Dungeon

Chapter 7 - Telling Secrets

The weekend was warm. Hogsmeade was still off-limits to students so everyone was out on the lawn. Harry and Ron took up a bludger and played catch with it on their brooms. Harry was amazed at how out of shape he had gotten over the summer. Ron, who had played around on brooms all holiday, was flying better than he. Harry pushed himself hard to keep up appearances.

Harry cajoled Ron out again on Sunday for the practice. He couldn't risk Ginny beating him out for Seeker if she decided against going for Chaser and was as good as Ron from a summer of playing in the yard at the Burrow.

Sunshine and exercise left Harry feeling upbeat even as he made his way down to the dungeons for his first evening lesson of that week. The possibility that all this could seem routine startled him as he knocked on the door and was admitted immediately.

"Have a seat, Potter," Snape said as he put some potions away.

"The sleeping draught you gave me on Friday worked well," Harry commented as he took the visitor’s chair.

"Of course. I brewed it," Snape said cockily and gave Harry a look when he straightened up.

"If that is how you troll for additional compliments, I can see why you don't get many. Sir," Harry said with a slight grin.

Snape swept past the door and spelled it before returning to his desk and sitting back. "Satisfy my curiosity, Potter. In class the other day, did you access my thoughts without my knowledge? Right before you added more gnat wings."

"No. Hermione had said that because it was an insect base that it couldn't get too hot and I thought maybe I had overcooked the proteins so I just added more. They were the smallest." Harry shrugged.

"You are probably capable of understanding Potions if you tried," Snape said.

"There hasn't been much reason to try," Harry said quietly.

Snape frowned. "Let's move onto your lesson then."

"I asked Hermione and she said it was okay. She has been hearing rumors, by the way."

"Even if there were absolutely nothing going on. The mere fact of your evening visits would stimulate them. Tell me what Ms. Granger is doing right now." Harry closed his eyes. "Is this the first time you have tried this with her?"

Harry nodded and concentrated. What would it feel like to be Hermione? Really smart and organized, Harry answered himself. And sure of myself. He saw her Transfiguration essay. "Object surfaces which are closed are harder to transform than open ones," Harry read off. He opened his eyes. "Huh, is that true?"

"I believe so," Snape said and watched Harry closely.

"She is working on her Transfiguration essay."

"Did she notice you?"

Harry closed his eyes again. Hermione continued scratching with her quill, uninterrupted. "No."

"Potter, you are now the most dangerous wizard in this castle," Snape commented over his knitted fingers.

"She is easy, I know her really well," Harry explained.

"We shall have to try this in a controlled manner with a willing person whom you do not know well at the beginning." Snape stood up and paced once. "I have some suggested exercises, some of which you will object to. If you do, just say so." He looked at Harry for confirmation. "If you are willing, try to get Ms. Granger to do something subtle, such as misspell a word."

Harry thought about that and decided it was harmless enough. He closed his eyes and watched out of Hermione's eyes again. Making her misspell a word was going to be more difficult than he thought. He first had to know what she was going to write next. Harry watched and waited. Snape didn't make a sound even when many minutes past.

Harry decided that the easiest way to accomplish a misspelling was to watch for a word like 'the' and try to make her transpose the letters or add a letter. Harry delved a little deeper until he could feel her controlling her hand as she dipped it into the inkwell and scratched out a few words and dipped again. Harry grabbed hold lightly, jerking the quill in a straight line. Hermione picked up off the page, shook her hand, and continued writing. No, Harry thought, just forcing it was too blunt. He watched some more. She didn't actually write out T H E as she wrote, she wrote the word 'the' as a whole.

He tried for a different word, one she had to spell out. "Optimum" was being scratched out. Harry chanted with her as she spelled and added an extra 'm' at the end. Hermione kept writing without noticing.

Harry finally opened his eyes. "That was hard."

"But you managed?"

"Finally, yeah. It had to be on a word she had to spell out in her mind."

"Potter, do me a favor. If you decide we are not on the same side, please do give me some warning."

