Weasley. Leave."
"No," Ron growled directly behind him. "I don't want to."
The hand on his back was hot even through the heavy robes. He wanted to push into the touch, to feel it, to feel something other than this empty, hollow pain.
Instead, he struck out with his familiar shield of sarcasm. "What's the matter? Is your girlfriend snubbing you now so you have to come to me?"
"No girlfriend to snub me anymore," the boy answered softly, his body so close Severus could nearly feel the heat of his body burning him. "I just - I just want to help you."
"Help me!" Snape snapped as spun around to glare at the boy who dared to push him so hard, so far. "You want to help me?! What do you think you can do? You're a silly little boy with silly little boy ideas. You think the world is perfect and all you have to do is believe in your little friend and it will all be alright. But it won't be alright, Ronald. People are going to die and the world you know will change. So don't stand there and tell me you can help me!"
While Snape ranted, he watched as the relaxed demeanor slid from the boy's face to be replaced by hate and rage. Once he was done yelling, Ron's smirked, a single corner of his mouth quirking up at him.
"You think I don't know about any of that, do you?" the boy whispered, his voice tight and low. "You think I haven't seen pain and death. You know what? You're right, Severus. What do I know? I didn't have to deal with Cedric's death, hearing Harry have nightmares about watching him killed right before him night after night. I didn't think my sister was going to die after she was possessed and hidden beneath the school. I didn't have to deal with my father nearly dying after being bitten by a giant bloody snake! No, Severus, you're right. You're special. You're the only one who has to deal with pain and adversity. You don't need any help, do you, you stupid greasy git!"
Angrily, Snape reached out to grab the boy, to shake him out of rage but when his fingers touched the bare skin of the boy's arm's there was no jolt, no burn. Wrenching up the short sleeves of the shirt, Severus was surprised to see the scars laying quiet on the boy's skin, pink and dormant.
"How..?" the professor asked, shocked.
Ron smirked at him before whispering, "I learned from the best."
Before he could react, Severus felt the boy's fingers twisting the front his robes and pulling him in close. Hot lips pressed against his own, crushing his lips against his teeth. He knew he should fight this, should push the boy away, but he couldn't, not now. So he wrapped his arms around the redheaded boy clinging to him and crushed the lithe body to him.
Fingers turned to claws as the two men grasped at each other, pulling at fabric and kneading at the flesh beneath. Lips parted as tongues sought out its twin, fighting for dominance. The kiss was brutal, full of teeth and tongue, as each man tasted and tested the other.
Through the haze of his lust, Severus felt clumsy fingers pulling at the many buttons of his robes.
"No," he growled as he slapped away the greedy hands. There was no time for that. There was need and now and take and have. Reaching over, he quickly stripped off the boy's offending shirt before tearing open the button and zip on the denim jeans. He sealed his lips over the boy's mouth as he let out a loud groan as Snape's hands dove beneath the fabric to find the boy's cock hard and leaking.
He touched the boy with teasing strokes of his fingertips and Ron sagged against him, whimpering deep in his throat. Severus smiled against the needy lips as the boy's hips snapped forward, seeking his touch. He took one step, then another to press Ron against his desk. With a dramatic sweep of his arm, the desktop was cleared and Snape pressed the boy down on the hard, unforgiving surface. As he stood, he looked down at the boy and he felt a moment of conscience until Ron grabbed his robe and growled, "Do it."
"Roll over," Snape ordered.
Ron complied quickly, his body arching against the cool wood beneath his hot skin. Wasting no time, Severus quickly opened his trousers, releasing his cock to the cool night air. Withdrawing his wand from the folds of his robes, he cast a quick lubrication spell, grinning wickedly as Ron gasped at the sensation.
Leaning his body over the boy's back, Severus slowly slid a fingertip over the slick skin. He massaged the tight ring of muscles for a moment before stealing inside. A soft gasp escaped Ron's lips before he sighed and relaxed into the sensation. Snape let his teeth scrape over the skin on the back of the boy's neck, enjoying the whine that resulted.
Soon a second finger joined the first and Severus quickly worked Ron into a frenzy. Stroking and pressing him deep inside, Snape waited until the boy was pushing back, silently begging for more. Slicking himself quickly, he positioned himself at the boy's entrance, waiting for a moment before pressing forward.
The boy cried out at the intrusion and Severus waited for some sign that he was ready for more. Eventually, Ron pushed back, pressing against Snape. Severus took a deep breath, pulled out and slammed home. Both he and Ron cried out as he set a brutal pace. Thrust and retreat with no pause, he took the boy hard and fast. Bracing his hands on the desk on either side of the boy's head, Snape shifted, searching for the perfect angle. He knew he'd found it when Ron's head shot up with a gasp and a curse.
