More from my twisted imagination

Title: Confession
Author: Raget Nimds (cybele)
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/BZ (implied)
Rated: NC17
Disclaimer: I like playing with other people's toys. So sue me.
Summary: A strange detention
Warning: Twistedness. Sacrilege. I'm not kidding. Don't read if desecrating the church squicks you.

AN: I originally wrote this as a gift to Snaples because I like to push her buttons. I ended up discovering buttons I didn't know I had. I know it's OTT, but it was fun to write anyway.



Confessions

"Class dismissed. Mr Potter, please stay behind to discuss your detention."

If Harry had only suspected before that Snape had it out for him, he was certain now. He'd allowed Malfoy to continue provoking Harry all through class and then decided to pay attention the moment Harry fought back. He didn't know how the man got away with such transparent favouritism. It was ridiculous.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Harry sulked as the rest of the class poured out the doors, set free into the warm late summer afternoon while he would be trapped in the dungeons, working like a slave, cleaning cauldrons or shredding toad skins. It wasn't just his status as a Gryffindor that made Snape despise him. It was his very existence. Harry was cursed because he was Harry.

He glowered and waited to be sentenced. When the last student wandered out the door, the door slammed shut. Harry was used to this. Snape always shut the door when discussing detentions. He exhaled an unimpressed sigh and glared up at the professor insolently.

Six years. Six years of trying to prove his worth as a wizard. Six years of battling the forces of darkness and emerging on the other side of battle unscathed. Six years and not a whit of difference in Snape's opinion of him. If it was possible, the man hated him more now than he did in Harry's first year. But unlike then, Snape didn't intimidate Harry.

Well, not usually. But just then, Snape was looking at Harry with an expression that reminded Harry of the way Voldemort's snake had looked at him on those unfortunate occasions that Harry had met Nagini. Harry shivered slightly and then fixed his jaw once more.

"I should extend your punishment for the sheer contempt in your regard, Potter."

"You probably will anyway," Harry spat. "Even without the contempt."

"You will be spending the first Hogsmeade weekend with me, Mr Potter. And if you choose to challenge that, we will make it every weekend of this term. And if you continue with blatant hostility, I will have no reservations about keeping you with me every weekend of your sixth year."

"You like me that much?" Harry knew he should shut up, but he couldn't. He was angry and sick of being pushed around by Slytherin prats with power complexes. And while he couldn't resist Blaise, he was used to crossing Snape. So now he would give every ounce of rebelliousness its outlet. Even if it did mean more punishment than he could handle.

Snape smiled sinisterly and walked around the table to stand close to the boy. Harry turned to confront the professor, willing his face into a firmly impertinent expression, despite the pounding of his heart.

"I can see you have forgotten yourself over the summer holidays, Mr Potter. Not enough discipline at home, perhaps."

"Just tell me what you want from me, Professor." Harry narrowed his eyes obstinately. The responding low laugh chilled Harry and reminded him of the one person against whom he was really reacting. Harry fought to keep his composure and cursed the twisted effect the older man's wickedness was having on Harry's trousers. Harry waited for the man to step away the way Snape normally did whenever he realised his intimidation had been effective. But this time, Snape didn't step away.

"What I want from you? Confession."

That—wasn't quite what Harry had expected to hear. Harry furrowed his brow into a truly befuddled expression. "Confession?"

Snape turned away and walked back to his desk before answering. "I want you, Mr Potter, to tell me everything you know about Muggle religious practices. Your piety last term has inspired me to learn more. I would like to start with the subject of Confession. It intrigues me."

Harry was too busy wondering what the hell Snape was on to be bothered by the reference to his sexual trysts. "But sir, Confession is a Catholic practice. The Dursleys aren't Catholic. I don't know anything about it."

"Mr Potter, why don't you begin by telling me what you do know, and then you will have the opportunity to research any missing gaps in your knowledge." Snape had his back to Harry as he spoke, erasing the blackboard. Harry felt grateful because he was certain the gaping baffled expression on his face was unflattering to say the least.

Harry swallowed. "You mean, now?"

Snape looked over his shoulder. "Yes, Mr Potter. Now."

Harry slumped onto the bench and looked down at his folded hands. "Well, I only know what I've seen in films, sir. There's a sort of booth that they go into. A kind of closet that's divided. The priest sits on one side and the person confessing sits on the other side. There's a screen which separates them. Er...the person tells the priest all the sinful things they did since their last confession and then the priest tells them how many times they have to pray before they're forgiven. That...that's all I know, sir."