"You are joking, right, Professor?"

"No, I am not. If you had this skill honed you could do enormous damage. For example, make Mr. Fudge write out a decree and sign it. Look in on any meeting you chose to, even secret closed ones. Do try to not abuse your power. It will attract dangerous attention."

"I won't, sir," Harry insisted.

"You seem calmer this evening," Snape said.

"Until you pointed it out, yes," Harry said, his hands breaking out into a sweat. "Sir."

"We may have an audience at any time," Snape said quietly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Great," he muttered unenthusiastically.

Snape pulled on his bottom lip in thought for a long minute. He then stood and came around the desk. "I expected this to get easier," Snape commented.

"It is a little," Harry commented.

Snape's head came up and he gestured for Harry to follow him. "Come," he said as he opened the door to his rooms. "This is going to be the most difficult evening yet, I think."

The sight of the dark green velvet raised Harry's heart-rate on its own. He bit his lip, pulled off his robe and tossed it over a nearby chair.

"Not eager, are we?" Snape sneered lightly.

"To get it over with, yes," Harry breathed. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, just in case.

"Shirt," Snape said. Harry took that off as well. For one cold second, Harry thought he was going to suggest more.

Snape frowned to himself and moved to lie across the bed with his feet hanging off. He flipped off his shoes with his toes and shifted to the middle and waited.

Harry sat down on the other side and kicked off his shoes and then grimaced. Without turning around, Harry said, "You need to do more, don't you?" He stretched his neck and shoulder nervously.

"Yes," Snape's even voice replied.

Harry turned around and rested on his arm as he leaned over toward Snape. "I'm trying to decide how much I want to know beforehand."

"We are both victims in this, Potter."

"I know that," Harry retorted. "I'm trying to find my way through this. Malfoy must be out of his mind."

"Many people rather enjoy this activity. But in Malfoy's case it is about taking a piece of someone's power, rather than the direct pleasure of it."

"What did he do that you knew what he wanted?" Harry asked.

"Would it make you feel better to know?"

"Yes, I am trying to get a grip on his attitude."

"Do you wish to blackmail me?" Snape asked conversationally.

"No."

"Then Mr. Malfoy's attitude will not assist you."

"What is V- the Dark Lord getting out of this?"

Snape looked down at the dark green bedcover as he thought. "I do not know. I know he finds it rather entertaining, but he also finds orphanages burning down with children trapped inside entertaining. He lives to manipulate people and to destroy them."

"And we are helping him along. Glad to know that," Harry said dryly.

"We are trying to preserve a strategic advantage."

"And your life."

Snape bowed in acknowledgment. "In all probability."

"Tell me about Malfoy anyway, sir."

Snape pursed his lips as he composed a response. "Within a month of his arriving at Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy came to my office one late evening. He complained about some minor issue and then began making insinuations. He used words and phrases that have two meanings to imply that he was available for my pleasure."

"He was only eleven," Harry said, stunned. "Makes me glad I didn't have dinner tonight."

"I perhaps should have thrown him out of my office with enough violence to make my point very clear, but his father is not a man to be on the bad side of. I was not certain that Lucius had not put Draco up to it. Also Quirrell and your reaction to him had me very concerned that Lucius's power was about to increase."

"What did you do?" Harry asked with concern.

"I politely told him that I did not need him. He eventually gave up after suggesting it several more times over the course of three years."

"No wonder he went berserk. You set him up intentionally to see that; did he realize that?"

"He is not smart enough to. And despite the stress it undoubtedly caused you, I rather enjoyed doing that," Snape reminisced.

Harry laughed lightly.

"You dislike him enough to laugh at that already?"

"Oh, yes. His face was priceless."

"Yours was not bad either," Snape pointed out.

After a pause Snape frowned. "We have to move on."

Harry shook his head and with a deep breath, lay back.

"Roll over, I have an idea. You and Mr. Weasley were out flying rather a lot this weekend, correct?"

Harry flipped onto his stomach. "I didn't know you got out of the dungeon that much."

