Rating: PG13 - NC17
Summary: Ten years have passed and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny have done nothing but perfect their skills in preparation for their final battle with Voldemort. None of them expected they would run into Snape, let alone did they foresee the price he would demand for his teachings. Well, nobody except maybe Ginny.
Warnings: Blood. Male/Male sexual situations. Language. Rimming. Violence.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based in the world created by J.K.Rowling. They aren't mine and I make no money from them. No toes were intentionally stepped on.
Author's notes: Yet another vampire!bonding!fic that every vampire fanatic must write. What can I say, I love vampire fics. Written prior to Deathly Hallows during NaNoWriMo 2006. Spoilers for all books prior but no intended references to the final book. Thanks so much to asrai99 who has reviewed my story! You are amazing. All mistakes are mine and by all means, let me know if you find any.
Word count: Approximately 3,000 of a total of 55,000
Young Immortals - All Chapters
One by one the four students trickled back to the manor. Ginny arrived first, followed by Ron, Hermione and finally, hours after he'd gone out on the task, Harry, who was still plucking sticks out of his hair.
"How did you get back so quickly?" he asked, exasperated. He dusted off the knees of his jeans and then pulled a magically bound mochit out from his shirt pocket, its eyes wide with terror.
"What did you do to your poor mochit, Harry? You bully." Ginny reached out and petted its stiff fur.
"What! How did you catch yours, then?" he asked.
Ginny propped open her jacket pocket and Harry looked in to see two beady eyes staring back. A small, questioning squeak emerged from the depths.
"Wha… the hell?" Harry stuttered in shock.
"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar," Ginny said, giggling.
"This is another of those chair leg moments, isn't it?" Ron asked. He also had a magically bound creature. Hermione had her mochit in a small wire cage warded against teleportation.
Ginny laughed again. "You do know that mochits are sensitive to kind words and have a sweet tooth? Do your research boys." She pulled out some dried fruit and fed it to the little critter in her pocket, clicking softly at it. After moments of insanely sickening cuteness, she stood with a smirk and went looking for Severus.
"Yep," Harry said with a smile, "chair leg."
They followed Ginny around, looking for their Mentor of the Month—perhaps for longer this time—to let him know they'd finished his assignment. They found him in his usual room, sitting in his usual chair, looking flush and vibrant, yet deeply distracted.
In single file they entered the room; he turned his face them. Under hooded brows, Harry couldn't quite see his eyes, brewing within him a sense that something wasn't right.
"We caught our mochits, Severus," Hermione handed him her cage with the frightened little creature scampering around inside. Ron handed him his petrified mochit and Harry handed his over as well.
"Shall I let them go, sir?" Ginny asked, petting hers where it sat on her cradled arm. Its pointed nose was burrowing into her elbow seeking out a raisin.
Snape shook his head. "No, I need them for a potion," he said.
"What? You can't kill these sweet, little creatures." Ginny was aghast and she cradled her rodent closer to her chest, giving Snape a look like she'd discovered he mauled young children for fun.
"I'll just take some blood." From Ginny's gasp, he shook his head in annoyance. "Not for my own personal use, so don't give me that look. They will be released, after I am done with them." He returned his gaze to the fire.
"Oh, fine." She handed over her mochit, who scurried under the neckline of Snape's robes and the four laughed loudly to watch their stern Professor squirm. It took many minutes for him to finally catch the scurrying creature.
"You look good today," Harry finally said after the mochit was under control.
Severus glared at Harry.
"Just pointing out…" he let the words fall. Obviously this was one of many taboo subjects. "So, what next?"
"I must withdraw the blood from the mochits and then preserve it for future potion's use. I don't suppose any of you wish to join me?" he asked while standing, a stern gaze directed at them down his long nose.
"I will, sir," Ginny offered, eagerly raising a hand into the air. Harry wondered if she volunteered to keep an eye on Severus or an eye on how he treated the mochits.
"Very well, come with me." He and Ginny left for the basement laboratory.
"Why do you think Snape looks so good?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione.
"I assume he fed on someone else while we were gone," Hermione said as they walked through the foyer towards the hallway that led to the library. Light shone down upon them from brilliantly enhanced candle chandeliers lining the walkways.
"Why? Jealous?" Ron goaded.
Harry glared at Ron. "Of course not… Just, who do you think he fed from? There isn't anyone out here… the place is impossible to come upon. You heard Gabriella."
"Who knows. He must have traveled to town to feed. He better be careful, the last thing he needs is a mob with pitch forks seeking out the evil monster in the mountains," Ron said with a little too much glee.
"Oh come on now. Severus isn't stupid enough to get caught. He hid as a spy in Voldemort's army for how long?" Hermione pointed out. "But he could have an entirely different problem. If we assume he doesn't have many choices, whether he goes to town or not, he has to make sure he doesn't feed from one person too often."
Harry jolted to a halt and squeaked out, "Why?"
