Snarry-a-Thon11: FIC: Normal States of Mind Title: Normal States of Mind Author:hpstrangelove Other pairings/threesome: Ginny/Harry Rating: NC-17 Word count: 8,963 Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Dub-con, BDSM, adultery.* Prompt: #177, submitted by winoniel – Harry, after the fall of Voldemort wants only to be 'normal' at all costs. He becomes an Auror, marries Ginny, has three children, and fantasizes about being controlled and dominated by another man. Horrified, he goes to Snape and asks for his memories to be removed. Snape has other ideas. Summary: After his youngest child leaves for Hogwarts, Harry is plagued by dreams of a dark-robed man, a stranger whose face he can’t see. Harry seeks Snape’s help in alleviating his dreams. A/N: A special thanks to my beta R, and to S for Britpicking. This story is dedicated to winoniel for inspiring me with such a wonderful prompt.
Normal States of Mind
He was kneeling, naked, his wrists bound in front of him with rope. Even though he was blindfolded, he could sense someone else in the room.
It felt cool and damp, probably underground. The floor was made of some sort of roughly carved stone. It was hard under his knees. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in this position, but he was beginning to lose feeling in his legs.
He thought he was being stared at. The uncertainty made his cock hard. He should be afraid. He couldn’t recall how he’d got here. He tried to think of where he’d been, the circumstances of his abduction, but the memories were hazy.
He heard the rustle of fabric and felt his body stiffen. Footsteps moving toward him. His heart picked up speed. He licked his lower lip, tightening his jaw so that he wouldn’t speak. He’d learned the hard way to not talk unless given permission. Doing so had earned him several hard backhands across the mouth.
He flinched when he felt a dry palm caress the side of his face, followed by a low, rumbling laugh. A shiver went up his spine and his cock twitched slightly when the man spoke.
“You were doing so well, and then you pull away from my touch. You know you will be punished for that, but later. I have something else in mind for you right now.”
Harry heard the sound of a chain from above, clinking noisily as it was lowered down. The man took Harry’s wrists and attached them to the chain, then wenched the chain back up, taking Harry’s arms over his head, forcing him to rise from his knees as it went higher. It was difficult to stand. He had to let his arms do most of the work, taking his weight, because his legs were not only numb, but were spread wide, a manacle around each ankle keeping him tethered to the floor.
The chain continued to lift him up until he was standing on the balls of his feet. He hung from the ceiling, utterly helpless. His shoulders were already beginning to ache. He felt like a piece of meat on display in a butcher’s shop. The thought that every part of his body was open and accessible to his captor made his stomach lurch.
But the worst thing about being splayed open like this was that he couldn’t hide the way his cock jutted out in front, hard and erect, dripping with precome in anticipation of the pain to follow.
He felt his captor move behind him, close enough to feel the man’s breath on the back of his neck when he spoke.
“You look beautiful like this. I’ve missed you. It’s been too long. I knew you’d be back.”
The man began to plant light kisses on Harry’s neck. Harry did his best to stay still, but he couldn’t suppress a small moan. His neck was one of his most sensitive places, something his captor had quickly discovered, and took advantage of.
The man was fully clothed; Harry could feel the rough prickly texture of the fabric as the man pressed his body against Harry’s, continuing to suck and bite. With his right hand, he began to pinch and twist Harry’s nipple; his left cupped and massaged Harry’s balls, rolling them around in the sac.
“I have something special for you,” the man whispered hotly in Harry’s ear. “A welcome back present, in a way. I’ve been saving it for your return.”
His captor suddenly released him, moved somewhere off to his right. A moment later, a cool strip of soft leather – he knew it was leather by the slightly sweet, earthy smell – teased along his back, starting between his shoulder blades, down his spine, making several passes across his buttocks, then down along his thighs. For a second, it was gone, only to reappear along his stomach. He couldn’t keep from trying to twist away from it – the touch was so light, it tickled.
He knew the touch wouldn’t be light for long. This was the way his captor used to tell him what to expect, where the blows would make contact.
Too soon, the touch of the leather was gone. Harry stilled, his muscles tensing. He felt his captor’s hand rub along his arse, giving it a light squeeze.
“Are you ready?” the man asked.
It didn’t matter if he was ready or not – his captor would do whatever he wanted. Harry had already found that out too, once, when he’d mouthed back that he was never ready for any of it.
This time, he merely nodded.
A swishing sound, followed by a loud crack. Harry gasped as the pain in his backside flared, then took hold, traveling through his body like a jolt of electricity. He didn’t even have a chance to take a breath before the next blow landed, this one on his thighs, followed immediately by a third, to his upper back. His eyes were wet. Sweat broke out over his back and chest. He jerked against his chains, tilting his hips forward, his cock so hard it hurt almost as much as the places on his body that had been struck by the leather. He couldn’t hold out much longer – the next one would surely do it.
Another blow to his arse, harder than the first, then one across his stomach. He threw his head back and screamed, his orgasm shuddering through him as the leather came down against his pulsing cock. His world went white with stars, then he felt his consciousness mercifully slip away.
*~*~*~*~*~
Morning sunlight was just beginning to stream in through the window, falling warm over Harry’s face. His eyes blinked slowly open. He didn’t know where he was at first. It took a long moment for his brain to process what his eyes were seeing – he was in the guest room of his own home.