"The headmaster does let me out for meals," Snape commented. He reached out and rubbed his thumb along Harry's spine on the right side. At the point where Harry yelped in pain, Snape stopped and traced the muscle outward.

"Wow, that hurts," Harry said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"You rather overdid it, I think. We will start with that."

"With what?"

Snape sighed in frustration. "With a massage, Potter."

"You do those?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Despite the ease with which you overcome my Occlumency, you do not know me very well," Snape stated. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Snape relaxed his hand at that firm answer. "If I do anything that you dislike, yell at me afterward."

Harry fleetingly considered telling Snape that he wanted to leave now. He swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Relax, Potter. I repeat again that I will not harm you." Snape said this last with his softest voice.

What was it about that voice? Harry wondered as he waited for the signal. Its very tone seemed to promise something other than what the words themselves conveyed. He puzzled that until Snape said, "Now."

Harry held his breath as Snape's warm fingers retraced the sides of his spine. The same muscle complained bitterly about the attention but he squelched his gasp this time. With a light touch over several minutes, Snape worked the taut muscles until they softened. Harry sighed in relief as his back finally relaxed after days of sharp pains.

Snape moved on to quickly go over the rest of Harry's back, shoulders and upper arms which Harry only now realized were complaining as well. So far this had been the best evening, Harry had to admit. Snape's fingers worked their way down his back, kneading much harder now. Harry heard himself groan despite his effort otherwise.

As Snape's hands encountered his belt, they reached around under Harry and unhooked his trousers. Harry just barely held back from squawking at that. He instead gnashed his teeth together and planned out exactly what he was going to be yelling later. Hard kneading fingers moved down over his butt bone. Damn, that felt nice too, Harry thought, angry at himself for enjoying any of this.

Gentle, but firm, hands rolled him over. Harry held his eyes closed for a moment before he dared open them. Snape had his shirt off and was skirting both of them under the bedcover. Harry felt much better with the covers even though he was sharing them.

Snape shifted to lean over Harry, almost on top of him. When he bent over this time, he actually did nuzzle Harry's neck making him fairly jump. 'Harm' is a relative thing, Harry thought as Snape's hands grasped his ribcage and stroked his body. Something seemed to be happening to Harry: he felt completely overheated and his flesh felt like clay as though it could be molded by the hands on him.

Harry grasped the body above him in response to the undefined need writhing in him. Snape grabbed his hands and pressed them to the bed and held them there. "You may touch me when I give you permission to. Only then," Snape said firmly, suggestive that Harry might have violated this rule previously.

When Snape bent to his neck again, Harry whimpered faintly. Fear was coursing through him now, leaving his skin intolerably chilled in the dank dungeon air. He didn't fear Snape but this thing that seemed to have awakened inside himself. Eyes clenched shut, Harry resisted the fierce desire to project the command to stop into Snape's head. Voldemort was present there somehow and Harry feared encountering that more than he feared anything else in the world.

Harry's chest heaved as Snape's mouth moved down over it. Desperation was gripping him now and if it didn't end soon he wasn't going to make it; he was going to scream at any moment. Snape's hair tickled his abdomen as his nibbling moved lower still. Harry's first thought is Voldemort won't let Snape stop. His second was that maybe Harry didn't want him to. His body was reflecting his need, especially his crotch, and he was now very grateful for the heavy bedcover.

Snape's fingers gripped him painfully a moment before he froze. After long breaths, he raised his head. Harry lay with his eyes still clenched closed, his head angled away.

"Potter," Snape said. "Say something."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. It was the truth, he was very sorry this was happening to him. "Can you leave me alone for a little while?" Harry asked without opening his eyes.

"No. We will talk about it right now."

"Talk?!" Harry managed in shock.

Snape grabbed Harry's arm. "Potter, open your eyes and look at me."

Harry obeyed with a pained expression. Snape reclined ninety degrees to Harry with his sparsely-haired chest bared. He looked better than Harry would have expected, a thought that didn't improve his mood. He tried to look away. Snape squeezed his arm. "No, keep looking at me," he commanded. Harry obeyed. "Don't you want to know what just happened?"

