Diseased | By : Ladygreychaton Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3562 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, this is just for fun, with no intentions of profit. |
Everything was white. It was quiet here, nothing could reach him. Not the cupboard, not the Dursleys, nothing at all. A field of fragrant and soft flowers, completely white. His fingers languidly reached out to brush against petals, and Harry smiled.
A black blur darted at the edge of his vision. Confusion sparked. What was that? Harry lifted his head to glance around, but couldn't catch another glimpse.
Clawed fingers curled around his head from behind, covering his eyes. He could feel the sharp edges of the jagged black claws that covered his face. His heart pounded on instinct, but somehow he wasn't sure if the fingers, or rather their owner, would hurt him. Still, he was alert and afraid.
Making no move to free himself, he held still, blind beneath the black. His mouth was opening to speak when he heard it.
"Do you know, Harry? Do you know what you are?" Whispered a strangely familiar and hoarse voice next to his ear. Warm breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of his cheek, and he turned his head back towards the sound.
"I know what you are... would you like to see?"
The fingers fell away from his face. Suddenly, Harry was turning slowly, almost hypnotically following the voice. Behind him was a creature, all black. Black, black skin, black eyes, lips all black. Everything was black! The only thing that was not black-- was the stark white teeth of its smile.
"We're going to see a lot more of each other, Harry... but it's time to wake up, now, Harry... Harry? Wake up, Harry."
The voice had trailed off, mixing in with another voice, and somehow the field of white flowers was fading away. The black creature had disappeared, the white crescent smile carved into it's laughing face still flashing in his mind.
Harry Potter blinked in confusion at Severus for a moment, his guardian looking rather alarmed. It was an unusual expression for the dour man to make, his expression slack, long face looking pale.
"Did... did you sleep well?" Severus attempted to recover. "Perhaps the potions caused some sort of reaction, I shall have to remember that. We should adjourn to the dining room and get you something to eat. That is... if you are feeling up to par?"
Harry nodded slowly, sitting up and throwing off the sweat-drenched covers. Somehow, he wanted to forget the whole thing. The laughing black face seemed to tell him it was not going to be forgotten, worming its way into his memory and forcing a shudder from him.
Severus mistook the shudder as a sign of cold and quickly spelled the damp sheets dry, performing the same spell on Harry himself. "We should get you showered and changed after we have gotten you something warm to eat. I need to assess your health first, I fear. My apologies if you are still tired."
Harry hid a small smile, amused at the thought that the dark Professor could be such a mother hen. Imagining what most of Hogwarts would think if they knew, he resisted the urge to snort. No, they most definitely would not believe him.
Severus lead the way back to the dining room, murmuring under his breath about sampling Harry's blood. Harry seated himself at the table, yawning and stretching once more, earning himself a raised eyebrow from his father. Shrugging, he hid his hands in his lap, hunching over.
Tapping his black wand on the tray-covered meal, Severus removed the stasis and warmed the sandwiches and soup back to piping hot and freshly prepared, fresh from the oven delights. Harry smiled gratefully, unaware till then that Severus had waited to eat as well. Magically prepared or not, the soup was delicious, and the sandwiches hit the spot.
Harry was feeling a bit less tense, not even realizing he'd been twitchy since his nap as he settled into the calming atmosphere with his father. Severus Snape was not a talkative person, or even overtly warm to most people. But he did mean what he said, Harry found, and he did give off a very soothing aura. Perhaps it was the blood potion, but he had gotten rather good at reading the stern man and his moods.
So it was that it came as no surprise that Severus calmly dabbed his mouth with his napkin, set it aside and stood from the table. His wand made several movements, silently incanting and brushing over the dishes, setting them to wash in the kitchen. Pleasantly full, Harry admired the simple magics of life as a wizard, smiling gently.
"Now I think we should retire to the lab. If you like, I can study the sample myself while you peruse the book at your own leisure. However, it is very important I get a look at your blood now, a general work-up and your metabolism. It could be quite important to your future and your health."
He was moving as he spoke, black robes billowing behind him as always. The green-eyed teen dutifully followed, trailing down the hallway, past his room, and down two doors.
"The second door is the lavatory," Severus informed him quietly. "The room after that is mine, with the connecting room being my potion's lab. Should you need me, you can find me in either. I ask that you knock before entering my lab, but you are always welcome to join me."
That sounded reasonable, considering the importance of potions, so Harry nodded, then realized he was behind the other man and mumbled a quick, "Yes, Severus."
