TSFE: Chapter 13
Title: The San Francisco Effect (13/?)
Author: Tayefeth
Rating: NC-21/M/No kiddies/adults only
Pairing: SS/HP
Beta: The ineffable ook, who should be getting Chapter 14 RSN...
Author's Note: Previous chapters are subject to (not necessarily posted) revision. Contains graphic descriptions of rape, torture, and PTSD. May be triggering. I don't own these boys, and I can't afford to pay anyone's therapy bills. The Mr. Malfoy mentioned in this chapter is only vaguely related to Draco and Lucius. To quote a bit of the revised Chapter 11, "[T]he only thing the boy had inherited from his infamous third cousins had been the name. Not the looks, not the fortune, not even much of the arrogance."
Severus decided to take his meals in his quarters for the rest of the term. Let Minerva figure out how to explain his absence if she wanted to. It was only two weeks until the brats left, anyway. He managed to face his classes only by being harsher than ever, demanding absolute silence and taking points from a number of students for offences such as breathing (in Mr. Hampson’s case) or existing (in Mr. Malfoy’s case).
Tuesday, and then Wednesday, passed without anything Severus was willing to call an incident. That blasted house elf looked at him askance when he hardly touched his supper, but as he often picked at his meals, he couldn’t work up enough indignation to yell at the creature. It was Harry’s favourite, so it was unlikely to report to Minerva anyway.
#
Severus knelt in front of the Dark Lord, apologizing yet again for failing to bring Harry Potter to his death. He knew that the Dark Lord was unlikely to accept any of his excuses this time. They had become as threadbare as Lupin’s robes.
“I being to suspect that you aren’t trying.”
Severus shivered mentally and concentrated on the deception he and Albus had planned.
“Legilimens.”
The Dark Lord thundered into his mind, ripping through the barriers at the edges. Severus heard himself whimper as the Dark Lord plundered the exposed memories. Albus had been so certain this would work...
The Dark Lord seized the thread of memory Albus had suggested he leave exposed for the first time and pulled. Severus screamed. Why hadn’t Albus warned him this would hurt?
The Dark Lord found the carefully worn edges of the Praeventatis, and Severus held his breath. Voldemort simply shredded the spell rather than countering it, tearing Severus’s nerves into an unimagined agony. When the pain ended, Severus tried to breathe. He had to know if the Dark Lord still suspected his treachery.
“He is merely flawed, not traitorous.”
Relief dragged Severus into brief, blissful unconsciousness. He couldn’t listen to what the Dark Lord was saying, no matter how vital it might be to the Order.
Severus heard Lucius’s voice as cold air drifted across his suddenly naked back. No, this couldn’t be happening. Lucius’s hands grabbed him, lifting him by the hips. Albus had said the Dark Lord would just dismiss him.
A sharp finger stuck his arsehole. “A virgin, I think, gentlemen.” How could Lucius sound so pleased? “I hope you don’t expect roses for your deflowering, Severus.” Lucius leaned forward to whisper in Severus’s ear. “That’s for actual women, not perverts like you.”
The finger left, and a cock slammed into Severus. Pain ripped through him, and he screamed. The Death Eaters, his colleagues, laughed.
#
Severus woke screaming. In the main room, he heard a crash and a rumble, and then Harry, still sooty from the Floo, ran into his room. Skidding to a halt next to the bed, Harry fluttered, touching the air around Severus, rather than Severus himself. Severus fought his body’s desire to shrink away from Harry. He would not show his cowardice to the Embodiment of Gryffindor.
Minerva’s sharp bootheels clicked on the stone floor of his hearth. He struggled to get his breath before she saw him like this.
Harry sank to his knees next to the bed and his hands stopped fluttering. “Severus, what happened?” Severus tried to pull himself away from the memories on the gentle strength in Harry’s voice.
Severus hid behind his hair and watched Minerva. She didn’t stride to his bedside in her usual manner, nor did she say anything, though she gave Harry a sharp look. Harry didn’t answer it. He seemed turned to stone, looking up at Severus.