"I know what just happened," Harry snapped.

"Really? Are you certain?"

Harry rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"I am not giving you any choice," Snape said firmly. "You were harmed this time and the best I can do now is limit the damage. So I am going to tell you what happened." At Harry's furrowed brow, Snape asked, "How many times in your life have the adults that you counted on abandoned you?"

"What?" Harry asked loudly. He frowned deeply. "You count dying?"

"Yes, of course," Snape replied matter-of-factly.

"You want an actual number of times?"

"No, I just want you to think about that."

Harry jerked his arm free and crossed both of them. "That is a happy thing to think about," he commented.

"My intent is not to cheer you up, but to explain," Snape said in a hard tone. "Your lack of reliable, affectionate guardianship leaves you exceptionally vulnerable to what is happening here."

"I don't see the connection," Harry muttered stiffly.

Snape studied his own fingertips a moment in thought. "Potter, imagine, most children grow up with one or even two adults for whom they are the single most important thing in the world." Harry looked away with an angry expression and Snape continued, "From whom they get everything they need if not everything they want. Even sufficient attention and affection." Snape paused. "You are unusually vulnerable to any adult who gives you anything remotely like that."

Harry gave him a very dubious look.

"You do not have to believe me--just think about it. Simply realize that you are behaving normally. Self-loathing is not justified."

Harry looked away again with another doubtful expression. "It's getting late," Harry pointed out. He wanted to leave.

"We aren't finished," Snape said levelly.

"Okay, so, say you are right. What I am supposed to do about this?"

"Be aware of it. Every vulnerability you have gives your enemies an opening from which to attack you. The Dark Lord would not pass it over, for example."

Harry sat up and put his head in his hands and cringed again as he thought about what happened.

Snape's repeated, "You are merely responding normally to affection, Potter."

Harry didn't remove his hands from his face. "Yeah, but I hate your guts so how does that work?"

"The human body and the human mind are not in sync at your age, at all," Snape replied after a pause.

Harry glanced at the time again. "This is getting complicated, Professor. I am going to need an excuse."

"All right." Snape stood up in one smooth motion.

Harry dressed rapidly and flew out of the room. There was no one remaining in the dungeon corridor, nor did he encounter anyone until he reached the hallway leading to the Fat Lady.

"Potter, you are late," McGonagall snapped at him. "Where have you been?"

Harry froze and thought desperately for an excuse. "I was in the Library, looking up something for Hermione." He patted his heavy backpack. "It is really slow for me since she always does it."

"All right, but don't let it happen again." She held the portrait open for him and closed it behind him.

"Harry you are really late," Hermione said as Harry came in. "What have you been doing?"

"Pull out your Transfiguration essay and I'll show you."

Ron looked up from his writing. "You did that already?" he asked Hermione in distress.

She looked at Harry oddly, then pulled out her parchment. Harry picked a chocolate frog out of the basket on the table and bit into it as he scanned her essay quickly. He pointed out her misspelling and waggled his eyebrows.

Hermione's eyes went wide. She stood up. "Excuse us Ron. I need to talk to Harry a minute." Ron waved them away without looking up. She glanced around and saw that all of Harry's roommates were in the commons room. "Your dormitory," she said.

Once up the stairs and inside, Hermione closed the door. She still had her essay in her hand. "Are you saying you caused me to misspell this word?" she asked.

Harry couldn't read whether she was impressed or frightened. Maybe both. He nodded.

"Wow, Harry," she still sounded more stunned than anything. "Snape taught you that?"

"More like, suggested I try it. He doesn't know remote Legilimency." Harry reached into his bag and pulled a large, old book out of his bag. "But this woman, Milliforth, she writes about having something similar." He flipped it open to a marked page. "She could do some other things too, like teach people the foxtrot in under five minutes." Harry pointed to that section.

"Kind of a silly thing to do," Hermione commented doubtfully.

