My Fallen Angel

A/N: So many beautiful comments! You don’t even know how… worm it makes me feel. Thank You all. And comments for some, as always:
Dear Leenah, I don’t know about other countries but in mine, especially the way my Grandma does it, there is plenty in a soup to chew on =}
Dear Mad as a hatter, not as a hare, please bear in mind that the fact that I write an NC-17 story, does not necessarily mean that I like swearing. In fact I must be VERY mad to start using foul language, and even than I tend to be… creative about it. All in all, if you ever find such words in my author’s notes they will always be astericked.
And finally, Dear Absinthe, what fun would the author have, if not holding readers by the ankles over very deep cliffs? =D
This done, I have two other things.
First, this chapter was to be much longer, but since You asked so nicely and I have less time for rewriting, what with the Christmas coming up fast, I decided to post it as it is, for now. It’s only half of what it was supposed to be, so it might seem a bit short. Sorry for that.
Second, I will have a question put up at my LJ that I would want answered really badly. If You are from London or know a lot about it, please go and read it.
There is nothing more left for me to say, other than ‘Enjoy reading’ =}
Always Yours,
CV

Disclaimer: The world, characters and places used in this story belong to JKR's book Harry Potter. I have no profit from useing them.

Pairing: HP/SS

Rating: NC17


~~Chapter five~~

Harry woke up in the hospital wing. It wasn’t even two months since he’d left, making it his personal record. It was very probable that it was the schools record as well. Waking up this time wasn’t as nice as the last, though. His head was pounding, his insides played tag and something resembling lava took place of his blood. He briefly wondered if maybe Madam Pomfrey was trying to get him even for not showing respect to her work and showing up here so soon by not giving hi painkillers. It was a ludicrous thought, so he discarded it instantly. The young man took his eyes off the ceiling and cautiously looked around. His eyes met a pair of angry, black ones.

“What were you thinking?” hissed Snape furiously. “Or maybe you weren’t thinking at all? How could you have not told anybody that you’re a Vanteera? Do you even know how many possibly lethal to you ingredients you have encountered in my class only? And for that matter, why haven’t you told anyone that you’re not feeling well? Were you trying to finish what your relatives haven’t managed? In that case, I could have just left you there! Well? Speak up!” By the end of the triad Snape’s eyes were blazing.

To his horror, Harry felt his eyes go moist. He hung his head to hide it, and then, suddenly, all the muscles in his right arm started to spasm. He bit his lip hard and turned to the side to ride it out. The pain squeezed out the tears he so desperately wanted to hide. In another moment his bed was dipping in and someone was turning him to his back again. There were hands on him, massaging his arm, coaxing his muscles to calm down. Wherever the hands touched the melted iron in his veins turned back to blood and his muscles relaxed. When he was good again the hands disappeared and he almost wished for another attack to size him. A cool, almost cold thumb brushed the tears from his cheeks. Harry took a big, shuddering breath and turned to his side again. Hugging the pillow to himself he asked…

“How do you know what I am?”

“Twenty feet of wings springing from each side of your back is rather hard to miss,” snorted the man.

“Oh… At least they’re developing as they should,” mumbled Harry. “But… Dumbledore said there weren’t any Vanteeras since ages. How would you know?..”

“Ah. That gives me at least one answer. Dumbledore forbade you to tell anybody.” Harry nodded. “Meddlesome old cot… You haven’t heard that Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, sir.” A small smile tugged at Harry’s lips for a split moment before fading away.

“You are still to answer my second question, Mr. Potter.” Snape’s voice was a lot calmer but still very cold. “Why haven’t you informed somebody that you are not feeling well?”

“I… Did you know that Vanteeras’ are a mating species?” Harry longed for the pillow to swallow him.

“Yes. Is that what this is all about? I do not see how it can be relevant…”

“Yes. My mate…” The young man sighted and sat up against the headboard. “The person is in the castle. My magic reacts to my not being with… my mate when the person’s so close. There isn’t much anyone can do about it, so why should I bother someone?”

“If that is so, your magic should also tell you who your mate is.” If possible, the Potion Masters tone got even icier. “Why aren’t you with her? Or maybe she is too lowly for your standards? Not pretty enough, perhaps?”

“It’s not that. And you know I’m not like that!”

‘What is the problem then? Why are you in this state?”

“The problem is that the person is already with somebody else. The person is very important to me, was for a long time now. I can’t break their happiness.” Harry hung his head and looked at hid hands twisting in the bedclothes.

“Is it Miss Granger? If you asked me, I would say she would be much better of with you, Mr. Potter, than with Mr. Weasley.”

“What? No! It’s not her. I…”

“Who, then? Don’t tell me it’s McGonagall, I will not believe you.”