Harry’s green eyes, so different from the Dark Lord’s red eyes, finally gave Severus enough courage to draw a full breath. One of Harry’s hands snuck closer to his leg, as if unsure of its welcome.
Minerva huffed, sounding impatient. “I suppose since you’re not in any mortal danger, Harry and I can leave you to your rest and reclaim our own.”
Severus stiffened. He didn’t want Harry and Minerva to witness his weakness, but if they left, if they abandoned him... The memories lurked at the edges of sleep.
“You go on, Minerva. I’ll just make sure Severus can get back to sleep.”
“Harry, it is not seemly for you, of all people, to be here in the first place. Your reputation for inappropriate behavior-”
“Is ineradicable, I’m afraid, Minerva. I’m staying until Severus asks me to leave.” Harry showed no sign of getting up, confident that Minerva wouldn’t dare to move him against his will. Severus would have given his eyeteeth for Harry’s certainty.
Minerva sputtered, turning towards Severus. “Severus, don’t hesitate to call me if I can help you.”
Severus nodded without lifting his head. If that woman would just leave... Finally, she did, bootheels clicking on the hearth as she Floo’d out.
Severus reinforced his habitual Occlumency. Harry couldn’t see the disgusting images that haunted him. He stifled an entirely inappropriate giggle at the thought of how irate he had been when Harry had seen his childhood humiliation.
He caught sight of a faint smile on Harry’s lips. “What?”
“You looked, just for a moment, as if you were thinking something funny.” Harry’s warm voice softened the edges of his nightmare’s terror. Severus shook his head again. His body, fickle thing that it was, now wanted to get closer to Harry.
“Severus?”
Forcing himself to move, Severus looked up. “I will survive, Mr. Potter. You needn’t trouble yourself about me any further.”
“I may not need to, but I want to. Do you want to tell me what made you scream loud enough to wake your snake, and trip Minerva’s monitoring charm?”
Severus shook his head, lacing his fingers carefully together on his knees.
“You’re sure?” Was he sure? Severus wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He hugged his knees tighter and said nothing.
After a moment, Harry’s fingers brushed at Severus’s hair. Lucius’s breath, hot against his temple. Severus flinched, falling away from Harry. “No!”
“I’m sorry, Severus.” Harry sounded worried as Severus curled up, his back to the Interfering Prat. “I’m really sorry. I won’t touch you again.”
Harry sat silently, though Severus could feel his attention. Irritation, at his own weakness, at Harry’s ridiculous claims of interest, at Harry’s damnable persistence, warmed him somewhat.
“It was just a nightmare, Potter. I don’t need a nanny.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No!”
“Do you want to tell Chris about it? It’s still daytime in the Bay Area...”
Severus thought about what Chris had said only two days earlier. That Severus felt safe enough to remember this nastiness. He didn’t. He would never be safe enough to talk about Lucius’s hands, or MacNair’s whip, or Rudolphus’s knives. Never. He didn’t want to be safe if he had to talk about what the Death Eaters had done to him, at the Dark Lord’s request. Or what he had done at Dumbledore’s request.
Dumbledore had begun it all. Had suggested, with that damnable twinkle in his eyes, that perhaps Severus could divert the Dark Lord from discovering Severus’s treachery by dangling something else in front of him. Dumbledore had been delighted when Severus had reported that the Dark Lord had not barred his return. Had, in fact, insisted on it. Dumbledore had never asked where the bruises came from, or changed his plans because of Poppy’s angry recitals of Severus’s injuries.
Dumbledore had always favored the Gryffindors, especially the Potters. Had put James’s friendships ahead of Severus’s fears. Had put Harry’s happiness ahead of Severus’s safety. Harry’s morale-raising value ahead of Harry’s safety, though. Dumbledore had never trained Harry the way he’d needed to be trained, insisting that Harry’s love alone would defeat the Dark Lord. Harry had trained himself admirably, and then, at the end, had asked Severus for help. For the knowledge Dumbledore had tried to withhold. The knowledge that had, finally, brought down the Dark Lord.
