52 | By : Kabalysa Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3156 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
52
Rating: You name it, weīve got it - at some point in the story - as
long as you donīt name children or animals. (Werewolves not considered animals)
Kids? Scram! Donīt like kinky, "perverted" sex? Donīt read. - In
short: NC-17! Consider yourself warned.
Disclaimer: All Hail JKR! Everything recognizable belongs to her. The
story though, belongs to us.
Posting of this story will go on for a year, (April 2005 - April 2006)
and be - to our knowledge - the first (kind of) realtime FF written. Posting
will be at least once a week. It is a birthday present for a beautiful (and
kinky) young woman, Matilde, who only deserves the best. Weīll try to give her
exactly that. Happy Birthday, Matilde!
__________________________________________________________________________
Third Week - April 23th. - May 1st. - Blood Heat.
By Lysa
Dear Minerva.
I am tired.
I am tired of the Mark that scars my arm and feeds me an ever present dull
pain, reminding me of what I have done. The things that are untold, things that
only exist in my memory now. And since I do not intend to share them with you -
or anyone else, for that matter, they stay there, forever tormenting me.
I wish I had the courage to remove them, those unpleasant memories, put them
away, never to look at them again. But I have not earned that right. I have not
yet paid for the unspeakable deeds.
But still; I am tired beyond belief. I miss Lucius. I hate myself for
admitting that, but I do. I am tired of not having anyone, who cares enough
about me to come to my bed.
I am tired because the intolerable little twit of an Auror, the little pink
fairy, the puerile pink pest, has kept me awake all night, shagging Charlie
Weasley - or he was shagging her - not that I care. What I care about though, is
that they should have learned to use a Silencing Charm! How hard can that be? It
is common knowledge for a first year! Not to use it to silence...loud-sounding
shagging - but to cast the sodding charm. How hard can that be, I ask again? To
rise your wand and mutter the four-syllable word Si-len-ci-o?
I knew the birdbrained twit probably would forget it - she has formerly
showed rather a lack of ability, when it comes to potions. You remember the
shrinking accident? I must admit; I almost smiled then.
It seems like she has kept and re-sewn the clothes from that particular mess
up. I have rarely seen anything like her clothes. Why canīt she wear robes,
like a normal witch? Why must she wear such small t-shirts? And that
Muggle trousers, jeans, they are called. Do they have to cling to her body like
a second skin?
Did you know she carries some kind of jewel in her navel? And that her Muggle
clothes are so small in size - hence the shrinking potion comparison - that
oneīs able to actually see her navel between the hem of her extra small shirts
and the top of her jeans? Very disturbing, Iīd say. Wish she would dress
properly.
Is it some kind of Muggle anomali, she has adopted, or is it normal? I
certainly hope not, since it would further lower my regard for said Muggles.
Why is it her, who has somebody comforting her, laying with her in bed, his
arms around her? What has she done, except being a menace, first at school, then
in the Order. And now my personal, clumsy, annoying, irritating, stupid,
immature menace.
Why am I pouring all this annoyance into a letter adressed to you? We are
close, yes. But not that close. I know. But right now, I donīt even have a
normal, partly intelligent person to talk to. It is Weasley or Nymphadora. I am
going for another choise, even though remote. You. Else I will go mad as a
hatter in a week.
I suppose you will forgive me this slip in my otherwise guarded personality.
But I do not intend to let the Pest drive me insane. I suppose the Dark Lord are
working hard to accomplish that task.
Besides from that, Iīve have had a strange and quite worrying experience
this week. As you might know, Transsylvania is famous for itīs vampire
population. The native muggles have rather peculiar practises; They use
different things to repel the vampires; garlic, crosses (some Muggle religious
thing, as I understand it. Why it should bother a vampire, I have no idea. The
garlic I understand better. It really reeks foul! ) I talked Charlie Weasley
into going to a small Muggle village with me. I know, Minerva, that it
was a risk, but since Mr. Weasley in fact has learned from his Muggle loving
father, he is able to blend in rather well with the Muggles.
I needed to go, since I have gotten the idea, that I wanted to have an
interview with a vampire before we leave. Not because I am interested in their
lifestyle. To me they could be rock singers or nannys. I couldnīt care less.