Entering Severus' bedroom seemed fairly normal as it had a small sitting area off to one side, through which they wandered and headed for a small door, completely ignoring the sleeping quarters to the right. The Professor didn't seem embarrassed, leading Harry to the door without so much as a stall or flinch.
Inside was a simple lab, half the size of the Hogwarts lab, though the teen supposed that made sense--- considering it was mostly for one person. He might be instructed here, and Remus or Sirius might join him, but he imagined it was generally just for Severus.
Nervous hands reached up to push up his glasses, glancing around at all the shelves of ingredients, strange as some of them were. A memory of Ron nudging him intruded and he had to clamp down on the melancholy of that moment, recalling the ginger's repulsion at his existence. No, Ron was not a part of his life anymore and it would not do to remember him fondly now.
Severus had been rummaging around and turned with sterile supplies and a syringe. Harry frowned curiously for a moment as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeve, rolling it up above the elbow.
"Severus, uh... don't take this the wrong way, but... don't most wizards not know much about blood and..." Harry trailed off, gesturing with his free hand lamely. He wasn't sure how to phrase it, feeling like he was overall insulting.
Severus' thin lips pulled taut, twitching at the corners into a strange smirk. Amusement seemed present as he answered in a slow drawl. "Yes, Harry, most witches and wizards in the magical world are not aware of muggle biology or medical physiology. However, I am a half-blood as we have discussed." He swabbed the skin of Harry's arm with an alcohol cotton. "I was raised in a muggle household, though my mother was a witch. My father disapproved of magical things, and though he wished I had been... more athletic, he approved of muggle academics."
He paused, tying a quick tourniquet and readying the needle with its cap for the phials of blood, set to be slid into place as soon as the needle was in the vein. To distract Harry, he continued, "I was particularly interested in science, chemistry, and biology. Human biology and medicinal chemistry were fascinating to apply a wizarding outlook to, safe topics I could bring home to study without fear of upsetting my father's wrath."
Harry was fascinated, learning about his father's past and barely felt the needle, a small prick off to one side. "Your father really didn't like wizards and the magical world that much?" His voice was a trembling whisper. It felt relatable.
Severus raised his eyes from the task, his smirk grim and sardonically mocking. "My nose was broken long before the Marauders ever got to it, Harry. No, my father hated magic and blamed my mother for it. My mother, a pureblood witch, who was not beautiful in conventional ways, but could have had any marriage in the magical world-- loved a man who beat her for her own reality." He shook his head. "I know a lot about the muggle world. But I could not hate it, for it is how I met Lily."
Slowly, the teen nodded. The Dursleys and Snape's past with his father sounded a bit similar. Thus far, most wizards didn't seem to have much common ground with him. Hermione's parents loved that their daughter was a witch.
The Professor finished the draw and removed the needle, applying pressure and instructing Harry to hold the cotton swab there while he took the sample for a few moments off to his cauldron.
"This is my favorite invention," Severus continued calmly. "While muggles would kill to have this, luckily I already do. I am able to run a metabolic panel in seconds after getting a sample of your blood. See your levels and irregularities, the scale of your blood, diagnose diseases and past illnesses all based off one sample."
Wide eyes behind round glasses stared at the phial of blood, disbelieving. "All that... from one phial?"
"Blood... is a dangerous and powerful substance in the magical world, Harry," Severus agreed. "Best remember that."
He tipped the contents of the phial into the cauldron, setting it to simmer and stirring it every few minutes in rotating motions. A ring sounded and Harry glanced around curiously, still applying pressure with one hand to the bend in his elbow.
"It is the cauldron, it is presently set to ring when I finish a potion," He glanced at Harry, his lips twitching in that not-smile again. "Only when you are within the lab will you hear it. Do not worry, it is to keep me from being absent-minded."
Severus produced a roll of parchment, carefully ladling a bit of the potion over the parchment until it was completely saturated. A tap of his wand later, it was dry and words began to pour over the page, completely filling out a physical history for one Harry Potter.
A dark brow furrowed and chills raced down Harry's spine. Dark eyes glanced at the boy and a hand moved quickly to the site of the needle puncture, removing the cotton swab as well. Curiously, Harry noted there was no blood, nor any sign that there had been. No mark, no trace of a dimple or cut.
Frowning, Harry glanced at the cotton swab, noting it was dry and plain white, clean. "That... is really weird, right?"
