Blood Bond

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Blood Bond
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Warnings for this chapter: Sexual content & language

Overall Rating: Adult ++

Pairings: Snape/Harry, Ron/Hermione (mentioned)

Author Note: Ready for one hot, steamy chapter? I’m sure you are. Just to be forewarned, I intermixed this chapter with both Harry’s and Snape’s point of view. It makes things interesting. Thanks to all those who made the effort to review and read. I appreciate all of my fellow Snape/Harry loving fans! Feel free to email me to be added to the update list: oxymoronic_leader@hotmail.com


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Part V: One Difficult Week
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One week really was not enough time to make a decision that would change the face of his life for all that was left. However, he felt that he could only really choose the one---to bond. Harry briefly remembered having the man’s hand clasping against his aroused flesh. His breathing quickened, so he tried his best to dispel the memory. Now was not the time to think about what had happened.

Despite modesty and the dire urge to throw his hands up in anger and rage, he had enjoyed every moment of it. The way Snape had slid his tongue strategically into his mouth, making sure to leave no where untouched; the hand that had clasped gently, but roughly all at the same time at his scorched flesh. Not to go to mention, Snape had made the most sinful responses to Harry’s loss of control of his own voice.

The blood rushed to his cheeks, and his hand strayed down ignoring his mind’s pleads for him to stay away. Grasping the hard erection through his trousers , he let it slide and grope trying to reciprocate the visual memory of how Snape had done it. Thinking aside, his hand groped once, twice, and then the third time it slipped beneath the material hiding it.

His lips fell open into a sigh, and he continued his jerking movements until he could feel himself close. One memory triggered. The feeling of flesh being impaled and hot liquid pooled to be swallowed. His head jerked back, and he came forcefully into his hand. He could feel the ghost of Snape’s lips on his neck even though the man himself was far from anywhere near him.

Harry kept his eyes tightly closed doing his best to ignore what he had just done. It was pathetic that he had fallen into the man’s arms in the first place; it was even more so that he touched himself just to the memory of it. Indeed, this was going to be one difficult week.

~*~

The weekend came too quickly. Only two days had passed, but Harry worried about what the weekend would bring. Both Hermione and Ron were going to be staying with the Weasleys at the Burrow, but Harry could not bring himself to leave with them. He had convinced himself that he had too much homework to finish, but deep down, he knew that only to be a diversion from his true intention.

He had battled himself the last two days, falling into the same habit of touching himself in the shower, bedroom, and even the occasional middle of the night. The memory overpowered him. Snape had been no where in sight as it had seemed he was keeping himself busily away from Harry. While it relieved Harry, he found himself yearning to be near the man. It was Snape’s bloody fault that he felt this way in the first place. The least the man could do was deal with the consequence of what he had caused.

Harry paced his room, holding a quill in one hand and one of the muggle stress balls in the other. Ron had given it to him as a gag gift from something Mr. Weasley had ‘recovered.’ He squeezed it in his hand trying to relieve some of the pressure in his chest. He cringed when he met himself face to face in an adjacent window. The mirrored self looked just as horrible as he felt. He turned away and focused on the task at hand. He sorted through his books, but it was of no use. He couldn’t concentrate. He threw the stress ball in his rage along with the quill. The two items headed opposite directions, the ball hitting the wall nearest and the quill flittering to the floor .

His own actions were driving him mad. He wanted to cry, laugh hysterically, and scream all at once. His attention span was shot with ever interval being interrupted by thoughts of Snape. His neck craved the man’s touch. He wanted nothing more than to have the man end his misery once and for all. If this is what it would be if he were to choose not to bond, he’d rather just bond. Bonding was not the problem any more. Snape was. That man had played both devil and angel; he’d switch in a moment. Harry both hated and wanted him.

Was he going insane?! This was Snape. Snarky bastard of the year! That’s why he wanted to laugh and cry hysterically. It had been easy to hate Snape, but now he could never look at the man the same way; the overflow of emotions he felt were different from what he had ever felt before. Never could he hate him with the passion he had before this.

Harry stormed out of the room, deciding that it was the room itself who was at fault for his anger. He sat on the couch with a huff and stared at the fire dancing joyfully in the hearth. Suddenly, he hated anything that looked joyful and turned away. It was sad that this was all it took for him to become cynical and miserable just like the old bastard he thought about way too much now.

He relaxed back against the arm of the couch, resting his legs up onto the cushions and closing his eyes. He breathed deeply as he did his best to calm all the rage boiling in his stomach causing it to churn and squeeze.