But I needed a blood sample. And I needed to know how and when they change.
I have gotten this idea. A rather clever idea. If the vampires here are able
to shift from bats to bodies at will, there might be something in the blood,
that enables them to do so. And if one - that is me, no other Potions Master in
the wizarding world could probably do it, nor would they have the talent - could
extract that from the blood, I might be able to improve Lupinīs medication. So
Wolfsbane might make it possible for him to stay in human form through full
moon. Itīs a small hope, I know that, but I have to try.
I have not informed my unwanted sidekick of my plans, but I do intend
to use this total waste of time on something constructive. So Wolfsbane it is.
And I will pursue other tasks.
As I am probably stuck with Nymphadora - I donīt know why I bothered to
allow her to use my given name. Probably because I knew I could annoy the Hell
out of her using hers. Somehow I understand why. The name in itself is an
insult. Nymphadoooora. Disgusting. Ridiculous.
Where was I ?
Yes: I am probably stuck with her until the Dark Lord is either dead or weīve
found a way to break the bond between the Mark and
He-Whoīs-Made-My-Life-Worse-Than-Hell. And I am going to pursue the means to do
one or both of those things. To rid the world of the Dark Lord and make any mark
he has ever given me outdated, obsolete, meaningless.
And I am going to do it myself, since the emptyheaded chicken, whoīs
supposed to be my bodyguard, probably will have nothing to add to the
development of my self-appointed task
My plans gives me something to do, something to take my mind of the throbbing
pain in my arm, the unquenchable need to find the Dark Lord. Here are so many
interesting ingredients to find, if oneīs just a little inventive. It was
important to me to get my hands on vampire - and if possibly also werewolf
blood, it really could be an interesting challenge. Iīll try for the werewolf
blood before we leave. I hope we can stay until next full moon. Only I donīt
want to listen to the loud lovers at night, if we stay. Do you have any
idea how to break it to them gently?
No. Donīt bother. I am writing this late sunday night, and they are at it as
rabbits again. They might have gotten the impression that I am asleep. Why that
particular belief would make them think they are allowed to moan and scream like
that, is beyond my imagination. I suppose that they are the lack of a strict
upbringing. The Pink Plague is part Muggle. That could explain something.
Anyhow; I am going to hex them right away.
Just a moment. Iīll be right back.
Later. Much later. I had to drink a solid part of a bottle of Ogdenīs. What
a sight, Minerva...Merlin, I think I might have paid for my sins now. Charlie
Waesley and The Nymphadora Pest making out. Just imagine the colours. Carrot
Orange and Bubblegum Pink are not a nice constellation.
And shameless. They are both shameless! But at least they agreed to using the
Silencing Charm. I still wonder, though, how the woman is able to pour herself
into the tight fitting clothes she wears. There is a lot more Nymphadora now,
than when she shrinked all her clothing in Potions Class in her seventh year.
A lot more.
Sorry about that. I think it is the fact that I have lost what little I had
in my life; My position, my (rather haughty and notorious) lover, my freedom -
that makes my a bit grumpy. Yes, Minerva. I admit it. I am grumpy. Who
wouldnīt be under the circumstances?
But I have almost forgotten to tell you about the vampires. It was
an...interesting experience. Really.
Mr. Weasley had as promised made arrangements to meet with a villager, a
Muggle, who had some experience in communications with vampires. As I mentioned
before, I have never met a vampire, and was most determined to have blood and
tissue samples from several specimens.
No, I havenīt met one before, even though some of my students think that I
have at least met the one, who contaminated me and made me a vampire. I
know the rumours about the Bat of the Dungeons, I know the little brats call me
that. Rumour is; Severus Snape is a vampire. Have the halfwitted morons ever
considered that I am able to leave the classroom in broad daylight? Some of the
students are so stupid, that it would probably be more contageous to be bitten
by one of them instead of a nice, educated, highly cultured vampire.
And they are. Cultured. I suppose that comes with the extended lifelength.
They are very strange, vampires, but cultured, refined. Very unreliable. They
would suck you dry in a heartbeat. Yours, not theirs. But some of them are
more...civil, acting like spokespersons. Some vampires are obviously trying to
maintain friendly - or rather non-threatening - relations to the world of
humans.