Severus rolled over, carding his hair over his face so that he didn’t have to look directly at Harry. “Stay?”
“For as long as you want me to.” Harry smiled, stroking the coverlet at the edge of the bed as Severus drifted back to sleep.
#
Harry was asleep with his head on the edge of the bed when Severus woke. Harry drooled on the coverlet, his mouth slightly open. Severus tried to understand why he wanted to be anywhere near the man who had so totally disrupted his world. Granted, he hadn’t been particularly fond of his world before Harry returned, but he’d been used to it. He’d known what to expect. He had no idea what to expect now.
Severus stretched. His limp cock brushed against the cool cotton sheet and began to tighten in the hope that Harry would touch him. Guilt and fear chased Severus into the bathroom. Guilt that he couldn’t overcome his perversions, and fear that he didn’t actually want to.
#
When Severus had another nightmare the following night, Harry waited, not quite hiding his impatience, until Minerva left, and then transfigured Severus’s bedroom chair into a cot.
“Did I ask you to babysit me, Potter?”
“No, but you asked me to stay last night. Maybe I’ll be able to wake you before the next nightmare trips Minerva’s monitors.”
“What makes you think there will be another one?” Severus tried for a dismissive tone, but judging by Harry’s skeptical look, he hadn’t succeeded.
“Do you want me to leave, Severus?”
“Yes,” Severus lied. He smirked at Harry’s faintly shocked look and managed to hold the expression while Harry returned his chair to its proper shape.
“Alright. Sleep well, Severus.”
Severus grunted, turning away before Harry could do something ridiculous like kiss him. Severus did not want a goodnight kiss from Harry Potter. The very idea was... ridiculous.
Severus lay awake once Harry left. His dignity would not survive a second nightmare after dismissing both his guardians. How had he been reduced to needing a nanny? He hadn’t been able to sleep with someone else in the room since he’d ceased being a student at this miserable school. Someone else in the room meant the possibility of assault, of sex, of pain, and the virtual certainty of humiliation. Why was it so hard to sleep in an empty room now?
#
Next
Author: Tayefeth
Rating: NC-21/M/No kiddies/adults only
Pairing: SS/HP
Beta: The ineffable ook, who should be getting Chapter 14 RSN...
Author's Note: Previous chapters are subject to (not necessarily posted) revision. Contains graphic descriptions of rape, torture, and PTSD. May be triggering. I don't own these boys, and I can't afford to pay anyone's therapy bills. The Mr. Malfoy mentioned in this chapter is only vaguely related to Draco and Lucius. To quote a bit of the revised Chapter 11, "[T]he only thing the boy had inherited from his infamous third cousins had been the name. Not the looks, not the fortune, not even much of the arrogance."
Severus decided to take his meals in his quarters for the rest of the term. Let Minerva figure out how to explain his absence if she wanted to. It was only two weeks until the brats left, anyway. He managed to face his classes only by being harsher than ever, demanding absolute silence and taking points from a number of students for offences such as breathing (in Mr. Hampson’s case) or existing (in Mr. Malfoy’s case).
Tuesday, and then Wednesday, passed without anything Severus was willing to call an incident. That blasted house elf looked at him askance when he hardly touched his supper, but as he often picked at his meals, he couldn’t work up enough indignation to yell at the creature. It was Harry’s favourite, so it was unlikely to report to Minerva anyway.
#
Severus knelt in front of the Dark Lord, apologizing yet again for failing to bring Harry Potter to his death. He knew that the Dark Lord was unlikely to accept any of his excuses this time. They had become as threadbare as Lupin’s robes.
“I being to suspect that you aren’t trying.”
Severus shivered mentally and concentrated on the deception he and Albus had planned.
“Legilimens.”
The Dark Lord thundered into his mind, ripping through the barriers at the edges. Severus heard himself whimper as the Dark Lord plundered the exposed memories. Albus had been so certain this would work...
The Dark Lord seized the thread of memory Albus had suggested he leave exposed for the first time and pulled. Severus screamed. Why hadn’t Albus warned him this would hurt?
