dead passion

Dead Passion Part One

King Amar Hilam smirked as he watched the night’s entertainment. One of his subjects had stolen a young witch from the wizarding world. They were much more fun than the usual muggles. Though he greatly disapproved of venturing into the world of muggle and wizards alike, he did not outlaw the trips. It was permitted, on the condition that who ever went did so cautiously and did not expose their true selves or race, to anyone. King Hilam sighed, exiting the audience chamber, no longer amused with the screams of pain and occasionally pleasure, coming from the witch. The palace entertainment was always the same, century after century. A witch, wizard or muggle was abducted, and then sexually tortured publicly for entertainment. When their pleading became too incessantly annoying, the torturer would simply drain them dry. Amar, the king, found it odd how many of his people still found this amusing after so many years. But then would it not always be amusing to humiliate, torture and kill your enemy?

The Vampire had been waging a silent and mostly one sided war for ages against the mortals, wizard and muggle alike. Being hidden like the wizards were from the muggles, no one knew of their existence. There were always myths floating about, and the occasional rogue vampire. But other than that, the world of the vampires had been secreted away for eons. The underground caverns they now lived in provided a sense of security, both from the world and from the rays of the sun’s light, though it would do little harm to anyone but a fledgling. There were, of course, exceptions, as there always were. There were certain potions that would make a vampire completely immune to the burning rays; these were given mostly to the few vampire spies posted above ground.

Like all forces, the vampires wanted to stay informed. There were immortals hidden amongst the unsuspecting mortals, more so in the wizarding world than the muggle. Considering that the wizards were already spying on the muggles and any vampire could easily obtain their information, never the less, first hand information was always more desirable to processed second and third hand information.

The history books told of a time past when vampires strode side by side with the mortals, and the vampires, eventually, wanted to walk among the sheep once again. None could remember when they had walked on the surface, among the sheep, living as family, friends and allies with both muggles and wizarding folk alike. Their books told of dark times, the start of this silent war, when the mortals had grown envious of the immortals, banding themselves together to rid the world of vampires. The war waged above ground for decades, encompassing everything. Slowly the vampires began to loose, they were forced into hiding underground. It was not long after the disappearance of the vampires that the same hatred was turned towards wizards. They too suffered the same fate of isolation as vampires, but instead of being forced underground they hid behind walls of magic and lived in secret magical communities, far from the eyes of muggles.

The muggles slowly forgot about the vampires and wizards, beyond anything but myth. The wizards forgot all knowledge of the vampires, concentrating instead on their own selfish needs and wants.
Fallen from grace, forgotten in shadow, the vampires continued on, hoping to one day return to the surface and regain their lost birthright, next to the mortals.

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Severus Snape had always been a vampire; he had been born one, the childe of an immortal father and mortal mother. As a half blood he was the perfect spy -- with half his heritage being mortal he grew up among them unnoticed but an outsider. Since the age of ten, it was his destiny, when an owl deposited his Hogwarts letter, to gather information for his race at one of the foremost wizarding institutions; Hogwarts. A location infested with teenage wizards and home to some of the most powerful wizards of this age, not that the vampires had not seen a few in their time.

Being sorted into Slytherin was a gift from the seven Hells for Severus, and the vampires. Being in the House meant he was privy to any and all information about the wizarding world. However, the biggest stroke of luck was when the Dark Lord Voldemort decided to make an appearance. Within the house of snakes, Snape was able to obtain and secure a place for himself in the swelling ranks. He then turned spy for the ‘light’, thus he was informed of both light and dark’s plans. He then passed them along to his own kind. It was a trying life, but he managed, and somehow without actually hexing every student. His teaching position at Hogwarts let him stay in a very influential position.

Said Potions Master was presently sweeping around his seventh year class, docking points as he pleased, insulting student’s potions here and there. He occasionally complimented some of the students, but they were only his snakes. As per usual he came crashing down on none other than Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, poster boy for the light, the defender of all good and innocent and the biggest rake Hogwarts had seen in a while; he couldn’t help but sneer at the boy.

