Scarred Souls

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Title: Scarred Souls



Author: Misty Moonlight/Co-author: QueenBoadicea



Beta: QueenBoadicea



Pairings: Severus/Harry



Published: 12/10/2008



Summary: A widowed Harry must bond with Snape in order to save his daughter’s life. Sev gains a family, for better or worse, and the hearts of two scarred souls will be changed forever.



Warnings: Romance, Drama, Angst, Alternate Reality/Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, non-canon, OOC, WIP



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Chapter 20: Unbreakable





The next morning, Harry was startled by Molly Weasley stepping out of the floo. She was holding Lily who immediately reached out for Harry. “Dada! Dada! Dada!” she squealed.



“I’m sorry to do this to you, Harry.”



“Sorry for what, Mum?” Harry asked, even as he reached out automatically for his little girl. She nestled into his arms and cooed contentedly, pulling at his hair.



“The poor thing has been miserable since you left. She kept on crying for you and refusing to eat. I know this is a hardship, what with him being around. But the girl really needs to be with her father.”



“It’s okay, Mum. I think things are getting better,” Harry lied. After last night’s scene, he doubted any such thing. But Snape had been gone since early this morning and hadn’t reappeared. He didn’t know where the man was but hoped for his own sake that he wasn’t in any trouble.



Molly didn’t leave immediately but stood hovering near the fireplace, her eyes darting back and forth as though expecting Snape to be lurking in a corner somewhere. “You’re sure you’re all right, Harry? I could stay for a bit, help you get sorted.”



“No, that’s fine. I was going to leave for work soon anyway and take the children with me.”



She looked a bit disappointed but nodded. “Remember, Harry dearest, if you need anything from me—”



“I know where to find you. Thanks, Mum. Say goodbye to Granny Weasley, Lily,” Harry urged.



Lily smiled and waved her chubby arm at Molly, gabbling, “Byebyebyebye!”



Molly bent towards the child and gave her a kiss, causing Lily to giggle again. With one last searching look around the living room, Molly stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a flash.



Harry sighed. Now, instead of getting two children ready for the day out, he had to dress Lily as well. At least he could trust the boys to look out for their little sister. He nuzzled Lily, delighting in her freshly washed scent, and took her upstairs.



********************************************************************



Severus checked the cauldron critically before lowering the temperature a fraction. It was a relief to be back in his own home. True, Spinners End lacked the capacious space of Potter’s cottage. But he could feel himself breathing freely here, away from those miserable children and the yammering trio.



Not that he’d stay here indefinitely. Potter’s home was now his as well and he was damned if the puerile pranks of his misbegotten spawn were going to keep him from what was rightfully his. It was just so lovely to be in the stillness and quiet of his old home.



He wondered what Potter was doing. Probably another trip to that orphanage with his ill-conceived children. He was glad to be spared another such disastrous outing.



But Potter would be there, surrounded by yelling, red-faced urchins—and that Kinderlieb woman.



Severus got an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut when he thought of her. He’d looked through the glass pane of the children’s playroom after he’d left and seen that woman holding Potter by the shoulder. She’d given him such a warm sympathetic look, too. It was clear they’d been talking about him after he’d left, judging by the grimaces he’d seen on her face. Potter had likely outlined how badly he’d been treated by his greasy, ill-tempered, nasty former Potions professor.



Did the woman have designs on Potter? If she did, it was likely Potter was oblivious. He was still caught up in nostalgia over his departed wife. Still, she was a possible obstacle and Severus Snape wasn’t about to stand for it. Potter was his bond mate and it was time the man knew it.



Severus thought he’d shown the height of forbearance towards Potter, all things considered. All right, there was that moment when he’d tried to hex Potter’s firstborn. But since then he hadn’t so much as touched them or sent a spell their way.



They deserved some harsh discipline, those two. Those heads were a despicable trick and a nuisance almost beyond bearing. They never ran out of critiques about his looks, manners, behavior or his past misdeeds. He knew just what kind of man he was: he didn’t need commentary from magical creations.



He still needed to get into Grimmauld Place if he was to banish those things without losing his pride. His first attempt at propositioning Potter had failed. Time to fall back on what he did best. Hence, his current brewing project.