Then it all came flooding back. He’d had another dream, the sticky evidence still damp in his pants. He groaned in frustration.
He’d been having the dreams since September. Lily had gone off to Hogwarts, leaving him and Ginny the only ones in the house. They’d been growing apart for a while. For Ginny, the fantasy of being married to Harry Potter was much different than the reality. They seemed as if they were more roommates than husband and wife. They were lucky to have sex once a month, and then it seemed like Ginny was doing it as a favour, anxious to get it over with and get to sleep. He thought that once Lily was gone, they’d be able to concentrate on getting to know each other again.
But the first time they’d tried to have sex, Harry couldn’t get hard. Ginny hadn’t seemed to be upset, attributing it to the three glasses of wine Harry had had at dinner, along with the fact that he was ‘getting older and things like that were bound to happen once in a while’.
Later that night, he’d had the first dream. He’d woken up with a shout, scaring Ginny half to death. He couldn’t tell her what the dream had actually been about – a man in a dark robe, a hood covering his face, was giving Harry a hand job while Harry was tied naked to a chair – so he’d told her he’d had a flashback to the time he’d faced Voldemort in the graveyard during the Triwizard Tournament.
When the same thing happened again, two nights later, Ginny told him he’d have to move into the guest room so he wouldn’t keep waking her up. He’d been there ever since, going on ten weeks now. The dreams horrified him – he was always bound in some way, always naked. The same man was always there, too, in black robes, his face hidden from Harry’s view, or Harry would be blindfolded, unable to see the man’s face. He did things to Harry that he’d never known were possible, things that confused pain with pleasure. Harry begged for it to stop, begged for there to be more, begged to be allowed to come – and come he did, the remains of his dreams staining his pants.
The one time in the past ten weeks that he had been able to complete the act with Ginny, he’d had to think of the man in his dreams, whipping him, in order to get hard…
It had to stop! What was wrong with him? This wasn’t normal. Had he been hit by a curse? Had he touched a dark artifact during one of their raids on smuggled contraband? He couldn’t remember.
He didn’t want to go to St. Mungo’s – too many walls with ears there to report back to the Daily Prophet. He could see the headline now:
Saviour of the Wizarding World Has Bondage Kink!
He rubbed his hands over his face. He had to do something.
There was one possibility – Lucas Daniels. He was a psychiatrist at St. Mungo’s – young, Muggle-born, in his late twenties – and a close friend of Neville Longbottom. Neville and Lucas had met during one of Neville’s visits to his parents. Harry had gone to dinner with them once and found Lucas to be fun and easy to talk to. He might be willing to meet with Harry privately, away from St. Mungo’s. If he said no, Harry wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now.
*~*~*~*~*~
“Harry, it’s so good to see you again.” Lucas ushered Harry into a neat-looking office. He lived alone in a small flat several streets away from St. Mungo’s. He occasionally saw patients in his home, so had no problem with meeting Harry here.
“Have a seat.” He indicated a comfortable-looking leather chair set in front of a large, polished antique desk. “Would you like some tea?” Lucas asked.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Harry was nervous. He sat with his hands in his lap, trying to keep them still – he didn’t think he could hold a cup of tea without spilling it. He’d made the appointment two days ago and had almost canceled at the last minute, but he’d had another dream last night. He had to have help.
There was a moment of silence as Lucas settled in his chair at the desk, then he smiled warmly at Harry. “I know that this isn’t a social call, and I understand your concerns about keeping this private. Rest assured, I am bound by law to keep our talk confidential. Even so, I want you to know that I would never do anything to betray the trust you’ve put in me. You’re probably used to hearing it by now, but I feel I owe you a debt of gratitude for everything you’ve done in keeping the wizarding world open to us Muggle-borns. I might never have been able to attend Hogwarts if it hadn’t been for you. I’m honoured to do whatever I can to help you in any way.”
Harry blushed. “Thank you, Lucas. I appreciate you seeing me like this. I…” He paused. He had no idea what to say. How could he put into words the content of the dreams? Worse yet, how could he admit to Lucas that the dreams aroused him? He looked at Lucas, his mouth open, unable to continue.
“It’s all right, Harry,” Lucas replied in a soft, comforting tone. “Whatever the problem is, I won’t judge you. Sometimes simply talking about it, getting it out into the open, is enough to take care of it.”
Harry looked down at his hands, squeezing them tightly together. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he replied, sure that he hadn’t been able to keep the desperation out of his voice.
Lucas cleared his throat. “Well, there is an alternative to telling me about what’s wrong. I’m skilled in Legilimency, licensed to practice it for medical purposes.”
Harry looked up quickly. “You can use Legilimency on me, to see…” He paused again, leaving the rest of his question unspoken.
“As long as you don’t try and use Occlumency to keep me out, then yes, I can use Legilimency to extract your emotions and memories. It would help if you brought what was troubling you to the forefront of your mind, so I’m sure I’m understanding your problem correctly.”
“I never did master Occlumency, so you don’t have to worry about that. And bringing the problem to the front of my mind is easy – I can hardly think of anything but my problem.”
“All right, then. Shall we begin?”
Harry closed his eyes a moment, swallowing hard, trying to ready himself for that awful, sick feeling of having someone rifle through his memories. Still, it would be preferable to actually having to describe his dreams in detailed words.
