Until Life Escapes Us
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,197
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,197
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Mine Only
--------------------------
Until Life Escapes Us
--------------------------
Chapter Three: Mine Only
--------------------------
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not my idea and here out should not be thought so.
--------------------------
Warning: This story will in the future contain slash, so be warned. This chapter will contain sexual situations so be further warned.
--------------------------
Harry couldn’t move his mouth, and certainly his mind had stopped mid-stream. Without the excuse, he ran, ran as fast as his legs would carry him, leaving a surprised potion’s professor in his path.
Severus was too astonished to move a muscle and take after the fleeing Gryffindor; he merely stood then, mouth gaped and eyes widened. Though, his anger soon returned as he thought back on everything. Potter had seemed extremely upset over the whole ordeal and left in a frightened pace across the hall to return to his rooms. Something was uneasy and made Severus cringe at the thought of another hurting Ha-Potter.
He looked down the hall once more, taking note of the darkness that seemed to creep over every corner and finally left, heading for his private quarters to think the situation through, thoroughly.
~*~
Harry took in huge amounts of air as he ran down the hall and up the stairs to slowly make his way to the familiar Lady of the painting covering the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
“Lemon snaps,” he whispered at the lady, who swung open uncovering the hole that led into the rooms. He rushed past the dark common room and up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. After successfully sneaking into the room, and pulling his pajamas on, he slipped into the bed and peered up at the ceiling, a blur without his glasses.
Darkness was his only friend as well as the silence that ensued with that pitched blurry ceiling that hung almost five feet overhead him. He fidgeted slightly beneath the warm protection of his comforter, that was striped red and gold in strategically played patterns.
What exactly had happened this night, he asked thoughtfully to himself, his eyes tracing over worn areas of the ceiling ahead. Did he simply dream it all? Though, he now felt as though it had been sleep that over took him all this while. His memory slowly ebbed of any memories that were of that night and he finally decided everything to be a simple dream.
~*~
“HARRY! Merlin, you are impossible,” was the high pitched voice echoing in his ears. Ah yes, Ron. He peered out through slits that now formed on his eyes. His mouth was dry of any moisture and his whole body ached in sequence. First his legs were shifted and sore, then his waist and head throbbed with uncomfortable pulses that made him close his eyes in pain.
“Ahhnn…” He cried out, his hand protecting his throbbing stomach, but also allowing no chance for an easy curl in defense. Ron peered over the sheets of protection, watching the pain-stricken face wrinkle and tightened. He rushed out of the room, calling for anyone that heard to get the med-witch, Poppy.
A rush of feet shuffled in through the Gryffindor boy’s rooms, crowding over to Harry who was now trying to control his breathing with great gasps, allowing more oxygen into his lungs. The pain was striking any cell that it came within range of and making the boy once more cry out in desire for relief.
“Out of my way, the boy needs medicine.” Poppy appeared just above Harry, her eyes gentle, as they always were yet a hint of worry crept into the masked pupils. She looked over her shoulder, uneasily searching the area. Finally, she brought a slightly purple liquid to Harry’s lips, allowing him the chance to breathe before issuing an order to drink the substance.
Harry let out a soft moan as the liquid relieved part of the pain, allowing yet another chance to breathe sufficiently. When he looked up, he noticed that everyone around him had gone quiet, their eyes widened and some looked as if they were about to laugh.
“Everyone out!” she gasped as the silent chuckles arose from the crowd hovering over his bed. Harry was left to confusion as he watched everyone usher out of the room, whispering amongst them and laughing every now and then.
Poppy returned; her face was now completely different than before Harry had taken the liquid. “Mr. Potter, would you please explain to me how you received such a mark?” she asked after finally gathering her thoughts although, Harry hadn’t completely gathered his own, staring at her in pure confusion over the situation.
She sighed out heavily in frustration and brought a mirror to his neck, the place where in his dream he had been kissed and sucked by Professor Tripe. On his neck was a black mark that formed in the shape of a symbol that Harry had never in his life seen. The mark held a signature of two names, but they were in a different language. A dagger held them together, surrounded by a crest symbol that shaped in what looked like a snake.