The altered Amortentia was nearly ready. The suspicious odor that gave away the presence of the usual potion had been done away with; Potter would have no clue that he’d been drugged. The only thing left to do was to get it into his food.



Once it was ingested, it would have only a limited amount of time for Potter to feel its effects. He needed to be there in order for his plan to work. The moment Potter tasted his drugged food, he must set eyes on his bond mate.



After last night, that might be problematic. He had made it too clear to Potter that he couldn’t stand the company of his children and the man never seemed to be far from them these days. Perhaps he could arrange a dinner for two. He would have to be subtle about it. Potter knew Severus had no interest in him romantically so he’d have to pretend he wished for more amiable relations without hinting at greater intimacies.



It couldn’t be too difficult. He had played the dutiful servant to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for years without the creature realizing that he was an agent for the Light. How hard could it be to trick one simple-minded Gryffindor?



His nose told him the brew had reached the proper temperature. It had achieved the characteristic sheen without the curling steam and telltale odor. This potion would work.



Then Potter would learn what a skillful Slytherin could manage between the sheets. He might not obliterate that Weasley girl from his heart. But he would show Potter pleasures of the flesh that would surpass anything that woman would have been capable of. A few hours of sexual bliss and Potter would be putty in his hands.



Of course, he would need only one bout to admit him past the wards of Grimmauld Place. But getting Potter’s cooperation for running the cottage household would be easier if the Gryffindor were under his sway. Severus didn’t stop to think why he was so interested in seducing Potter, by fair means or foul. He refused to admit to anything more than concern over contenders like that Kinderlieb woman.



He waved his wand and extinguished the flames. Carefully ladling out the potion, he filled a dozen flacons with the glittering fluid. Armed and fortified with the brews tucked into his robe, he banished the residue from the cauldron. It was not one of his best cauldrons, which was why he’d left it behind in Spinners End in the first place, but it was good enough to get the job done.



The act of brewing soothed him as usual. It more than made up for the wretchedness of the past week.



The plan would work. Potter would fall into line. The large library at Grimmauld’s Place would be his.



He felt better than he had in days. Severus smiled and the twins would have been terrified if they could have seen it. Gathering up floo powder, he prepared for his return to the Potter den.



********************************************************************



The riders zoomed around him, Beaters furiously batting away the Bludgers. Hovering above the chaos, Harry’s eyes darted around, looking for the elusive Snitch. He caught sight of the flash of gold and dove swiftly after it.



The other team’s Seeker, Leonard Crumby, dove for it at the same time. Leonard was small, like all Seekers, but timid in the air. He’d suffered a couple of brutal falls earlier in the season and it had left him nervous in play, a weakness Harry knew how to exploit.



He dove too near Leonard. He could easily pull up without danger but he saw the other man flinch, taking him a few scant inches from the flying golden sphere. It wasn’t much but it was enough. The Snitch veered off its course and he was the first to follow it. Tilting his broom, he ducked slightly under it and, when he came up, the winged ball was struggling to escape his grip.



“Harry’s got the Snitch, folks! Game over!”



“Well done, Harry!”



Amid a flurry of congratulations and applause, Harry landed. In spite of catching the Snitch, the game had been a close one. Leonard might have been a nervous nelly but the other team was led by a captain as ruthless and obsessed as Oliver Wood had once been. Morgan Tallenby had obviously trained them well and Harry was grateful for it. He relished a challenge. A game easily won was no fun at all.



Morgan came over, his curly hair wildly skew from the wind. “Good game, Potter,” he said grudgingly.



Someone punched him in the arm. “Don’t take it so hard, Morgan. There’s no shame in losing to Harry Potter.”



“Yeah, I used to see this bloke play at Hogwarts,” another man—what was his name? Bruce?—said. “He wasn’t star player on the team because of his looks.”



“Good thing, too,” Ron replied, strolling up with his broom over his shoulder. “Harry was never what you’d call handsome.”



“Speak for yourself, ginger,” Harry retorted.



The good-natured banter continued while the children ran up to their parents, cheering and laughing. The twins and Timothy danced around Harry, yelling and arguing over who would get to hold the Snitch this time.



Hermione walked up to them, juggling Lily in her arms and grinning from ear to ear. She kissed her husband on the cheek. “Good game, Ron.”



