Call of Blood

Author's Note: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm

Challenge: Harry overhears Snape talking to Dumbledore. WHAT? Snape's attracted to him?!

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Dumbledore might not be in the practice of torturing his followers with Cruciatus, or randomly killing Muggles, but he was far worse at times, Harry reflected. Slouched over the polished wood of the table, he knew that there could not be many things worse than Hogwarts' staff meetings and this was only the first before the start of the new term.

Harry sat up straight when Professor Snape entered the room. He'd noticed that the irascible Potions Master seemed to arrive for official staff functions moments before the Headmaster and was a good barometer for measuring when they would begin. As he ran a hand through his hair, trying futilely to make it lie flat, he ignored the little bit of his consciousness that reminded him he was also attracted to his fellow staff member and had been for the better part of a year.

The Headmaster breezed into the room with casualness rarely echoed by wizards his age. "Are we all ready to begin?"

The staff politely ignored the chipper statement, also neglecting to point out that they had been gathered at the scheduled time for the meeting, twenty minutes prior. Harry had asked once why and, of all people, received the response from Professor McGonagall; 'Do you think it would do any good.' He had to admit that Dumbledore did rather conduct business on his own time.

His mind having wandered, Harry wrenched his attention back to the commentary being made by his boss.

"If any of you know of someone who'd be interested in the position, please have them contact me."

Harry looked over the table in confusion, having believed that all the staff positions were full. He knew that the Headmaster had likely already explained, but had to ask anyway to get himself back on track. "What position, Sir?"

A snort of disgust from further down the table preceded the usual sarcastic commentary from the Potions Master. "Paying attention, as always, Potter."

Albus turned his attention to Harry, having noticed his distraction earlier but not thinking it quite that strong. "Severus will be leaving us for health reasons."

As the meeting continued, Harry kept his face locked into a neutral expression. Inside, his emotions were roiling. What kind of health matter couldn't be best solved at Hogwarts, especially since it involved a potions master? And why was Snape leaving him? He shook his head, unknowingly declining to chaperone the seventh year Diagon Alley field trips, as his mind corrected itself. The Professor was leaving Hogwarts, not him. And now, due to his own foolish pride and wasted time, his best opportunities to approach the man were slipping away.

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Sometime later, Harry found himself needing to talk. The issues he wanted to work through were not for the ears of his still best friends. Even if they were, Ron was occupied with Auror training and Hermione was taking a degree at an American wizarding university.

Finding himself in front of the griffin that guarded the Headmaster's office, Harry gave the password absent-mindedly. To his occupied mind, he'd merely blinked and found himself in the outer office, on the other side of a partially opened door. He wasn't completely sure that he wouldn't have strolled all the way inside and sat down if the rather loud conversation inside hadn't brought him out of his reverie.

"For the last time, I will not!"

When there was a loud conversation, it was always a fair bet that Snape was involved either as a participant or a subject. Harry smiled slightly, even through his worries, ever amazed at how the Professor could be so emotional in private and such a closed book in public.

Curious, he edged slightly towards the door, purposefully eavesdropping.

"Severus, I think you should consider this as a viable option to satisfy the condition."

A low growl of protest, then the first voice again, "There are two options, as you well know. Only two. I can fulfill the terms of the blood magic, or I can kill myself."

Harry's head pulled back in shock, his eyes widening in a way that might have been comical had anyone been there to see him.

"Are you certain that you cannot live without this ritual?"

"I could certainly continue to exist. However, without the ritual, the blood magic will force me to act."

The Headmaster sounded confused when he spoke again, "I was under the impression that there was no compulsion other than the personal change?"

A scraping sound of someone flinging themselves into a chair harshly grated in the air. "There is no compulsion should the clan member be emotionally unattached. I am, unfortunately, not."

"Ah," it was hardly the Headmaster at his most eloquent. "May I ask whom?"

There were few events that could cause Snape to be literally snappish with his mentor, but this seemed to be one of them. "How many wizards do you know that share my predilections and have a bizarre tolerance for myself?"