Before he could catch himself, he fell easily into a deep sleep. Sudden darkness lapsed over and he felt a cold breeze rush over him. Ice touching his skin, reaching beneath the layer of skin and cooling him underneath.

His lips gaped open as he breathed, seeing his own breath appear like smoke in the sky. He walked, pressing forward against the dark that surrounded him.

Voices. He could hear them off in the distance. He walked towards them keeping his arms wrapped around himself to fend off the icy cold air that seemed to radiate around him.

“Harry,” it called.

“Yes, I’m here.” Harry called out but only heard the echo of his own voice.

“Come to me, Harry” it pleaded to him.

“I am!” Harry shouted again hearing the returning echo of his own voice.

“Come to me and die…” it said in a low, malicious voice.

Harry felt the cold bite at him and a sudden flash of green struck him from the darkness. He fell to the ground his body paralyzed by the strike. He could not see body nor sky. All he could see was blackness, and he had never been so afraid then he was now.

“Die Harry Potter!”

Harry shot upright screaming into the darkness. The light from the fire warmed him and he turned to it. The clock on the mantel read eleven until midnight. He was suddenly aware of where he was. He pressed a hand to his forehead to wipe away the sweat beading and dripping down his brow. He didn’t feel alone.

Harry turned to look around and after investigating for a few minutes, decided no one was in the room. He pressed his hands against his face trying to shake off the weird dream. It seemed like he had dozed off for a few hours. Thankfully, it seemed Snape was not back yet otherwise he was sure the man would have yelled at him for falling asleep on the couch.

Harry made to stand but felt his legs wobble weakly. He was forced to sit back down. He wondered why Snape was not back yet momentarily before brushing it off and continue his stare down with the clock across from him.

“Finally awake, are we?” Harry quickly turned to see Snape walking out of his room into the light. He turned his eyes away, keeping them occupied with the flames.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“No need,” Snape drawled as he walked closer. Harry could feel the man get closer just by the pull his body felt with each step. “I’m sure there was a perfectly good reason for it.”

Harry had not truly believed that Snape was actually going to be nicer to him, but in the moment, the civility was enraging him.

“I won’t do it again.” He said with a tightly clasped jaw.

Snape stood in front of him gazing lightly at his rigidness. Harry couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down the length of his spine. The feeling from previous already taking hold over him. He stubbornly stared at the flames, however. He would not let Snape win this time.

“Really,” Snape said with a soft sigh. “How long do you intend to fight it?”

“ ‘Until the cows come home‘,” Harry quoted the old muggle saying.

Snape’s eyebrow rose as their eyes finally met. In that moment, all of the memories Harry had been dealing with came rushing back to him. He traced the thin line of Snape’s lips with his eyes, visibly taking in their chapped appearance. He then ran them along the defined cheek bones to the black, silky hair indefinitely smelling of potion ingredients until finally on the black, bottomless iris’s of said man.

It was then that Harry realized he would no longer be able to fight the pull. Snape was already making his way closer, both speaking not a word. It was Snape who touched first. Harry was forced to his feet by the hands hand underneath his chin. He stumbled, only to be pressed close and held tightly.

Harry gasped when the man immediately attached those chapped lips to the sensitive skin on his neck. Unconsciously, Harry tipped his head so that more skin would be made available. A hot, moist tongue trailed over the flesh scorching a path and leaving Harry breathlessly gasping at the air.

Harry closed his eyes feeling weak to the sensations and it was then that Snape impaled his fangs into him. Sharp pain soon turned only to pleasure. Harry cried out as Snape made to only bring him closer. Snape’s hand wrapped around the back of Harry’s head, weaving fingers into brown hair and pulling.

Harry groaned already feeling his erection pressing insistently against his trousers. It didn’t for one moment seem that Snape was feeding from him. Blood pooled into his neck before being swallowed in a slight huff.

Snape licked at the liquid meal, relishing in the pure delicious taste. He savored it, rolling it around on his tongue before consuming more. Never in his life had it felt so good to feed. It was absolutely sinful that this boy would cause this feeling of complete bliss. It was hard to ignore the quivering body in his arms. Potter was moaning, rubbing against Snape’s thigh with each brush of his tongue and suck from his lips. He could feel his own erection aching for the boy’s touch.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Snape whispered into Potter’s ear causing another gasp to leave the boy’s lips. Potter moaned and thrust his hips once more against Snape’s. That would be answer enough, Snape thought with a small smirk.