"As I expected, according to this," Severus admitted, gesturing to the parchment. "Would you like to know why you are such an unusual boy, Harry?"
Why would this never cease? Always a bump, always some struggle, always some terror lurking to make him feel like a freak. Harry's thoughts left him feeling a bit troubled, but he vowed to face them head-on, like a Gryffindor. Nodding slowly, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "Yes, please."
Severus eyed him carefully before he began, "Your blood shows unusual levels on several ranges or panels. Normally a person would have Glucose within 65-100. Technically, you can be as high as 130 and be considered a normal range." He paused. "You were considerably low, as low as 38, which is unusual seeing as you just ate. I'm considering it must be a part of your fast metabolism, considering the highly condensed numbers of your blood platelets. This is normally a sign of infection or even disease. But your blood platelets are simply off the chart, higher than I've ever seen! Your white blood cells, your red blood cells... they are simply burning, multiplying and exceeding the normal amount. When they have exhausted their supply, they begin to disintegrate. You are rapidly creating and destroying cells, faster than most humans can make one, you are making thousands. There is also high levels of chloride in your blood, iron and chloroauric acid. I think... that may be the Philosopher's doing, but I'm not sure to what end."
He paused, beginning to pace the small lab. "Basically, on a cellular level, you are burning through everything every few hours and regrowing it all. Why it almost seems as if---"
"As if I were a Phoenix on burning day?" Harry interrupted, his lips feeling numb as he did so.
The Potion's Master stopped, turning slowly to stare at him. "That is... an accurate description, yes. I think the only way to offer you a bit of stability is to give it something to feed off of. A cambion is supposed to feed on the magical essence, it's why you feel so content when you drink our blood." He paused. "If you inherit that aspect from Lucius, you might feel more stable later. But for now, we'll have to up your food intake. Give it something to burn and allow you to remain healthy. Your body is already feeding off the old blood cells, and that is highly unusual. After less than a millisecond, the first cell will deteriorate and another will be born. The former cell will be absorbed by the new cell and increase the productivity of the new generation."
Harry nodded. Really, that sounded reasonable. After all, absorbing a Philosopher's stone and Phoenix tears would likely have some drawbacks. It was only natural when it came to being Harry Potter. He couldn't do anything normally, after all.
"For the time being, I want you to eat every two hours that you are awake, and I shall set an alarm to eat every four-to-six while sleeping," Severus instructed, sweeping about his lab. "I will send letters out to myself and the others... carefully. They will be updated on your condition for the future of your stay so you cannot get out of this."
Black eyes were stern. "It is important you eat, even if you do not wish to. I will get you potions to settle your stomach or help handle the additional snacks, but I imagine with your metabolism there will be little problem handling it all in no time." Severus tucked the parchment into his robes, heading back to the door of the lab. "We should get you a snack now and then relax quietly while I fill out the letters."
Harry sighed but dutifully did as he was told. It seemed things were always complicated.
After the letters were shipped out, the Potion's Professor tapping them with his wand, Harry and Severus settled into a decent routine for the next two days. Harry did not enjoy eating so often, but it wasn't all bad. He got to choose what to blood sugar and energy levels for long enough till the next while. eat, and often chose fruits and meats over most things to munch when it came to snacks. After all, a handful of grapes or a small bit of dried jerky would level out his
Speaking of meals, he now had four. Not only was he eating constant snacks, he also had four balanced meals. Severus and he had taken to going on small walks to help deal with Harry's stir-crazy attitude or working quietly outside in Severus' potions garden. There was a decent sized trail through the woods nearby, and wandering along this area settled his thoughts. Tending to the garden calmed his nerves a bit and relaxed him enough that he could later read the Cambion book or talk quietly with Severus. Pulling weeds was a simple, menial job that required little thinking, after all.
He was even learning about the Prince family, the abilities from the Gorgon, Medusa mythology called her, that had passed down her abilities to the line of descendants. Some of them were dormant, passing silently through gene pools and blossoming randomly now and then. Others were pretty common and tended to show up each generation.
One such generational gift was the 'Stone Gaze', thus called for it's intimidation and paralysis abilities. Harry recalled the intenseness of the Professor's gaze in Potion's class and nodded, agreeing that it had stilled many a children. Severus also admitted that if direct eye contact was given, one could even freeze a person, and allow the user to slip into their subconscious. While frozen, someone often projects their most terrifying thoughts and fears to the surface, and the Medusa line was known to be able to take advantage of this.