Dumbledore must have looked confused, Harry reflected, because he didn't hear a response.

"Your Golden Gryffindor Brat! The Man Who Defeated Voldemort that you are allowing to so mockingly waste himself teaching Muggle Studies!"

Harry leaned against the wall suddenly. He wanted to know why he wasn't in that room if this conversation was at least peripherally about him. At the same time, he knew that if he had been, nothing would have been said beyond his and Snape's traditional sniping at each other.

"I was aware that you had strong feelings for him, but rather believed they were in the other direction."

One could practically hear the sneer in the voice as Snape responded, "It's rather unprofessional to be confessing love to one's students, would you not agree, Headmaster?"

Silence in the office seeped into the outer room and Harry blinked several times in disbelief. Had Severus Snape, the man over whom he'd lost a great deal of sleep and finally acknowledged would never be interested, just told the Headmaster he was in love with him? Harry blinked again and processed this thought. It took longer than one might expect.

Finally, his face broke into a wide grin and he considered a timely entrance to the inner office.

"Harry might be more amenable to your approach than you obviously believe."

Harry shook his head at the meddlesome old coot that was currently Headmaster. He knew confessing his feelings to the man had been a good way to have someone to talk to, he just never suspected that Albus would be trying to talk Snape right into his arms.

Stepping back towards the outer doors, Harry called out, "Headmaster?"

He could hear the shuffling in the inner office and stepped to the door, pushing it open. Dumbledore was grinning at him with a very knowing twinkle in his eyes and Harry had the feeling that he had been set up.

Looking over the other occupant, he allowed his gaze to linger in a way that he would have previously forced himself to stop. "Professor. Are you well? You're looking a tad peaked."

It was the truth. Snape's argument with the Headmaster had left him looking just this side of strung out. It didn't stop him from sneering in return, his face a cold mask. "Your concern is touching, Potter."

With a nod to the Headmaster, the Potions Master swept from the room. Harry looked back at Dumbledore and took a seat with a smile.

"What's wrong with him and how can I help?"

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, never losing his grin. "Tea? Lemon Drop?"

"Yes and no, thank you."

Once they'd both been provided with china cups and the hot beverage within doctored to their needs, Harry looked expectant.

"Well?"

"What do you know about the SanguiQauy Clan?"

Harry looked confused for a moment, but resolved that he should stop expecting a direct conversation in Dumbledore's office.

"That was the clan of born vampires that backed Voldemort. Wasn't the last of them executed by the Ministry for their part in the war?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Mostly correct. As they were born, the magic is not immediately active. Those of age in the clan who practiced the blood magic were executed."

"You're telling me there are still members of a vampire clan walking free that, let me recall this correctly, swore to fertilize the land with my vital fluids."

"The clan elder would not allow such a thing to occur."

"Excuse me if I don't put much faith in that promise and keep my guard up."

The Headmaster sighed slightly. "I am well aware that our Defense teachers have been deficient over the years of your schooling, but how much information do you know about born vampires?"

Harry frowned. "A born vampire is magically and biologically a normal human until they invoke the blood magic. After doing so, they are transformed into a vampire. Most research says that this usually happens in puberty."

Dumbledore nodded, "For the pure-born, the process occurs in puberty if they are willing or not. For the half-born, it is slightly different."

"I wasn't aware it was even possible to be half-born."

"It is rare, as the male pure-born is usually required to impregnate a human witch before the blood magic change."

Harry looked mildly disgusted at the thought, but remained quiet.

"For the half-born, the blood magic can be put off with a variety of ways. It is not, however, possible to avoid this process forever."

A silent nod, as Harry still didn't get it.

Dumbledore, looking more than mildly uncomfortable, continued, "It appears that a half-born can only hold off the magic until their forty-fifth year. The magic then attempts to force the issue with grave consequences."

"What kind of consequences?"

"If the call is ignored, a blood frenzy. The magic would force the change, removing the half-born's ability to control their thirst."

Harry made another disgusted face, sipping his tea.

"The half-born would be able to permanently stop the blood magic, through a ritual connecting him to a particularly powerful wizard."