“Glad you could make it, Hermione. I know you’ve been busy.” At this, Ron darted a searching look towards Harry.



“That’s why I’m here. Harry, I thought we could get together and talk.” She stared meaningfully at Harry as well.



“You want me there, ‘Mione?” Ron asked in a low voice as they walked away from the rest of the team.



“Ron, I’d appreciate it if you took the twins and Timothy to Fortescue’s. I’m sure they’d love some ice cream,” his wife suggested.



“Yay! Ice cream! Ice cream!” the boys yelled.



“Where can I bring them later?”



Harry considered. He didn’t want to go back to his cottage. Snape had been absent this morning but he had no idea how long that would last. “Grimmauld Place.”



Ron nodded. “Can do. Okay, let’s go, boys!”



Harry waved until Ron had all the children firmly in his hold. When he’d seen them Disapparate, he took Lily from Hermione’s arms. “You’ve got something to say, Hermione?”



“Yes, it’s about your…situation. Are you sure you want to go to Grimmauld?”



“You bet. Snape can’t get in there yet.”



“That’s right. You haven’t had sex with him yet, have you?” Harry could feel that telltale warmth creeping up his neck. Hermione could be awfully forthright about things, sometimes. Probably the Muggle in her.



“Let’s get to Grimmauld Place, ‘Mione. Then you can tell me your news.”



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Grimmauld Place seemed a trifle brighter today. Harry puzzled as to what could have made the difference.



“Oh, you’ve gotten new wallpaper!” Hermione exclaimed.



She was right. The dark paneling on the walls had been covered with wallpaper featuring roses and…ducks. He was gaping at the bizarre juxtaposition of flora and fauna when Kreacher popped into the hallway. He bowed low to Harry and smiled at Hermione.



“Good afternoon, Master Harry. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? Something for your guest and the little one?”



Hermione frowned at hearing “Master” and Harry shrugged apologetically at her. He had never been able to break Kreacher of that particular habit and had ceased trying when the house-elf began battering his head against walls over it.



“That would be great. Um, Kreacher?”



“Yes, Master Harry?”



“I was wondering about the wallpaper.”



“Yes, Kreacher did a fine job,” the house-elf said with satisfaction. “Your children were most pleased.”



“James and Albus saw this?”



“Indeed. The young masters helped me pick it out. They thought it would make this place more cheery and that you’d want to stay more often.”



“Oh, I see. It’s…good, Kreacher. Really good.” Hermione stifled a giggle. Harry didn’t blame her. The wallpaper was ridiculous, more suited to a child’s room than to adult furnishings. But he didn’t have the heart to deny Kreacher’s obvious pride in his work.



Sure enough, Kreacher beamed, his face dissolving into a mass of wrinkles. “Thank you, Master Harry. Please retire to the dining hall and I’ll bring you your meal.” Kreacher disappeared with a very self-satisfied pop.



Hermione followed Harry and they seated themselves in the dining room. Far bigger than any room he had back home, Harry didn’t feel quite comfortable in it. But, when Hermione pulled out the papers she’d been carrying in a small purse and re-sized them, he realized they’d need more room than what could be found in the kitchen.



Harry drew out the small bag from an inner pocket inside his robe and enlarged it. A large bag containing Lily’s nappies, food, favorite blanket and stuffed toy grew on the floor and he pushed it with his foot so that it was close by.



He waited impatiently for Kreacher to bring the meal and leave. Hermione ignored the mound of watercress and cucumber sandwiches at her elbow while she perused the papers she had with her. Harry busied himself trying to feed Lily her dish of strained peas and carrots.



“You have to understand, Harry, that these documents relate to laws that are hundreds of years old. I couldn’t always take the originals with me. So I copied the parts that are relevant.”



“And all of these…?” he asked, nodding at the mound of parchments.



“Are relevant,” she replied. She shrugged at his chagrined look. It would take ages to get through all this.



“The Unbreakable Vow is, unfortunately, unbreakable. You can’t violate it without losing your magic.”



“Would that be so bad? I’ve lived without magic for 11 years of my life. Heck, I could do without it forever if I had to.” He could move to Muggle London or even farther abroad. The notion had appeal. Best of all, it was unlikely Snape would follow. The man would dread being without the protection of his magic; Harry was sure of that.