"That isn't the point. It is a difficult thing to teach. When I saw that I thought of the DA and how easy it was to teach people things. Even things I know it took longer for me to learn."

Hermione looked at the page again and then at Harry. "You think you have this teaching skill too?"

Harry shrugged. "Just thought it was interesting."

"Harry, be very careful. Please don't do anything stupid with this Legilimens skill of yours."

"Snape has already been over that," Harry insisted.

##########

At lunch the next day, they talked about how the sunshine was holding out. "We have a break, let's go outside," Hermione said. "Harry, you need to get out, mingle with people. You have been in detention just all of the time."

"You are saying I should ask someone out for a walk in the Rose Garden or something?" he teased.

"Uh, if you have someone in mind," she answered carefully.

Harry looked to his left. "Ginny, want to go for a walk after lunch?"

Ginny craned her neck and leaned forward to look at him over the plates of the students between them. "Sure, Harry."

Ron whispered to Hermione, "Isn't she going out with Dean?"

"Not since school restarted, I don't think." She checked that Ginny wasn't looking. "They disagreed about something when they got back after summer."

Harry had forgotten about Dean. He intentionally didn't look up at his dormitory mate as he gulped down the dregs of his pumpkin soup.

Ginny followed Harry out in a crowd of students. He took her hand and led her around to the back of the castle. It was less landscaped here with fewer trees. Harry espied the two tree swings and headed that way, Ginny in tow.

"Harry only first years use those!" she said.

"I like this spot," he said, sitting on a swing. He liked that he could see that there wasn't anyone close by. He patted his lap and with a laugh she accepted the invitation. He wrapped an arm around her as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She smiled at him. "Hold onto the ropes," Harry commanded and leaned back to get them moving. Their motion was unstable and Ginny giggled as they rocked precipitously. Harry leaned forward and then back again and they were finally moving decently.

"Thanks for coming outside with me; I really need to talk to someone," Harry said.

"You can't talk to Ron and Hermione?" she asked.

"Not about this. I'm not supposed to talk to anyone, I am pretty sure. But I trust you completely."

"Harry, you can tell me anything. You saved my life. I still feel ashamed about what happened."

They got the hang of balancing and Harry leaned back harder. "Don't Ginny. It isn't worth it. If I tell you what has been happening to me, you will feel much better, I expect." Harry glanced over at various students who were walking around this part of the yard. They were all near the castle and well out of earshot.

"Harry, I'd do anything for you. Listening is easy," she prompted.

He let the swing coast and tightened his arm around her. "I have been taking Legilimency lessons with Snape."

"Isn't that mind reading? You can read minds?" Ginny asked, stunned. At Harry's nod, she said, "Read mine."

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

Harry closed his eyes. She was very easy since their sense of motion was perfectly matched. "You are worried that Dean will think you are only trying to make him jealous."

"Harry! Sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you."

In a slightly hurt voice Harry said, "I won't do it again."

"I didn't mean it that way," Ginny insisted. "I interrupted, go on."

"So I have been down in the dungeons two evenings a week. And last week, well, things got really complicated." Harry closed his eyes to clear his mind. Stress piled up against his thoughts for a moment. It was really just last week, really. "Promise not to tell?"

"Harry! I promise, sheesh."

"So last week, I am reading about Legilimency with Snape and I had this nasty cut from Pansy's ring which wasn't healing. I showed it to Snape and he is really nice about it, for him anyway. Gets out all of these potions and a thickener to make it time-release and some plasters even."

"I have to tell you Harry, I don't think I'd let him touch me if I were dying of poison."

"Yeah, you are going to hate this story then. By the end of it, because I have a second cut on my shoulder, I have my shirt off and the git knocks me out cold."

"What! Harry are you serious?" Her shock made him feel much better. It was a nasty thing for Snape to do and he'd been forced to forgive him for it, if not at least overlook it.

"Yeah, one moment he is asking me how I feel, in case the poison has spread and the next, he taps me on the head with his wand." At her look, he said. "Wait, it gets better." They had slowed to nearly a stop. Harry rocked them a little with toes pointed to the ground. "I wake up . . . on his bed. . ."