Poppy looked at him, her eyes furious, more so than he had ever experienced from her in the past six years. “That right there is a bonding crest, one in which must be preformed with the exchange of blood at one specified point. This bond is not usually used today since it can be forced on another person. To be honest, it has be outlawed, Mr. Potter.” She looked at him once more, her eyes now softening a bit.
“Do you know of anyone in the past three days that might have preformed such a thing?” This time, her voice came out pleadingly and her weight shifted, as if uncomfortable with the situation herself.
Harry was struck stupid. His eyes were widened with awe, yet flaring with anger. How could he do such a thing?? The words spoken played over and over in his head, ‘You will be mine, Potter.’ Harry remembered that the man’s voice the whole time was speaking in below a whisper, but couldn’t recognize anything to be understood as words. He shifted his eyes quickly, looking at Poppy with newly formed tears.
“It was --,” he couldn’t speak the man’s name. He tried to force the words out of his throat, to relieve this curse, but he couldn’t push the name from his lips. “It- I-,” he watched her eyes sadden a bit, watching him struggle to tell her the name of his captor.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Potter, that I must speak with the Headmaster. I will return with him soon to discuss this unfortunate event.” She left the room in a rush and left Harry to ponder what had just happened. Of all things, he was now bonded to his DADA professor. What did being bonded to someone mean, he wondered.
Severus walked into the room, his eyes threateningly malevolent as he watched the boy on the bed. He had just heard word of the bond in which Ha—Potter had received and his mind was in a rush to find out who had done this to Har—Potter.
“WHO WAS IT?” his eyes flared and he was immediately at the boy’s side. Harry looked up at Snape, his eyes depressed with tears and he simply shook his head, regretting the brisk walk he had taken the night before. He watched his professor’s eyes turn dangerous.
“Well, Mr. Potter?” He looked at Potter’s neck and noticed the black crest now inscribed there. He had never in his life seen the crest now permanently pressed on the Golden-Boy’s neck. He did, however, recognize the bond in which it represented. Only skilled wizards were able to perform such a bond, but how they did it was even more interesting.
“Professor? I…I’m sorry,” Harry spoke softly, his eyes now focused below his nervous fingers. He wanted to cry out, and somehow remove the symbol from his neck, but he knew that it couldn’t be done.
Severus sighed out, moving to where the door was handled and stored, screwed into the wall with the heavy oak wood. “Such a shame, Potter. You should have been a bit more careful. Wouldn’t think the-boy-who-lived to paddle along with such a filthy crowd, let alone a male one.” He left the room, his blood boiling over with a sudden need to kill something, or maybe even a certain someone.
~*~
Vincent smirked slightly, hearing the other professor’s talk openly about the bond placed on their precious Harry Potter. He felt the sudden satisfaction of knowing that the talented curse was done by yours truly, Professor Tripe. ‘How Lord Voldemort would envy my place; to see that Harry was now mine only, for the rest of eternity. The withered old coot needs to better prepare himself for more than just one fight,’ he thought happily in his mind.
Vincent, long since graduated from Hogwarts, gained his fame from his well-known family- all of which were Slitherin. He became powerful, under his studies of darker magic and withholding great power, being pure-blooded. Through out the years, his goal had become to exterminate Voldemort, as well as those whom were Muggle-born or Muggles themselves. Harry Potter had become an obsession, a need, even a desire.
His goal from there out was to gain the boy and use him in his quest for overthrowing Voldemort and becoming the ultimate Dark Lord. Simple fantasies such as this prove to be weak by many others, but they were not Vincent Tripe. He had his own followers at this point, most taking up profession in the Ministry of Magic, spying on cases that seemed to be of use to Vincent, as well as getting him into situations that in turn would prove to be useful.
The bond that he had placed on Harry was one of great power; a curse that he had to say took him a while to master. The bond would meld in with the substance of blood, creating the after affect of pain that ebbed the morning after the bond was placed. The person there after would be manipulated and molded into what the owner, Vincent, wanted. Harry Potter, being the powerful young and handsome wizard, was now his partner in his path to overthrow Voldemort and all those who opposed him.
Years of mastering spells and creating potions to improve stamina and power proved successful going into his seventh year of study. He had created an Orb that would tell of targets within perimeters he himself watched.
Harry Potter was the last step to his checklist, if you could call it that. The time would come when he would defeat Voldemort and take control of the Wizarding world. ((Sounds cheesy enough)).