Opening his eyes, he looked straight at Lucas. “Ready.”
Lucas was holding a wand – he must have got it out from his robes or the desk while Harry had had his eyes closed. Lucas pointed it at Harry, and Harry tensed, his heart pounding wildly.
“Legilimens.”
The room blurred, replaced by images as they flashed through his mind: the dark robed man, his face hidden by his hood…Harry lying face down on a bed, his arms and legs bound…the sound of a slap as the man brought his hand down hard on Harry’s arse…the feel of Harry’s cock growing hard as the pain coursed through his body…a hard, cold object being inserted into his arse…
He tried to think of all the dreams, how they’d been different, how they’d been alike, the way the man hurt him, and his body’s reaction to the pain. The more he remembered, the harder his cock became…
Then it was over. The room came back into focus. The only experience he’d had with Legilimency had been during his Occlumency lessons with Snape, so he’d been prepared for the worst. But Lucas had been quite gentle, taking his time sifting through Harry’s memories of the dreams.
“Did you see everything I saw – feel what I felt?” Harry asked, his face flushing in embarrassment.
“Harry, these dreams are not unusual, especially for a man your age. I suspect you’ve had these types of desires your whole life, but until your last child left for Hogwarts – you said she left in September, right before the dreams manifested themselves – you haven’t had time in your life to explore what you really want.”
“The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to have a normal life! I thought once I’d killed Voldemort, I could finally have it – I became an Auror, I married my girlfriend, had a family – ”
“But Harry, how many of those things did you do because they’re what you thought you were expected to do? Did you become an Auror because that’s what you wanted, or because the wizarding world thought you should? Did you ever consider other options? And I’m not disparaging your wife in any way, but how many other women did you go out with before deciding she was the one for you?”
“Um…well, none – we started going out while we were at Hogwarts. I just assumed that we’d get married – everyone in her family thought so…” Harry trailed off. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’ve never had a chance to explore your sexual desires. Now that your children are grown and off at school, you have that chance. Being attracted to both sexes is not as unusual as you might think.”
“I understand what you’re trying to tell me, but – I just want the memories of the dreams wiped out. I want to stop thinking about them, about - him. I want things to go back to normal!”
“I can erase the memories easily enough, but to modify the actual part of your brain where these dreams come from – it’s simply not possible. The dreams will just keep coming back.”
Harry was crestfallen. He didn’t know where else to turn.
Lucas must have sensed his disappointment. “I do know of someone who might be able to help you. I’ve read some of his articles and his theories seem sound. I haven’t met him in person, but we’ve corresponded. He’s currently looking for volunteers for his studies. Of course with anything new, there are risks. I’ve only been referring my worst cases to him, people who’ve gone through some sort of serious traumatic event, the kind of cases where the potential benefits outweigh the risks. If you’re really that desperate, you could go to him, see if the risks are worth it to you. I hesitate to send you because, well…if you’re trying to change your basic nature, I don’t think it will work.”
“Please, Lucas, I can’t live like this. I’m willing to try anything right now.”
Lucas took out a piece of parchment and began to write, then handed it to Harry. “Here’s his name and address. You’re fortunate that he now lives right here in London. For the past several years he’s been traveling extensively, doing research and gathering data to support his theories.”
When Harry read what Lucas had written, he almost laughed out loud at the irony of it. Of all people for him to have to ask for help:
Severus Snape
12, Grimmauld Place
*~*~*~*~*~
Harry stood outside the door, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. He hadn’t seen twelve, Grimmauld Place since he, Hermione, and Ron had stayed here during their time on the run from Voldemort. After the war had ended, he’d returned Draco’s wand; he’d also signed over the ownership of Grimmauld Place. He’d never wanted it to begin with. It only held bad memories, and he felt Draco had more of a right to it by way of being a Black by blood.
Harry knew Draco and Snape were friends – they’d been standing together last September on platform nine and three-quarters, seeing Draco’s son, Scorpius, off on the Hogwarts Express. Al and Scorpius had become friends, and as soon as they’d arrived, Al had sought Scorpius out. Ginny and Astoria normally took care of the details when Al would go and visit the Malfoys, or Scorpius would come to dinner at the Potters’, so Harry hadn’t spoken to Draco in years. He’d hesitated to follow Al over, but when Draco had caught sight of Harry watching, he’d acknowledged Harry with a nod.
And so had Snape.
Harry hadn’t seen Snape since the Death Eater trials, twenty years ago. Harry had testified on Snape’s behalf, and it was because of his testimony that Snape hadn’t gone to Azkaban. But Snape had disappeared after that, not even bothering to say thank you to Harry before he’d left. Harry hadn’t given him much thought over the years – he’d been too busy living his own life to worry about what Snape was doing. It was a shock to see him after all this time. He looked – fit was the word that came to mind. The long black robes with hundreds of buttons had been replaced with form fitting black trousers and a black button-down dress shirt, open at the neck – even from a distance, Harry could see the silvery scars caused by Nagini’s bite. Also gone was the greasy, lank hair. It was now long and silky, tied back in a similar fashion to the way Lucius used to wear his. It gave Snape an air of sophistication.
Before Harry could go over to speak with them, his attention had been drawn to James teasing Lily about being sorted into Slytherin like Al. By the time he’d finished with them and looked back over, Draco and Snape had gone.
