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Proof of Life	By : emilywaters Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 65994 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related. It all belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros., and any other entities involved. I make no money from writing fanfiction.

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Homemade Spells

Once Snape was asleep again, Harry remained awake for a while longer before he too drifted off, only to be shaken awake a short while later by the Auror whom Harry had heard arguing with Edgecombe earlier.

�Mr. Potter,� the Auror said, �you have a firecall coming in.�

�I do?� Harry mumbled, getting up. He was drained beyond what words could express, and for the life of him, he could not understand who would be calling him at St. Mungo's.

�You do,� the Auror confirmed. �It's someone from the Department of Protection of Magical Creatures.�

Harry blinked and reached for his glasses resting on the edge of the bed. �At bloody three in the morning?�

The Auror shrugged apologetically and led the way to the guest lounge, where in the flames of the Floo hovered the face of Hermione Weasley.

�Hi,� Harry said.

The Auror stepped out of the lounge to give him some privacy.

�Harry!� she whispered furiously. �How's Snape?�

�How did you know...,� Harry started asking and then smiled. �Ron told you?�

�Yes. How's he doing?�

�He's stable, but... he's been hurt.�

�Can I come over?�

�Yes, please,� Harry muttered, and a moment later Hermione emerged from the Floo.

She threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. �Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry,� she said softly. �You didn't go back to the office today, did you?�

�No,� Harry said. �I probably should have, but I just stayed here. I didn't want to leave him alone.�

�Probably good that you didn't leave him alone, The Ministry of Magic are like vultures. I think if you hadn't been around they might have just... made him disappear, you know?� Hermione spoke in a rushed and slightly disorganized manner, as was her habit when she was too tired and too nervous. �I don't really have any evidence of that, just a gut feeling. Ron went back to the office and it was really horrible. Their minds are made up already about him being guilty. So Ron firecalled me and I ditched work, and then Ron and I went to see Percy, to ask him for help, and Percy was bragging to Diggory about the Death Eater being captured, and all ready for Azkaban... and I think Percy kind of forgot we were there.... until Ron coughed and said, excuse me, but I think Harry believes Snape's innocent, and then there was this horrible awkward silence, like Ron had farted or something. Then Diggory laughed, Harry, he laughed, like it was all some big joke...� Hermione said in a rush, before sniffling miserably and burying her face in Harry's shoulder.

�Bloody hell,� Harry muttered tiredly. �Hermione, I have no idea what to do now.�

�Nor do I,� she admitted. �Tell me, what happened to him?�

�Not a word to anyone though, all right?�

�I promise,� she said quickly.

�I mean it, Hermione,� he said sternly. �Not Ron, not your mum, not Luna, and not Mrs Weasley, all right?�

�All right, all right, I promise!� Hermione snapped. �What is it?�

�He was tortured, probably the entire time he was missing,� Harry said quietly. �And... some other stuff, too.�

�He was raped!� Hermione's whisper came out more like a muted scream.

�Shhhh,� Harry hissed at her. �No need to shout about it for all of London to hear.�

�Sorry,� she promptly apologized, �has he woken yet?�

�Briefly,� Harry said. �He recognized me, called my name, and ... he's been.. reaching out to me. Holding on to me.�

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. �Really? That's rather odd. I mean� you two have never been on good terms, no offense, and he doesn't seem like someone who would... look for physical reassurances... and, to be honest, if... well, from the sound of it, he should be shying away from all human contact. Remember when I had that PTSD half a year after the war was over? I didn't let even Ron touch me for three months.� Harry nodded mutely. He remembered of course. �You know, this is all very strange,� Hermione continued. �What I want to know is how he survived Nagini's bite in the first place. The loss of blood... I mean, Harry, you remember!�

�I remember,� Harry agreed tiredly. He loved his friend deeply, but Hermione's disorganized, nervous talking was beginning to wear him out even more. �Maybe it was the spell, after all,� he murmured, more to himself than to Hermione.

She grabbed his hand. �What spell?� she asked very calmly, but her fingers were digging into his flesh rather sharply.

�Oh... Well, just before we left him, I'd cast a spell on him,� Harry explained.

�What kind of spell?�

�In Sanguine Tuo Vive,� Harry said.

�Never heard of it,� Hermione said. �What does it do?�

Harry sighed in embarrassment. �That's the problem. I don't exactly know.�

�You don't exactly know,� she repeated. �Where did you learn it?�

�You are going to love this,� Harry muttered. �Half-Blood Prince's book.�

If looks could kill Hermione's would have flatlined him.