"So you really did know how terrifying you were, and what we were thinking!" Harry laughed, thinking of all the times Ron had accused the man of the same thing.
"In a way, yes," Severus admitted. "I am also a master of the Mind Arts, which made my abilities as a Gorgon greater. I never truly excelled at full paralysis, but I was able to slip inside minds with ease." Here he scoffed a bit. "Not that pre-pubescent minds offered anything of interest to myself."
Harry laughed and they'd spent the rest of the night playing chess, relaxing before the fire. He still drank Severus' blood potion once a day, and he still had the dream of the black smiling creature each time he closed his eyes. He had yet to tell Severus about him.
It was the fourth morning of his week back with Severus when Harry noticed something peculiar. Something decidedly... off.
"Severus?" Harry called, standing in the lavatory, freshly washed and in his boxer shorts. He'd gradually become more comfortable around his father, so he wasn't particularly worried about his state of undress.
That and he was putting on a small bit of muscle, slowly. Perhaps by the end of the summer, he'd be a bit less gangly, if only by a little. He'd likely always be on the slim side, never managing to bulk up. But managing not to be so skeletal would be a perk, perhaps finally achieving something other than being called 'scrawny'.
At the moment, however, he wasn't worried about his weight. The green-eyed boy was itching irritably at his skin, scowling in discomfort.
Severus knocked once, letting himself in not long after. His robes brushed across the floor as he swept hurriedly across the black and white tile in two quick strides to stand beside Harry.
"Yes? What is it?" Rumbled his deep baritone, sounding sharp but worried if you knew him.
Harry squirmed, trying to reach various spots on his back to scratch.
"I think there's something... wrong. I'm itching... but it's beyond itching. I feel like I'm on fire, I feel like I'm burning!" Green eyes watered as his nails left angry red trails across his skin, trying to relief the obvious irritation. "Severus, what's happening?"
A perplexed and concerned look drew dark brows together and the Potion's Professor batted away the teen's hands, inspecting his back and torso with a critical eye in the glow of the bathroom light. The skin seemed slightly scraped by dull fingernails, stretched taut and almost... dehydrated? Strangely, he could find no hives, no trace of inflammation or redness not caused by Harry's scratching.
"Unusual, but although I have a theory..." Severus trailed off, murmuring quietly. After a moment he nodded. "Come to the lab after you have dressed. I shall have something you can put on it. Do your best not to scratch, I am aware it will be quite difficult. What I have will make it better, hopefully, so please just endure for the time being."
Harry's eyes boggled and he gulped but nodded. He would do his best and try to hold out for whatever Severus would come up with. Surely, if it would help, he would have to hold out hope. Anything would be better than this incessant itching and burning. His skin just felt like it had been flayed, left in the sun too long, baked or perhaps stretched too taut. Worse still, it was spreading. His arms, his hands and his legs. Everywhere was starting to feel the effects, no longer just his stomach, chest and back.
So it was that he rushed to answer the summons from Severus when he announced that he might have a cure for whatever was ailing him. Bolting to the lab, he skidded through Severus' personal rooms and threw open the laboratory door in his hurry to the dark man's side.
"It's done?" He demanded wildly, wearing only his baggiest and softest clothes. Everything else seemed to chafe and make his skin worse.
Severus eyed him seriously for a moment, but nodded without comment on his attitude. "Yes, it is. Now we have only to apply it and see if it helps, if you are willing."
"Anything!" Harry begged, divesting himself of his shirt and climbing onto a lab stool, plopping himself in front of Severus with a look of desperation. "What sort of potion is it? Ah, I don't care, just please help...."
Severus grunted for a moment, but unstoppered a phial and poured a blue substance between his hands and began to rub it between them. Slowly, he moved forward and began to rub the blue gel-like potion in a massaging motion over Harry's back and shoulders. The boy hissed in surprise at the cool sensation, having expected it to be warm from its creation, but quickly settled into a small lull of relaxation. Murmuring softly, he hummed appreciatively. "It... worksss...."
Severus chuckled deeply. "To answer your earlier question, it is a substance mostly comprised of mint, menthol, zinc, oxide, aloe, lanolin, and squeezed dittany juices. At the final stage of brewing, I added some powdered moonstone and it created a lovely balm, though it has some gel-like qualities that suited the needs I had been hoping to make. It is... not dissimilar to certain things, but different enough that I was able to alter it accordingly. I am glad it can be of use to you. As your father, or one of them, it is my job to take care of you."