Really, then, he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find that Snape was living at Grimmauld Place.
Harry hadn’t requested an appointment. He was afraid that Snape would refuse to see him. There were no guarantees that Snape wouldn’t slam the door in his face, but that was a chance Harry was willing to take. He hoped that since he was actually here, Snape would let him in.
He raised his hand to the silver doorknocker, trying to ignore how much his arm trembled as he knocked several times. He waited for what seemed an eternity, but could only have been a minute, maybe two.
Then the door opened, and Snape was looming over him.
“Mr. Potter. I’ve been wondering when you would show up. Won’t you please come in?”
Snape took a step back to allow Harry to pass, but Harry couldn’t move – he couldn’t take his eyes off the man.
“Have I really changed so much that it’s left you speechless?” Snape asked.
Harry flushed, embarrassed at being caught out staring. “I’m sorry, sir. I…” Harry met his gaze, hoping Snape wouldn’t surreptitiously use Legilimency on him. He swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. “Actually, you have changed quite a bit since your time at Hogwarts. It seems that not having to teach a bunch of dunderheads the subtle art of potion-making agrees with you.”
Harry felt a small sense of satisfaction when Snape raised a startled eyebrow.
“Yes, I suppose that you are correct. Now that I am doing work that I enjoy, life is much more pleasant. It also helps that I am rid of the stress associated with my spying activities. Be that as it may, please, do step inside.”
Harry followed Snape down the dark, familiar hallway and into the drawing room. He barely recognized it. Snape, or perhaps Draco, had made many changes. Sunlight poured in, bathing the room in bright yellow. The fire that was going in the fireplace gave the room a warm, cozy feel. Two large chairs and a side table sat in front of the fireplace. Perpendicular to them was a large sofa which looked comfortable enough to nap on. A small desk and chair were set off to the side.
“Please, have a seat.” Snape indicated one of the chairs in front of the fire. “Would you like something to drink, some tea, coffee?”
Harry took a deep breath, trying to relax. “No, thank you. I, um…since you were expecting me, I take it that Lucas Daniels must have let you know I’d gone to see him.”
“Mr. Daniels refers some of his patients to me that he thinks might benefit from my methods. Because my work is experimental, I only take what would be thought of as hopeless cases. He didn’t give me any details about your particular problem, though. He said he wasn’t even sure he should have sent you to me.”
Harry looked down at his hands as he talked. “I don’t really know what you do. Lucas said you had some new theories you were testing out on patients who’d been through severe trauma, but that the treatment had risks.”
“In simple terms, I’m using Legilimency to find memories which are causing severe mental pain for a patient. Perhaps the person was tortured in some way, or has been abused by a spouse or parent. These memories are causing the patient to be unable to function in society.
“Once I’ve found the memories, I build a wall around them, contain them and lock them away from the patient’s consciousness. Trying to Obliviate the memories doesn’t work – they’re too strong, too much a part of the patient. Allowing the memories to stay but keeping them isolated seems to be the best solution so far.”
Harry was staring at Snape now. He hadn’t even noticed when he’d looked up from his hands. Snape's work sounded fascinating.
“So what are the risks that Lucas mentioned? Why do you only take hopeless cases?”
“Finding the memories which are the root cause of the trauma can be difficult. A patient may not be aware which of their memories are harming them. They may think it’s memory A when really it’s memory B. If I select the wrong one, I can make things worse, even cause death.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me. I know exactly which memories are bothering me.”
“You certainly don’t appear to be what I’d term a hopeless case, though. Are you having trouble functioning at work?”
“No, work is fine. It’s more – personal. I…I have a difficult time talking about it. Lucas used Legilimency to look at the memories. Do you think you could do that too?”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “If it would be easier for you. We don’t have a positive history between us when it comes to Legilimency. Are you sure you want me to? I can’t have you changing your mind, trying to throw up a shield once we’ve started. That could hurt both of us.”
Harry licked his lips nervously, but met Snape’s stare. “I can’t describe these memories. The best way for you to know what’s bothering me is for you to see for yourself.”
Snape reached down along the side of his trousers – there was a small, narrow pocket sewn into the seam, only now visible to Harry as Snape pulled out his wand. “Are you ready?”
Harry nodded, his hands tightening on the arms of the chair as Snape pointed his wand.
“Legilimens.”
The sitting room blurred. The images went by much faster than they had with Lucas. Harry barely had time to think of one dream before it was replaced by another. Within moments, he found himself breathing fast, his cock becoming hard…he felt his captor’s hands roaming over his body…pain mixed with pleasure, causing him to struggle against his bonds…
Then it was over. The room came back into view. Harry quickly looked away, trying to get himself back under control, embarrassed by his state of arousal caused by remembering the dreams.
“You’re bothered by erotic dreams?” Snape asked, somewhat amused.
“They aren’t just erotic dreams,” Harry said in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “They’re all about another man, some stranger whose face I can’t even see. He ties me up, then he hurts me, and the pain he causes arouses me! I almost always come, and I don’t mean just in the dream either. It’s got so bad that I can’t even have sex with my wife unless I’m thinking about the stranger.”
“These types of dreams are not uncommon. Did Lucas not tell you that?”