As the conversation clicked in Harry's head, his latest drink of tea was sprayed across the carpet in front of him. He raised shocked eyes to the Headmaster. "Those stories about Snape being a vampire were only rumors."

The Headmaster shrugged slightly, "They would remain so unless he invoked the blood magic and underwent the change."

Harry set the cup down before he broke the fragile porcelain. The memories, shared unwillingly during Occlumency and Legilimency lessons, of Snape's father suddenly made a whole lot more sense.

"Is he a clan member?"

"SanquiQauy."

Leaning back in the seat, Harry sighed. "My life is never going to be normal, is it?" Not having expected a response, he continued before one could be given. "Clan members are monitored by the elder. Isn't the clan going to be after his blood as well as mine if anything happens?"

A slight shake of the head and the twinkle grew brighter. "Since the Ministry retaliations, Severus is the eldest in his clan."

"And thus in charge…" Harry shook his head, his voice fading off. "I had accustomed myself to the idea that I was in love with an anti-social bastard." He stopped, putting his teacup on the desk and standing. "Albus, I don't know." He paused again, turning suddenly and leaving the office.

The Headmaster stared at the closed door for a moment before taking a deep breath. Fawkes, sensing the troubling thoughts in the aged wizard, trilled a comforting series of notes.

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When Harry left the Headmaster's office, he walked blindly in the castle. There were no students to trip over and thankfully a distinct lack of other professors to whom he would have to explain his distraction.

Eventually his feet brought him to the door of the Defense professor. Knocking lightly, he was left to wait only moments before the door was opened.

"Harry?" Remus Lupin stared at the youngest Professor and his honorary godchild for a moment before ushering him inside. Although he urged the younger wizard to sit, he didn't and began to pace. Taking a seat himself, Remus simply watched him for a moment.

Suddenly Harry stopped, turning to Lupin with an expression of extreme emotional upset. "He's a dark creature, Moony!"

Remus looked confused, "Who, Harry?"

Harry began to pace once again. "Snape."

Not quite understanding, but knowing that the younger man wasn't done yet, Remus waited. No further information was forthcoming, so he spoke up. "Harry, I've known since school that Severus had vampire heritage."

Harry froze, looking up, eyes bright with unshed tears. "What?"

"I could smell it, even in school."

"Why didn't anyone say anything? You know how I feel about him." There was a definite undertone of betrayal in Harry's voice and Remus suddenly understood the concern.

"Harry, it's not that big a deal."

"Not a big deal! He's a dark creature! I'm Harry Bloody Potter!"

Remus stood, using what little height advantage he had to force Harry into a chair. "I'm a dark creature, Harry. Does that change things?"

Harry slumped in the chair, too lost in emotion to really rationalize what he was feeling. "You're different." Even he could acknowledge that it was a lame response.

Seating himself, Lupin responded, "Yes, I'm different. Every month I will change into my dark creature with no choice in the matter."

"He's such a hypocrite… He got you fired for being a werewolf."

"No, Harry, he didn't. Severus did what he did because no one knew I was a werewolf. He did it because they didn't have a knowledgeable choice."

"How is that different, no one knows he's a vampire!"

"Unless he invokes the blood magic and embraces his heritage, he's only a wizard with health problems. He doesn't have to register and there's nothing to tell the Ministry or the Board of Governors."

Harry sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "That's the thing. Apparently, he doesn't have a choice anymore."

Remus leaned forward, "What do you mean?"

Looking up, green eyes met honey-brown. "He can't hold off the change anymore by himself."

The Dark Arts professor shrugged. "Dumbledore is known for having an eccentric staff. He might not want to teach for a year while he adjusts to the change, but after registering he'd be as socially accepted as he ever was."

Harry shook his head, breaking eye contact and chuckling in a deep, deprecating manner.

"What is it, Harry? What aren't you telling me?"

"I've spoken with the Headmaster. He put off the change too long and won't have control of it. Unless it's stopped, he'll change. You know what happens if a vampire can't control the magic, he'll kill or turn everyone tied to his emotional memory."