The insolence in Harry's voice was gone, given over to the surprise at his punishment. This would make the second conversation he'd ever had with Snape. And the second religious conversation he'd had with Snape. Although the first had very little to do with religion and ended with Harry's humiliation staining his pale cheeks.

Snape turned a neutral expression on the boy. "And what do you think of the practice, Mr Potter?"

Harry blushed inexplicably and then shrugged. "Well, I don't know. It seems weird to me. I don't see the point in telling some bloke about..." Harry blushed again. "I don't know, sir."

"Telling some bloke about what, exactly? What ‘sins' are confessed?"

"The bad ones, sir." Harry's voice took on a choked sound. Snape's eyebrow raised in unrelenting question. Harry sighed. "You know, like--" Harry took a deep breath, "lying."

The sneer which formed on Snape's mouth froze Harry's insides. He should have known his punishment wasn't going to be so...pleasant.

"Tell me, Potter, were you to confess just now, for which sins would you have to answer?"

Harry thought frantically for a moment before settling on the vague answer, "All of them, sir. I've never been to confession and technically I would have to confess everything I've ever done wrong."

"I see. So, let's pretend that you gave confession last week. Humour me, Potter. This is, after all, your punishment. Do tell me what you have to confess since last Friday."

Snape sat at his desk and folded his hands in an uncharacteristically patient gesture. Which only made Harry blush harder. Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to calm himself. This wouldn't be so bad. He could lie. He was quite good at lying, actually. Especially to Snape. "Well," he began, but his mind drew a blank. He couldn't think of one transgression he'd committed which would neither humiliate him nor get him into serious trouble. "Sir, I don't know what to say."

"I have in my possession a little potion that might make this easier on you," Snape purred. "But I think I see your dilemma, Mr Potter. If I'm not mistaken, normally this practice of confession is anonymous and confidential, am I right?"

Harry nodded.

"While the anonymity is quite impossible, I'm afraid, I can assure you that given the circumstances, I will not punish you for whatever you might say. I will grant you confidentiality and immunity for any wrong doings. My position is as your confessor at the moment, not your teacher. Please, continue."

Somehow, Snape's gift of immunity wasn't making this easier on the boy. Harry fidgeted and wished for nothing more than a pile of toad skins to shred. He would even welcome the task of scrubbing the dungeon floors over this one. Harry shook his head. "I don't know, sir."

"Very well, Potter. Allow me to help you. Why don't you start by telling me what you were doing in this room last night."

Harry's stomach sank. "Last night, sir?" he choked. Oh god. He really had to convince Blaise to take their little encounters somewhere else. He'd tried on several occasions, but Blaise liked the morbidity of fucking in the Potions classroom. Blaise was a little off, Harry realised. But the sensations the strange boy could invoke kept Harry bowed to his will.

"Yes, Potter, last night. You were in this room, last night, with another student, were you not? Why don't you tell me now what sort of sins you were committing?"

The word ‘sodomy' streaked through Harry's brain like lightening. Thankfully it didn't make it to his tongue. "I was studying, sir," he lied.

"You are a wicked boy," Snape said quietly before rising and walking toward Harry once more. Snape seated himself across the work table and stared Harry in the eye. "You would add deception to your already long list of transgressions. You would lie to you confessor. Lie to your god?"

It occurred to Harry that all the Slytherins might just be a little off. The deranged glint in Snape's eyes stilled the boy's heart. And dammit. Why was he damned to be the Slytherin house's toy?

Harry became filled with an indignant anger. He narrowed his eyes and growled. "Fine. You want to know what I was doing? I was getting buggered over your desk."

Harry successfully kept his eyes on that dark glare, meeting Snape's challenge. Reclaiming his dignity. He shut out that voice in his head screaming "You are such a git!" That voice drowned out an almost inaudible gasp coming from across the table. Harry never heard it.

"That is a serious transgression, indeed. Punishable by stoning if I remember correctly. You will have to pray extra hard before your god will forgive you for that."

Harry regulated his breathing long enough to ask, "What sort of sick game are you playing, Snape?"

"A game which I am certain you will thoroughly enjoy, Potter."

"I could tell Dumbledore," Harry said in a low whisper.

