Dark Lord's Pet

Memories

Harry

Harry, we need to make Severus aware of the true situation, Voldemort communicated mentally.

What do you mean? Oh- Oh, you mean like when I go back to school, it'll be super obvious I'm not horribly traumatized?

Yes. Not only that, either though. We need him on our side against Dumbledore. He needs to know the truth so he won't turn you over to that abusive git.

Harry blinked twice in rapid succession, as much response as he could while remaining in character.

I dunno if you didn't notice, but the man hates my guts. He's not exactly going to care about sending me back into the clasp of those that will do me harm.

He does hate you, but Severus is. . . more sensitive than you give him credit for. Severus was abused as a child as well, though he never sought support from Dumbledore so doesn't realize the breadth of the man's disregard for child safety.

Shit, really? Snape? I mean, it sorta explains his personality. . . A little. What about Lucius though? And Draco?

I don't think we should let them in just yet.

Then why aren't you sending Malfoy home?

"Lucius, you will leave us now," Voldemort said, cold voice clear and carrying. 

Harry waited until he saw the man disappear in his peripheral view before snaking his arms and legs around the Dark Lord.

Harry, I said 'let him in' not show him that you're trying to feel me up.

But Daddy~

I will fucking spank your ass for real until your professor sees you make a mess of yourself. You know, the professor that hates you and may choose to report to Dumbledore?

Harry wanted to curse the man. He might be bold as anything alone with Voldemort, but he wasn't interested in anyone other than the man whose lap he was currently occupying seeing him naked and vulnerable.

So, who's going to tell him?

Would you like to? Voldemort asked, voice giving away a sense of profound disinterest.

Meh. I don't really care.

How about you go ahead and start telling him, then I'll jump in if necessary.

'Kay, but how intensive is this going?

I'd recommend you start with the abuse so Severus will understand the situation.

"Professor," Harry said, turning his head just enough to see Snape.

Severus made no reply, eyes cautious.

"Professor Severus Snape. Tell me, how close do you look? What have you seen?"

The man's black eyes flicked to the ruby red gaze of his Lord, "My Lord, what is going on?"

"Listen."

"What did you see the first day I came to Hogwarts? Tell me."

"I saw an arrogant little brat. Clearly already been in a fight with the other kids. Bruises marking your neck and the side of your face, but grinning like a fool."

"Hmm," Harry said, lightly, as though not disappointed. He turned so he no longer looked at Snape and intertwined his own pale bronze fingers with long ghostly white ones. He still wore the glamour of how he looked previous to Death, and he dropped it for Severus to see.

"This is what I look like now," Harry said, focusing on where his hand linked to Voldemort's, "About three days ago, I was eighty-nine pounds and 61 inches tall."

"That's impossible," Severus sputtered, "You're 66 inches tall now, and about 135 lbs. Such a change is simply not something that could happen."

"I died, you see," Harry said offhandedly, "Care to know what happened?"

Severus shook his head mutely, and Harry glared back viciously, eyes removing themselves from his hands.

"Well that sucks for you, Professor," Harry snarled.

He called up the abuse his uncle had inflicted upon him before he was taken to the hospital, called up the view from a third person perspective and projected it into Snape's mind, not wanting Voldemort to see it.

He skipped from the end of the abuse and the mediwizards arriving, where he had pretended to pass out, to the panic attack that lead to his death.

"What do you think? Am I a pampered, spoiled brat? One that lived with a silver spoon in my mouth since before I could talk?"

Severus shook his head, but Harry could see the other man didn't actually acknowledge his abuse as something that had really happened.

Anger built, a pressure on his chest. He never realized just how angry he felt over the whole situation.

"Then run a health diagnostic on me," Harry said, fire in his eyes, "Look at all the injuries I have incurred."

Severus shook his head again, refusing, but with a sibilance to his voice, Voldemort said, "You will do as Harry has bid, or I will return you back to Dumbledore in one-inch pieces at a time through owl-post, keeping you alive throughout the entire process."

The black-eyed man closed his eyes and waved his wand, sending a familiar piece of parchment unfurling.

Shock, horror, revulsion, and disgust tore across the other man's face, and Harry felt the pressure within himself continue to build. This man- this man might've saved him, might've rescued him from the abusive spawn of demons that had raised him. But he hadn't. He hadn't cared one jot about Harry, even as he harbored a love for his mother. He was too preoccupied with James.

Harry had had enough of it.

Feeling the emotions burst out of him on a tide of magic, he forced all his memories of abuse into Severus' mind, that is, before he curled in on himself in a mess of tears at the unfairness of it all.

Arms were held tight around him, and Harry could only distantly acknowledge that the person carrying him was moving him to a different location.

He felt hollowed out, like there was nothing left inside him but the knowledge of pain and grief that had to be let out.