Remus began to look concerned in a way that he hadn't so far in their conversation. "Harry, the only way to stop that kind of magic is a connection with someone more powerful."

Harry looked back up at the only person remaining with a connection to his birth family. "Yeah, that's basically it."

"I know you think you're in love with him, but you can't do that, Harry."

"You told me once you'd support me if I wanted to try with him."

Remus looked conflicted. "This is different."

"If I don't, then he's going to kill himself rather than lose control."

The werewolf flinched, the same thoughts having occurred to him several times in his life. When he could once again meet the younger wizard's gaze, he did.

"You can't do this just to save his life. It won't work."

"Then I need to find out what will work."

Harry stood, moving to the door with a new sense of purpose.

"Harry?"

The younger man turned, looking back. Remus was still in his seat, watching him. "I'm here, no matter what happens. You know that?"

For the first time in over an hour, Harry smiled. "I know, Moony."

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This time Harry's mind agreed with his feet as they brought him down into the lower levels of the castle. Taking a deep breath, he summoned his Gryffindor courage and knocked on the corner of stone he knew acted as Snape's door. The guardian portrait watched him amusedly for a few minutes, as Harry became progressively more annoyed with the lack of answer.

"He's not in."

Harry turned his frustration to the portrait with a glare and raised eyebrow. The unnamed ancestor simply looked down his Snapish nose and returned the glare. Harry broke, as he always did, and sighed heavily.

"Is he not in, or being stubborn and not answering?"

The portrait smiled, the first time Harry had seen that action on the inherited set of features. It looked rather good and he eagerly anticipated the same effect on his target's face someday.

"You must be the Potter he's always going on about." Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Not in the hallway, of course, all Snape's are far too reserved for such carrying on's… But I visit Miriam inside and he's quite vocal about you."

Not quite sure if he should be pleased, or concerned, Harry attempted to change the subject. "Do you know when he'll be returning?"

A casual shrug in reply. "Ask Miriam."

He was slightly stunned as the portrait swung open and the stones of the wall rearranged to allow him entrance. "Uh, thanks?"

Harry could hear the gruff reply from behind him as the wall closed. "I didn't do it for you."

Stepping into the room, Harry reflected that he had never truly expected to be allowed into the inner sanctum of the Potions Master. And he certainly never expected to do so unaccompanied. Looking around, he noted that although Snape was passionate about his subject, he didn't have cauldrons and evil looking containers of bits in his personal quarters.

Walking through the sitting room, running his fingers lightly over heavy mahogany and upholstery of silk brocade, Harry decided that Snape definitely didn't need to teach for a living. Most of the professors had rooms furnished from the castle's storerooms. From the family crest carved into the furniture and worked into the fabric pattern, he suspected that this was personally owned.

"Excuse me?"

Harry jumped slightly, turning towards the sound, wand already out. He was faced by a portrait hanging over the mantel of an empty fireplace. It was unexpected in its springtime brightness. Pastels and florals dominated the scene of a delicate young woman in a formal garden. From her clothes, it was hard for Harry to tell if she was a witch in life, or simply an older portrait.

For all her blonde sweetness, Harry could tell the moment she arched an eyebrow and looked upon him sharply that this had to be another relative. "Cassius let you in, I suppose?"

Assuming she had to mean the other portrait, Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"And you are?" If a portrait could do disdainful, then this one could give lessons.

Tucking his wand away, Harry sketched a short shoulders-only bow that seemed to brighten her features. After all, it wouldn't do to anger Snape's decorations.

"Harry Potter."

She curtseyed in return, sweeping the skirts of a muslin day dress to the side. "Miriam Snape."

Harry stilled for a moment. "Pardon me, but you don't look like the rest of the Snape's I've seen."

Miriam giggled in return, but answered, "I was illegitimate."

"Ah." After a short pause, Harry got down to business. "Do you happen to know when the Professor will be returning?"

Cocking her head to the side, Harry was subject to a long glance before he received an answer. "A day or two, perhaps. He's handling some family business."