"Oh please, Harry. Remember back in Hungary two years ago where we fought that vampire who'd lost all his sanity? We studied vampires extensively for that case." Her eyebrows rose and she slowly rocked her head, prompting him to remember some tiny bit of esoteric knowledge that she could easily remember like it happened yesterday, but he had to drudge up with a backhoe. His backhoe failed him.
Walking again, he said, "Well, yeah, but I didn't study his feeding habits." A flock of geese accompanied them, flying through one portrait to the next, honking quietly.
Hermione sighed the sigh of the weary. "If a vampire feeds from someone too often they develop a blood joining, a bond."
"A bond? Like a marriage bond?"
"No, more like a mental connection than anything like that."
"I'm sure Snape knows about this, being a vampire and all, and wouldn't put himself in sway to anyone," Ron said.
"Well yes, but he doesn't seem to be a very… well let's just say it doesn't seem like he's taken to his vampire life and finding out about that bond took a ton of research." She tugged open the door to the library and they continued to the corner under the huge stained-glass window that they'd claimed as their own. "An uninformed vampire might even feed from the same person over and over if the victim proved to be a willing or easy target. It isn't something everyone knows unless you study vampires in depth. They are fairly rare and all; not your run-of-the-mill dark creature," Hermione tried to convince them. "So, he might not know," she ended lamely.
Tucking the mochits into shielded cages, Severus prepared his tools to withdraw their blood. Ginny stood close by, watching his every move.
"Do you mind?" Severus scowled at her. But that young first year who would squeal and run away had long since grown into this self-confident young woman, who only grinned at him, taking a minute step back.
"I just want to watch your procedure, sir," she said. "I've never worked with mochit blood. Do you ever have problems controlling yourself around spilled blood, sir?"
She asked her intrusive question so casually that Severus almost automatically answered. However, he wasn't that far removed from his ever present vigilance. "Miss Weasley, I do believe anything involving a personal nature on my part is really none of your business." He bristled and pulled out a thin crystal pipette and some glass vials from the middle drawn at the counter. The girl hadn't left, hadn't even seemed flustered by his harshly spoken words.
He stunned Hermione's mochit, removed it from the cage and laid it upon the black marble counter top. He joined the glass tube to the animal's neck with a small string of magic that tapped the vein and drew a tiny amount of blood into the vial. Ginny watched closely, face impassive as he stopped the blood flow, returned the mochit and performed the same procedure on the next. When he finally finished he had four small vials of blood. Its smell tickled his nose and he inhaled deep only to cease immediately when he noticed the girl watching him.
"Why did you need those crystal tubes, Severus? Couldn't you just draw the blood with the simple profactus spell and not worry about the implement?" Ginny asked.
"I am using the blood in a potion designed to enable the drinker to phase in and out of space, quickly and spontaneously for short distances."
"Ah, to distract your opponent? Quicker than an Apparate with less recharge time?" Ginny asked.
Severus stared at her. He decided to give up on shock. "Exactly. I use the crystal because…" he looked over at her, expecting her to finish his sentence.
"Because by filtering the blood through the specialized pipette, you are removing the platelets from the blood, which can thicken any type of blood-based potion that needs fast reaction, such as speed enhancing spells."
"Exactly," he said again. He walked to a large cupboard and opened it. It was well lit within, with shelves containing similar cages that once held a menagerie of small, magical creatures. He placed this new cage with the four mochits in it on the shelf second from the bottom; the magical lighting highlighted the green in their fur. Next, he dug about in a container on the floor, scooping out some formed pellets to feed the little mochits after reviving them.
"Won't you let them go, sir?" Ginny asked with mild anxiety. "If you don't need them…"
"I might need them. I am still in the experimental stage and I would be loath to relinquish my only stable supply of mochit blood. I intend them no harm, and as I said earlier, I will eventually return them to their forest." Silently, he dared her to question his word.
"Can't you just duplicate the blood with a doplurious spell?" Ginny asked, squatting down to look evenly at the cage full of mochits.
"You know that doesn't work for spell components. Unless you know something I don't—" Severus forced out between his clenched teeth.
Ginny looked up suddenly at him, eyes wide with disbelief. Then she shuddered, her entire posture changing from the previously curious girl, rolling up her spine as she stood. Milky clouds washed over her once bright eyes and her face grew slack. "The Dark One builds His power." Her tone was dry and far away and Severus immediately knew what was happening as the youngest Weasley spoke prophecy. "He builds His allies. They are His mycelium, they are His support, They are everywhere. Join with him of the power to vanquish the Dark One. Join with him and no other."
Ginny stumbled slightly, reaching out for the counter before her. She shook her head and concentrated a moment, eventually replying to the last thread of their conversation. "No, I guess I don't. I mean, you're the potion master, if it doesn't work, you would know." She smiled awkwardly and left him alone in his cold basement.
The other three sat in their usual locations in the library, Hermione settled into a new bosom buster and Ron performing his regular calisthenics. Harry lay on the floor, staring up into the intricately carved ceiling depicting scenes of ancient battles to tame this land between wizards and the darkness. One wizard, tall and gray haired with a full beard and pointed blue hat, reminded Harry of Dumbledore and he thought sadly of his old mentor.
