Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Bound by Death with a Werewolf
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"Talking"
'Thoughts'
Chapter 3
Severus and Remus slowly continued at a laboured pace along the dirt trail which wound around the outskirts of the unknown. They had been winding their way through a dark forest and had managed to cover approximately a mile since leaving the cemetery. Every now and then, eerie howls could be heard in the darkness, the sound floating menacingly on the soft breeze.
The dawn was fast approaching, in about an hour or two the sun would be firmly set in the sky. Severus was beginning to really struggle now, every step he took was agony, inflaming his senses and driving him on. His complexion was much paler than usual due to the high volume of blood he had lost. They needed to find shelter soon, somewhere where they could rest and regain their health, more so for Severus' sake than that of Remus as the Werewolf was fairing much better. Remus glanced ahead, his improved Werewolf eyes picking up the faint outline of a cabin in the distance. He mentioned the structure to Severus, but received nothing more than a grunt in response.
Upon nearing the building, it became apparent that the cabin was more of a cottage, a very untidy looking building, unkempt. But it was a shelter of some sort, and so Remus knocked on the rotting wooden door after settling Severus some feet away. He hoped that someone would reside there, someone who could offer aid.
No answer
Remus knocked again; still no one came to the door. Gently Remus pushed on the wood and the door sprung open, its unlocked state proving that this cottage had been long abandoned. The cottage consisted of a single room, on the far left stood a single rickety bed, covered in an old moth eaten cotton blanket, and one slightly better looking fur throw. In the middle of the main wall stood an old fire place, a few choice logs stood ready to be lit by the side of the old hearth. Above the main fire pit hung a single, old, rusted pot. Some hooks were precariously hanging from the ceiling and in the far corner a chamber pot and been placed. The thick layers of dust once again proving that it had been a long time since this place had seen life.
Remus, seeing that the inside was safe, retrieved his companion and then settled him down into the poorly maintained bed. Severus lay still, clearly hurt. His raven locks spread haphazardly on the sheets and his breathing laboured. His lips had taken on a blue hue, and his pale skin was cold and clammy to the touch. A clear sign of shock.
Remus gently leaned over the prone form before him and took in Severus' visage. He looked peaceful as he lay there on the bed, and in the quite moment, Remus took the time to actually look at the dark potions master before him. Severus' body was well formed; he was neither too thin nor too fat. He had muscles, but not overly so, just enough to highlight the contours of his body. His hair was caked in mud and a slight amount of mould after spending time underground in a coffin. Neither man knew exactly how long they had been down there for. Remus mused that he must also look in as much of a sorry state. But the stay thought came unbidden to the mind of the wolf as he watched the ill man before him breathe; he wondered what Severus Snape looked like when he was naked.
'He looks good' Remus froze at the thought. He wasn't falling for Snape, was he? No, he wasn't, he couldn't, he wouldn't and that was that.
Remus looked back down at the now unconscious form that lay before him, trying to bring his now jumbled thoughts into context. Severus had been his enemy for years...but come to think of it, it was mostly James and Sirius who conducted the childhood war. Peter, Remus growled at the thought of the man, supported them simply to try and fit in, like all children of that age did. But Remus himself was never really involved in the hexes and curses, the only reason he never stopped his fellow Gryffindors was the fear that he would loose his only friends. He was a Werewolf after all, and friends were hard to come by when you carried the lupine curse.
He had been born a Werewolf; both of his parents were purebloods that descended from a line of good Wizards and Witches, which unfortunately carried a dominant strain of werewolfism. But he was a pure Lupine as both of his parents carried the strain, making him much more advanced in his senses than those who were half lupine of those who were turned. Because of his breeding he was one of the few Werewolves who could master the technique of controlling his wolf side and his transformation. His parents never got to teach him the technique however as they were killed by the Ministry when he was still considered to be a cub, before he ever attended Hogwarts. Lack of training from others like himself had caused him years of misery and hardship; he only had the chance to practice his technique once a month. And though self training was slow, he was improving with time. He was becoming good at managing controlling the raging beast inside on the nights of the full moons, the wolfsbane potion brewed by his companion helping greatly with the inner battle. But Remus had never tried to control the transformation himself. He feared getting that wrong and turning into someone like Greyback.