As he turned to leave, there was more from the portrait. "You're welcome to stay until he returns."

It was Harry's turn to arch a brow incredulously, as he turned back to regard the portrait. "I don't think he'd like that."

"Oh, I think he would." In a commanding manner, she gestured towards a short hall off the sitting room he'd been standing in. "There's a guest room and library back there. The laboratory as well, though you'd probably do well to stay out of there."

Too curious to leave without at least taking a look, Harry started towards the hall. "Thank you."

With another curtsey, Miriam returned to considering the flowers in her oil-based garden.

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Three days passed before Snape returned to his rooms. A quick scowl and a harshly uttered password kept Cassius from speaking before opening. Inside, he passed so quickly through the formal sitting room that he barely even noticed Miriam, much less her attempts to get his attention.

The business had been difficult and the days long while he'd been away. The last bit, arranging for an official heir to the succession of elder for the clan, had particularly involved some rather nasty duels. After the relaxing restoration of a bath in his private quarters, Severus slipped into a dressing gown and wandered towards his library. The only thought on his mind was a glass of brandy to ease the last bits of tension.

Not noting the comfortably worn leather furniture that adorned his most private abode, Snape ignored the shelves of books as well and stepped lightly to the liquor cabinet. Pouring himself a belled glass of dark liquid, he turned, dropping the decanter a little more heavily onto the shelf than he'd intended.

Sprawled flat on his leather couch, a book on his chest and barefoot, was Harry Potter regarding him with sleep heavy eyes.

Snape turned and closed his liquor cabinet, sipping at his drink as he regarded the apparition on his couch. "If I must hallucinate, my deteriorating mind could at least have provided him in the nude."

It was the mutter of a man not really expecting a response… A man who truly believed himself to be alone, or would never have said anything so revealing.

Harry was not one to let such an opening go past. Not moving a muscle, he remarked casually, "Shall I strip for you?"

Snape froze, muscles going still and breath barely moving. His eyes stopped in their examination of the hands arched over the spine of the book and returned to meet the face of the man on his couch. The slow drip of water from his hair onto the velvet dressing gown was the only movement about him for a long moment.

Finally, he chuckled. Harry marveled at the change in the man's features as he broke into a wide, but slightly deprecating smile, and leaned his head back to laugh at the ceiling. It was a position that also allowed him to note the smooth column of neck and wonder how it tasted fresh from bathing.

Shaking his head, Snape turned away from his couch and lowered himself into one of a pair of chairs flanking the fire. Harry could barely hear his mutter, even in the silent confines of the room.

"Auditory psychosis… Next I'll be carrying a tin of lemon drops."

Not wanting to pursue the charade any longer, Harry shifted on the couch. Sitting up, he set the book gently on the leather next to him as he turned towards the chair holding the Potions Master.

Snape had frozen again when Harry moved, turning to him with a flash of expression across his face before it blanked into cold austerity.

"Be careful with that, or you'll shatter it."

Harry's comment drew the other professor's attention to the belled glass in his hand. Knuckles showed white where he gripped it. Loosening his hand, he deposited the item on the side table and looked into the fire.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

The voice was more tired than angry, a result that concerned Harry in an odd fashion. He'd expected the spitting madman of times past, rather than the defeated person in front of him.

"At the moment, still waiting for you to answer my question."

Snape met Harry's eyes for a quick moment, then looked away. A gentle flush rose across his cheekbones at the recollection of precisely what question was awaiting an answer.

"Get out, Potter."

"No."

The even response to his demand startled Snape into turning to look at his unwitting houseguest. "No?" The questioning tone was slightly incredulous and he rose from the leather chair with a contained menace.

Harry stood as well, facing the man over the space of a few feet of stone floor. "No. I'm here to help you."

"Why would you possibly imagine that I wished your help?" The question in response was laced with as much scorn as Snape was capable… quite a bit, really.

The green-eyed young man was unbowed, flicking a hand towards the book he'd been reading. "I know, Severus. I'm not going to allow you to do this."