The Dark Lord found the carefully worn edges of the Praeventatis, and Severus held his breath. Voldemort simply shredded the spell rather than countering it, tearing Severus’s nerves into an unimagined agony. When the pain ended, Severus tried to breathe. He had to know if the Dark Lord still suspected his treachery.
“He is merely flawed, not traitorous.”
Relief dragged Severus into brief, blissful unconsciousness. He couldn’t listen to what the Dark Lord was saying, no matter how vital it might be to the Order.
Severus heard Lucius’s voice as cold air drifted across his suddenly naked back. No, this couldn’t be happening. Lucius’s hands grabbed him, lifting him by the hips. Albus had said the Dark Lord would just dismiss him.
A sharp finger stuck his arsehole. “A virgin, I think, gentlemen.” How could Lucius sound so pleased? “I hope you don’t expect roses for your deflowering, Severus.” Lucius leaned forward to whisper in Severus’s ear. “That’s for actual women, not perverts like you.”
The finger left, and a cock slammed into Severus. Pain ripped through him, and he screamed. The Death Eaters, his colleagues, laughed.
#
Severus woke screaming. In the main room, he heard a crash and a rumble, and then Harry, still sooty from the Floo, ran into his room. Skidding to a halt next to the bed, Harry fluttered, touching the air around Severus, rather than Severus himself. Severus fought his body’s desire to shrink away from Harry. He would not show his cowardice to the Embodiment of Gryffindor.
Minerva’s sharp bootheels clicked on the stone floor of his hearth. He struggled to get his breath before she saw him like this.
Harry sank to his knees next to the bed and his hands stopped fluttering. “Severus, what happened?” Severus tried to pull himself away from the memories on the gentle strength in Harry’s voice.
Severus hid behind his hair and watched Minerva. She didn’t stride to his bedside in her usual manner, nor did she say anything, though she gave Harry a sharp look. Harry didn’t answer it. He seemed turned to stone, looking up at Severus.
Harry’s green eyes, so different from the Dark Lord’s red eyes, finally gave Severus enough courage to draw a full breath. One of Harry’s hands snuck closer to his leg, as if unsure of its welcome.
Minerva huffed, sounding impatient. “I suppose since you’re not in any mortal danger, Harry and I can leave you to your rest and reclaim our own.”
Severus stiffened. He didn’t want Harry and Minerva to witness his weakness, but if they left, if they abandoned him... The memories lurked at the edges of sleep.
“You go on, Minerva. I’ll just make sure Severus can get back to sleep.”
“Harry, it is not seemly for you, of all people, to be here in the first place. Your reputation for inappropriate behavior-”
“Is ineradicable, I’m afraid, Minerva. I’m staying until Severus asks me to leave.” Harry showed no sign of getting up, confident that Minerva wouldn’t dare to move him against his will. Severus would have given his eyeteeth for Harry’s certainty.
Minerva sputtered, turning towards Severus. “Severus, don’t hesitate to call me if I can help you.”
Severus nodded without lifting his head. If that woman would just leave... Finally, she did, bootheels clicking on the hearth as she Floo’d out.
Severus reinforced his habitual Occlumency. Harry couldn’t see the disgusting images that haunted him. He stifled an entirely inappropriate giggle at the thought of how irate he had been when Harry had seen his childhood humiliation.
He caught sight of a faint smile on Harry’s lips. “What?”
“You looked, just for a moment, as if you were thinking something funny.” Harry’s warm voice softened the edges of his nightmare’s terror. Severus shook his head again. His body, fickle thing that it was, now wanted to get closer to Harry.
“Severus?”
Forcing himself to move, Severus looked up. “I will survive, Mr. Potter. You needn’t trouble yourself about me any further.”
“I may not need to, but I want to. Do you want to tell me what made you scream loud enough to wake your snake, and trip Minerva’s monitoring charm?”
Severus shook his head, lacing his fingers carefully together on his knees.
“You’re sure?” Was he sure? Severus wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He hugged his knees tighter and said nothing.