~*~
A/N: Part two will come soon, so I stay tuned.
Until Life Escapes Us
--------------------------
Chapter Three: Mine Only
--------------------------
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not my idea and here out should not be thought so.
--------------------------
Warning: This story will in the future contain slash, so be warned. This chapter will contain sexual situations so be further warned.
--------------------------
Harry couldn’t move his mouth, and certainly his mind had stopped mid-stream. Without the excuse, he ran, ran as fast as his legs would carry him, leaving a surprised potion’s professor in his path.
Severus was too astonished to move a muscle and take after the fleeing Gryffindor; he merely stood then, mouth gaped and eyes widened. Though, his anger soon returned as he thought back on everything. Potter had seemed extremely upset over the whole ordeal and left in a frightened pace across the hall to return to his rooms. Something was uneasy and made Severus cringe at the thought of another hurting Ha-Potter.
He looked down the hall once more, taking note of the darkness that seemed to creep over every corner and finally left, heading for his private quarters to think the situation through, thoroughly.
~*~
Harry took in huge amounts of air as he ran down the hall and up the stairs to slowly make his way to the familiar Lady of the painting covering the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
“Lemon snaps,” he whispered at the lady, who swung open uncovering the hole that led into the rooms. He rushed past the dark common room and up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. After successfully sneaking into the room, and pulling his pajamas on, he slipped into the bed and peered up at the ceiling, a blur without his glasses.
Darkness was his only friend as well as the silence that ensued with that pitched blurry ceiling that hung almost five feet overhead him. He fidgeted slightly beneath the warm protection of his comforter, that was striped red and gold in strategically played patterns.
What exactly had happened this night, he asked thoughtfully to himself, his eyes tracing over worn areas of the ceiling ahead. Did he simply dream it all? Though, he now felt as though it had been sleep that over took him all this while. His memory slowly ebbed of any memories that were of that night and he finally decided everything to be a simple dream.
~*~
“HARRY! Merlin, you are impossible,” was the high pitched voice echoing in his ears. Ah yes, Ron. He peered out through slits that now formed on his eyes. His mouth was dry of any moisture and his whole body ached in sequence. First his legs were shifted and sore, then his waist and head throbbed with uncomfortable pulses that made him close his eyes in pain.
“Ahhnn…” He cried out, his hand protecting his throbbing stomach, but also allowing no chance for an easy curl in defense. Ron peered over the sheets of protection, watching the pain-stricken face wrinkle and tightened. He rushed out of the room, calling for anyone that heard to get the med-witch, Poppy.
A rush of feet shuffled in through the Gryffindor boy’s rooms, crowding over to Harry who was now trying to control his breathing with great gasps, allowing more oxygen into his lungs. The pain was striking any cell that it came within range of and making the boy once more cry out in desire for relief.
“Out of my way, the boy needs medicine.” Poppy appeared just above Harry, her eyes gentle, as they always were yet a hint of worry crept into the masked pupils. She looked over her shoulder, uneasily searching the area. Finally, she brought a slightly purple liquid to Harry’s lips, allowing him the chance to breathe before issuing an order to drink the substance.
Harry let out a soft moan as the liquid relieved part of the pain, allowing yet another chance to breathe sufficiently. When he looked up, he noticed that everyone around him had gone quiet, their eyes widened and some looked as if they were about to laugh.
“Everyone out!” she gasped as the silent chuckles arose from the crowd hovering over his bed. Harry was left to confusion as he watched everyone usher out of the room, whispering amongst them and laughing every now and then.
Poppy returned; her face was now completely different than before Harry had taken the liquid. “Mr. Potter, would you please explain to me how you received such a mark?” she asked after finally gathering her thoughts although, Harry hadn’t completely gathered his own, staring at her in pure confusion over the situation.
She sighed out heavily in frustration and brought a mirror to his neck, the place where in his dream he had been kissed and sucked by Professor Tripe. On his neck was a black mark that formed in the shape of a symbol that Harry had never in his life seen. The mark held a signature of two names, but they were in a different language. A dagger held them together, surrounded by a crest symbol that shaped in what looked like a snake.
Poppy looked at him, her eyes furious, more so than he had ever experienced from her in the past six years. “That right there is a bonding crest, one in which must be preformed with the exchange of blood at one specified point. This bond is not usually used today since it can be forced on another person. To be honest, it has be outlawed, Mr. Potter.” She looked at him once more, her eyes now softening a bit.