“But there’s not just you to consider, Harry,” she said gently, nodding towards Lily. “You still have enemies out there, people who wanted Voldemort to succeed and aren’t too happy about the fact that you killed him. They might take out their anger on your children if they can’t get to you.”



“I suppose.” Truth be told, he wasn’t worried about enemies, not the way Snape was. But Hermione was right. While the majority of the Wizarding World was grateful to him, there were those who would just as easily want him to disappear or conveniently dead. There were members of the Ministry who weren’t entirely sure that Harry Potter didn’t want to seize power for himself or become another Dark Lord. It was yet another reason for taking a humble job like supervising the orphanage.



“So what’s the rest of the news?” he said, while wiping Lily’s mouth. She was making little bubbles at her lips and twisting her head away from her food.



“The Unbreakable Vow that Snape set up actually limits him in a lot of ways. He can’t access your bank account at Gringotts without your signed permission or spoken approval. If you haven’t had sex with him, he can’t gain entry to your other houses unless you take him with you. He can come and go at the cottage and make any changes there that he likes. But you can always change them back, if you want. Do you have wards up at the house?”



“You bet I do. I don’t want him getting near the children.”



“Well, I’m afraid he can get through them if he tries hard enough,” she said apologetically. “The cottage is his as well as yours.”



“I know. He forced himself through one of my wards a few days ago. It woke me up,” Harry groused, remembering how he’d been jolted awake by the forcible breaking of his magical security system. He’d thought them fairly strong yet Snape had broken through them as if they’d been made of tissue paper. He had therefore crafted even stronger ones on the twins’s room afterwards. Snape hadn’t made any attempts to breach these and he was keeping his fingers crossed that they’d hold if he did.



“Moving right along…” She rummaged through some papers. “If he dies from old age, accident, accidental injury or disease, then you’re automatically released from your vows. However, you can die if Snape dies through malice aforethought on your part. There are a number of deaths that carry an automatic death sentence for you if they’re deliberately inflicted by you or another party acting on your behalf.”



“Let me see.” She pushed the paper over to him and Harry squinted, trying to read the small lettering. “I could die if Snape dies by dismemberment, strangulation, smothering, being buried alive, hanging, defenestration—what’s that?”



“Being pushed through a window,” she answered absently as she peered at another sheet.



“Why couldn’t they just say that?”



She looked at him in exasperation. “I didn’t write this, Harry. Maybe it’s because they had to write everything by hand and couldn’t take time to scribble out long explanations.”



“Sorry. Just asking.” He glanced at the paper again. Arson, drawing and quartering, being burnt at the stake, flagellation, flaying, stabbing, bludgeoning, drowning, poisoning, mauling by tame animals, crucifixion, stoning, pressing… huh?



“What’s pressing?” For a moment, Harry got a bizarre mental image of Snape being laid out on a board while Aunt Petunia ran a hot iron over his ribs.



“It was an old penalty for suspected witches. A victim would be tied spread-eagled to stakes driven into the ground. A flat box would be laid on him, covering the ribs to the legs. Then everyone in the village would be told to lay a rock or stone in the box. The gradually increasing weight would eventually cause the victim’s ribcage to fall in, crushing the inner organs.” She shuddered. “It was a particularly nasty and prolonged death sentence.”



Harry was appalled. He couldn’t imagine the reason behind such a punishment. “Why?’



“The death was thought up by Muggles during the Salem witch trials. It would give the victim time to confess to witchcraft, at which point he or she would have the box removed and they could suffer a relatively swift and painless death by hanging.” She bit her lip, her face pale and stiff with anger.



No wonder the Wizarding World hid itself from Muggles. Harry hurried on with his reading. “Stretching on the rack, being shot with arrows, being shot with flaming arrows… Merlin, these people didn’t miss a trick, did they?”



“Not a lot. There’s a whole portfolio an inch thick detailing Dark Arts spells that can’t be used either.”



“Betting they didn’t put down anything about him being driven off a cliff in a car or being ground up in a cement mixer,” Harry said in an attempt to lighten the mood.



It worked. Hermione snorted in wan amusement. “Well, most of these laws and stipulations were written well before the 20th century. I guess they wouldn’t take that into account.”