Gazing at the dark figure before him, Remus felt his face flush slightly. He leaned his lean form down, focusing on the pale lips before him, suddenly feeling the urge to discover what they felt like being pressed against his own. His common sense took a back seat as other thoughts took over his mind. Leaning in even closer, Remus could feel the breath of the other man caressing his face, he was so close...
Suddenly he pulled back, his sense of propriety rushing to the forefront once more as if someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water. What in the hell was he doing? How could he even have entertained thoughts of taking advantage of someone like that, especially someone who was wounded? Even though the urge still pulsated through his veins, Remus promised himself he would stay in control. For both their sakes.
Taking several calming breaths Remus finally managed to pry himself away from his companion's side and busied himself over by the fire place. Cleaning the old structure out as best as he could Remus reached for the pile of old, dry wood and quickly set about lighting the timber, the warmth was badly needed by the cold cabin. He had to use Muggle means of lighting the wood as both he and Severus had left there wands behind in their coffins (1). Neither had been in the right mind to think about them at first, and by the time Remus remembered that they would have been there, the two men had been travelling for nearly an hour. He would have to go back and fetch them some other time.
Once that task was seen to and a little warmth started to seep into the cottage Remus turned his attention back to the dark from still laying on the mouldy bed. Worry quickly filled his mind as he took in the grim visage again. He really should make an attempt to clean him up a bit, if he didn't want him to get any sicker. Slowly, Remus made his way over to the ex Death Eater, the old timber on the floor creaking as he moved over them. He hesitated a moment, before relenting and lifting the hem of Severus' dirty shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his smooth chest. Remus blushed slightly, a few stray thought he thought he had quelled returning to the surface. Severus' chest was covered in old, white scars, probably earned during his time spying. A few bleeding cuts marred his skin also. Remus guessed that these must have been wounds from whatever happened to land them in the graves in the first place, and that the trek out to the cabin must have disturbed them into bleeding again. He managed to convince himself somewhat half heartedly, that despite the seriousness of the situation, he wasn't enjoying seeing the man half naked.
Really he wasn't.
Apart from the few cuts that marred his chest and the ghastly wound on his leg, Severus wasn't in too much of a bad shape. Remus needed water and a cloth so that he could complete his cleaning of the man. Looking around he spotted a clean old bucket. The old cottage had no plumbing of any sort, and so with a sigh of frustration the man took the container up in his hands.
"I'll be back soon Severus" he called to the man on the other side of the room, not knowing if he heard the comment, but understanding the need to say something before he left. With that done, Remus quickly stalked out of the building, the sun now high in the sky, and set out on a quest to find water. He didn't notice as he left, that two Onyx orbs had opened and watched his form leave.
Severus Snape didn't know where he was or why Lupin was here with him. Neither did he know where Lupin had gone, leaving him in this inhospitable unknown place alone. His mind was fuzzy and he had trouble recalling any of the past events. Darkness soon settles over his as once again, his bruised body slips into unconsciousness.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Sighisora Castle (2)
Transylvania, Romania
Ashia, daughter of Lord Aluka (3) Snape and lady Marishka stood gazing into the dark night, looking at the full moon as she stood on her balcony that leads off from her private rooms. She was a tall young looking woman, with midnight wavy hair, and soft dark eyes that would capture any being who looked upon them. She wore a silky nightgown that was a crimson colour, similar to that of fresh blood which flowed down her body as she moved.
She sighed. It had been a week since her older twin brother and his past school mate had been laid to rest. She had felt him die, as the sibling mind connection that she and all of her brothers and sisters shared. It was a power all of her kind had. She had felt his pain, his fear and hopelessness for hours. She had known he was being tortured almost to death. She had known when his friends had found him, and she had felt as he died in the hospital wing, in a place he felt safe and secure. She had felt it more than the others however, and had suffered for a week after, as her bond was stronger with him than that of the others, that tended to happen with twins.
She was up at this time because she felt as if she had been invigorated, but she was suffering from a throbbing pain in her leg and felt as if she were running a slight fever. She couldn't understand what was going on, why she was feeling this way. It was normal in her family to feel sick for at least a month after a loved one had passed away, so why was she suddenly feeling better, except for her inexplicable aches and pains?