With one quick movement, Snape opened Potter’s trousers and had removed the boy’s erection. In that moment, never had he felt the urge to take the boy so powerfully. It took all of his control to only bring their erections together as he finished his meal. Potter rubbed into him, and he found his own groan leaving his lips. He’d leave taking the boy for another time since Dumbledore would have his head on a platter for defiling his Golden Boy.

Their flesh touching and the feeding were almost too much for Snape. Almost. The boy was getting close, he could feel it just beneath the layers of flesh, with every rush of sinful taste. He could taste the boy’s arousal in the red liquid. It was intoxicating and sent him reeling to finish the feed quickly. He licked the spot on Potter’s neck, closing the wound and pulled the boy closer thrusting his own erection into the other.

Velvet fire was the only way to describe what was felt in the moment the two came simultaneously. Potter arched his head backwards with a loud moan whilst Snape groaned bending forward to take those cherry lips into his own. He knew that the act of kissing was intimate, but he figured that the sin itself would be evidence enough for his miserable conscious. Knowing that he, single-handedly, had defiled and corrupted the-Boy-Who-Lived was value enough to subject himself to such torture. Of course, that is all he deemed it---torture. Secretly, and beyond a doubt, he knew he craved and wanted the boy all to himself. It was easier to see it only as another miserable step towards retribution, however.


When Harry came down from the extreme high he felt after the mind-blowing orgasm, reality almost as instantly came rushing over him. Another act, another memory to plague him until the final decision was to be made. It only served more reason for him to consciously deem himself beyond help. He was never going to be able to control his actions under these pretenses. He hated himself for it.

He stared at Snape after their lips parted and he was once more reminded of odd modesty. Sullen flesh hanging between them, he made quick work of it and righted himself. Snape seemed too controlled as he tucked himself away, unreadable as usual and left him within the moment.

No pillow talk, he though sarcastically. Pillow talk would never be something he’d connect with the man. He knew that it would never be roses and chocolates; romance would never be part of their relationship. He idly reminded himself that despite the act of intimacy experienced, it would never be a free willed action. It would always be the two reacting to feelings not easily repressed due to circumstances, destined to always plague them.

Misery would be a constant companion he was sure. However, it was no time to become pessimistic. The bonding would prove a greater tool to the defeat of Voldemort, and Harry found himself hating the way it seemed value enough to say yes---to do his ‘duty’ for the whole of the wizarding world. He would never be able to live for himself. Forever a pawn in the hands of the ministry.

~*~

As before, the two hardly spoke a word between them for the next few days while the week came to a close. Harry knew that his answer had already been decided for him. He had done his best to control his every urge to find the man and let the constant feelings consume them both. Since that night, Harry had gone over the act over and over. Against his every thought, he wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted for himself.

When the day came to give Snape his answer, he found his nerves shot and shivered each time he thought about the night. He concentrated all he could in his studies, idly making conversation with Ron and Hermione.

“You’ve been acting weird lately, mate.” Ron remarked.

“Have I?” Harry responded in a distant voice.

“Is something wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked, concern ever present on her face.

“No,” Harry said but unconvincingly.

“You never told us why Snape was looking for you last week,” Hermione added having already connected the two.

“I know,” Harry said, taking some notes down from the lecture.

“Well,” Hermione said expectantly.

“Look, I’ll tell you guys, I promise. I just can’t right now,” Harry said pleadingly. After receiving a look from Professor McGonagall, they all quieted and when the bell rang, Harry rushed away from his friends to his room. He knew he couldn’t avoid them for long, but at least for today, he needed to stay away.


The moment he entered the rooms, he was hit by darkness. He inhaled deeply and made for the living room. He caught the silhouette of Snape from the window on the far side. He stopped, holding himself protectively. Silence pursued until Snape stepped into the light and looked at Harry expectantly.

“I have given you a week,” Snape begun. “I only assume that you have arrived at a final answer.”

Harry looked at the man for a moment, his words failing him. His mind screamed at him, but he couldn’t help the thoughts dancing around. Snape looked gorgeous. His age seemed to have shorten and Harry visibly could see fair skin worth touching. Dark eyes captured his, and he was suddenly aware of the question hanging between them.

“Um, well…” Harry stuttered. “I decided to bond with you.”

It was said simply without anything additional attached, but he saw a smile form on Snape’s lips and felt he had answered well. The distance between them was closed quickly and soon Snape stood in front of him.

“It was your decision and not tainted by any other?” Snape asked though it seemed he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Harry said with a soft breath.

“Then I will alert the Headmaster and we will bond immediately,” Snape said but his voice was softer than usual. Harry looked at him like having never seen him before. Before he could stop his hand, he touched Snape’s face with the palm of his hand. It was smooth.