“Do you know of anyone in the past three days that might have preformed such a thing?” This time, her voice came out pleadingly and her weight shifted, as if uncomfortable with the situation herself.
Harry was struck stupid. His eyes were widened with awe, yet flaring with anger. How could he do such a thing?? The words spoken played over and over in his head, ‘You will be mine, Potter.’ Harry remembered that the man’s voice the whole time was speaking in below a whisper, but couldn’t recognize anything to be understood as words. He shifted his eyes quickly, looking at Poppy with newly formed tears.
“It was --,” he couldn’t speak the man’s name. He tried to force the words out of his throat, to relieve this curse, but he couldn’t push the name from his lips. “It- I-,” he watched her eyes sadden a bit, watching him struggle to tell her the name of his captor.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Potter, that I must speak with the Headmaster. I will return with him soon to discuss this unfortunate event.” She left the room in a rush and left Harry to ponder what had just happened. Of all things, he was now bonded to his DADA professor. What did being bonded to someone mean, he wondered.
Severus walked into the room, his eyes threateningly malevolent as he watched the boy on the bed. He had just heard word of the bond in which Ha—Potter had received and his mind was in a rush to find out who had done this to Har—Potter.
“WHO WAS IT?” his eyes flared and he was immediately at the boy’s side. Harry looked up at Snape, his eyes depressed with tears and he simply shook his head, regretting the brisk walk he had taken the night before. He watched his professor’s eyes turn dangerous.
“Well, Mr. Potter?” He looked at Potter’s neck and noticed the black crest now inscribed there. He had never in his life seen the crest now permanently pressed on the Golden-Boy’s neck. He did, however, recognize the bond in which it represented. Only skilled wizards were able to perform such a bond, but how they did it was even more interesting.
“Professor? I…I’m sorry,” Harry spoke softly, his eyes now focused below his nervous fingers. He wanted to cry out, and somehow remove the symbol from his neck, but he knew that it couldn’t be done.
Severus sighed out, moving to where the door was handled and stored, screwed into the wall with the heavy oak wood. “Such a shame, Potter. You should have been a bit more careful. Wouldn’t think the-boy-who-lived to paddle along with such a filthy crowd, let alone a male one.” He left the room, his blood boiling over with a sudden need to kill something, or maybe even a certain someone.
~*~
Vincent smirked slightly, hearing the other professor’s talk openly about the bond placed on their precious Harry Potter. He felt the sudden satisfaction of knowing that the talented curse was done by yours truly, Professor Tripe. ‘How Lord Voldemort would envy my place; to see that Harry was now mine only, for the rest of eternity. The withered old coot needs to better prepare himself for more than just one fight,’ he thought happily in his mind.
Vincent, long since graduated from Hogwarts, gained his fame from his well-known family- all of which were Slitherin. He became powerful, under his studies of darker magic and withholding great power, being pure-blooded. Through out the years, his goal had become to exterminate Voldemort, as well as those whom were Muggle-born or Muggles themselves. Harry Potter had become an obsession, a need, even a desire.
His goal from there out was to gain the boy and use him in his quest for overthrowing Voldemort and becoming the ultimate Dark Lord. Simple fantasies such as this prove to be weak by many others, but they were not Vincent Tripe. He had his own followers at this point, most taking up profession in the Ministry of Magic, spying on cases that seemed to be of use to Vincent, as well as getting him into situations that in turn would prove to be useful.
The bond that he had placed on Harry was one of great power; a curse that he had to say took him a while to master. The bond would meld in with the substance of blood, creating the after affect of pain that ebbed the morning after the bond was placed. The person there after would be manipulated and molded into what the owner, Vincent, wanted. Harry Potter, being the powerful young and handsome wizard, was now his partner in his path to overthrow Voldemort and all those who opposed him.
Years of mastering spells and creating potions to improve stamina and power proved successful going into his seventh year of study. He had created an Orb that would tell of targets within perimeters he himself watched.
Harry Potter was the last step to his checklist, if you could call it that. The time would come when he would defeat Voldemort and take control of the Wizarding world. ((Sounds cheesy enough)).
~*~
A/N: Part two will come soon, so I stay tuned.