Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Thicker Than Water	By : harriet Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I don't profess to own any of the characters or plot co-incidents with the Harry Potter series written by JK Rowling, contained within this story. I do neither profit monetarily nor legally from anything contained within these pages.

Chapter List
- 10
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CHAPTER 11
“You’re insane. I could have been killed!” Harry gasped over his shoulder as he went to enter his own chambers once they’d reached the dungeons.
“As you say.” Snape replied critically as he watched the young wizard hiss in pain as he tried to push open the door to his own rooms. “I suggest you follow me to my own chambers, so we can sort out your injuries.” With a sweep of robes Snape strode past Harry to the portrait that marked the entrance to his own chambers. Infuriatingly Snape’s door opened automatically, the wards acknowledging the owner of the rooms without hesitation. Harry muttered under his breath about Snape’s stupid dungeons before sighing in resignation and following the elder wizard into his chambers.
Harry had never been inside Snape’s private chambers before, having only ever been privy to the professor’s potions office when he was a student. Stepping into the room Harry stood stiffly as the door closed quietly behind him. Snape was bustling around the room and Harry took the time to take in the surprising décor of the professors chambers. Harry had expected a cold desolate room with nothing but minimal pratical furniture but Harry was somewhat surprised by the cosy, richly furnished room before him. Two large overstuffed arm chairs in deep purple sat in front of the fire, a large dark carved coffee table sat between the chairs, a wizard’s chess set sitting on top of it. Two of the walls were lined with book shelves that were brimming with dusty tombs and antique artifacts. A chaise lounge was tucked in a nook, an open book left lying on it carelessly. The dark intricately carved wooden furniture lended the room towards the gothic feel and the plush rugs, and cushions told of a wizard who preferred comfort in his home. Two arches led from the main living room and Harry assumed that they led to his bedroom and perhaps a kitchen similar to his own rooms.
“Potter come and sit.” Harry drew his attention back from his casual perusal of Snape’s home back to the wizard himself. Harry was somewhat surprised to see that the potions professor had discarded his outer teacher robes and was stood up in only his black wool trousers and white collared shirt. Snape had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and had unbuttoned the top two buttons. His hair he had tied back with a thick black ribbon at the nape of his neck and Harry took a moment to admire how much more distinguished the wizard looked without the greasy locks hanging about his face. Dutifully Harry came to sit on the chair and was surprised when Snape knelt before him and reached for the laces on the leather dueling vest Harry still wore.
“I can do this myself.” Feeling somewhat awkward Harry muttered as he pulled away from Snape as the man began unlacing the vest. Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes ignoring Harry’ request, to continue unlacing the vest. It was clear that the young wizard knew nothing of tradition, and Snape silently cursed the lax teaching that some professors had provided during Harry’s school years.

“Aside from the fact you are clearly in pain, the tradition of champions in pureblood families is steeped in ceremony. The victor of a duel would never be allowed to undress alone.” Harry relaxed a little as Snape continued to unlace the vest before drawing it carefully off over Harry’s head. With the leather vest gone Harry slumped a little in Snape’s comfortable arm chair, suddenly feeling the stiffening of his muscles and bruises “This task would usually fall to your family but as the one who ultimately got you into this situation the task falls to me.” Harry watched as Snape stood up and disappeared into one of the arched doorways for a few minutes before returning with a small wooden case of potions and a large steaming bowl of hot water. The pain in Harry’s hands was rising and he had begun to shake a little his gloved hands still clutched protectively to his chest. Harry swallowed convulsively as he leant back against the chair as Snape knelt on the floor in front of him again and reached gently for his hands. “Try to relax, I know you’re in pain.” Harry closed his eyes as he felt Snape begin unlacing the braces and gloves. Harry’s hands shook in Snape’s own as he gently eased the leather gloves off.
“Ooooh, fuck.” Harry swore his hands still shaking as the pain increased the instant the gloves were gone. Snape surveyed the damage to Harry’s hands. The snakes fangs had ripped large holes in his skin, the fang marks piercing deep into the muscles. Snape bit his lip in sympathy the young man sat before him must be in agony. Harry was chewing the inside of his mouth, trying not to look at the mess that was his hands and trying not to call out in pain. Snape’s touch was gentle and feather light as he unbuttoned the cuffs of Harry’s shirt and rolled the mauve material up to his sleeves.
