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Bonded in Blood	By : AikawaAkihiko Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 37017 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND MAKE NO PROFIT FROM THIS STORY

Chapter List
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Beta reader: Much thanks to Iriya!

Chapter 3- Healing Wounds

Snape glared down at the prone body on the bed as he reseated himself in the uncomfortable bedside chair. He could kick himself. By the time he had realised there was someone else in the infirmary, he had already made a scene and the damage was done. Fortunately, he was pretty sure he put a stopper on Draco’s notoriously big mouth with his little bedside chat, though; he doubted he would have said anything in this instance. Though there was little he could do about it, it had not gone unnoticed by his Head of House how isolated the young Malfoy had become.

It was a good thing too. He would hate to have to follow through with those “consequences” he had threatened with. He was Potter’s Sire; it was now his duty to protect his Childe with his life, and if that meant eliminating a threat to their secret, even if it was a student in his own House, he would do it.

The bond created by turning someone was one of the strongest that could be forged without magic. He could already feel the boy’s blood rush through him. The pull to fold his battered body into his arms was already becoming overwhelming, but he settled with gently washing away the dried blood from the boy’s skin.

He had never been a Sire before; never turned another like this. The only time he had belonged to a coven was still a teenager, with his own Sire. He had been a fellow Death Eater. They had received their marks at the same time and had often worked together on potions for their Master. He was later killed by the Dark Lord. Since then, Snape had lived his life feeling empty, suffering from the lack of his Sire or any coven for decades.

Vampires were not meant to be solitary. It was the nature of the beast, so to say; one vampire must turn and bond with another, otherwise there would be no more vampires. It was the only way to create one as vampirism was not hereditary.

He was already feeling whole with his Childe’s blood within him. It was a feeling he had almost forgotten. Despite Dumbledore’s acceptance of him to their cause, the old man would not allow him to form a coven. The Light was just like everyone else, full of uneducated prejudice against magical beings in general and vampires specifically.

Snape looked down at his Childe and grimaced. He would bond himself for eternity to Harry Potter, of all people. He knew it would be a trial. The boy was the most aggravating child he had ever come across in his many years of teaching and, as his protector, he could not ignore that fact that he had a penchant for getting into life endangering situations every year like it was bloody his job! He could not regret this turn of events, however. It felt good to have someone to take care of, someone to be close to, even if it was Potter.

Perhaps it would not be so bad. They had come to a small unspoken agreement in the beginning of the year. After Potter had witnessed the attack by Nagini, Snape, thinking he was dying, gave up his most precious memories of the love of his life and revealing the depth of his loyalties to the boy. Potter, however, saved his life by quickly getting help, and Snape’s ire had lessened… somewhat.

With a nod in his direction on the night of the Welcome Feast, Potter recognised the lengths his hated professor had gone to assist him with his quest to destroy Horcruxes, as well as the innumerable times throughout his time at Hogwarts that the man saved his life. With a return nod, the Potions professor acknowledged the fact that Potter had literally sacrificed his life to rid the world of Lord Voldemort and then stood up and proceeded to kill the damned monster once and for all, thereby giving more to the cause than even Snape could claim.

That did not mean they got along by any means. It was just fuelled by mutual dislike instead of outright hate. The Potions professor still handed the boy detentions like they were candy, and the Potter boy still glared resentfully at his least favourite teacher.

Snape wondered if one day they could grow to tolerate each other. Sharing a bond did not compel them to love or even like each other. They would always be close, need to be with each other, feel each other near, but perhaps they would learn to appreciate each other on a more personal level.

He knew he would not have too much trouble with the boy. The Sire/Childe relationship was of a dominant/ submissive nature. Just as Snape felt compelled to protect and provide, Potter would instinctually yield to his Sire, in order for him to be best safeguarded. Potter would still be the irritating and headstrong boy he had always been, but he would surrender if Snape wished it so. He hoped so. He really did not want to be miserable for the rest of his life, especially when his life had only just become bearable again.

He wiped the last bit of dried blood from the boy’s delicate body. He frowned. The boy was much too small. Thinking back, he realised that the boy had always been smaller than his year mates. Though, he appeared to be filling out now, there were obvious signs of long term malnutrition. How could this be? he wondered as he got up in search for a jar of healing paste. He knew for a fact that Dumbledore always sent a large stipend to his muggle relatives to take care of the boy.

He dug through the well-stocked potions cabinet, searching for the healing balm. He grabbed the small yellow jar of Murtlap Essence. It was a mild enough solution that it would not interact too much with the magic already used to heal his more life threatening injuries.

He returned to the bedside and uncapped the jar. He spread it over the multiple cuts, gashes, and rips in the skin. It would not heal the deeper abrasions, but it would make sure they would not get infected while they waited for his magical core to restore.

Finally, when he was done, he banished away the cloths he used to clean the boy and the bloodied sheets he lay on. Still naked, Snape charmed the light sheets with a Warming spell and tucked Potter in.

The first weak rays of the morning sun began to peak through the large stained glass windows and Snape really wished he had been able to have an extra cup of his coffee last night. Tiredly, he got up from his post, despite the pull to stay by his Childe’s bedside, and made his way out of the infirmary. The boy would not wake for some time and Madam Pomfrey would be waking and making rounds soon. He had time to go visit the Headmistress.

He made his way to the Headmaster’s tower. The gargoyle jumped out of his way to reveal the revolving staircase. Headmistress McGonagall did not see the use of making people give a password to the gargoyle to gain access to her office. Dumbledore’s game of using predictable (if not widely known) passwords just to be able to knock at his door and see if he was in, was deemed dangerous by the new Headmistress. If someone needed her, it would be detrimental to have to stand at the gargoyle, guessing what that password would be.

Snape knew how much fun Dumbledore had had in making up new passwords, and it was not without a bit of nostalgia that he ascended the stone steps. He sneered at himself for being a sentimental ninny.

After knocking, the door swung open to reveal a tired and dishevelled McGonagall at work at her desk.

“Morning, Severus,” she greeted wearily.

“Good morning, Minerva. Do you have time to discuss the Potter situation?” Snape asked, sitting gracefully and crossing his long legs in the comfortable brown leather chairs that had replaced Dumbledore’s old squashy ones. He gratefully accepted the invigorating cup of tea and shortbread the Headmistress summoned to her desk.

After taking her own fortifying gulp of the hot tea, she sighed and pursed her thin lips, setting down her cup with a light clink. She interlocked her fingers in front of her, in the way she did when she meant business.

“Yes, the Potter situation. I’m afraid that when I assumed the Headmaster position, I neglected to look into the information Dumbledore gathered on vampirism. There was the task of repairing the damage done to the castle and getting the school ready for the upcoming school year to occupy my time, and I presumed it wouldn’t be an issue. I figured that if Dumbledore trusted you, then your condition wasn’t relevant.” She gave him a friendly smile.

Snape barely held in a sneer. She spoke as if she could not trust him on his own merits, and his “condition” as she called it, was some kind of sickness. Still, he was used to such treatment and she clearly did not mean it to offend, as so many did, so he maintained his stoic mask and let her continue.

“I’m afraid I don’t know exactly what has occurred or if there is anything we need to do for Mr. Potter.”

Snape braced his elbows on the chair’s armrests and folded his hands in his lap. “Suffice it to say that in the act of turning Potter, I have forged a bond with him. It is a bond akin to the more common magically bonded marriage, because we have exchanged blood. It cannot be dissolved and has similar features to a magically bound marriage, such as need for physical closeness.”

McGonagall looked startled. “Oh my. I did not know it was so deep as that,” she admitted incredulously.

“Indeed,” Snape allowed. “As for the various allowances needed for Potter, he will be living with me from now on. The house elves will be needed to be notified of his change in diet, something I am willing to do for you. As for the rest, I will be there to teach him our ways and inform him of the changes to his body and instincts.”

“Changes to his body?” McGonagall inquired. “I thought he would just grow sharp teeth. And what do you mean changes to his diet? Will he be dangerous?”

This time Snape could not keep the sneer form his face, even if he wanted to. “No he will not be dangerous! We are not the mythic monsters most purport us to be!” he snarled.

“I apologise, Severus. I did not mean to offend,” Professor McGonagall said, looking chastised, but quickly returned to the conversation at hand. “Now, just what changes are you talking about?”

Snape huffed, getting his anger back under control. “The mixing of our blood will transform his entire body. It will become healthier, fitter. His senses will become enhanced and become near super human. His magic will increase. Of course, he will also develop his blood teeth, as well, and be able to drink blood, which he will crave.”

McGonagall looked distinctly ill at this. “And you have ways of curbing these craving I take it?” she asked. She was careful not to offend the temperamental man, but was still concerned about her student’s welfare, living with vampires.

“Of course,” he gave her an impatient look. “There are many potions to help, most of which are of my own development, as well as including more meats among other things.” He was not going to divulge every aspect to the woman. She already looked distressed as it was. The rest he would discuss with Potter when the time came.

Minerva sighed deeply, as if the world were on her shoulders. She had hoped this would not ruin Harry’s life, but it did not look so good to her. The boy had been through so much and was finally able to lead a relatively normal life, with the destruction of Voldemort. She would do anything to help one of her favourite lions out. “Is there anything I can do? Anything you need from me?”

Snape gave a curt nod. “Indeed. The transformation occurs in three stages. The first is the Period of Healing. He is in that stage now, where the blood he ingested circulates in his body and prepares it for the next stage; the Period of Transformation. This stage is when he changes physically. It is a painful process that occurs over several days, for him particularly, as it appears he is not in great health to begin with. The last is the Period of Bonding, in which we develop and strengthen the bond between us. I estimate that the entire process will take around two weeks, the whole of which I will need to be there with him.”

“I will take over your classes for you,” the Headmistress offered.

“Thank you, Headmistress. I have lesson plans for the term in the desk in my office.”

“What would you like me to tell everyone?” McGonagall asked.

Snape rubbed a finger over his pursed lips in thought. “As it will not be only me that will be absent, we will need to come up with an excuse for Potter as well, and it will not go unnoticed that he will be living with me in my quarters. I suggest we stick to the truth as close as possible. Let us say that Potter and I have married and are on our honeymoon,” he could not help but roll his eyes at this saccharine ritual, “for the duration of our absence.”

“Yes, that would appear to be the best explanation,” McGonagall agreed. “Though, I don’t see how Mr. Potter’s friends will ever believe he went into it willingly.”

“Then perhaps we shall say that it was forced upon him. We shall say that I called in a life debt and demanded we marry,” Snape suggested.

McGonagall nodded. “That sounds plausible.”

Snape sat up quickly as an idea struck him. “What of his attackers? We cannot let them know that he is alive. If they are still within the school and know that he still lives and can inform us of their identities, they may escape, or worse, attempt to harm others.”

The Headmistress looked distressed, smoothing her hands back over her greying black hair, tightly tied back into a low bun. “You are right, Severus. We will need to keep this quiet. For now we will simply say that you are away for personal reasons and simply stay quiet about Mr. Potter.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Heaven help me when I have to answer to Mr. Weasley. The boy will probably drive me mad by the end of the fortnight!”

Snape sympathised. Sometimes it took all of his restraint not to slap the thick-headed, slack-jawed Neanderthal that was the youngest Weasley boy.

His entwined fingers grew white as his grip tightened. The urge to be with his Childe was growing, knowing someone wanted him dead. Finally having enough, he rose from his seat. “If you have no further inquiries, I believe I will return to the infirmary, Headmistress.”

“Oh, yes, Severus. Please do, the poor boy,” she waved him away wearily.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Harry sighed as he came back to consciousness and hummed in contentment as strong fingers combed through his hair. He leaned into the warmth that he was lying on. He could feel a muscular thigh pillowing his head and the movement of the firm belly that he pressed his face into, moving in and out with each breath.

The hand strayed from his hair down to rest on his chest, the pleasant feeling pushing away distant remembrances of pain and helplessness to the back of mind. He opened his eyes to see whose wonderful hands were bringing him such comfort.

There was nothingness.

His breath hitched and he lifted his hands to his face, attempting to get whatever was blocking his sight, off. There was nothing there except smooth and tender healing scars. Oh God!

He let out a distressed sound and his heart nearly exploded as it raced in fear. He could not hear his own voice properly. It sounded as if he were deep underwater. His voice sounded distant and he could hear nothing else at all.

He tried to sit up but the strong hands that had comforted him, held him down. His efforts had done enough, however, and a deep throbbing pain ripped through his entire body. He cried out in pain and fear, tears burning his eyes and running down his cheeks.

Those hands wrapped around his chest and pulled him up onto the lap which had cradled his head only moments before, tucking him into a strong chest and pushing his face into a warm neck. With one hand holding him tight and rubbing his back, the other was braced at the nape of his neck. It tilted his chin, bearing his neck. A hot, wet tongue swiped across his jugular. The spot was tender, but the tongue felt really good. He instantly calmed, something deep inside him telling him that this person would never hurt him and he would be safe, even as vulnerable and scared as he was.

His panic gone, he rested. Draped over this person and completely at ease, he started to be able to think clearly. He could not hear or see. He assumed he could still talk, as he had been able to yell out, so at least he would not be completely without a way to communicate. Their chests were pressed together and he was held tightly by those strong hands, so he could tell that this was a man. He sniffed back his tears. The man smelled of herbs and earth, with a hint of the distinctly foul smell that clung to the Potions classroom after his cauldron exploded.

He stiffened. No way!

Harry raised himself from the man’s chest and felt his way up the man’s neck. He ran his fingers over the man’s face. He had an angled jawline and thin lips. His nose was bent and somewhat crooked and his brow was furrowed. Moving to the top of his head, Harry ran his fingers through long, and surprisingly soft hair. There was no doubt about it.

“Professor Snape?” he whispered.

The man put his hand over Harry’s, directed it back down to his cheek, and nodded.

Tears began to gather in his eyes again. “I’m blind!” he announced, his throat aching in his effort to keep himself from sobbing. He felt Snape nod again.

Tears spilled over his cheeks and he drew a ragged breath. “Forever?” he asked with a scared whisper.

He felt Snape shake his head.

“How long?” realising he wouldn’t be able to get an answer to that, he added, “ A day?”

Snape shook his head.

“A week?”

Snape nodded and he then sobbed in relief.

“What’s going on?” Harry cried, not really expecting an answer. There was no way his professor could explain it to him.

Snape let out a sigh. He had hoped Potter would wake up before his transformation started. He could only imagine how scared the boy must be, waking up to find he was blind and deaf. After Poppy had come around and finished casting her healing spells this morning, aided by the boy’s new healing ability, he was well enough to be moved, and he had rushed to get his Childe back to the safety of his personal quarters.

If only he had had a chance to explain to the boy, and it was only going to get worse. The delicate organs that enable the senses of sight and hearing were changing first, as it usually took longer to strengthen and fine tune the intricate structures. His sense of smell would go next. Then the pain would begin. It would be extra hard on the boy, due to his existing injuries and the malnutrition.

Suddenly, the boy froze, his body trembling in his embrace.

“Oh, God,” he intoned. “Oh, God!”

Snape’s heart raced. Was his Childe already in pain?

“Snape!” Potter screamed much too loud next to his ear, unable to judge the volume of his voice. “Snape, Nott, he… Oh, God! It hurt so much!”

Snape drew him back from his chest and placed his hand on his cheek, letting the boy know he was listening.

“Nott. It was Nott! He…” the boy whimpered, unable to put into words what had happened to him. Snape nodded into his hand, letting him know that he understood.

Snape knew that the elder Nott had been Kissed just this summer, and that only left his son Theodore. He closed his eyes in anguish. He had hoped all the students involved with the Death Eaters had been weeded out, and it never got any easier to see his snakes fall to the dark side.

His protective instincts kicked in, however. He licked at Potter’s bite mark, again. It calmed the boy back down and reinforced the feeling of protection. So Nott was the one who thought he could hurt his Childe. As soon as he was able to, he would make sure the boy understood just how badly he had screwed up. He could not let the boy live if he was threat to his Childe’s life.

He cursed the fact that he could not go out and tear him apart right now. It would be so easy to rend his arms from his body and leave the sniveling boy in the middle of the Great Hall to drown in a pool of his own blood. That was not an option, however. He would never risk it. It would mean Azkaban if was caught, and that meant leaving his Childe. He could never risk it, especially in the condition he was in. They would both suffer without the other there to fill the gaping voids within.

Then there was the rather less important fact that if he did that, he would lose his job. People generally did not take too kindly to vampires on murderous rampages. Not that he would particularly care anymore. He had no reason to stay, now that the war was over. He would not mourn being rid of snot-nosed brats who blundered their way through the fine art of potions making.

No, it now became his duty to remain in good standing at Hogwarts. As the boy’s Sire, he had to be able to keep Potter safe and comfortable. That meant that he had to stay within the school wards. It also meant that he would have to play nice with his fellow teachers and the Headmistress in order to maintain favourable relationships. Relationships, he could use, power he could hold over them to gain get what he wanted and needed for his Childe.

He licked more at the boy’s bite mark, enjoying the salty taste of his soft skin. Potter slumped in his lap, resting his head against his shoulder. The boy’s energy was still not restored to normal, his body not completely healed yet, and he fell back into a healing sleep.

Snape sat on his couch with his Childe in his arms. The boy was now the most precious person in his life, his existence was now only for Harry Potter. Unconsciously, he stroked up and down his small, bony back, and he began to form a plan of revenge.
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Bonded in Blood