Bonds of Affection
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
79
Views:
101,973
Reviews:
550
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
6
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
79
Views:
101,973
Reviews:
550
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
6
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.
Unwelcome Revelations
Author's Note: Events in this story take place right after Order of Phoenix. This is AU that ignores HBP and DH.
In this story, Snape is 38, and Harry, 16... and yes, it's a story about a sexual Master/slave relationship between the two. Angst, BDSM, Slavery, Hurt/Comfort...
* * *
Just one week before the beginning of the summer holidays, in the office of Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter sat on the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. He breathed deeply, trying to relax, but felt more and more nervous every moment.
“What can I do for you, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly, lifting his head. His face held the usual benign expression, and his eyes twinkled mischeviously and warmly.
“We need to talk,” Harry said quietly and firmly.
“I thought you might to,” Dumbledore conceded kindly. “For what its worth, Harry – I am dreadfully sorry about all you had to go through this year...”
Harry nodded. “I know. I am not blaming you. You did what you thought was best... But I want things to be different.”
Dumbledore looked at him quizzically. “In what way?”
“From now on, I want the truth. Always.”
“Harry,” Dumbledore said softly. “I have never lied to you...”
“I know that,” Harry cut him off. His stomach lurched at the realization that he was arguing with his mentor... his hero.. his icon... but he continued speaking, quickly and hurriedly, afraid that if he hesitated, he would lose the momentum. “Look – Headmaster. You don't lie to me. But you don't tell me the entire truth right away, either. I want this to change. I want to know everything that you know that concerns me – immediately. I don't want you telling me to ignore dreams and visions and voices that obviously mean something. I don't want you avoiding me to protect me without an explanation. Even if you don't think you know something for sure – even if it's only a guess, I'd still like to know.”
Dubmledore surveyed him thoughtfully.
“I don't mind fighting, or taking risks, or even dying,” Harry said quietly. “But if I do, I want to know why... I want to know all of my life, and all of the forces at play in it... is that too much to ask?”
Harry almost swore inwardly. He had made an idiot out of himself, and he would never live this down, he thought. But Dumbledore's serene, accepting gaze reassured him.
“Not at all, Harry,” the Headmaster said quietly. “Very well... that can be arranged.”
“Thank you,” Harry said sincerely. He stood up, about to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him.
“Perhaps we should begin immediately,” Dumbledore said. “One piece of information is just a guess – another, is a hard fact. If you are ready – that is....”
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Harry said confidently.
He was wrong.
. . .
Two hours later, he met up with Ron and Hermione in the library.
“How did it go?” Ron blurted out instantly. Hermione was quiet, but Harry could see that she was as curious as he was.
“It went well,” Harry said with forced calm. “He agreed...”
“What did he tell you?” Hermione demanded instantly. “I can tell that you are hiding something. Something big. Tell us.”
Harry shook his head. “Later.”
“Not later, Harry,” Hermione whispered vehemently. “Now. We are in this together – remember?”
“Fine,” Harry said barely audibly. “Keep your voices down, and try not to freak. Dumbledore has less than a year left to live. He touched something that poisoned him. There is no cure. And as for Voldemort – Dumbledore's guess is that I am his Horcrux.”
“What's a Horcrux?” Ron asked. His face paled noticably, making his freckles stand out even more.
Hermione did not ask what Horcruxes were. She just sat down weakly on the nearest chair, and hugged her body with both arms.
“Harry... what are we going to do now?” she asked miserably. “That means...”
“I know what it means, Hermione,” Harry said quietly. “But don't stress over it too much just yet. It's not like the world will end tomorrow if we don't figure it all out today.”
In retrospect, he was right.
The world ended two days later.
In this story, Snape is 38, and Harry, 16... and yes, it's a story about a sexual Master/slave relationship between the two. Angst, BDSM, Slavery, Hurt/Comfort...
* * *
Just one week before the beginning of the summer holidays, in the office of Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter sat on the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. He breathed deeply, trying to relax, but felt more and more nervous every moment.
“What can I do for you, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly, lifting his head. His face held the usual benign expression, and his eyes twinkled mischeviously and warmly.
“We need to talk,” Harry said quietly and firmly.
“I thought you might to,” Dumbledore conceded kindly. “For what its worth, Harry – I am dreadfully sorry about all you had to go through this year...”
Harry nodded. “I know. I am not blaming you. You did what you thought was best... But I want things to be different.”
Dumbledore looked at him quizzically. “In what way?”
“From now on, I want the truth. Always.”
“Harry,” Dumbledore said softly. “I have never lied to you...”
“I know that,” Harry cut him off. His stomach lurched at the realization that he was arguing with his mentor... his hero.. his icon... but he continued speaking, quickly and hurriedly, afraid that if he hesitated, he would lose the momentum. “Look – Headmaster. You don't lie to me. But you don't tell me the entire truth right away, either. I want this to change. I want to know everything that you know that concerns me – immediately. I don't want you telling me to ignore dreams and visions and voices that obviously mean something. I don't want you avoiding me to protect me without an explanation. Even if you don't think you know something for sure – even if it's only a guess, I'd still like to know.”
Dubmledore surveyed him thoughtfully.
“I don't mind fighting, or taking risks, or even dying,” Harry said quietly. “But if I do, I want to know why... I want to know all of my life, and all of the forces at play in it... is that too much to ask?”
Harry almost swore inwardly. He had made an idiot out of himself, and he would never live this down, he thought. But Dumbledore's serene, accepting gaze reassured him.
“Not at all, Harry,” the Headmaster said quietly. “Very well... that can be arranged.”
“Thank you,” Harry said sincerely. He stood up, about to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him.
“Perhaps we should begin immediately,” Dumbledore said. “One piece of information is just a guess – another, is a hard fact. If you are ready – that is....”
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Harry said confidently.
He was wrong.
. . .
Two hours later, he met up with Ron and Hermione in the library.
“How did it go?” Ron blurted out instantly. Hermione was quiet, but Harry could see that she was as curious as he was.
“It went well,” Harry said with forced calm. “He agreed...”
“What did he tell you?” Hermione demanded instantly. “I can tell that you are hiding something. Something big. Tell us.”
Harry shook his head. “Later.”
“Not later, Harry,” Hermione whispered vehemently. “Now. We are in this together – remember?”
“Fine,” Harry said barely audibly. “Keep your voices down, and try not to freak. Dumbledore has less than a year left to live. He touched something that poisoned him. There is no cure. And as for Voldemort – Dumbledore's guess is that I am his Horcrux.”
“What's a Horcrux?” Ron asked. His face paled noticably, making his freckles stand out even more.
Hermione did not ask what Horcruxes were. She just sat down weakly on the nearest chair, and hugged her body with both arms.
“Harry... what are we going to do now?” she asked miserably. “That means...”
“I know what it means, Hermione,” Harry said quietly. “But don't stress over it too much just yet. It's not like the world will end tomorrow if we don't figure it all out today.”
In retrospect, he was right.
The world ended two days later.