“It doesn’t look like they poisoned you, but I’ll give you an antivenin potion just to be sure.” Harry nodded as he felt Snape run gentle fingers up his forearms, following his veins searching for signs of poison. The touch sent a shiver of lust through Harry’s body but thankfully Snape misinterpreted Harry’s shiver as one of pain. “Here swallow these two together.” Snape helped Harry drink both vile tasting potions before he stepped away over to a drinks cabinet on the far side of the room.

“You know a lot about this tradition stuff.” Harry spoke in an effort to try and make his libido calm down. “Did you ever duel?” Snape returned with two glasses of amber liquid, one with a short straw stuck in it. Harry smiled inwardly at Snape’s consideration of his hands as he sipped at the liquid that had been put on the small side table beside him.
“The Snape family has moved in pureblood wizarding circles for years. Unfortunately it meant I was brought up with a healthy respect for tradition and ceremony, some more barbaric than others. Dueling with swords was my father’s way of ensuring he had an heir who was capable of looking after the family name and reputation.” Harry closed his eyes tightly as Snape gently placed his hands in the warm water of the bowl he’d brought out earlier. “Breath Harry, in and out. You’ll adjust to the pain.” Snape spoke calmly to Harry having noted with concern that the young wizard was hyperventilating and had begun to look pale. Nodded obediently Harry tried to calm his breathing as he felt Snape’s gentle washing.
“Your Dad sounds like a dick.” Harry muttered breathlessly, desperate for the conversation to continue in order to take his mind off the pain. Snape raised an eyebrow in Harry’s direction.
“Most refer to him as being tough…” Snape paused as he touched one of the deeper puncture wounds on Harry’s hands causing his patient to buck up off the chair. Snape held firm and gently soothed his fingers over Harry’s palm encouraging the boy to calm down. “…but I suppose your analogy covers it more succinctly.”
“I know what you’re doing.” Harry breathed out shakily as he opened his eyes and watched as Snape gently removed his hands from the water and laid them carefully on his knees, wrapped gently in a soft white towel.
“And what would that be Mr. Potter?” Snape inquired coolly pleased that Harry had calmed down again.
“You’re distracting me from my shitty life by telling me your secrets.” Snape barked a genuine laugh and Harry was amazed at how the stern professor’s face lit up with amusement. It was a rare thing to see a genuine smile on Severus Snape’s face and Harry knew it was a gift rare bestowed. “Did you think I didn’t notice in the Ravenclaw bathroom, you’re doing the same thing now.” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath as the professor gently dried his hands, careful not to inflame further bleeding.
“Alas my reputation as a cold uncaring potions professor is ruined, what ever shall I do?” Snape feigned mock shock as he reached gently behind him and held up a pair of white cotton gloves. Harry watched as Snape poured half a bottle of purple coloured potion into each glove before gesturing for Harry to slip his hands into them. Pain creased Harry’s face again although Snape knew the potions he’d given him earlier were beginning to kick in. “More to the point is my distraction working? I’d be disappointed indeed if I’d bared my soul for no reason.”
“Your secrets are safe with me; god knows I’ve got enough of my own.” Harry relaxed back into the armchair as Snape rose from the floor to take away the bowl of bloodied water and the towel. “So tell me who looked after you after your battles?” Snape returned from the kitchenette a few minutes later to collect his own glass of whisky from the mantle above the fireplace. Harry noted that Snape had a small wooden box in his hand.
“My brother.” Snape sipped on his whisky as he sat himself down in the armchair opposite Harry, determined to keep an eye on his charge as the potions in his system worked their magic.
“I didn’t realize you had siblings.” Harry was clearly shocked, having never heard mention of any of Snape’s family. The man himself had never spoken of such things and Harry had just assumed he was an only child.
“My younger brother was spared much of my father’s cruel attentions. As the eldest son I was his heir and thus the responsibility of the family fell to my shoulders. My father would arrange the duels but he never tended to me after a success. From an early age my brother was quite privy to the wounds I bore.” Snape sipped again from his whisky, idly swilling the amber liquid around in the cut crystal glass.
“It sounds like you dueled a lot.” Harry muttered entranced by the long potion stained fingers clutched around Snape’s glass. Snape huffed a contemptable laugh before leaning forward his free hand coming up to drag his hair away from his neck to reveal the skin behind his ear to Harry’s gaze. Harry’s mouth hung open in shock as he stared at the tattoos he saw on the pale skin just beneath the hair line behind Snape’s ear. They were little tally marks so fine that they looked like Snape’s hair.