“No,” laughed Harry, despite himself.” You sort of assumed the wrong gender, anyway. I… Never mind. I want my mate to be happy. I will just have to wait it out somehow, until I’m able to kill Vol… the Dark Lord and… I don’t know… Move to Australia maybe…” Harry’s voice broke and he had to fight back tears again. Only, they wouldn’t be fought back. They slipped past his lashes and down to his cheeks. A hand was back on his face. Snape’s words could have been scathing but his touch was gentle, and Harry couldn’t resist leaning deeper into the stroking hand. His eyes closed. The skin was a bit rough, smelled like chalk, potions and strong tea. Something warm and fuzzy surrounded his mind and he felt something braking inside, like a seal being open. And then he was crying no more, purring gently instead, all thought carelessly abandoned, looking directly into the black eyes. The black eyes that were getting slowly closer, until he could look no more and had to close his… And then thin, slightly chapped, worm lips touched his. A jolt of… something cursed through Harry and he startled. Severus was backing away slowly.

“I’m sorry. I…” he managed to whisper before the younger man sealed their mouths back together. The chaste kiss was gradually getting more intense. Harry’s blood was heating up, but it wasn’t like the burning of the previous month. In stead of killing him, it was bringing him to life. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening: the brush of hair over his arms, as they found their way around Snape’s neck, the hand in his hair, just at the back of his head, bringing him incredibly closer…His thoughts run in every direction and he was appalled at his clumsiness. And then Snape’s mouth opened and a warm, mist tongue swiped lightly over his lips. Any rational thoughts Harry might have still possessed drowned in his mad purring as he let instinct take over. He let his mouth open a bit and snaked his tongue out to meet Snape’s. His hands fisted in the black robes…

“Seversus!” The sound of glass and metal hitting stone and Madam Pomfrey’s shriek broke them out of their little world. The Potions Master groaned and hid his red face in the crook between Harry’s neck and shoulder. “What are you doing?! Leave that boy alone!” she strode towards them.” To take advantage of a child in this state! I wouldn’t expect that of you!” She reached out to move him away. Harry, his brain still narrowed to Vanteera’s instincts, snapped, trying to bite her. Then he held his mate closer and started to hiss at the nurse. His hair was standing on ends, pupils narrowed into thin slits and lips curled back to show rows of razor – sharp, pinpointed teeth. The woman took a hasty step back.

“Harry…” Snape gently prayed the hands from around himself. Green eyes looked at him in confusion, silent pleading written on the devastated face. Severus felt his heart melting for maybe the first time in his life. He stroked the amazingly soft hair and tried to smile in an attempted to reassure the youth. The Vanteera slowly settled his upper body in the Potions Master’s lap, all the while regarding the nurse half distrustfully, half accusingly.

“I don’t think there was any advantage taken, Popy.”

“Albus!” the woman pivoted on her heel, one hand clasped to her heart. “How?.. When?.. What do you mean ‘no advantage taken’?!”

“I meant to say…”

“I know what you meant!” she almost shouted. “I’m asking how can you say that, when obviously…”

“Simply, my dear,” Albus put in, his blue eyes full of the unnerving twinkles. “From what I know about Vanteera’s, Severus wouldn’t be alive and breathing now, had he done this not being Harry’s mate.”

“V-v-vanteera? Mate?.. Wha… Why haven’t anyone told me? I could have lost my hand there, not to mention I could have harmed him with some of the spells I use!”

Severus sat on the bed, absent-mindedly stroking the soft hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. The mad purring from moments ago turned to soft steady rhythm. He could feel it reverberating from the young wizard’s chest, sending maddening shivers up his tights. As distracted as he was at the moment, he found it hard to think at all, not to mention rationally. He idly contemplated the last time when he let those people discuss his private life while he just sat there looking on. Try as he may, he could remember no such occasion. Not even in his days as a student. Now, though, he thought it better to keep silence.

“The separation marks are coming of. Good, good.”

“What?” Popy looked Harry’s way and Snape followed her line of vision, morbidly marvelling at the fact that he actually saw the day when Popy Pomfrey, the nurse of more than seventy years standing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, didn’t know what was wrong with her patient. He gasped softly when he finally looked at the creature, presently sleeping unperturbed in his lap. The black, panda – like marks on his eyes got paler by the moment, living only faint shadows in their wake. The cheeks became fuller, now only slightly more on the thin side then normally, and the skin lost its sickly, ashen paleness. He still looked a bit underfed and not rested enough, but positively not tittering on the verge of death.

“Severus.” Snape slowly met Dumbledore’s eyes. The tone of voice clearly said that it wasn’t the first time his superior was trying to gain his attention. “I think you should take Harry here to your rooms.” Severus missed the look in Popy’s eyes completely. “He is visibly better, but he will need your closeness, if he is to regain all his strength. And I think you have a lot to talk about, don’t you, my boy?”

The man just nodded, his mind in too big a turmoil for fights and sarcastic remarks. He lifted the sleeping Vanteera in his arms.

“And Severus?” Albus voice reached him when he was at the door.

He half turned. “Yes?”

“Take the floo. The lessons have already ended.”