Harry sighed. “Yes, he did. He seems to think that I’ve had these desires my whole life, but that I’ve been living my life the way others think I should. Now that my last child has left for Hogwarts, I started having the dreams. It’s my subconscious’ way to get me to explore what I really want. But I don’t want to explore what I really want because I already know! I want to go back to being normal.”
“You are normal. The dreams are an indication that you desire to have sex with another man; and not just any man, but a man who has control over you, someone who will dominate you, force you to face up to and give in to your desires. Given that your occupation is one of having to maintain control, it’s easy to see that in your private life you’d like the opportunity to take a break from always having to be strong. I suspect that you’ve always wanted this, but until your daughter went to school, you’ve managed quite well to repress it. When you were at Hogwarts, did you find any of the other boys attractive?”
“Um…well, there was Cedric Diggory, during the Triwizard Tournament. But I never had any dreams about him,” Harry added. “I used to think Mr. Malfoy was good looking, but he was a prick. I didn’t have any dreams about him either, unless…do you think he’s the man in my dreams? I can imagine that Lucius would love to do those kinds of things, and especially to me.”
“I think that the man in your dreams is not one particular person. He’s just your mind’s representation of the type of man you desire, which is why you never see his face. Unfortunately, I do not think my methods can help you – these dreams are the result, a symptom, not the cause. You’re talking about something that’s a part of your nature, not one particular event that can be locked away using my methods. I can Obliviate the memories of your dreams, but they’ll just keep coming back, more intense and more often, until you finally give in and act on them.”
“So there’s nothing you can do?” Harry asked hopelessly.
Snape gave Harry a calculating look. “I said using my methods of locking away memories won’t work. I didn’t say there was nothing I could do.”
“You mean – you can help me?”
“It would be on a strictly personal basis. And you would have to take a Silencing Vow to never discuss with anyone what we do, but I believe I can help alleviate your dreams, perhaps even rid you of them entirely.”
“A vow is no problem. I certainly don’t want anyone knowing about this. What do you propose to do?”
“If you agree – we will act out your dreams.”
Harry paused, startled by the suggestion, unsure of how he felt. He looked Snape up and down slowly, remembering how he’d admired the changes in the man when he’d seen him that day on platform nine and three-quarters. In school, Harry had wondered what Snape looked like under all those black robes and buttons, but he’d passed it off as idle curiosity. Could he have been attracted to Snape back then? Like Lucius Malfoy, Snape had been a prick to him, too. Maybe that was part of the attraction – men who had a mean streak in them.
“Are you saying – you want to have sex with me?” Harry asked, just to be sure he understood what Snape was suggesting.
“Not simply sex. I don’t think that would work. What I mean is that I will take the place of the man in your dreams; I will do to you everything that you imagined he would do to you.”
Harry swallowed hard. This wasn’t what he’d expected to happen when he came here to see Snape, but what Snape was suggesting made sense. If Harry acted on his desires like the dreams wanted, they would finally go away and he could get back to a normal life.”
“All right – I agree. How does a Silencing Vow work? Do I need my wand?”
“It’s similar to an Unbreakable Vow except that it doesn’t need a Bonder, and it doesn’t cause death if you try and break it. You simply won’t be able to speak or communicate in any way about the subject to which the vow applies. And yes, we need our wands.”
Harry took his wand out from his pocket.
“We need to clasp our left hands together.” Snape held out his hand for Harry to take. It felt warm – the skin was surprisingly soft. Harry would have expected Snape’s hand to be rough, calloused.
“We say the vow, then touch the tip of our wands to our hands. A red ribbon of light will wrap around our hands, sealing the vow. Now, repeat after me: I, state your name, take a Vow of Silence to not disclose to anyone, under any circumstances, the details of Severus Snape’s assistance in alleviating my dreams.”
“I, Harry Potter, take a Vow of Silence to not disclose to anyone, under any circumstances, the details of Severus Snape’s assistance in alleviating my dreams.”
“I, Severus Snape, take a Vow of Silence to not disclose to anyone, under any circumstances, the details of what I do to assist Harry Potter in alleviating his dreams. Our Vow of Silence to be sealed by our magic.”
Harry touched his wand to their hands at the same time Snape did. Like Snape said would happen, a red light snaked out and wrapped around their hands, turned to white, then disappeared.
“That’s it, then?” Harry asked, wondering what to expect next. “Now what?”
“Stand in front of me.”
Harry got up from the chair and stood several feet away, facing Snape, waiting.
“Take off your clothes and hand them to me.”
Harry froze. “What?”
Snape looked irritated but replied calmly. “If we’re to do this properly, you’ll need to take off your clothes. You’re naked in your dreams, are you not?”
Harry’s palms were sweaty. He wiped them on the sides of his robe. “I’m sorry – you’re right. I just….” He looked down at the carpet. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I was already nervous coming here, and the thought of us, well…” He couldn’t continue. Because the thought of them having sex, of Snape playing the role of his captor, made his cock instantly hard.
“I have no other appointments today. Take your time. Whatever is comfortable for you. We don’t even have to do this if you’ve changed your mind.”
“No!” Harry said, much too loudly. He had to go through with this – he had to make the dreams stop. “No,” he repeated, softer this time. “Just give me a minute to calm my nerves.”