Harry murmured again, noting that Severus had finished with his back and was now pressing the phial into his hand. "I will brew more of this batch, keeping a good stock in case this is a continued problem. In the meantime, I will leave the rest of the application up to you."
Blearily he nodded, smiling shyly at the Potion's Professor and heading back to his room, shirt in hand. The phial came in handy, and was quickly used up on all his various itchy spots. Covered in the soothing potion, Harry settled comfortably into reading about cambions once more.
Cambions are known to have come to be from various magical sources. At times of distress, even before full manifestation and maturity, they may absorb other magical essences if it is deemed a time of dire need to their health or survival.
This has caused them to be known as 'Diseased' or 'Leeches' in some communities, though it is usually something beyond their particular control. Basic flight or fight instinct causes them to react in need, not desirably draining from a creature, host or magical object. While a werewolf only appears as it's infected form once-to-three times a month, a Cambion is capable of magically altering those around them at will.
Though there have been cases of a Cambion wielding it's ability or abilities in offense, it is more commonly noted in history as defensive positions. Cambions are more likely to avoid the magical community as a whole, blending in as some sort of other-species when they are forced to mingle. Most often they claim to be Chameleons, Chimaera, or Shifters due to their various parentage and abilities, not trusting even other creatures with the knowledge of their existence.
Finding a Cambion is considered near impossible because of this, let alone getting to know much about them. What little that has been documented is carefully squirrelled away, though many argue it is pitifully small compared to other species and their habits. The race as a whole is a secretive sort, perhaps due to it's label as 'Diseased'.
The making of a Cambion is known, but what they become is something altogether unfamiliar. Demons are unable to walk the plain of the magical world without Contracts, Clans, or Hosts. Old Clans, with Elder demon alloted time on the natural plain. During this time, a demon will often seek out another of their race, or something compatible to breed with. Second generation demons are formed in this way, with demonic traits and appearance present from birth, but it pales in comparison to a contractual, first generation demon. lines admit that they have gone to great lengths to preserve their existence in bodies and birthing live children. A contract is usually formed between a magical being and the demon, allowing them
Contractual demons are the sort that devours souls, the type that caused the wrath of the Black Plague and destroyed most witches and wizards of the Dark Ages. Even a powerful Warlock is vulnerable to their kind and would hesitate to summon their ilk, leaving it up to a proper practitioner, should it be necessary. Caution should always be applied to these slippery folk.
It is not from these that Cambion is born, rather a sacrifice from a first generation Demon possessing its Host. Most are uncertain how exactly it is achieved, but the Cambion is born as the fruit and seed of many magically collected 'fathers'. The progeny does not take and bear proper existence, remaining a locked trove until the ritual is completed.
However, the proper ritual beyond conception requires the awakening of the magic and spirit within the 'trove', unlocking the Cambion within the child. To do so, the mother Demon and Host must both willingly offer themselves.
Naturally, most do not succeed here, as both are not in agreement at this stage. Finding the idea of a Cambion to be appalling and preferring to die without a proper concession. Without the unity of mind and agreement between the two, a true sacrifice cannot be made and the ritual will fall through.
But, in the case they both agree at the precise moment of death, both Host and Demon finding a Cambion life being better for the progeny, then the sacrifice is complete. The magic unlocks the Cambion and puts it into sedation or sleep-state till its fourteenth birthday. Arguably, should the child need it, it awakens throughout childhood, but otherwise lies dormant until maturity.
All that is left is finding its seed-fathers and completing the bond. Draining blood or genetics and growing into its abilities before its eventual birthday.
Harry paused here, rolling onto his side. Elbow propped against his cheek, he huffed curiously, kicking his feet against the mattress.
"So... mum thought I'd be safer this way. I... I guess that's reassuring. I mean, she did seek all my fathers out, that's what the rat said..."
Green eyes scanned the last few paragraphs again.
"Oh... wait. So I'm going to be getting my abilities from Severus and the others starting now?" His nose wrinkled in confusion, reaching up to itch the side of his neck, aware that the potion was starting to wear off.
"I wonder what that means for me, and what I'll get. It can't be too bad can it?" Harry murmured softly, wondering aloud why it sounded so ominous even to himself.
-------------
[[ Why do I feel like an evil Author? Don't question your destiny, Harry! You'll make it worse...
Still own nothing. Just my own amusement. ]]
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo