Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Remus Lupin Severus Snape
Genres:
Drama Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 09/13/2003
Updated: 09/20/2004
Words: 335,561
Chapters: 81
Hits: 1,465,159

Blood Magic

GatewayGirl

Story Summary:
Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry safe, but his relatives are expendable. Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry looking like his adoptive father, but it's wearing off. Blood is a bond, but so is the memory of hate -- or love.
Read Story On:

Chapter 36

Chapter Summary:
A family visit
Posted:
12/30/2003
Hits:
13,334
Author's Note:
Reminder: I started this before OotP was released, so it is not completely consistent with book five, though I've mostly brought it into line. The only real inconsistances are that I've ignored Luna, though she will obviously be important in book six, Moody and company did not read the riot act to the Dursleys at the beginning of summer, and Harry doesn't get the Marauders' Map back.



Transitive Enmity


Harry waited nervously at the door to Snape's rooms. He hoped Severus would answer before one of the Slytherins wandered by and saw him (or, rather, his floating head) here. When the door opened, Severus looked at him with an impressively blank expression, considering Harry's appearance, or lack thereof. He stepped to the side and let Harry in.

"I did get your message right?" Harry asked, as Snape closed the door.

"Yes." Snape's face relaxed and he closed his eyes for a moment. Harry thought he looked as tired as Lupin. "I'm glad you came. Did anyone see you?"

"I wore the cloak." That, Harry thought, was rather obvious, as he was still wearing it, mostly. He swung it off and put down his bag.

"Came prepared?" Snape said, with some amusement.

"I wasn't sure, from what you said, what you wanted me here for, or for how long, so I thought I'd bring my schoolwork."

"Good. Leave it for the moment." Snape walked over to the fire. "I ... I'm having a drink. Would you like anything?"

"Hot chocolate?"

Snape turned around and slowly smiled. "With almond liqueur?" he asked archly.

"Please," Harry said. He almost laughed, remembering how abruptly that promised beverage had been replaced by gruel and white rice.

"Very well." Snape relayed the request down to the kitchens, then walked over to the cabinet and poured himself some wine. "You do realize," he said dryly, "that the overall alcohol content will be low -- perhaps a little more than two butterbeers."

Harry shrugged. "So it may actually taste as good as it sounds like it should."

"Hmm." Snape sat down by the fire. "Yes, I'd forgotten how strong that taste seems." He looked grimly at Harry. "So."

"So?" Harry asked.

Snape grimaced. "We're back to --" He took a deep breath and started again. "Lupin had a visitor today."

"I saw. Small, pretty woman, light brown hair.... He made me leave, but he wouldn't say why."

"She saw you?" Snape sounded horrified.

"No, he made me leave before."

"So you spied on him?" Snape asked sharply.

"Well, yes. Wouldn't you?"

Snape ignored the question. "I saw this woman as she was leaving. I have met her before." Snape caught Harry's gaze and made certain he had his complete attention before continuing.

"She was part of Randolph's delegation to the Dark Lord."

Harry sat silent, shocked at this revelation. He knew, of course, that Voldemort had some sort of alliance with the WFU werewolves, a fact he had conveniently forgotten when approving of their tactics. That he had been carelessly spying on one of Voldemort's allies brought the matter into sharper focus.

His father was watching him with steady interest that was starting to border on disdain. Harry tried to pull himself together enough to ask an intelligent question.

"Do the werewolves take orders from him?"

Snape smirked. "They don't think so. They will learn their error the first time they try to part ways."

Harry's hot chocolate appeared on the table next to Snape. He pushed it over to Harry. The spiraled pile of whipped cream on it tilted precariously, and Harry slurped the top off of it to keep it from falling. Snape winced.

"Sorry. Was that rude?"

"No," Snape said dryly. "That was indecent. Please try to avoid that until you intend the image."

Harry stared at him. Snape waved the matter away as inconsequential. "We were talking about werewolves."

"Werewolves who work with the Dark Lord."

"In part." A bitter look crossed Snape's face. "I'm putting you under restrictions, again."

"What?"

"I don't know how Remus is involved with Miss Forest, or what influence she might have with him, or over him. It is clear he is in some sort of negotiations with Randolph's organization. It is also clear that the thing at Hogwarts they would most want is you."

"Me?" Harry wasn't sure he followed that last claim. He tried the hot chocolate. It had a slight alcohol taste, but was delicious, anyway. The almond flavor was stronger.

"You, Harry. The ultimate treaty price to Voldemort."

"Remus wouldn't give me to them."

"He might not have a choice." Snape scowled. "Or he might not make his choice in time. Or it might not be you." He straightened. "So, again, you will not be alone with him unless I know the time and place. Schedule your meetings with a classmate, or tell me about them, and let him know you have told me. Is that clear?"

"Quite," Harry answered coldly.

"Harry, please."

Harry was startled by the desperation in Severus's voice. He thought the restriction through. "I don't think it's necessary."

"If he is under some coercion, he may be grateful for the excuse." Snape scowled. "I, you understand, am magically prevented from causing physical harm to a pupil at this school." His face hardened with distaste. "I begged the headmaster for this curse. It saves me from undue expectations on the part of my lord."

Harry, reluctantly, understood. "I will inform him."

"Thank you."