Ginny dropped her head on Harry's shoulder in utter shock. "Wait," Harry said, "it gets better yet." Ginny whimpered sympathetically. "Apparently Snape has lured Draco Malfoy to his office to see this."

"His office?"

"Yes, Snape's rooms are behind that door on the left in his office. The other one is storage."

Ginny rocked her head back and forth. "I didn't need to know that, really."

"Snape has actually gone to the trouble of, uh, dropping my robe and shirt, actually taking them from the chair in the office and dropping them near the bed. He also has the bedcover pulled up so it looks like I'm buck naked, even though I wasn't."

"Harry, Harry," Ginny murmured painfully.

"Oh, it gets better. Though I have to admit Draco looked pretty pissed off, and that offset it a bit." Knots in Harry's chest were unwinding as he spoke.

"So the reason for this was?"

"Voldemort ordered Snape to corrupt me and so Draco would see that and presumably report that to his master. Which he essentially told me he did during Potions the other day. Then he laughed hysterically. He really has lost it."

"Draco has lost it? Harry, Snape abducts you to his room and you are complaining about Draco?"

"I didn't get to the part where he locks me in, did I?" Harry asked, starting to enjoy the utter horror this simple story was imparting, on someone who had experienced what Ginny had.

"No," Ginny squeaked.

"So he spells the doors and then tells me about this plan of Voldemort's and since he is spying for the Order, well we really can't lose that, uh, strategic advantage. . ."

"Harry, he was just saying that," Ginny said suspiciously.

"No, this thing was a joint decision between Snape and Dumbledore. Dumbledore and I had a long talk about it the next morning."

Ginny just stared at him in dismay.

"That isn't even the part I need to get off my chest," Harry pointed out with a shake of his head. Ginny's eyes got wider. Harry continued, "It is just supposed to be an illusion for Voldemort, this . . . " he hesitated.

"Deflowering?"

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, "nice word that." He watched as Ron and Hermione pretended not to watch him and Ginny from where they leaned against the castle wall.

Ginny shrugged, unapologetic.

"So, Voldemort insists on watching some of this. He is a Legilimens too, but Snape blocks him out most of the time. But he has to prove he is working on me so we have to set up a little show."

"Harry," she said pleadingly. "That is too much. How can they ask that of you?"

"As Snape pointed out, in his usual crass manner, this isn't as bad as being strapped to a tombstone and having my blood drawn for a ceremony to give Voldemort a new body." Harry propelled the swing a little. In a low, flat, voice he said, "They took Sirius away from me. They took my parents. I am up to the point where I'll do just about anything to fight them."

"You have to have some limits, Harry," Ginny warned him.

"When they start having them, so will I," Harry quipped. He leaned back again to push them higher. "I feel much better. I hope that doesn't give you nightmares or anything." He had wanted to tell her everything, even about this thing awakened inside him, but he decided that maybe he didn't want to after all. Having her nearby like this made him feel joyous and he couldn't risk losing that.

She regrabbed the ropes and leaned with him. "Oh, no. I'm sure it won't," she said sarcastically.

"So, how has your year been going?" Harry asked conversationally.

"Dean dumped me as soon as we got back to school after writing me all summer. That was annoying. Classes are okay but I am already worried about OWLS."

"They lay that on all year. Get used to it."

Ginny looked around to make sure no one was close by. "Harry, uh, can we go out. . . more?"

Harry stopped the swing with a jerk by planting his feet. "Oh shit!" he breathed.
"You still have Potions."

"Yes, Harry it is required for Fifth Years," she said as though talking to a child.

"Oh, Ginny, this could be bad."

"You don't want to go out with me?"

"No, I like you a lot and I'd love to go out with you," Harry replied absentmindedly, his gaze off on the distant mountains.

"Cheers, Harry. I like you a lot too."

"You are really going to have to. You are not going to like the next few days." Harry wrapped another arm around her and pulled her tight almost to comfort himself. "You've just become part of the show."