The curse wasn't hard to follow. Now that Harry was locked in the nightmare, there was a trail of malevolence that led deep into his lover's subconscious like a slug's trail across a garden leaf. It was no trouble following it down, deep into Harry's mind.
What Severus found there was an appalling landmine of torture, rape, and depravity. There were dozens of scenarios, each a separate spell embedded in Harry's mind. He'd hoped to be able to enter Harry's mind and alter them all at once, but he was going to have to take them apart one by one as Harry endured them, and rewrite the endings, if he could.
One question was answered, though. Severus discovered why Harry had these dreams nearly every time he slept with someone. Voldemort had locked the nightmares to Harry's sexual drive. The dreams were triggered when Harry fell asleep after orgasm, which was no doubt why he had them so often in lovers' beds. The Dreamless Sleep potion Harry had been taking these last six weeks had stopped them from troubling him during their relationship so far, but he couldn't go on like that indefinitely.
Severus studied the spell of the current scenario, with an eye as to how to remove or destroy it. Curses were rather like onions. They had distinct layers of power and intent that wound together and melded to form the actual magic. As such, they could be taken apart, pieces of them transformed to alter the whole. This one was especially insidious. Voldemort's power and intent were there as distinct entities, but the Dark Lord had grafted the curse to the hidden subconscious wellspring of Harry's own power, tying it to his magic and sexuality.
The malignant shadow was huge, with thousands of tendrils rooted in all parts of Harry's mind. As Severus had feared, the curse was tied too deeply to Harry's subconscious to be safely untangled. His only course was to attempt altering pieces of it, mainly the events at the end of the nightmare sequence. Concentrating on the curse, Severus could see what would happen, how in several minutes, four Death Eaters would enter Harry's cell to rape him. He had to act now, or he would miss his chance to interrupt and alter the plot.
He'd never done this kind of work before; nor had anyone else, he suspected. For all Severus knew, Voldemort could have booby-trapped the nightmares. There would be no way of knowing until he tripped the trap, and then Harry would pay for his clumsiness. So, he studied the curse as long as he could afford to, trailing it as it tangled through Harry's unconscious mind like a deadly cancer.
To his intense relief, egotism proved Voldemort's undoing. Obviously, the Dark Lord had never anticipated that anyone would discover what he'd done. Most men wouldn't have lasted as long as Harry. They'd have been insane or dead by their own hand by now.
When Severus thought he'd grasped all the intricacies of the spell, he reached out to meld his own power with the curse. This was the tricky part. Go in too strong and he could shatter Harry's mind. If he were too weak, he would end up an impotent witness to the nightmare as it played out.
Harry moaned as Severus linked with that deeply embedded spell. The breath and the very blood in his veins seemed to freeze at the sound, but Harry didn't react to him further.
Releasing the breath he'd been holding, Severus used his power to reroute some of Voldemort's energy to binding the spell more firmly to Harry's mind, thereby allowing him to alter the weakened plot stream. If this were a success, the new dream would recur more frequently, for he was giving it far more power than the others had.
Severus eliminated three of the four Death Eaters from the scenario. They vanished like will-o-the-wisps at dawn, leaving nothing behind. He studied the last Death Eater, and then began to make his alterations. First, the mask and robes had to go. They'd be enough in themselves to terrify Harry.
The middle aged, overweight, dark haired man with the single eyebrow and sadistic leer that remained when the Death Eater garb was removed was hardly comforting. He needed to replace this unpleasant creature with someone who would translate to instant safety to Harry. He considered making the man into Ronald Weasley, but the dream was tied to Harry's sexuality and Ron was too much like his brother to fill that role. Unfortunately, Severus had no knowledge of anyone else Harry was close enough to that he could substitute. So, he invented a dream lover for Harry.
Severus made the Death Eater thinner and younger, softening his features, smoothing his skin. He was pleased with the effect, until he realized that he had subconsciously turned the man into Harry's twin.
That wouldn't do.