“Ah, so there are ways out.” He grinned at Hermione to let her know he was kidding. “How about if he chokes on a peach pit or has a fatal allergic reaction to food, plants or bee strings or whatever?”



“The first is considered accidental. You’re free and clear. The second…well, I’m not sure if wizards and witches suffer from allergies. That’s more a Muggle thing.”



“You’re probably right. No death by bee stings for Snape, then.” Harry lifted up the paper and saw at least three more sheets of parchment beneath it, each detailing the various grisly ways in which a person could die. Swallowing his bile, he decided to go through it another time.



“Ooh!” Hermione squealed.



“What?”



“I was just reading this paper. There are benefits if you and Snape have sex during certain periods of the year.”



The queasiness was returning. “Sex? With Snape?”



A hint of red stained her cheeks. “Okay, maybe that’s not a possibility the way things stand now. But it states here that, under the bond, sex during full moons that land on solstices or certain magical holidays like All Hallows, Beltane, Midsummer Night, Lammas—the so-called Witch’s Sabbaths—could have dramatic effects on your power levels. A witch or wizard could increase their magical abilities threefold. Wow, this is exacting!” she gushed, her brown eyes lighting up as she read down the page.



“I don’t really need more power, Hermione, and I’m not looking for it,” Harry pointed out.



“No, no, of course not. I just thought you’d want to know.”



In spite of himself, Harry was curious. “Is this power surge permanent or temporary?”



“Um…it’s not quite clear on that. Afterwards, the witch or wizard could use their increased power levels to attempt spells that wouldn’t be possible under normal circumstances.”



“Well, like you said, sex isn’t a possibility right now. And the last thing I want is to increase Snape’s power over me,” Harry muttered, scowling.



“I suppose not,” she said, sympathy streaming out of her brown eyes.



“The thing is…” He hesitated to mention something so personal. It wasn’t just embarrassing but humiliating in the extreme.



“What is it?” She reached across the table and clasped his hand. “Harry, you know you can tell me anything.”



“Tell her what?”



Ron came striding in, James, Albus and Timothy clamoring behind him, no doubt hyper from the ice cream. Harry tucked away the gruesome descriptions of death under other papers. He didn’t want his children to see this. They couldn’t actually read anything this complicated, but he didn’t want to take any chances.



“We were discussing the limits of the bond. There is good news.”



“Really? Brilliant! I knew you’d come up with something ‘Mione,” Ron grinned.



She smiled back but darted her eyes at the three children listening avidly. “Um, Ron, I think Lily needs to be put to bed. Would you take her and the children up to their rooms?”



“I don’t wanna go to sleep!” Timothy protested.



“Me neither!”



“Don’t wanna!”



“We know that,” Harry soothed. “But you don’t want Lily to be by herself, do you, James, Al?”



“C’mon, kids. We can put Lily to bed and then play Exploding Snap,” Ron urged.



The boys looked mutinous for a moment. But the thrill of playing against a grown-up was too much to resist. So they pelted up the stairs, Ron following them more slowly with the sleepy Lily pressed against his shoulder.



Hermione waited until she was sure the children was out of earshot. Then she raised her eyebrows at Harry.



Harry swallowed. “Snape tried to…seduce me. He wants to get into Grimmauld Place.”



The look of horror on her face was swallowed up by outrage. “He didn’t try—?”



“No, even Snape wouldn’t go that far. But I don’t think he’s going to stop there. What are my rights under the law? I mean, how long can I keep putting him off?”



Now the brown-eyed gaze was worried and she shuffled through the papers again. “I honestly don’t know, Harry. It’s not like in the Muggle world. There, a wife has the right to refuse her husband if she doesn’t want sexual relations. But a lot of wizarding law is rather medieval and hasn’t been changed since it was first formulated. If Snape tries to—force you, you can fight back. You just can’t hurt him seriously, kill him or have any recourse to the law.” When she saw his stricken look, she added softly, “I’m really sorry, Harry.”



Harry couldn’t answer. He knew Hermione felt awful but he was too sickened to comfort her. His power was greater than Snape’s. But the man was skilled in the Dark Arts as he was not and had proved he wasn’t above playing dirty. If he truly tried to force or trick Harry, what could he do?



They resumed looking through the papers for anything that could protect him but no one would have been reassured seeing the grim looks on their faces.





TBC