The door burst open, pushed so hard it slammed against the wall, and Ginny stumbled in.
"I think I spoke prophecy to Snape," she rushed out. She started pacing the floor before the door. "I have no idea what I said; I can't remember anything of it… Well I think it had to do with Voldemort…" she paused for a moment, a look crossing her face that suggested she was trying to name an unknown taste on her tongue. "Yes, Voldemort. He had this completely dumfounded look on his face and I just panicked and left." Her breath was shallow as she continued to pace back and forth. "What do we do?"
"Well, why don't we just go and ask him," Hermione said, getting up from her chair, actually laying the book down on a table, propped open to save her place.
Harry watched Ginny march back and forth, her shoulders stiff and her entire body practically vibrating under the tension; then he walked up to her and wrapped her in his arms. As if every bone in her body was hit with a Jelly Legs Jinx, she slumped against him. She was always off after delivering prophecy, very scattered and almost frightened. She confided in Harry once that she hated losing control like that, unable to remember what she'd said. It reminded her too much of being possessed by Tom Riddle, of having her soul subverted.
"We can't ask him!" she said, her voice pitched high and panic overwhelming her eyes as her fingers dug into Harry's chest. "We can't just walk up to him and say "So Snape, what did Ginny just tell you when she got all spacey?" God! He'll know! He'll know about me."
"Gin." Harry soothingly petted her hair. "He probably already figured that part out. It's going to be okay. Just take a deep breath."
She pulled back and looked at him, a wild look in her eyes, and Harry thought she was going to run, run away from the manor and them, run away from this whole hunt for Voldemort, and more importantly, from her seer ability. Sometimes when the vision was so strong, even if she didn't remember anything, it triggered something inside his friend that took away her reason and self-control. Then, in the next instant, she collapsed into him and cried hot, wet tears.
Many minutes passed as the three friends kept a tight, protective circle around Ginny. Finally, her sniffling eased and she pulled back to wipe at her red eyes. "Yeah. Okay. I'm ready."
"You sure you want to come?" Ron asked.
She sniffed and swallowed. "Well, I wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor if I skated out of this one. Let's go."
The quartet left the library in search of Snape, who had vacated his basement potion's laboratory for his quiet refuge in the drawing room.
"Come in," came the soft reply as if the man had expected them. They pushed the door open quietly and entered as one unit, banding around their anxious friend. Snape sat in his usual chair but this time he was surrounded by piles of books and old scrolls.
"Uh, Professor Snape," Ginny said, falling back to old habits. "You know what I said to you tonight, it must have sounded odd… you couldn't mistake it…. Well… what did I say to you?" she asked hopefully.
"You wish to know what prophecy you spoke to me earlier?" Severus asked in a droll tone. Ginny nodded. "How long have you been a prophet, Miss Weasley?"
"Ah, it kind of developed after we finished school," she said.
"How many prophecies have you spoken since you developed this ability?" he asked, his voice low.
"Actually sir, I'm not entirely certain. I… uhh… don't always remember when I have them, and even if I do remember that I had one," she looked down at her left boot, "I don’t usually remember what I say."
"Do you ever remember what you say?" Severus asked with interest.
And Ginny, being a true Gryffindor and under interrogation by her mentor, decided to come clean. "No. Never." There was a quiet silence as Harry rubbed circles on her back. Then she said, "But I usually have a sense of what I prophesized about. And I think I told you about Voldemort."
"Ah, I see. Do you have any other sense of what you spoke of in the laboratory?"
"What?" She gaped at him. "Was it about more than Voldemort?"
Severus didn't say anything, only looked her directly in the eye in that disarming way that made even the most stoic veteran squirm.
With something almost tangible to focus on, she pulled herself up straight. Her eyes tilted up above everyone's heads and her face adopted that 'tasting' look once again. After a moment her eyes narrowed and dropped to Severus' face.
Severus' face grew even paler than normal.
"What?" Harry asked, concerned. "What did she say?" The prophecy was about him and Voldemort, and Snape was the only one who knew it. Could he trust him to tell them the truth? The man looked so thunderstruck that Harry knew it couldn't be good. But as long as it happened soon, as long as they could just get it all over with, he almost didn't care if it did develop into bad news.
Snape cleared his throat and looked up at Harry. And then he recited the prophecy.
"The Dark One builds his power. He builds his allies. They are his mycelium, they are his support, they are everywhere. Join with him of the power to vanquish the Dark One. Join with him and no other."
Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. The bottom of Harry's stomach fell into a deep, dark pit. "What does it mean?" he asked, trying to ignore the preposterously obvious reason Hermione seemed so shocked.
"Oi, Harry, even I get this one," Ron said, smacking Harry lightly on the back of his head.
The pit was endless.
"Do you mean…?"
"Harry, you have to blood join with Snape," Hermione told the room.
END BIT 6