He took a long, deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He reached up and unbuttoned his robe. He folded it and handed it to Snape, who placed it neatly on the floor beside the chair. Next was his jumper; as he pulled it off over his head, the static made more of a mess of his perpetually messy hair. The air felt cool on his naked chest, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh. He folded the sweater, handing it to Snape. He toed off his trainers, then peeled his socks off, placing them inside the shoes. He reached for the button of his trousers.
And paused.
This entire situation was unreal. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, getting naked in front of Snape.
“Take them off, your trousers and pants together. Do it slowly,” Snape ordered. “You’re doing fine.”
Placing his thumbs along the waistband of his trousers, he looked Snape in the eyes. As slowly as he could manage, he pushed his trousers and pants down over his hips, never turning his gaze away from Snape’s face.
When his trousers and pants were around his ankles, he stepped out of them. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He reached down and picked up his clothes, handing them over to Snape, then put his arms down at his sides, refusing to cover himself with his hands. He hoped Snape couldn’t tell how humiliated he was – humiliated because his cock was hard and already dripping precome.
Snape stood and walked forward, startling Harry into taking a step back. Snape reached out and grabbed Harry by the back of his head, his fingers twining in Harry’s hair, pulling their bodies together. Before Harry knew what was happening, Snape’s mouth was on his, his tongue trying to push inside. Harry was so shocked that he didn’t think about what he was doing; he simply opened his mouth and allowed Snape’s tongue in.
It was the first time he’d ever been kissed by a man, the first time he’d ever been kissed so passionately. Snape seemed to want to devour him, his tongue exploring every part of Harry’s mouth. Harry reached around Snape and pulled him closer. Snape pushed his thigh between Harry’s legs, his cock hardening as he rubbed it against Harry’s hip.
The kiss ended abruptly as Snape pulled away, leaving Harry flushed and gasping for breath.
Before Harry could recover, Snape moved his mouth to Harry’s neck, biting down hard. Harry cried out, struggling to get away from the pain. Snape’s grip tightened in Harry’s hair, holding him firmly in place as he continued to suck and bite. “I’m going to hurt you, Harry Potter, I’m going to whip that pretty little arse of yours, then I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming.” Snape’s hand moved to Harry’s cock, giving it a squeeze. “You’re ready to come, just at the thought of it, aren’t you?”
Snape’s words scared him, but they also excited him – he was ready to come, just thinking about what Snape said he planned to do.
Snape laughed darkly. Keeping his hand in Harry’s hair, he pulled him over to the desk, pushing him on top of it, face down. He kicked Harry’s legs apart and whispered something Harry couldn’t understand. But then he felt ropes wrapping around his ankles, pulling tight and binding him to the legs of the desk. Snape grabbed both of Harry’s wrists and pushed them towards the opposite side of the desk. Another whisper and ropes snaked up, tying Harry’s arms in place. His cock was pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the desk. He could move his hips an inch or two away, relieving the pressure, but it was too much of an effort to remain that way for long and he placed his weight back on the desk.
He startled when he felt Snape’s hand on his arse and realized how exposed and vulnerable he was. Why had he agreed to do this? He didn’t know Snape anymore – he never really had. Snape had never treated him kindly. His spying for the Order had been done out of a sense of duty towards Harry’s mother, not because he liked Harry. And Snape had hated Harry’s father with a passion. What better way for Snape to get revenge than to beat and fuck James Potter’s son?
Harry moaned as he struggled against his bonds. Right now he didn’t care how helpless he was or what Snape might do to him – his cock was hard and needy and he wanted to come, except – he couldn’t. Something was wrapped around his balls. Shit! When had Snape done that?
“From what I gather from your dreams, you like the feel of leather.” Snape’s hand continued to roam over Harry’s arse as he spoke. “Leather whips, leather belts, leather blindfolds…”
Harry’s spine tingled as he felt the light touch of Snape’s hand moving from his arse up his back, trailing from one shoulder blade to the other, then down again. When he felt Snape pull his cheeks apart, pushing a finger inside his hole, he gasped.
“You’re so tight – of course you would be, never having been fucked before. Not that I care how much it would hurt you, but I don’t look forward to hurting myself if I try and fuck you, as tight as you are. There’s a fine line between what’s desirable as far as a tight hole is concerned, and what is uncomfortable. However, this will remedy the situation.”
Snape removed his finger, replacing it with something cold and hard. It had a slimy feel to it as Snape pressed it in. It was a strange sensation, making him feel as if he had to go to the bathroom.
It wasn’t big – at first. Then it began to grow, slowly, stretching Harry’s muscle as it became larger. It began to burn…it seemed as if it would never stop growing. He pulled desperately against the ropes binding him, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Please…please,” Harry begged. “It hurts…make it stop!”
Snape ignored him. The thing continued to grow. Harry pressed his forehead onto the desk, gritting his teeth, balling his hands into fists. A light sheen of sweat broke out along Harry’s back.
He hadn’t even noticed when it stopped. He was panting furiously, his cock aching, needing to come but unable to do so with his balls tied as they were. He felt Snape’s hand on his arse again, rubbing and squeezing his cheeks, tugging at his balls, touching his cock.
“Relax, Harry – the pain will lessen as you get used to the intrusion. The plug is not so large that it will damage you. It feels bigger than it really is. It hurts because you’ve never had anything up your arse before. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor. If I fucked you without any preparation, I doubt you’d find it pleasurable.”