Everyone knew Potter would ‘do’ anything that moved, even Slytherins; he actually seemed to take special interest in the snakes. All the teachers knew this, and how could they not when he practically fucked people in the halls. Nobody was likely to turn him down, boys and girls alike, because Harry Potter was bloody gorgeous; it was just a bare-faced fact. With his shoulder length, messy, raven hair, dazzling green eyes hidden behind long black lashes, that held innocents in thrall, wrapped up in an aura of mystery, Harry simply oozed sex appeal. Since Harry had taken to wearing uniforms too small and tight everyone noticed his amazing body. Muscles hardened from Quidditch, wizard hunting, running and sex graced his body from head to toe. The fact that he hardly ever wore robes over his uniform did nothing to hide his arse. Girls, and certain boys, would swoon over it when he bent over; it was tight and just begging to be entered, not that he’d ever heard that anyone had. Harry Potter was a whore for certain, but he was very dominate, always a top. Some of the tougher students had tried to force him, but always found themselves being outdone in the end. One could always tell who had been stupid enough to try; they were usually unable to sit down for weeks at a time.

Snape looked into the boy’s cauldron and lowered his brows. The potion was perfect, there was nothing to insult about it.

Unfortunately Severus had to admit that the boy had gotten quite good at potions. How else could he have gotten into the N.E.W.T.’s class? Yet it wasn’t likely he would actually tell the boy that; he would just move along without saying anything.

As he was walking back to his desk he called out behind him, “Detention Mr. Potter, tonight.”

“Why? I didn’t do anything,” came the curt response.
“For arguing with a teacher, Mr. Potter,” he silkily replied.
“I am not arguing with a teacher,” the boy exclaimed hotly.
“What do you call what you are doing now? Witty banter,” drawled Snape with a raised eyebrow.

Harry looked about ready to protest but then thought better of it. Instead he pulled a small black book from his bag, a day planner, or in this case, night.
“What time?”

“7,” Snape said sharply.
“But I have an appointment at 7,” Harry said looking inside the book.
“Then cancel, Mr. Potter.”

The boy looked thoughtful; he erased something in the book and replaced it with something else.

“Very well,” he said resigned, “but Malfoy’s not going to like this.”
Several people gasped. Malfoy was one of the few people that had openly refused Harry’s approaches. It looked like his resolve had finally crumbled. People started to whisper as the bell rang, as everyone filed out, they could hardly wait to tell this new gossip to their friends.

Severus sighed as the last of his students left, thankful that they were his last class of the day. Gathering his scrolls, he walked to his private chambers. After changing for dinner he left for the great hall. As he strode down the hallway he saw two people making out, one didn’t have robes on, so, it was presumably Potter. He moved quietly until he was right behind the insolent little brat before speaking.
“Mr. Potter kindly take your new conquest some place more private. This is a school and no one wishes to see you devour this young man’s face.”

Potter moved aside, leaning against the wall, cheeks flushed and breathing hitched. His uniform was in disarray, half unbuttoned, he looked absolutely wanton.

“I don’t know sir, I could probably sell a lot of tickets for a show like this,” was his cheeky reply though it was some what breathless. He turned his attention to the other man and found himself staring at a rather flushed looking Draco Malfoy.

“Hello sir,” he said, just as breathlessly as the boy next to him. As Malfoy was Slytherin, he couldn’t actively reprimand him as much as he would have liked.

“Mr. Malfoy,” he acknowledged, “save your physical affections for somewhere more private.”
“We would professor, but you sort of cut into our time.”
Snape sneered.

