harry was late. his detention with umbridge had run late and now he was late to occlemency with snape and how was he stupid as to be late?
"harry harry harry, a dunderhead like you will never learn" said snape, and then he said the spell and the world outside of harry's mind disappeared. the world inside harry's mind, however, was vivid. memories of his dirty cupboard and petunia's frying pan hitting him, not always the head, sometimes the shoulders leaving bruises that seemed like they would never go away. vernon, holding harry's arm to the fire after the grilled cheese harry had been making dudley burned. "you'll never learn, boy! we should've left a freak like you in the orphanage, but we took you in and fed you and this, this blatant disrespect is what we get in return?" harry's robes and castoffs from dudley hid that scar at all times. snape was taking it all in, and a twisted grin came upon his face. victims of abuse usually don't tell if anything happens again. if harry would even remember. and those green eyes, and, ohh, it had been so long...
the world inside of harry's head disappeared too. it was like he had lost two hours. he probably passed out from stress at the lesson. yeah, that was it, and snape didn't care enough to bring him to pomfrey. ahh, well, nothing can be done now, harry supposed, although it was past curfew when he got back to gryffindor tower, and ron had questions harry couldn't answer. he remembered that snape had learned about the dursleys, and told ron such, but not the specifics. it was too embarrassing, how an insult could bring up memories of so much pain.
but the loss of time kept happening. snape looked for excuses in potions to put harry in detention, and harry couldn't remember any of it. in occlemency he tried to shield his mind, tried to do anything, absolutely anything, to stop snape from drawing out those memories, but there was so many, some harry didn't know he had. voldemort would have no trouble discovering harry's weaknesses,and in fact he might have already. harry's dreams were disturbing, dreams of snape on top on him touching him, pinning him, calling him those same words the dursleys had used, and then there was snape's- snape's penis. and the pain, there was so much pain, no lubricant, his arse! but why would voldemort know what snape's penis looked like? why would voldemort use sex to control harry, when it hadn't worked with ginny? why- but then harry considered. what if snape was working for voldemort? what if he was a spy, and feeding voldemort information? but then why would harry be on the potions classroom floor, why would voldemort be nowhere in sight?
harry had no explanations, so he didn't speak up. he avoided snape's eyes, which only led to more accusations of harry hiding something, more detentions, and more dreams. ron had thought it odd, but then piped up, "maybe snape is trying to save you from umbridge?" because it was true, harry could only attend one detention at a time. but he almost missed umbridge, because at least with her the pain was physical, at least with her he could remember all of what happened, at least she didn't haunt his dreams. and the dreams felt so real!
months passed. harry's health worsened. the pain in his dreams became pain in real life. it was spring break, a new tradition dumbledore had taken on from muggle colleges. harry stayed at hogwarts, but snape, blessedly, left. order business, harry assumed. harry was left with ron, hermione having gone to visit her dentist parents, and after more games of wizard chess than the boy could bear, harry considered an option he hadn't considered in years. what if he went to mcgonagall about his dreams? she was his head of house, she had stayed during break. maybe for once an adult could help. and if not, well, harry already has a reputation for lying. what's a little more?
harry knocked on the large wooden door. mcgonagall's office. "come in!" the woman shouted from the desk, expecting a first year, but not the young man who walked in.
"mcgonagall- i- i need to talk to you about something personal. and it might be nothing, but you're my head of house and i thought-"
"harry, have a seat. have some tea. i'm open to discussing personal matters with you, provided they are not inquiries into my personal life.
harry took a mug of tea and sat in the large armchair across from the older witch. "it's-it's not about you, professor. it's just, uh, okay so this will sound crazy, but i've been having memory problems. and they only happen during detentions with snape. and i've been having dreams about him, and i really don't think they're visions sent by you-know-who. i think they might be connected, the two problems. "
"i see. what exactly are the contents of the dreams, if you don't mind me asking?"
"why are you asking?" harry asked, suddenly regretting his decision to come to her.
"because the use of memory charms can cause unpleasant dreams, but only if the experiences that are being covered are traumatic enough to permanently damage your psyche. and in order to accuse severus of any wrongdoing, assuming any occurred, i need to have a record of what the experiences are, so i can bring them to headmaster dumbledore and not have him be able to brush off these concerns like he has many others i have brought to him professor snape."
"oh. okay. er, well i don't believe my brain is permanently damaged, but the dreams are rather disturbing. and um, the pain i experience in them has carried over to real life"
"where is the pain?" mcgonagall asked, having a suspicion of where this was headed. severus would never strike a student, like filch would, but she wouldn't hold it past him to molest or otherwise sexually abuse a student in order to maintain power over them.
"in, er, in my bum, ma'am. in the dreams, snape, er, he has his robes off. we're in the dungeons and it's cold, and my robes are off as well as the muggle clothes i wear under them. snape,er, snape's willy is out and then he-" harry took a deep breath. this would help get snape fired. this would stop everything. "he pinned me to the potions floor, and it's cold and i- i can feel his breath on my neck and suddenly his- he's- there's pain in my bum and it's because his- his willy- he-" harry can't continue. he's crying, he's crying and snot is dripping onto mcgonagall's desk and he feels so bad that he vanishes it but he can't stop the crying, because it felt so real when he spoke of it, and now he was certain it happened. "i-i'm sorry, i shouldn't be crying, it might not even be real-"
"harry, could i try legilimency on you?"
harry thought back to what the past legilimency experiences had been like. "no. nononono-"
"it's okay, we don't have to. i think you should go to madam pomfrey."
"okay. will you please deal with dumbledore. he won't even look me in the eye, and i can't- i can't say this again."
"yes, harry. i will try my damnedest to get that bloody bastard fired. dumbledore has been putting up with snape's emotional abuse of students for years, but this, this even he may see as too heinous to allow, even for his precious spy."
"please. please, i can't do it again i can't. i- i'll go to pomfrey now, i'm sorry i took up so much time."
"mr. potter, do not ever believe even for a minute that anything, absolutely anything, is more important to me than you and every last one of your housemates' safety."