"Tell Dumbledore what, exactly? That I confronted you about your little midnight rendezvous in my classroom? That I forced you to admit to being buggered over my desk? Why, I could tell Dumbledore a few things as well. Shall we pay him a visit, Mr Potter? Oh, do let's." Snape smiled wickedly.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing you will not willingly give. You are with me every weekend this term for your insolence. You can spend your detentions cleaning cauldrons. Or you can purge your soul of wickedness." An ironic smirk punctuated the offer.

"You want me to confess. To you? Why?"

"The life of a professor is dull, Mr Potter, unless they can find something with which to entertain their imaginations. You might think it perverse. But I don't really care about what you think." Snape stood and looked down his nose at Harry who was obviously considering the proposal.

"I won't give you names," Harry said firmly.

"I don't care for names, Mr Potter. I only care that what you tell me is the truth. And I would ask that you do this completely of your own free will. I am not forcing you. I am not holding punishment over you that you have not already earned. That needs to be made perfectly clear."

Earned, indeed, Harry wanted to say. But he thought he understood what Snape was trying to tell him. It was an out of sorts. And, Harry thought he might finally have lost his mind, but he really was intrigued. His curiosity urged him to accept the arrangement. Their first officially scheduled confession would take place the next day, giving Harry all night to do something which he might confess.

***

Harry looked down at the parchment he'd received at lunch.

*There is a storeroom down the west corridor of the dungeon. The last door on the left. Your detention will be served there.*

Harry stood before the door and tried to still the swirling of apprehension in his stomach. He knocked. The door opened almost immediately, as though Snape had known he was there and was merely waiting for him to gather courage enough to announce his presence. Harry stepped into the small empty stone room and the door shut behind him. It was dark and shadowed and Harry had to squint to make out the sombre expression on Snape's face. He looked down to see what appeared to be a cloth covered board on the floor.

"You will kneel. There." Harry looked up, astonished. When trying to imagine what their sessions would be like, Harry had the mental image of sitting in a comfortable chair with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed as he recounted his latest adventures. Snape, it seemed, had a wholly different plan. And one that didn't look nearly as comfortable. Harry took a moment to marvel at how strange his life had become since he began consorting with Slytherins.

At least, Harry thought as he put his knees to the board, there was a bit more cushion than the stone floor. Once he was settled Harry began turning his head to look up at Snape expectantly. Snape's hand forced his head into a bowed position.

"You are to do this as it would normally be done. Begin."

Harry wanted to argue that since he had no idea how confession was supposed to go, he couldn't do the task properly. But he decided that since Snape had no idea either, Harry could probably blague it pretty well. Feeling totally ridiculous he drew on whatever films he had ever seen which had confession scenes and began. "Forgive me, Father for I have sinned. It's been...one day since my last confession." Harry's mouth twisted into a smile and he tried to still the giggle threatening to produce.

"I think you're supposed to say something here. A question or something about the nature of the sin. But I don't know."

"Continue," Snape whispered. Harry was surprised that his voice seemed to be coming from directly above him, but he didn't dare look up to confirm Snape's position.

"Yesterday I was insolent to my Professor and then I lied to my friends about my punishment because I didn't think it wise to tell them the truth." Harry grinned before continuing. "And then late last night, I snuck out of my room again to meet...someone."

"Where did you meet?"

"The dungeons, sir. The same place we always meet. I didn't want to. I've tried to stop seeing him. But I can't. He..." Harry trailed off. This wasn't where he wanted to go. "Well, anyway, we met. And we...committed sins of the flesh." Nice vaguely worded phrase, that one. So much better than ‘He fucked my brains out.'

"Did you initiate the contact?"

Harry paused at the question. Someday he would realise that things were never as simple as he first thought with Snape. "No. I never do. He doesn't...allow it." Harry clenched his dignity between his teeth. He was admitting to being submissive. To being exploited.

"How did it begin?"

"I can't do this," Harry said quietly, falling back to sit on his heels. "I'm sorry, sir. This is too...personal," *humiliating*, he wanted to say.

Harry felt a body kneel behind him, pressing against his back side.

"He's manipulating you, Potter." Snape's breath caressed Harry's neck awaking shivers of arousal throughout Harry's body. "It is bothering you because you are stronger than you let yourself be with him. And yet, there is a part of you that craves this humiliation, isn't there? There is a part of you that wants to jump off that pedestal upon which the rest of the world has placed you. And that is why you can't stop. And won't stop. But you want to tell me. You need to tell me because there is no one else you can tell."