Light footsteps behind her brought her out of her thoughts. Turning around she spied her eldest brother Julian approaching her. He was the heir of the Snape family. He too was tall, pale skinned and sported long dark hair that fell down to his mid back, and his eyes were also a deep shade of Onyx. He wore hi day time clothing, dark leather riding pants, boots and a Dragon hide jacket. His knife was safely nestled in its brown leather sheath, hanging from his belt. Small potion vials of both poison and healing mixtures also hanging on threads from the same belt, easily accessible.
She saw the concern and worry in his features before the emotions reached her over the link. The others had also been worried about her all week and she could no longer stand it. They had been watching her every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. It had been hard on her when they had gone to S'everus' burial, watching the British Wizards place him in that cursed land that he had come to love with such passion that he had died for it. And to add insult to the wound, they had buried him close to his lifetime enemies, The Potters. S'everus had told her of them.
"Ashia, what is wrong?" her brother asked, his concern now entering his voice.
She looked up to meet his eyes "I do not know Juli." she answered sadly. He approached his younger sister and embraced her tightly. In response, she began to sob.
"Shhhhh, its ok Ash. It's all going to be ok," gently he rubbed her back, attempting to calm her down. "Now tell me what wrong, please." he begged
"You're going to think I'm crazy." she sadly laughed in response
"No I won't," he replied "I know you too well."
She took a deep breath, steadying herself to say what she had been feeling all night "I think S'everus is still alive. But only just so," bringing her eyes up to look into his she continued "I can feel him Juli."
At first there was naught but silence. Julian wanted to believe her so badly. But how could he. How could their brother still be alive? Once you're dead you're dead or...what if. He suddenly remembered something his parents had told him when he was younger. An old folk tale of people who were brought back to life after death because they had a destiny to fulfil, some who the powers that be had shoved forcefully back because that destiny had not been completed. It was a rare occurrence, but there were a few tellings of it. Could it be that S'everus had pulled off the 'impossible'? In a few cases, the one who returned brought another back with them, even if destiny had foretold that it was their time to go. No one knew why, but that only happened if their deaths were linked and closely timed.
The last case of such that had been recorded was Harry Potter, a British Wizard, who if Julian remembered correctly, the Brits thought had survived and not died, they were wrong of course. Potter had a destiny, to destroy the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord had a destiny to destroy the boy. According to his brother, whoever wins that battle decides the destiny of the country.
Could S'everus have done it? Could he have come back if he had an unfulfilled destiny? Yes. Julian had that much faith in his connection with Ashia that he believed her to be right. They must find their brother, and quickly.
"Ashia," he commanded "contact the others, we need to get going." She nodded and left quickly to fulfil her task and prepare for the journey ahead. Julian glanced at the shining moon above and said softly "we'll find you little brother." he took some comfort in knowing that the man they were searching for was also beneath the same, glowing orb.
(End of chapter)
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(1) Wizards are buried with their wands, an old tradition. In times past, they may also have been buried with money and loved pets.
(2) Sighisora - Medieval city in Transylvania
(3) Aluka - Hebrew. Literally means Leach. It seemed to be so Synonymous with Vampirism, the drinking of blood to stay alive, that I had to use it.
~FireChildSlytherin5
"Talking"
'Thoughts'
Chapter 3
Severus and Remus slowly continued at a laboured pace along the dirt trail which wound around the outskirts of the unknown. They had been winding their way through a dark forest and had managed to cover approximately a mile since leaving the cemetery. Every now and then, eerie howls could be heard in the darkness, the sound floating menacingly on the soft breeze.
The dawn was fast approaching, in about an hour or two the sun would be firmly set in the sky. Severus was beginning to really struggle now, every step he took was agony, inflaming his senses and driving him on. His complexion was much paler than usual due to the high volume of blood he had lost. They needed to find shelter soon, somewhere where they could rest and regain their health, more so for Severus' sake than that of Remus as the Werewolf was fairing much better. Remus glanced ahead, his improved Werewolf eyes picking up the faint outline of a cabin in the distance. He mentioned the structure to Severus, but received nothing more than a grunt in response.