“How,” Harry asked without hesitation.

“The effects of feeding, Potter.” Snape sounded impatient, but he did not make to move the hand as Harry continue to touch over the silky skin. It was pleasant to his fingers, and he couldn’t stop himself from touching.

“You look younger,” Harry said more to himself. It was a marvel, and he could now recall what Ron had said that Seamus had seen.

Harry pulled away quickly after finally convincing himself that it was too intimate. “What do we have to do in order to bond?”

“The bonding process is essential and must be done exactly. I will mark you both in magic and body. The marking itself is easily done; however, it is needed to be done simultaneously in the form of intercourse.” Snape looked at Harry with a questioning gaze. Harry’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards.

“W-we have…to…have…sex?” Harry stuttered.

“Yes, in more vulgar terms,” Snape said crossing his arms against his chest. “However, it seems you have been more than ready to allow me to do so in the past.”

Harry glared at him. “Only because I was under your spell…”

Surprisingly, Snape laughed---heartily. “I was not aware I had cast one on you.”

“I read that vampires lure in victims with their eyes alone,” Harry said remembering the passage from the creature book he had checked out from the library.

“Impressive Potter. I did not take you for the reading type,” Snape said sardonically. “However, the ministry strictly forbids the use of seduction and can detect when it is used. I would not put myself at risk especially since you seem to feel drawn to me even when I am not around.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked confused.

“I can sense your feelings even when I am not around you Potter,” Snape said with a slight sigh. “It is because I’ve tasted you.”

Harry blushed visibly. “Why would that have anything to do with it?”

“Really, I had overestimated you having actually read the book,” Snape said impatiently. “Your blood runs through me. Thus, I can sense changes in your mood.”

“Oh,” Harry remarked simply.

“Although, when we bond, I will be able to do much more than that,” Snape said with a smirk.

Harry could feel the emotions begin to rush him again. It was hard not to find Snape handsome at that moment. “Oh?”

“I will not only be able to read your moods, but your thoughts and location as well. That way, if there is ever a need to get to you, I will be able to find you without hesitation.”

Harry felt oddly relieved and protected, but it passed quickly when he remembered who he was talking to.

“Yeah, but it might be better if you left me for dead,” Harry said almost in a whisper.

Snape’s eyes followed him, “If you had done your reading, you would know that a blood bond once partly severed will cause death to the other. It is vital that you and I both stay alive for the other’s sake.”

“Yeah, so that we could fulfill the ministry’s wish and defeat Voldemort,” Harry said sardonically, remorse hanging from every word.

Snape felt the boy’s anguish and realized that it seemed Potter only felt used. He didn’t blame him. The ministry and Dumbledore would use them until there was nothing left to use. However, Dumbledore held an attachment to the boy and felt protective. For a moment, so did he, but he let it pass.

“You and I would both become stronger with the bond as well,” Snape said trying to offer some kind of reassurance. Of course, he was never good when it came to making anyone feel better, certainly not himself.

A part of him yearned to take the boy into his arms and let him feel comfort in the touch. Another part of him loathed the idea of giving Potter anything that he himself would never get. So he reserved himself to just merely look upon the defeated adolescent. No comfort would be enough, he was sure.

But when those emerald eyes met his, tears brimming them, his heart suddenly throbbed. He suddenly realized how beautiful the boy looked crying. He could do his best to reassure himself of it just being a passing thought, but he had thought it many times before. How beautiful Potter looked aglow, sleeping on the couch. How beautiful Potter looked moaning, and pleading in his arms.

It was enough to drive him mad. The sudden determination that appeared in the boy’s eyes only made to make him more beautiful.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be able to teach that snake a lesson or two,” Harry said with his eyes dancing. If he was going to get anything, it would be to avenge his family and protect the dear ones he had in his life now. This would definitely be for the best.

Snape stood watching the boy for a moment before letting one small smile touch the sides of his lips. He never expected to find Potter entertaining in the least, but even he could see that despite the hurt, the boy had an amazing ability to see the good side to everything. It was something he loathed in Dumbledore. The man was positively sickening when it came to enthusiasm. Speaking of which…

“I will go contact the Headmaster,” Snape said as he turned to floo the headmaster.

Harry watched Snape for a moment before letting him think once more how handsome the man looked. He feared he was losing himself, but felt better about his decision. Snape definitely seemed different. Maybe there was a chance that one day they’d be friends…


End Note: Interesting character development. I hope you guys enjoyed it! The next chapter will be the bonding, so look forward to it!