Harry tried to even out his breathing, concentrating on relaxing the muscle. Snape’s hands on his body felt soothing, and soon the pain changed into a dull, throbbing ache.
“As much as I do enjoy leather, I prefer the feel of wood. I have always thought a good paddling would have taken care of your arrogant attitude in my class. Unfortunately, corporal punishment was banned at Hogwarts long before the time I became a Professor.”
Harry barely had time to take in what Snape was saying when he heard a whoosh, followed by a loud smacking sound. Pain blossomed on his left arse cheek and he cried out.
He didn’t even have a chance to take a breath before the next blow landed, followed immediately by a third which hit against the plug in his arse, causing him to jerk forward. Then there was a pause in the blows; Harry felt Snape’s hand, cool and caressing, rubbing over the heated places on his skin.
Harry’s entire body was trembling, covered in sweat. His stomach muscles clenched and unclenched as Snape’s hands massaged and squeezed his sore arse. Then the hands left him, and he heard the sound of the paddle moving through the air again. He tensed, trying to brace himself for the pain, but it was no use. Three more blows in quick succession had him close to blacking out. Tears fell freely down his face. His arse felt like someone had touched it all over with a hot iron.
“You have such perfect skin for this,” Snape purred, his voice rich and deep. “It turns a beautiful shade of red. The bruises will look lovely. I think this has been in here long enough.”
He felt a tug on his hole as Snape pulled the plug out. As much as it had initially hurt, he found he disliked the empty sensation it left once it was removed.
He felt something else being pushed against his entrance now. It took a moment for him to realize what he was feeling this time was the head of Snape’s cock. He began struggling frantically, but Snape placed his hands on Harry’s hips and held him firmly.
“Please, sir, please don’t do this,” Harry said, barely above a whisper.
“Oh, no, no, Harry. Don’t pretend you don’t want this. Look how hard your cock is. Just like in your dreams…”
Snape’s hand wrapped around Harry’s cock. He began to use slow, teasing strokes, moving up and around the head, the dripping precome moistening his hand. Slowly, Snape pushed the head of his cock in through the tight, outer ring of muscle. Harry’s soft sobs filled the room as his entrance was breached. Snape continued, moving deeper, pushing a little at a time, until he was fully inside.
Snape stayed like that for a long moment, his breathing ragged and loud. Finally, he pulled out, then pushed back in, his hand on Harry’s cock keeping the same rhythm. Harry’s breath became faster, shallower, as Snape’s movements picked up speed. Little moans of pleasure escaped Harry’s lips as he gave in to the sensations of helplessness and lust.
“Let me come,” Harry pleaded. “It’s too much…I need to come…”
He could feel the cord restricting his balls disappear, and with a loud cry, his orgasm washed over him, white streams of come spurting onto his stomach and the desk. His arse clenched around Snape’s cock and Snape stiffened, groaning softly as he came too.
Snape leaned his hands on the desk, taking a few moments to get himself back under control. Slowly, he pulled his softening cock out of Harry’s arse, then released the ropes around Harry’s wrists and ankles. Harry would have fallen to the floor if Snape hadn’t caught him.
Snape helped him to the sofa, covering him with a soft blanket that had been lying across the back. They sat together, Snape’s arms wrapped around Harry, Harry’s face buried against Snape’s shoulder, his hand resting on Snape’s chest. Within moments, Harry fell asleep.
*~*~*~*~*~
Morning sunlight was just beginning to stream in through the window, falling warm over Harry’s face. His eyes blinked slowly open, but this time he knew exactly where he was – his old room at Grimmauld Place.
Gods, he was sore all over. He examined his wrists – they were bruised from where he’d pulled against the ropes, but at least the skin hadn’t broken. And his arse! Damn, it was tender. He didn’t even want to see how bruised it was – Snape certainly had a strong arm. Being fucked by Snape had been nothing like what he’d dreamed about, either. It was so much – more. More intense, more physical, more emotional, more satisfying. He’d never had an orgasm like that with Ginny.
The last thing he remembered was resting in Snape’s arms, feeling safe and protected. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, wondering what he was going to do now. He’d agreed to Snape’s plan, hoping it would take care of whatever subconscious desire he had to have sex with a man. Apparently it had worked, because he hadn’t slept this well since the dreams had started. And he hadn’t had a dream last night, either. His goal had been to rid himself of the dreams, to go back to his normal life, the way things were before the dreams started.
Only time would tell if the dreams were gone. But how would he ever be able to go back to his normal life after an experience like he had with Snape?
There was a light knock on the door.
“Come in,” Harry called out. “I’m awake.”
Snape opened the door but didn’t enter the room.
“Good morning. I have coffee brewing but I can make tea if you prefer.”
“No, coffee’s fine. Thanks. Um…how did I get up here? I don’t remember,” Harry said, sitting up in bed and pulling the sheet up to cover him from the waist down. He was still naked but noticed his clothes were folded and lying on top the dresser.
“I carried you up – it wasn’t difficult as I utilized a lightening charm. You were quite exhausted. The sofa is comfortable, but I thought you’d sleep better in a bed. How do you feel? I can use a pain-suppressing charm if you need it.”
“I’m sore but…I’m fine, really. I don’t need anything.”
“How did you sleep? Did you have any dreams?”