The fear and pleasure waltzing around Harry's body, twisting and twirling, made Harry dizzy. He thoughtlessly obeyed the command of those hands pushing him back to kneel on the board. Snape kneeled behind him, his legs pressing against the outside of Harry's. The heat of the man warmed Harry from behind. Assuaged the boy's trepidation.

"What did he do last night?" Snape asked. His voice was low and so close that Harry felt it vibrating over the back of his neck. Harry shivered.

"He told me to undress and kiss the wall, like he always does. He had...some sort of potion last night, sir. A salve that he used as l-" Harry stumbled over the word and closed his eyes to find his strength. "Lubrication. It...sort of burned and itched. But not in a bad way. Not really."

Harry paused to hear Snape grunt in recognition. He thought of asking if Snape knew what Blaise had used, but decided that if he stopped the story now, he wasn't going to finish. He continued. "It was weird. Like if he didn't...touch that part of me, I would go mad. But he made me beg first. He told me to put my forehead to the floor. I don't know what he had...what he stuck in me..." Harry grew hard at the memory. Painfully so. And Snape's heated presence behind him wasn't doing anything for his control.

"It was huge and seemed to get bigger the longer it was inside. He wouldn't let me see it. He doesn't let me look at him most of the time. But if felt incredible and hurt like hell," Harry said, suddenly forgetting who it was he was talking to, so caught up in sensual memory. His arse contracted and arched back convulsively, meeting with the telling hardness of an erection behind him. Snape's hands flew to Harry's hips to still them, but did not push them away. Kept them in place, against Snape's cock.

"Continue," Snape kissed into Harry's neck.

Harry swallowed his heart which had leapt up and began beating in his throat. He was practically panting and wanted desperately to fight against those hands, to rub against that exquisite hardness behind him.

"The thing...it was...seemed alive. It started wiggling and pressing things inside me. It hurt. But in a good way. And then B--he took it out and..."

"Did he come inside you?" Snape whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of Harry's ear, those hands gripping Harry's hips hard enough to bruise.

Harry groaned a ‘yes,' and moved his hands to Snape's, dragging one toward his cock. The momentary freedom from that hand allowed him to arch once more against Snape's erection while Snape's long fingers curled under to cup Harry's balls. Harry was stilled once more.

"You should pray for forgiveness, you wicked child," Snape breathed into Harry's ear.

"God," Harry moaned. Snape began grinding his hips against Harry arse and Harry's head fell forward.

"Pray, or I'll stop," Snape warned, thrusting against Harry's arse once more.

"God, don't stop." The hand began rubbing against the lump in Harry's trousers, sending the boy out in a wave of sensation. He swallowed and tried to recall the appropriate words. "Our Father," he began, his hand moving to release his aching cock. "Who art in Heaven," he continued, working away the buttons of his jeans. "Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come," Snape groaned as Harry wrenched down his jeans and his shorts at once. Snape grabbed hold of Harry's bared cock, his other hand moving across Harry's arse. Harry fell forward onto his hands and offered himself for the taking. "Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven." Long stained fingers brushed over his opening carefully, two sliding in easily, stretched as Harry was from his adventure the night before. "Give us--oh, fuck--this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who...please...god, fuck me..." The fingers drove in violently as though to punish him. Harry cried out and backed into that hand fucking the sin from him. A burning need overtook him. His mouth moved over the prayer automatically while the rest of his body concerned itself with backing into those fingers and thrusting into the hand on his cock. "As we forgive them who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...god, I'm going to...For thine is the...fuck...kingdom and the gl-OH-ry, AH!" Harry exploded over Snape's hand fisting him. His arse clenched around those fingers still tormenting his prostate, pulsing against it, causing the shuddering paralysis of orgasm to suspend itself mid-climax. Harry was close to tears before the fingers withdrew, allowing him to slump onto the cool stone floor, boneless from his absolution.

After a moment, he became aware that Snape had stood. Harry turned to his side and looked up into the darkness of the room. "Who am I supposed to confess this to?" He laughed lightly.

"No one if you wish it to continue."

Snape offered a hand to help Harry up. Harry raised his jeans silently. An awkward tension hung over them. Harry faced the man once more.

"This was...strange."

Snape stilled the boy with a hard look, eyes gleaming through the shadowed room. "Such is redemption."

Snape turned and opened the door, leaving Harry behind to choke on his confusion.

***
end