“Potter, don’t forget: 7 o’clock.” Was all he said in response before he stalked off.
He never did make
it to supper. His left forearm started to itch, a sign of the Dark Lord’s call. He gritted his teeth; he really didn’t feel like going. But his position as spy, no matter who for, was too precious a thing to loose. So instead of going down to a much appreciated meal, being a vampire didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate good food, he turned on his heels and walked back to the dungeons. Luckily, the two boys were no where in sight. He grabbed his Death Eater robes and headed out thro ugh a series of secret passage ways. They eventually lead to the forest where, after throwing on his robes and mask, he apparated away.

As always he ended up in a disgustingly dirty graveyard.
Merlin, it’s almost as if he thinks he’s a fucking vampire. And Vampires do not like grave yards, thought Snape fiercely.
The second he got his mind away from his surroundings, he noticed he was the only one there. This was good. If he’d been exposed that would have meant public embarrassment, his secret was still safe. He approached the monster; bending down in a low bow, he waited for permission to rise.

“Rise Severus,” said the crimson eyed snake man before him.
“How may I serve you?” asked Severus smoothly, keeping the disgust out of his tone.

“I have a mission for you,” replied Voldemort.
Well no duh, thought Snape sarcastically and with uncharacteristic immaturity.

“I will accomplish anything you wish, my Lord, in your name,” Snape said silkily, wishing for a bucket to throw up in. The snake liked it laid on pretty damn thick.

“I want Harry Potter controlled Severus and I don't care how it's done. Seduce the boy, make him yours. I cannot kill him, Severus, so I will have him join us.”

Snape was very, very shocked and really wanted to protest, but knew he couldn’t. Instead, a question came to mind and he was about to ask when Voldemort spoke again.

“You ask why I don’t order say, Mr. Malfoy, who is at school with Potter, to do this? Mr. Potter, from what I’ve heard, likes to be in control of everyone. Mr. Malfoy would not be able to handle the lad. But you can Severus. I will call for you soon to hear of your progress. Christmas Holidays begin in 3 nights time. When he has returned I want you to woo him. That will give you enough time to think of something.”

Severus took this as a dismissal, bowing to the Dark Lord he apparated away, his mind in turmoil. What was he going to do? He’d just been ordered to seduce his own mate, then, hand him over to Voldy-Moldy!
I think not!

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Snape was pacing around his chambers, thinking, or at least attempting to think, about the situation rationally. It wasn’t like he’d never seduced someone at the Dark Lord’s orders before, but this was different. This was Harry Fucking Potter, the fucking part quite literally now. No mentioning of the fact that Potter was his mate. The little bastard, whom he was supposed to spend the rest of eternity with, was banging everything except him. And now this whole Voldemort business was complicating things beyond reason. He had planned on approaching the boy after he left school. Now, however, he didn’t know what to do. Before he could contemplate further, his fireplace sparked to life. Dumbledore, the old fool, wanted to talk to him. Muttering incoherently about crazy old men, he stepped in and was swallowed up by green flames.

He stepped out of the Headmasters fire place brushing off soot when he stopped mid motion. HE was here, Snape could smell Him! He turned his head and indeed, Harry Potter sat in one of the armchairs looking beautiful and insolent at the same time. Snape scowled at him and took a seat. Dumbledore beamed brightly at both, twinkle ever present.

“Lemon drop?” the old man said as he opened the conversation.
Both declined, Severus because he knew there was a mild truth serum in them, Harry because they made his breath smell bad and he had a snogging session to go to after this, and because he knew of the potion.

Looking between the two, the Headmaster offered tea, “There’s a lovely new brew that the house-elves have found. Absolutely delicious?” again the two invited guest shook their heads negatively.
“Biscuits then? Umm? No,” he asked as he looked at his companions. “Well I do believe I shall have some brought up for myself then.

Marvelous little treats if I do say so. Positive you don’t want some?” he offered each a plate that had just appeared from the kitchen laden with pudding. Getting angered by the uselessness of the conversation and by the fact that his mate was so close and he wasn’t able to touch him, Snape snapped at Dumbledore.

“Headmaster, why is it you’ve called me? I’ve important issues to attend to and do not wish to waste my time at a tea party."