A quick two-step forward brought the Potions Master into grasping distance. A sharp glance at the text revealed it to be one of his rarer tomes on blood magic with, as he knew, a very useful set of chapters regarding vampirism. Wrapping a hand in the collar of the other professor's semi-buttoned shirt, he pulled him to tiptoe until they were nose to nose.

At that distance, the icy hiss of displeasure was clearly audible despite the low tones. "I will not have your pity, Potter."

Harry kept his calm, knowing the stakes he played for in this game were higher than almost any he could find since he'd killed Voldemort.

"It's not pity, Severus."

"Then what is it?"

Breathing deeply the scent of cardamom, a hint of lemon verbena, and the spicy tang of the brandy, Harry resolved himself to pure honesty.

"It's love."

Harry didn't expect the quick sneer that formed on Snape's face. "Gryffindor mentality."

"I heard you in the Headmaster's office."

The sneer faded slowly, a slight trace of confusion leaking into the onyx gaze.

"You don't think I actually stayed because I like teaching Muggle Studies?"

Silence, still.

"If I removed myself from Hogwarts, I would have lost my chance to be near you."

The gaping maw of emptiness grew and Harry began to get desperate.

"Severus, please."

"You may know what I am, but do you realize what will have to be done?"

Harry nodded, his position uncomfortable, as Snape seemed to have forgotten he held him slightly suspended. The effortlessness of the movement told the younger professor all he needed to know about the progress of the blood magic through the wizard's system.

"You're too far gone for the Agape ritual?"

A slight movement of the head loosened the drier parts of coal-black hair. They drifted free and Harry was teased once again with that faint scent that was pure Snape. There was a susceptibility to the potions master now, the aura of someone who has given in because they hadn't really wanted to fight.

"I have resisted the change for too long. There is no way to avoid some… alteration… of who I am."

The older man stepped back, but Harry stepped forward to maintain their skin-tingling proximity. "I can handle that."

A calculating look in cold black eyes, "Can you, Potter? Do you know of my clan?"

"Yes." No further elaboration, just simple acceptance. It was rather like trying to seduce a riled cobra. Of course, Harry would have had the advantage in that situation, knowing the language instinctually. Talking to a Snape was decidedly more complicated.

"There are many who long for your blood and have recently undergone the change."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to people wanting me dead. And I trust you."

Snape leaned into him, that hissing menace having returned to his voice, all outward signs of demure acceptance buried beneath his tight control. Harry closed his eyes at the brush of quickly drying black hair over his face and started with a gasp when a wet path was traced over his neck by the bare tip of a tongue.

"Do you, Potter? With your blood and life?" The comment was made directly into the crook between neck and shoulder, his ears barely registering the questions as his entire body was strung taut. He didn't see how the potions master would have been able to get any blood from the area, it all seemed to be rushing south as his prick demanded release from the too snug jeans.

The sinuous chuckle and slight press of a thigh brought another gasp from Harry. "Would you accept my feeding from you? Can you control your power well enough to dominate mine?"

Harry swallowed heavily, forcing words past a too dry mouth. "Erosade?"

The word obviously made sense to Snape, as he simply hmmed his agreement against the neck as he nuzzled. The Man Who Defeated Voldemort summoned enough control over his raging libido to smirk and ask in an almost casual tone, "Could you tolerate life as my pet vampire?"

The question brought the dark head up, with an angry glint already in the dark eyes. "I am no one's pet, Potter!"

Harry let the aura of his power flood the room as he forced Snape's head to the side with a fist twined in his hair. The green eyes echoed the depths of his control and his desire for this as he stared at the older man. "You will be what I allow you to be."

Dark eyes flashed defiance again, before longer than expected lashes dropped them half-closed. "Yes." The end hissed out with a sibilance that brought Harry's interest to a throbbing attention. He released his grip and the other man eased into his taller position.

Harry's smile was predatory as he met that look. "Present yourself to me at midnight in the Room of Requirement." He ignored the older man, turning to gather the tome from the couch before leaving the room.

Snape watched him go, the barest edges of a pleased smile twisting his lips.

~Finis~

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