It was one of those vampires; Rebecca Sanguina, a daughter of the infamous
Lady Carmilla, who had agreed to meet with us. Or me. She had agreed to see me,
using a secure room at the local inn, a separate chamber, that allowed the
friendlier vampires to meet with business relations and the like.
She was untamed. It is the best word I can use. She was savage and civilised
both. A very odd combination. Pale and thin with long, black hair. And her eyes.
Red, as dark red, blood red they could possibly be without being black. Dressed
in a victorian dress, tight fitting, beautifully made, she was the archetypical
vampire.
I should have known better, but I was outsmarted. I should have known better,
been able to shield. She was definitely a Legilimens. Not the wizarding type,
but less - and much more. I should have known the moment I laid my eyes on her.
And I name myself a Occlumens...
I think this is why humans are lured to be willing preys to her and her
likes.
We had agreed that she would not attack me, nor try to feed on me without my
consent. She had agreed to give a small sample of blood, even to bring samples
from two of her sisters. All she wanted was a small sample of my blood.
She found it interesting, since sheīd never - to her knowledge - tasted a
wizard.
But it went all wrong. As she had given me the small vials containing the
blood of her sisters, and allowed me to cut a tiny piece of her cold flesh, it
was her turn to get paid. And it was my blood, which was the monetary standard.
Oh, fuck it. I have already told you too much, you can as well get the rest
of it. I think it takes a lot to shock you, behind that scottish spinster
facade, a cool and brave woman is hidden. I know you, Minerva.
Well. Here it comes. She fucked me. I am not writing `made loveī, because it
wasnīt what she was doing. She took me. And I consented. I forgot to shield,
and when she - as weīve agreed - would take my blood, using a knife and vial, I
looked in her eyes. She never said anything, but the images of lust, desire,
ecstacy she poured into my mind was too hard to resist.
First she asked me, if I would consent to her biting me, drinking my blood
directly from the source. It was if Iīd been put under an Imperius Curse, I had
no free will, her eyes, hot red, looked into mine. And she promised me things
only with her eyes. She promised me it wouldnīt hurt. She promised me that the
sharp sting from her bite would only add to the heightened state her embrace
would bring.
I donīt have to write once more, that I agreed willingly.
When she took me in her arms and unbuttoned my collar, I felt happy. I canīt
remember ever having been so happy. Her hands brought calmness, teased my soft
spots, even if she didnīt touch me anywhere except the necessary places, when
one wants to unbutton a collar. And then I consented to her taking me. Fully.
And I was happy to do so. I felt delirious that she wanted to, that I was so
delicious to her, that she wanted to devour me.
I canīt remember much from the moment she put her pointy teeth through my
skin. I only remember rapture, flowing on a flood of lust. As if the contact
between her small fangs and my blood created a tension field which covered my
entire body, and especially a certain bodypart. I think I had a release without
her even touching me. Wrong. I know I had release without her touching
my...you know...
Later on I had another with her definitely touching me. It was when she
did...what I wrote before.
It was very embarrasing, but I suppose I must be grateful, even it I canīt for
the life of me comprehend how I am going to get through the utter contempt I
feel for that woman. I hate her little pink mouth. Her pink hairdo. Her pink
shirt. And especially I hate that she was suspicious enough not to let the
vampire be alone with me longer than it was.
Minerva! The vampire was taking advantage of me in a very carnal way, when Nymphadooooora
decided to walk in on us, worried over the...sounds. I am not sure how I am
going to overcome the shame. At least me walking in on them tonight, have
helped somewhat. But she still have the upper hand.
Can one die of embarrasment?
At least I got the samples. Now I am waiting on some occation to get samples
from werewolves as well. Maybe the Pink Pest has some ideas. She has been close
to rabid Remus, hasnīt she?
Severus.
PS: Tell Miss Granger not to spoil my students. I do not want to come back
and discover that the little buggers are not respectful to their Professor!
PPS: What did the doggy do at full moon? Did he get the Wolfsbane from Miss G?
Sheīs probably the only witch who can brew it properly. Make her do it.
______________________________________________________________________
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