“I slept like a log. And no dreams, either.”
“I suppose it’s too early to tell if they’ll stay away altogether. If they return…well, we can discuss other ways of dealing with them then. If you’d like to have a wash, there are clean towels in the bathroom. Come down to the kitchen when you’re ready. I’m not a big breakfast eater, but I have toast and jam. Yesterday was quite strenuous for you. I think you should eat something before you leave.”
“Thanks. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Snape left the door open and headed back downstairs. Harry felt a twinge of disappointment at the man’s cold demeanor, but what was he expecting? Snape had done what he did as a favour to Harry, to help him get rid of the dreams. It wasn’t as if Snape had been harbouring any secret desire to fuck him; it was just part of the treatment. Well, that would at least make it easier for Harry to get back to his normal life. The sex had been fantastic, though. If Snape wanted to continue a relationship with him…no, thinking that way was a waste of time.
He threw the sheet off him and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to wash.
*~*~*~*~*~
Severus could see Draco had already been seated at their table and was perusing the menu. He was sipping a glass of wine, a look of pleasure gracing his pale face. When he caught sight of Severus, he grinned. Severus took his seat, his lips turning up slightly in return. A waiter quickly appeared, asked Severus what he’d like to drink, then hurried away.
“Severus, I would like to feel disappointment at losing our bet, but somehow, knowing you’ve buggered the great Harry Potter, I simply can’t find it in me to worry over a few lost galleons. I want to know all about it, especially what he looks like naked. Too bad you can’t give an interview to the Daily Prophet, describing all the disgusting details – that would bring the bastard down a notch or two.”
“I always knew you disliked the man, but I had no idea the feeling was so intense,” Severus said.
“He acted like he was doing me some kind of favor, signing over ownership of Grimmauld Place. He never had a right to it in the first place. Sirius Black was always doing things to thumb his nose at the family. Leaving a home which had belonged to one of the oldest and most respected pure-blood families to a half-breed like Potter was a spiteful thing for him to do.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but we both took a Silencing Vow – there will be no details.”
Draco pouted.
“However,” Severus added, “I can tell you that during my time as his teacher, I had a fantasy of my own, of taking the boy over my desk and giving him a good whipping, followed by a good fucking.”
Draco snickered. “You didn’t? That’s priceless. What about a Pensieve – did the vow cover extracting memories?”
“I had to make it generic enough so that Potter won’t be able to divulge anything, in any form, about what we did. I didn’t want him getting suspicious and backing out, so I had to make the same vow. But don’t worry, dear Draco, if you’re that keen on seeing what Potter looks like naked, I can certainly set up the suggestion for next time to have his dreams include a pale, white-haired assistant for his mysterious dark-robed captor.”
“You’d do that for me? You’d share?”
“Why not? That’s what friends are for. I think I’d quite enjoy watching you have your turn with him. Perhaps we could even utilize the Malfoy dungeons.”
Draco took another sip of his wine, then turned solemn. “I suppose I owe you an apology, for ever doubting your ability.”
“It’s understandable, given how long we had to wait that day for Potter to look in our direction. If his son hadn’t shown up when he did, searching out Scorpius, I don’t think I’d have been able to pull it off. As it was…”
“As it was,” Draco continued, “the prat did look our way and you managed to implant the suggestion that he desired a dark-robed stranger to beat and fuck him senseless, and the only way he’d ever be able to get an erection again was if he thought about that stranger. Then, you made him feel so horrified that he desired a man in such a way, he would seek you out for help in wiping his memories. I have to admit, I thought the distance was far too great for you to get into his mind like that.”
“The fact that he met my eyes for as long as he did was what made the difference. And it’s not as if Potter’s mind is all that complex. I’ve been in it before, remember? I knew exactly what to do and how to do it. He did complicate things somewhat by going to see that Lucas Daniels, but at least he chose someone who was familiar enough with my work that it seemed logical for him to refer Potter to me. Potter would have shown up on my doorstep eventually, though, even without Lucas’ helping hand.”
“So, now that you know it worked, how long are you going to keep Potter on a leash?”
Severus tilted his head to the side as he thought about it. Things had gone well – until that last bit at the end, when he’d helped Harry to the sofa and they’d sat there together, Harry falling asleep in his arms. He’d felt a strange sense of protectiveness, imagining what it could be like if Harry fell asleep in his arms every night like that. He quickly dismissed it – the plan had been set in motion and it was too late to stop things now.
“I’ve set the dreams to return in three weeks. I’ll keep them going until the end of the school year, work on him until he asks for a divorce, get him alienated from his children and the Weasleys. I’ve modified the suggestion somewhat to have his dark-robed captor look more like me. Eventually, it will be me he dreams of and not an anonymous stranger. Then one day, when he shows up on my doorstep, I’ll simply turn him away – he’ll be devastated.”
“You’re going to leave the suggestion in place, keep him dreaming of you, desiring you? For the rest of his life? That’s pretty cruel.”
“He left me to die in the Shrieking Shack,” Severus replied defensively. “He did nothing to help me. After all the sacrifices I made – he deserves everything I do to him.”
“Calm down, Severus. I’m not criticizing you – I’m commending you. I like it, especially since you’re willing to let me fuck him too. This is a celebration of your success. Now let’s order. All this talk about destroying Potter’s life has worked up my appetite.”