“Very well,” said the Headmaster, “Severus, I’ve brought you here because him Harry needs a place to stay between terms.” He held up his hand to the Potions Master before he could open his mouth to decline. “Hear me out Severus,” he said, waiting for Snape’s nod.

When he had it he continued, “Harry has recently given voice to some rather unpleasant goings on at the Dursley’s, his, until recently, home. I will not make him return.” His eyes full of sadness he spoke again, “I truly am sorry my boy.”


The last words were directed at the raven haired boy who was looking at the ground, unconsciously rubbing his wrist through his sleeve.
“S’ok,” the boy murmured without looking up.

Snape was a little shocked, this boy sitting in front of him could not be Harry Potter, he was too subdued and broken looking. He looked different now, than when he’d been in the Hall.

“Unfortunately,” continued the Headmaster, “Hogwarts will be undergoing some changes this holiday. We will be re-warding the castle, so he cannot stay here.”

“And so I am the obvious next choice?” sneered Snape in disbelief.
“Well no,” replied the aged man with blue eyes. “But you are the next safest person to stay with. You’re a trained death eater, a potions master and an accomplished duelling master, one of the best in the country. I do believe that would be efficient protection for Harry.”
“And what about my… random acts of disappearance?” he queried, knowing he wouldn’t get called until after Christmas.

“It’s alright Snape, sir. I know about your spying. No need to hide it. And with me there, I can make sure you don’t bleed to death when you come back from a Death Eater meeting.” Harry said cheekily, though Snape believed he heard an under lying promise being made.
“If a certain Dark Lord or minion of such lord decides to casually drop by?” asked Snape a sneer evident in his voice.

“Well then, make sure Harry here has some Floo powder in his room or there are always methods of disguise Severus,” replied the smug Headmaster.

“It seems I shan’t be getting out of this,” he said, resigned. Then he turned to the offending boy. “Boy,” said boy flinched for some unseen reason, “you will not disturb me when I am in my private chambers or in my laboratories. Is that clear?”

“’Course,” was the stiff reply.
“We leave in the morning, nine o’clock. If your not there, make no mistake, I will leave without you.”

“Very well,” said Harry to his potions professor. He then turned to the Headmaster, “I shall be gone most of the day, but hope to return for dinner.”

“Not a problem, my dear boy. Return by super if you would, but do be careful. I’ll open my Floo for you. The powder is just on the mantel. Have fun,” he said, twinkle full force.

Harry stepped into the fire place and yelled out something incoherent but Snape was fairly sure it resembled the name of a beauty parlour. Trust Potter to get that mop done up at a salon.

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Severus Snape waited at the front entrance; unsurprisingly Mr. Potter was making him wait. He glanced at his wizards watch; 8:58. Well the boy wasn’t late yet, but he was still making Severus wait. He’d been there since 8:55. The brat had not been at supper last night, but Dumbledore had said he’d returned, unharmed, mores the pity. He heard the patter of feet, turning he got ready to glare at the offending boy.

But it was not whom he thought it would be, well at first glance it wasn’t anyway. The man that came down the stairs wore military combat boots and a pair of faded, ripped jeans that fit nicely (in all the right places). Severus noted that the muscle shirt the man wore outlined his abs nicely, as well. His hair was short and white, even whiter than bleach, almost silver. He only knew two people that had hair that white, both of which were Malfoy’s. This man was not a Malfoy. But looking into the bright emerald eyes, he was reminded fiercely of Potter; he looked to the stranger’s forehead, but saw no jagged mark. But then he let his vampire senses through and realized with a jolt that this mysteriously gorgeous man was Harry Potter.
The link to his mate was here, the man smelled like Potter and he most certainly held himself in the same sexual way.

“Mr. Potter, what have you done?” asked Snape incredulously, the white haired boys emerald eyes widened in shock.

“How’d you know it was me, sir?” Harry queried, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“You smell the same, now come along. We must leave, we are already behind schedule,” replied Severus, not bothering to explain further. He turned on his heels and left through the open doors, his belongings trailing behind him.