His thrusts were punishing and the room was filled with the sounds of the slapping of skin on skin. Reaching for the boy's hardness, Severus licked the shell of Ron's ear before commanding, "Come for me," biting the boy's earlobe hard.
With a harsh cry, the boy was spilling over the desk. The feeling of the boy pulsing around him sent Snape over the edge and he came hard, deep inside the body beneath him. They lay joined together for several long minutes, panting and shaking. Finally, the Slytherin straightened up, slowly sliding from the boy's snug body. He fixed his robes before righting Ron's jeans and helping the boy to stand.
Before he could do or say anything, the redheaded boy was in his arms, clinging to him. Slowly, they slid to the floor, wrapped around each other. Severus took the time enjoy the luxury of stroking the soft, tender flesh.
For a moment, he could almost convince himself that Ron had fallen asleep, but quietly, the boy asked, "So everything's going to change now?"
"Yes, Ron. I think it's safe to say that everything is going to change now."
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Sweat dripped off his skin, dampening the inky strands of hair clinging to his face and neck as he ran and ran, Draco Malfoy tucked under his arm as he strove for the edge of the wards. He knew he was being followed, knew that Harry had seen what he’d done, what he’d been forced to do, and he knew that the boy wouldn’t understand.
The scratching of his robes, the tightness in his chest, the punch of cold night air against his overheated skin should have been a distraction, should have been a problem, but didn’t feel them.
In fact, he didn’t feel a thing.
The moment the curse fell from his lips, the instant the flash of bright green light hit his mentor and teacher, he felt a piece of him die. Now he was running from his home, his life, from himself.
He heard the curses being hurled behind him, hate filled words that should have felt like a victory. Finally, he’d gotten to that boy, broken him, hurt him more than any other. Instead, he pitied him, knowing the trials Harry was about to face.
Spinning, he deflected each curse with a simple wave of his wand. He watched the anger grow in the emerald-colored eyes, wanting to be pleased with the triumph and failing. He threw taunts at the boy, hoping that cruelty would fill the void inside him but they sounded harsh and flat to his own ears.
Harry tried an Unforgivable and Snape knocked the spell away easily, feeling the curse building before the boy even said a word. The boy tried it again and Snape chuckled mirthlessly.
"No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter," he shouted. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability..."
Another curse fell from the boy's lips and was easily blocked again.
"Fight back!" Harry screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly..."
"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" shouted Snape. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"
Harry tried again, failing miserably. Severus shook his head, amazed that the boy still refused to learn. The professor was determined to teach him, one way or another.
"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter! Maybe you should take some lessons from Weasley. And least he discovered how to hide things, even from you."
Snape had to yell at the idiot Death Eaters the Dark Lord had sent for the battle. Killing the boy would bring about the wrath of Voldemort and Snape was willing to teach him, but not like this. Harry stood and concentrated.
Anger and pride grew inside Severus. Finally, he was beginning to feel something again. He quickly deflected the Levicorpus spell and throwing Harry into the air. He moved to stand over the prone, wandless boy.
"No, Potter!" he screamed as he felt the familiar pull of the wordless spell from the boy. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them - I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my invention on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so...no!"
"Kill me then," the boy panted, his face a mask of rage and contempt, matching Snape's own. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward - "
The pain he'd thought lost surged forward and Snape's knees nearly buckled at the immense ache in the darkest corner of his soul.
"Don't call me coward! he screamed at the ignorant boy. He didn't know, couldn't know, the anguish and pain tearing him up from the inside out. Viciously, he slashed out at Harry, throwing the boy several feet into the air, restraining himself from seriously harming him as he so wanted to do.
With a great whoosh, an enormous Hippogriff swooped down to attack him and Severus ran for the gates once again. As he reached the edge of the wards, he turned to take one look back at the school, the only place he'd ever really considered home. Standing just outside the main entry of the great castle, a figure silently watched. Severus could just make out the mane of red hair flying around the boy's head. Illuminated by the fire of Hagrid's hut and the spells flying behind him, Snape could swear Ron looked as if he had been consumed by flames. Fitting, he thought, considering the boy set him ablaze in a way he'd never thought possible.
Snape stood frozen for a long moment, taking in the sight of Ron, knowing it would probably be his last chance in this lifetime.
Staring at the boy, Severus straightened up, closed off his mind and made sure his mask was firmly in place. It was time to pretend.
With a single nod to the redheaded boy staring at him, Snape turned and Disapparated away.
~~~~The End~~~~