The unaccustomed words came awkwardly from Snape's tongue. His skin darkened with blood. Harry looked down, to give him time to recover, and sipped his hot chocolate.

"Now that we have more time," Snape said finally, "explain this situation with Mr. Weasley and Draco."

Harry told Snape about Ron's verbal attack on Draco, and his own intervention, and how Ron had said his hair looked like Snape's.

"That's not so bad, though. I mean, he said it, but I think he just thought he was making it up. The problem is Malfoy. He actually looked. I think Malfoy thinks I'm trying to look like you, though, because he warned me I couldn't really carry it off."

Snape snorted with amusement.

"Ron might have dealt with all that, but when Malfoy walked off, he decided to get cheeky and call me Harry, and then Ron flipped. We still need to sit down and fight, I think. We talked about it a bit when he was on the bubble stuff, and that may have helped, but now he's upset about the bubble stuff, itself, so I think it's a wash." He scowled. "Which is unfortunate, because I was figuring I'd use that when I told them."

"Perhaps," Snape said acidly, "if you told him what it was and asked him, rather than simply subjecting him to it, as I imagine you did...."

"Saying what? 'Ron I'm going to really upset you in the next few minutes -- could you please take some of this stuff that will make you calmer before I start?'"

"Something like that, yes. Or if that's too honest for you --" Snape paused, Harry imagined to give him time to appreciate the irony of Snape, Death Eater spy and the Head of Slytherin, lecturing him on honesty -- "Would you like more of this? Oh, incidentally, have I mentioned Professor Snape is my father?"

Harry choked on his hot chocolate, but managed not to spray much of it.

"I have a little more subtlety than that!" he exclaimed.

"Rather a hard subject to lead into, though, isn't it?"

"I'll start with confessing that I lied about why I asked about the Paternity Charm. That will at least give him a minute's warning while he mentally catalogs every male over the age of thirty that he knows."

"Thirty?!" Snape said incredulously.

"All right. Thirty-two. How's that?"

"A bit better." Snape frowned at him. "Remember, it would need to be someone your mother was willing to have sex with, not just someone physically capable of the act."

Harry shrugged. "She wouldn't have to be willing."

Snape now looked more amused than annoyed. "So we are now postulating -- excuse me, Weasley is postulating -- either a thirteen-year-old rapist, or that your mother liked --?"

"Fourteen," Harry interrupted, heating. "Sixteen, because I already changed --"

"Harry, your age is measured from birth, not conception."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oops. Um -- thirty-three, then? That would make it sixteen. Anyway, he won't do all this math."

"No more than you did." Snape smirked. "Typical shoddy reasoning."

"So," Harry plowed on quickly, "he'll be thinking through all the vaguely old-enough men who might have known my mother --"

"Intimately."

"Will you stop being vulgar?"

"Probably not."

"Whatever! It will give him a moment to know it's got to be somebody --"

"Ah. I always wanted to be somebody."

Harry stopped, stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed. He was surprised to hear his father laugh as well. Severus looked at him afterwards, smiling. It pulled his face in unaccustomed directions. Harry wondered when the anger had etched into his face, and what he had looked like before that, when he smiled like this.

The look faded slowly. Snape picked up his wine and swirled it absently. "I had forgotten it could be fun --" he commented quietly, "having someone to talk to, that is. And I take back anything I said about you being an idiot. You are quite often a fool, but a sufficiently intelligent one for good conversation."

"Hmmph!" Harry pouted briefly, but Snape ignored it, in favor of finishing his wine. "If you were anyone else," Harry conceded, "I'd be insulted, but considering what you usually say about me, I'll take that as extravagant flattery."

"Good." Snape went to the cabinet to refill his glass. "Perhaps you can acquire some sense, after all." Harry watched him pour the wine with the same precision that he poured dragon's blood. Harry suspected that he always added exactly the same amount to his glass, without any conscious effort.

"This isn't really working, you know, with Ron and Hermione," Harry volunteered. "They suspect something, and eventually, they'll hit on the right thing. And I hate keeping secrets from them."

"Is there some way you could mislead them?"

"Hm..." Harry pretended to consider the matter. "I could take up smoking again," he volunteered. "It would give me an excuse to sneak off and lie to her, and she'd suss it in days."

Snape gave him a withering look as he returned with the wine and sat down again. "I'm afraid the closest you'll find in Hogsmeade is a pipe mixture with some tobacco in it, and no one at that apothecary would actually sell such a thing to an underage wizard."

"Ah-hah. So wizards do smoke tobacco."

"Occasionally. Coltsfoot and marshmallow are more common, and all are usually smoked as part of a mixture with some magical properties -- a type of potion, in a way. To have it habitually is extremely vulgar, and more common among certain of the non-humans."

"But you don't disapprove just because it's a Muggle thing."

"No." Snape considered. "Though these disposable means of smoking -- the cigarettes, for example -- those are a Muggle thing, and that bothers me separately from the component plant, which you are having just as a drug. It's like watching you drink distilled spirits straight from the bottle."

"So I can't ask Fred and George to send me some?" Harry teased.

"No."

"Oh, all right. Any other ideas?"

"You know them much better than I do." Snape looked intently at his hands for a moment, and sighed. "Let's start with current status. Details, please, on everything Weasley and Draco said about you looking like me."





Chapter 37: Relationships in flux


Author notes: Chapter 37: Relationships in flux