“Smell the same?” whispered Harry to himself, quietly puzzled before he shrugged his shoulders dismissively. He set off after Snape, his bags safely shrunk in his pockets.

They arrived at a large manor several hours latter. Both had passed the silent train trip reading. No one greeted them at the front entrance when they walked in, not that Harry had truly expected it though. Without words Snape beckoned Harry to follow him. They traveled a fair distance before Severus stopped in front of a door. He opened it and walked inside expecting Potter to follow, which he did.

The room was huge and decorated in different shades of blues and browns. There was a door to the right of where they stood, Snape pointed to it and explained that it was bathroom. After mentioning that dinner was at 6 sharp, he turned to head away, but Harry stopped him.

“Where are your rooms, Severus?” he asked his voice low, Snape turned.

“What did you call me?” he questioned, his tone dangerous.
“Your given name, now Severus, where are your chambers?” Harry queried again, the question was not one of idle curiosity.

“Don’t call me that,” hissed the Potions Master. The way his name rolled off the young man’s lips was playing havoc with his vampire senses.

“And why not? I can hardly go around calling you professor Snape, now can I?” said the Potter boy, talking matter-of-factly.

“Why can’t you?” demanded Snape with a sneer. Damn he really wanted to kiss the boy, as he stood there all defiant. The next couple of weeks would be absolute Hell, he just knew it.

“Well duh,” mumbled Harry, “because then anyone who comes to your manor will know your harbouring a student and people can’t think that. Thus the oh-so clever disguise.” Harry said as he gestured to himself.

“Then what would you have them think?” Harry leaned into Snape, locking gazes with the stubborn man. “Where is your bedroom,” the boy asked again, his voice husky.

“You can’t mean that!” Screeched Severus, his throat tight.
“If people think I am your lover they will not question my presence.”
“Have you ever thought of passing yourself off as a distant relative?” Asked Snape, impressed the boy had thought this all out.
“I look nothing like you. Family ties could always be checked and verified.”

“Very well, you’ve thought this through. I will concede the point.”
“And as a family member you’d have been order to recruit me.” Harry continued on. “ As a lover you can say you’ll probably dispose of me soon, so there’s no point risking your cover.” Snape glared at him, not happy to be out done by Potter, of all people.

“So Severus,” started Harry, “where’s your room?”

Snape growled at the youth, it was returned with a cheeky grin. Snape moved towards the door and pointed across the hall, to a pair of double doors.

“Those are my chambers. You are forbidden from going in there without my express permission. Again dinner is at six, don’t be late. A house-elf will escort you there.”

Closing the door with a soft bang, Snape left Harry to unpack. Unfortunately Harry didn’t have a lot to unpack, having lived with the Dursley’s, left him with basically nothing to do. Having only some clothes, a photo album and some school books, he pretty much left everything in his trunk. Then thinking better of it, he took out some school supplies and started his holiday work.

He’d worked through his divinations dream journal work, seeing himself die a total of twelve times all in different horrific ways. He was half way through his charms work when a knock sounded on the door; when he opened it, he saw, as he had expected, a house-elf.
“Mr. Potter,” the elf said bowing low. “Inky is supposed to escort Master Snape’s guest to the dinning room sir. Please follow Inky, sir,”

The house-elf turned without waiting for a reply and started to walk down the hall. The walk was long and Harry was sure he’d never be able to find his room again. They made it just in time; Snape was already sitting at the table.

“Mr. Potter,” the potion master acknowledged
“Severus,” the boy said, preening in false ecstasy, pretending to be overjoyed. “It’s just marvellous to be here!”

The sarcasm was unmistakable and evident to all but the house elf, who actually spoke with such enthusiasm. Severus ignored it as Harry turned to the elf.

A/N: hope you liked this, this is the first instalment in a 3 part story. Please review and enjoy

Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me except the plot