�Let me get this straight,� she said icily, �you've cast yet another spell you knew nothing about from that damned book?�

�I did,� Harry admitted. �Come on, Hermione, give me a break! I was seventeen. I didn't know any powerful healing spells. Snape was bleeding out in front of me. I still wasn't sure one hundred percent that, you know, he was one of us. I was in a bit of a hurry too, with Voldemort demanding my death and all. The spell... well, I didn't know what it meant, but from the sound of it, I thought it could save someone from bleeding to death. It did say, 'in your blood, live', didn't it? So I cast the damned spell. I honestly didn't think we had much to lose, all right?�

Her expression softened a little and she nodded to him. �All right, Harry,� she said, �I suppose you have a point, and from the looks of it the spell worked. Now, where's the book?�

�Back at Spinner's End. It's in his bedroom, on the bedside table.�

�All right,� Hermione murmured. �I'm going to go and read through it, and then, I'm going to analyze that spell to see if I can figure it out. Maybe it'll help with his recovery.�

�All right,� Harry said agreeably. �Don't spend too much time on that spell though. We still need to figure out how to keep him out of Azkaban and clear his name.�

�We'll work on that first thing tomorrow,� Hermione said firmly. �Maybe McGonagall will help... �

�Maybe,� Harry agreed tiredly.

After seeing Hermione off, he walked back to the ward and stretched himself out on the bed next to Snape. Snape was sleeping, appearing to be completely unaware of what was going on. Harry found himself drifting off to sleep when he felt Snape's hand reaching out for his. He held on to it, even as the oblivion claimed him. Throughout the night he was vaguely aware of Marietta coming in, checking on Snape, and quickly tossing a blanket over him and sliding a hospital pillow under his head. Half asleep, Harry smiled wearily, but had neither the strength nor the presence of mind to thank her.

~ * ~

Hermione woke him three hours later by ungently poking him in his side, and whispering angrily, �Come with me, right now.� Harry got up and followed her, even as his stomach clenched in anticipation of bad news.

�All right, what is it?� Harry asked once they made it into the guest lounge and sat down

�Well, good news and bad news,� she said, sitting down next to him. �The spell you cast on him was designed to have a double effect.�

�Go on,� Harry said cautiously, bracing himself for the bad news, which he was sure would come first.

�The spell, I think, was designed to be used against an enemy in wartime,� Hermione said and paused significantly.

Harry bit his lip, but continued to listen without interrupting.

�As you had guessed correctly, it was indeed designed to save someone from death through blood loss, however at the cost of enslaving them.�

�Huh?� Harry stared at her, trying to figure out if she was pulling his leg, but the look on her face was as far from flippant as it could be. �There are spells for that?�

�Not many, but yes, there are. This was one of them. You see,� she said softly, �it was actually designed as a follow-up to the Sectumsempra spell....and finally, it all makes sense to me. See, I could never figure out why someone like Snape would invent something like Sectumsempra. It's not like he didn't know enough deadly spells already, so why would he invent another one, something that would cause the enemy's death, but not instantly? Just so he could stand over the dying enemy for a few minutes and gloat? Didn't seem very practical, you know?�

Maybe it wasn't especially practical, but Harry wouldn't put it past Snape to do something of the sort. However, met with Hermine's accusing gaze, Harry decided that now wasn't the most opportune time to say that.

�As I understand it, the Sectumsempra spell was designed to injure the enemy gravely and force his surrender. Then, the other spell, In Sanguine Tuo Vive, could save the enemy's life, at the cost of establishing a slave-bond, provided that the enemy submitted himself willingly to the victor.�

�You are kidding me,� Harry muttered, and she glared at him briefly. �You aren't kidding. Hermione! How did you figure it out?�

�Well, it was just a hunch at first, as the entire section of the book where those spells were found all had to do with poisons and antidotes... so it made sense to me that the two spells would act in a similar manner, of sorts. Then, I did the brief review of magical linguistics and analyzed the...�

�Never mind,� Harry interrupted. �I believe you. Actually, this explains a lot.�

�Yes, it does,� she said tiredly. �Like why he's reaching out to you, like you are the most important person in the world to him. And ... well, why all his property was magically transferred to you at that time. He never named you as an heir, Harry. This was just an effect of the enslavement spell.�

�His medical chart, too,� Harry added, as an afterthought. �It opened to me, like I was entitled to see it. Marietta had a fit.�

�Marietta Edgecombe is the attending healer?� Hermione shuddered. �I'd better clear out of here, before she comes in and sees me.�

�Never mind her now,� Harry snapped. �So, how serious is this? I mean, since slavery doesn't exist anymore, it doesn't really matter, does it?�

Hermione gave no answer. She didn't look away, but didn't quite meet Harry's eyes either.

�Hermione!� Harry snapped. �This just can't be! Here? Now?�

Hermione's lips twitched into a sad smile. �Harry, remember, we aren't in London anymore, and haven't been in a while.�

�What's that supposed to mean?� Harry asked defensively, not liking where this conversation was headed.

�What I mean, Harry, is that we live in a different world, and this location just happens to intersect with Muggle London.�

�And your point is?�

�My point is that we live in a world where people still use quills and parchments, where criminals can be punished by being reduced to soulless shells, where many sentient creatures are being exploited and treated as commodities, where a fourteen year old boy can be compelled to compete in a contest that requires him to evade dragons, and so on. Maybe it's time you realized that,� Hermione said patiently.

She made sense, Harry had to admit. Even fourteen years after entering the Wizarding World, he still managed to be surprised by discovering something that seemed inhumane and medieval.

�Now she tells me,� Harry joked half-heartedly.

Hermione did not smile this time. �I've been telling you for years,� she said softly. �But you were too busy laughing about SPEW to pay any attention.�

Harry fell silent for a few minutes, trying to ignore the not-too-subtle note of accusation in her voice.

�So... he's enslaved like a house elf?� Harry clarified, his thoughts returning to Snape's predicament.

�Not quite,� Hermione said reluctantly. �House-elves have some rights these days, and they do have some personal power in their dealings with wizards. Snape's situation is quite different. The spell modified his legal status to a far greater extent. He is property, more like an owl, or a cat, I think, as far as legalities are concerned.� Hermione delivered the statement with palpable distaste.

�All right,� Harry said, resolving not to panic. �How do we reverse the spell?�

�I don't know, but at this point, I don't think we should,� Hermione said softly.

�Are you mad?� Harry nearly shouted. �I want that bloody slave-bond dissolved before Snape wakes up, realizes what I've done to him, and kills me on the spot!�

�He won't,� Hermione said reasonably. �First of all, I think he already knows what you've done. He was conscious wasn't he, when you had cast the spell on him?�

�Yes,� Harry said miserably.

�Second, I don't think the slave-bond will allow him to cause you any harm,� Hermione said.

For some reason, that made Harry feel even worse.

�Fuck,� he whispered tiredly. �I really screwed up this time.�

�I wouldn't say that,� Hermione mused. �This is actually not such a bad thing at this point.�

�I am obviously missing something,� Harry said dryly, finding himself at his wits' end. �Please tell me how this isn't such a bad thing, especially on top of everything else that's going on with Snape?�

�He can't be placed on trial anymore,� Hermione explained. �Trials are for humans. Property can't be tried or accused of a crime. It can only be taken away from the owner and destroyed, if it becomes dangerous, or constitutes a threat to public safety. Since he hasn't done anything illegal while being in your charge, the Ministry can't take him away from you. Count yourself lucky,� Hermione added, �at least now we have some time to work on clearing his name, and once that is done, we can restore his freedom.�

�Oh,� Harry muttered, not certain if he should be horrified or relieved.

Hermione continued softly, �Anyway, Harry, right now we need to obtain a certified copy of his record in the Vital Statistics Registry, which had been modified by the spell, and it'll reveal his altered legal status in relation to you. I can get that done in about four or five hours. Then, he'll be ready to go home with you.� Her last words startled him, and she looked at him with concern, noticing his hesitation. �Harry, you will take him home, won't you?�

Harry glared at her, stunned that she would even ask. Did she really imagine he would let the man go to Azkaban after all he'd been through? �Of course I'll take him home, what do you think?�

�Well, that's good,� said Hermione. �Harry, it'll be fine. It will all work out eventually.�

Harry issued a deep breath and allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. Hermione was right, he thought, at least the imminent crisis was averted for the time being. Snape was not going to Azkaban. Or so Harry dared to hope. If there was one thing Harry remembered about Snape all too well it was the man's pride. For all Harry knew Snape might curse him to hell when he woke and demand to be sent to Azkaban instead of publicly admitting the slave-bond to Harry Potter.

�What about ... later?� Harry asked. �Once we've found a way to clear his name, can I set him free?�

�Yes,� Hermione said confidently. �You can restore his legal freedom at any time. The emotional and magical aspects of the bond will require developing a counter-spell,� she said reluctantly. �And we still don't know what they are,� she added. �I suspect only Snape knows the details.�

Harry nodded, deep in thought. He felt almost relieved at the news, disconcerting as they were. At least he could protect Snape, for now.

�I still don't get it,� he mused. �The spell shouldn't have worked on him.�

�What do you mean?� Hermione asked.

�The spell was for enemies, wasn't it?� Harry asked. �He wasn't.�

�Back then, you still considered him an enemy, didn't you?� Hermione asked.

�Yes, I did,� Harry confessed. �I imagined he had had a change of heart at the last moment, but I had no idea...�

�Well, then,� Hermione murmured. �I suppose that was sufficient.�

�Still, it shouldn't have worked,� Harry continued to argue. �You said... the eh, victim, should have surrendered, er, or submitted, in order for the spell to work. This is Snape we are talking about. It'd be a cold day in hell before he surrendered to me.�

Hermione's face grew slightly more tired and sad. �If you say so, Harry.�

�What's that supposed to mean?� he snapped.

�Harry, think of his state of mind back at the Shrieking Shack! At the moment you cast the spell on him, he was giving you his most private memories. He took everything he was and put it in your hands.�

Harry winced as if he'd been slapped with the stinging hex.

�And I've repaid him by casting an enslavement spell on him, and abandoning him afterwards.�

To Be Continued...

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Proof of Life