Severus tried to imagine the kind of man Harry should be with. Someone bright and beautiful like Harry himself, that was a given. Thinking that opposites attracted, he made the man taller than Harry, broadened his shoulders, and then changed his hair from the black messy tangle that was Harry's to loose honey blond curls. He gave Harry's dream lover a classically straight nose and strong jaw. He made the eyes a deep blue, the face handsome, and yet affable at the same time, a pleasing visage that anyone would instantly trust. For added confidence, he clothed the hero in Gryffindor robes.
When Severus was satisfied with his creation, he turned his attention back to the curse. Untangling the actual instructions that would program the events in the dream took a moment, but he finally found the section he needed. Since the spell was tied to Harry's sexual drive, Severus couldn't remove the sexual events entirely, but he could alter them, make them palatable to Potter. Where Voldemort's story line read 'Death Eaters enter cell and all four repeatedly rape young Potter,' with all the grim details laid out in vivid colour, Severus changed the instructions to 'Your true love has discovered your whereabouts and breaks in the door to rescue you. This is the man that you trust more than any other. You trust him with your life. The instant you see him, you will feel better and know that everything will be all right. Your lover will enter the cell, react to your tortured condition, then drop to his knees to heal you. Once you are recovered, you will kiss him and he will then proceed to make passionate love to you.'
Severus studied his scenario, testing it for flaws, but it held together. When he was convinced it was adequate, he began the delicate task of carefully grafting his new instructions over the old ones. The substitution had to be seamless or the results could be disastrous to Harry. He had to match the exact frequency of magical power Voldemort had employed, and insert his new scenes in precisely the right place to overlay the original plot.
Severus was blazing new ground here, inventing a cure for something that should have been unalterable. The stakes were Harry's sanity and mental integrity. Too aware of the damage he could do, he made the substitution. The sweat was dripping from every pore of his body as he focussed everything he was on doing this properly.
When the new ending was grafted onto the dream scenario, he released a deep breath and returned his concentration to the part of Harry that was active in the nightmare. Harry was still struggling with his pain on the dungeon floor. He felt Harry's despair as the thick, ancient door creaked open.
Every nerve in Severus' body was stretched to breaking, waiting to see if it would be the four Death Eaters of the original plot that burst in or the Gryffindor hero he'd created for Harry.
The door opened. When Severus saw the red and gold-robed blond enter alone, his relief was almost a sexual release. His Gryffindor hero stood poised in the door, wand out, ready to take on all comers in Harry Potter's defence.
Through a haze of blood, Harry stared up at the man, and then something began to happen.
Severus gasped in horror as the tall Gryffindor rescuer's form wavered. With a sinking heart, he realized that he mustn't have blended his alterations correctly. He'd used too little power in the binding spell; that had to be it.
Horrified, Severus watched as his creation's perfect nose lengthened until it seemed a couple of sizes too large for his face. The eyes and hair darkened to black, the hair lengthening. Simultaneously, the handsome face thinned down. The cheekbones protruded, becoming higher as the rest of the face became more angular. The skin became less pink until the face had a pronounced yellowish tinge to it. The Gryffindor robes faded to black, the shoulders beneath them becoming less broad and bonier.
Utterly astonished, Severus stared at the man in the doorway. It wasn't a Death Eater, or, at least, not a current one. His handsome hero had transformed into Severus himself – greasy hair, big nose, yellow-stained fingers and teeth, sallow face, and all.
The dream Snape faltered in the doorway. Although his expression revealed his dismay at Harry's state, the rescuer gave a snide, "Playing the hero again, Potter?" that Severus had absolutely not programmed into the scenario.
The bloodied Harry looked up from the floor, smiled, and asked, "What took you so long?"
Severus watched himself cross to the naked Potter and kneel beside him on the filthy floor. His wand swept over Harry's damaged body. Instant relief washed over him as Harry's pain diminished.
Then the dream Severus touched Harry's face and gruffly said, "I thought I'd lost you."
Harry buried his fingers in his hair and drew him down into a desperate kiss. One kiss, turned into two, and two into twenty as they lost themselves in each other. Severus watched Harry undo the dream Snape's robes. Jacket, shirt, trousers, and the rest followed as Harry efficiently stripped him down. His clothes landed in a heap on the filthy floor. Moments later the other Snape was on top of them, with Harry pressing down hard against him.
Severus had never really thought about what they looked like making love. It was startling to see himself as a stranger would. He could only stare at the image they presented: Harry so young and handsome, himself painfully unprepossessing. But somehow, when he was kissing Harry, he didn't seem as ill-formed as he did when he looked into his bathroom mirror. By some miraculous magic, they looked good together, like they belonged in each other's arms. Perhaps it was merely the contrast of youth and age, Harry's muscular build with his own leaner, taller form, but . . . for the first time in memory, Severus was not uncomfortable with his appearance.
Between the sensations Severus was receiving through Harry's neural network and his own response to watching the two men before him make love, he was hard as a rock. Feeling Harry's reactions as though they were his own, he moaned as Harry lifted his lover's long legs over his shoulders and entered the dream Snape. Harry bent forward until their mouths met.
It was bizarre to taste his own mouth, to be thrusting into his own tight body. This was one of the most peculiar sexual encounters of his life. Severus was currently making love to himself. The intense feelings Harry had for him, beyond mere sexual desire, awed him. Not just lust, not just convenience . . . it was nearly worship.
Of course, that could have a lot to do with the dream's circumstances. This Snape had, after all, just rescued him from a fate worse than death.
Severus tried not to place too much significance on what Harry was feeling for him, but even if it were all simply part of the dream, he'd never inspired this depth of emotion in anyone. As he watched Harry fuck his dream self, he basked in the affection, the almost palpable love Harry bore him, his heart soaking it up like the dried up sponge it was.
All too soon, Harry came deep inside his dream image, then the dream Snape climaxed all over both their chests. Outside the dream scenario, Severus was vaguely aware of his own body shuddering in helpless orgasm.
The dream pair were still locked together, kissing on the prison cell floor when the image started to fade as Harry's sleeping mind moved on to another dream.
Severus stayed in Harry's mind long enough to ensure that the new dream was not another night terror and then gently disengaged his consciousness from Harry's. Though what he would have done if another nightmare had followed, he had no idea. He was totally drained. He hadn't an ounce of energy, magical or otherwise, left, and his head was pounding so intensely that he thought it would shatter into a thousand pieces.
Completely back in his own body, Severus dragged in a deep breath of the sex-scented air, and nearly vomited up the contents of his stomach on the bed. He managed to hold it in, just.
Taking deep breaths, he slumped onto his back against the pillow and stared up at the vaulted ceiling.
He hadn't realized how long their consciousnesses had been connected. He'd never been so long in another's mind. Even brief mental connection required a tremendous expenditure of energy, which was one of the reasons why Occlumency and Legilimency were rarely practiced these days. The physical strain of prolonged contact was devastating. Recognizing how long he'd lingered in Harry's mind rewriting Voldemort's spell, he realized he was lucky he hadn't gone into cardiac arrest or suffered a stroke.
If a headache and upset stomach were all he had to pay for what he'd done, it was worth it. Harry hadn't suffered the full effects of the curse tonight, and if they were lucky, he'd be able to do the same with every other nightmare as it happened.
It was truly a pity that no one would know what he'd done here. Rewriting a curse wrought by spontaneous magic was unheard of. As with so many of the major accomplishments of his life, it would go unnoticed. But for once, Severus didn't mind. Harry would sleep better for his efforts, and that was all that was important to him.
He would have liked to have summoned a restorative potion or at the very least an analgesic for his aching head, but he was literally impotent at the moment. He doubted he had the energy to so much as stand up, let alone walk.
Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths and tried to relax, hoping the throbbing in his head would subside. Although the pain persisted, eventually his exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted over into sleep.
*~*~*
"Severus?"
Severus turned his head at the sound of his name, which was a definite mistake. His skull felt like it would crack wide open.
Prying his sticky eyelids apart, he glared at the disgustingly cheerful man sharing his pillow. If he'd had any power left to him at all, he would have cursed Potter for the smile the sadist was giving him.
"W-what?" Severus croaked.