After a moment, Harry’s fingers brushed at Severus’s hair. Lucius’s breath, hot against his temple. Severus flinched, falling away from Harry. “No!”
“I’m sorry, Severus.” Harry sounded worried as Severus curled up, his back to the Interfering Prat. “I’m really sorry. I won’t touch you again.”
Harry sat silently, though Severus could feel his attention. Irritation, at his own weakness, at Harry’s ridiculous claims of interest, at Harry’s damnable persistence, warmed him somewhat.
“It was just a nightmare, Potter. I don’t need a nanny.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No!”
“Do you want to tell Chris about it? It’s still daytime in the Bay Area...”
Severus thought about what Chris had said only two days earlier. That Severus felt safe enough to remember this nastiness. He didn’t. He would never be safe enough to talk about Lucius’s hands, or MacNair’s whip, or Rudolphus’s knives. Never. He didn’t want to be safe if he had to talk about what the Death Eaters had done to him, at the Dark Lord’s request. Or what he had done at Dumbledore’s request.
Dumbledore had begun it all. Had suggested, with that damnable twinkle in his eyes, that perhaps Severus could divert the Dark Lord from discovering Severus’s treachery by dangling something else in front of him. Dumbledore had been delighted when Severus had reported that the Dark Lord had not barred his return. Had, in fact, insisted on it. Dumbledore had never asked where the bruises came from, or changed his plans because of Poppy’s angry recitals of Severus’s injuries.
Dumbledore had always favored the Gryffindors, especially the Potters. Had put James’s friendships ahead of Severus’s fears. Had put Harry’s happiness ahead of Severus’s safety. Harry’s morale-raising value ahead of Harry’s safety, though. Dumbledore had never trained Harry the way he’d needed to be trained, insisting that Harry’s love alone would defeat the Dark Lord. Harry had trained himself admirably, and then, at the end, had asked Severus for help. For the knowledge Dumbledore had tried to withhold. The knowledge that had, finally, brought down the Dark Lord.
Severus rolled over, carding his hair over his face so that he didn’t have to look directly at Harry. “Stay?”
“For as long as you want me to.” Harry smiled, stroking the coverlet at the edge of the bed as Severus drifted back to sleep.
#
Harry was asleep with his head on the edge of the bed when Severus woke. Harry drooled on the coverlet, his mouth slightly open. Severus tried to understand why he wanted to be anywhere near the man who had so totally disrupted his world. Granted, he hadn’t been particularly fond of his world before Harry returned, but he’d been used to it. He’d known what to expect. He had no idea what to expect now.
Severus stretched. His limp cock brushed against the cool cotton sheet and began to tighten in the hope that Harry would touch him. Guilt and fear chased Severus into the bathroom. Guilt that he couldn’t overcome his perversions, and fear that he didn’t actually want to.
#
When Severus had another nightmare the following night, Harry waited, not quite hiding his impatience, until Minerva left, and then transfigured Severus’s bedroom chair into a cot.
“Did I ask you to babysit me, Potter?”
“No, but you asked me to stay last night. Maybe I’ll be able to wake you before the next nightmare trips Minerva’s monitors.”
“What makes you think there will be another one?” Severus tried for a dismissive tone, but judging by Harry’s skeptical look, he hadn’t succeeded.
“Do you want me to leave, Severus?”
“Yes,” Severus lied. He smirked at Harry’s faintly shocked look and managed to hold the expression while Harry returned his chair to its proper shape.
“Alright. Sleep well, Severus.”
Severus grunted, turning away before Harry could do something ridiculous like kiss him. Severus did not want a goodnight kiss from Harry Potter. The very idea was... ridiculous.
Severus lay awake once Harry left. His dignity would not survive a second nightmare after dismissing both his guardians. How had he been reduced to needing a nanny? He hadn’t been able to sleep with someone else in the room since he’d ceased being a student at this miserable school. Someone else in the room meant the possibility of assault, of sex, of pain, and the virtual certainty of humiliation. Why was it so hard to sleep in an empty room now?
#
Next