“These are honor marks for each victory. There are 38 in all, the first 15 I earned before I even turned 17.” Snape let his hair fall back into place, some of the strands falling free of the ribbon to cascade carelessly about his face. “For everyone I won, there were five I did not, and unlike your own duel tonight mine were conceded victories.” Harry tilted his head to the side unsure of what it meant. Snape couldn’t help himself and rolled his eyes had the wizard learnt nothing in his seven years of schooling. “It means that in order to win one of the participants must verbally concede defeat. As you would imagine it takes a lot to make someone admit they have lost. Naturally the damage to your body from the blows of a sword is going to leave scars. My brother was always there after I’d won, to bathe me, tend my wounds and put me to bed with a dreamless sleep potion.” Snape’s gaze turned distant and Harry was warmed by the devotion and love Snape clearly had of his brother.
“What happened when you did win?” Harry inquired as Snape’s gaze settled back on the mouthful of whisky that was left in the bottom of his glass.
“My love of whisky started early.” Snape muttered as he swallowed what remained of his whisky, the answer to Harry’s question not lost on the other wizard. Clearly Snape had, had to look after himself after a loss, and Harry was supremely glad he’d won against Hartford.
“Well, it’s getting late. The pain potion has undoubtedly kicked in.” Snape put his now empty glass aside and opened the small wooden box sitting on his lap. “So where is it going to be Potter?” Harry didn’t know what Snape was referring to and cocked his head to the side in confusion as the professor removed what looked like a needle and ink pot from the small wooden box.
“Where what’s going?” Harry queried as he watched Snape adjust the end of the needle before dipping it into the ink.
“Your honor tattoo Harry. You are the victor.” Snape stood up and stepped towards Harry, who creased his eyebrows in concern. “Unlike my father who gave me no choice in where my tattoos are placed, you may decide where it goes.” Harry sighed and nodded, it would be a slight on a tradition Snape held in high esteem if he didn’t accept the tattoo. So Harry nodded and gestured to the inside of his wrist.

“Might as well get it where it’ll remind me never to do something so stupid again.” Snape knelt before him, and Harry held his wrist steady as Snape leant over him and began the tattoo. The needle was so fine that Harry hardly noticed the pin pricks of pain as Snape worked quickly conscious of Harry’s already abused hands and wrists.
“There, it suits you.” Snape leant back after five minutes of work and allowed Harry to admire the tattoo. Surprisingly Snape had not mirrored his own tattoos of single lines, but had instead drawn an intricate little snake on his inner wrist. Harry smiled at the image as Snape stood back up and returned the needle and ink to the box. “Your first tattoo?” Snape inquired casually over his shoulder as he watched Harry yawn in fatigue.
“Surprisingly enough, no.” Harry whispered as he watched Snape raise an eyebrow at him in surprise. “And don’t ask where or what they are that’s another of my secrets.” Harry countered as Snape went to question him about said tattoos. Snape chuckled softly and disappeared through the larger archway leading from his living room. He returned with a soft grey woven blanket and a pillow with a silk cover.
“A secret for another disaster then?” Harry nodded as he watched Snape lay the pillow and blanket on the chaise in the nook. “I will have to insist you stay here tonight incase I have missed any signs of poison.” Standing up, Harry swayed on his feet unaware of just how exhausted he actually was. Seeing Harry struggle Snape quickly stepped to Harry’s side and helped him over to the chaise. Sitting Harry down, Snape knelt to take off Harry’s muggle running shoes before helping the boy lay down on the pillow.
“Severus?” Snape smiled at the use of his first name as he draped the blanket over Harry’s body. “Where’s your brother now?” Harry’s eyes were sliding closed useless fighting the sleeping potion Snape had slipped into the whisky.
“Ah, that would be my secret for another disaster.” Snape gently removed Harry’s glasses and placed them carefully on the small table beside the chaise. Harry went to speak but Snape watched as the potion finally took Harry into sleep, the young man’s features softening a he fell into slumber. For a long moment Snape stared at Harry’s face, before sighing and moving back to sit in his armchair for the long night of watching over Harry’s sleep.
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Authors Notes: Hi all, another update. A softer side of Seveus this time, I think. Hope you enjoy and thank-you for the lovely reviews.
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Thicker Than Water