Upon nearing the building, it became apparent that the cabin was more of a cottage, a very untidy looking building, unkempt. But it was a shelter of some sort, and so Remus knocked on the rotting wooden door after settling Severus some feet away. He hoped that someone would reside there, someone who could offer aid.
No answer
Remus knocked again; still no one came to the door. Gently Remus pushed on the wood and the door sprung open, its unlocked state proving that this cottage had been long abandoned. The cottage consisted of a single room, on the far left stood a single rickety bed, covered in an old moth eaten cotton blanket, and one slightly better looking fur throw. In the middle of the main wall stood an old fire place, a few choice logs stood ready to be lit by the side of the old hearth. Above the main fire pit hung a single, old, rusted pot. Some hooks were precariously hanging from the ceiling and in the far corner a chamber pot and been placed. The thick layers of dust once again proving that it had been a long time since this place had seen life.
Remus, seeing that the inside was safe, retrieved his companion and then settled him down into the poorly maintained bed. Severus lay still, clearly hurt. His raven locks spread haphazardly on the sheets and his breathing laboured. His lips had taken on a blue hue, and his pale skin was cold and clammy to the touch. A clear sign of shock.
Remus gently leaned over the prone form before him and took in Severus' visage. He looked peaceful as he lay there on the bed, and in the quite moment, Remus took the time to actually look at the dark potions master before him. Severus' body was well formed; he was neither too thin nor too fat. He had muscles, but not overly so, just enough to highlight the contours of his body. His hair was caked in mud and a slight amount of mould after spending time underground in a coffin. Neither man knew exactly how long they had been down there for. Remus mused that he must also look in as much of a sorry state. But the stay thought came unbidden to the mind of the wolf as he watched the ill man before him breathe; he wondered what Severus Snape looked like when he was naked.
'He looks good' Remus froze at the thought. He wasn't falling for Snape, was he? No, he wasn't, he couldn't, he wouldn't and that was that.
Remus looked back down at the now unconscious form that lay before him, trying to bring his now jumbled thoughts into context. Severus had been his enemy for years...but come to think of it, it was mostly James and Sirius who conducted the childhood war. Peter, Remus growled at the thought of the man, supported them simply to try and fit in, like all children of that age did. But Remus himself was never really involved in the hexes and curses, the only reason he never stopped his fellow Gryffindors was the fear that he would loose his only friends. He was a Werewolf after all, and friends were hard to come by when you carried the lupine curse.
He had been born a Werewolf; both of his parents were purebloods that descended from a line of good Wizards and Witches, which unfortunately carried a dominant strain of werewolfism. But he was a pure Lupine as both of his parents carried the strain, making him much more advanced in his senses than those who were half lupine of those who were turned. Because of his breeding he was one of the few Werewolves who could master the technique of controlling his wolf side and his transformation. His parents never got to teach him the technique however as they were killed by the Ministry when he was still considered to be a cub, before he ever attended Hogwarts. Lack of training from others like himself had caused him years of misery and hardship; he only had the chance to practice his technique once a month. And though self training was slow, he was improving with time. He was becoming good at managing controlling the raging beast inside on the nights of the full moons, the wolfsbane potion brewed by his companion helping greatly with the inner battle. But Remus had never tried to control the transformation himself. He feared getting that wrong and turning into someone like Greyback.
Gazing at the dark figure before him, Remus felt his face flush slightly. He leaned his lean form down, focusing on the pale lips before him, suddenly feeling the urge to discover what they felt like being pressed against his own. His common sense took a back seat as other thoughts took over his mind. Leaning in even closer, Remus could feel the breath of the other man caressing his face, he was so close...
Suddenly he pulled back, his sense of propriety rushing to the forefront once more as if someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water. What in the hell was he doing? How could he even have entertained thoughts of taking advantage of someone like that, especially someone who was wounded? Even though the urge still pulsated through his veins, Remus promised himself he would stay in control. For both their sakes.
Taking several calming breaths Remus finally managed to pry himself away from his companion's side and busied himself over by the fire place. Cleaning the old structure out as best as he could Remus reached for the pile of old, dry wood and quickly set about lighting the timber, the warmth was badly needed by the cold cabin. He had to use Muggle means of lighting the wood as both he and Severus had left there wands behind in their coffins (1). Neither had been in the right mind to think about them at first, and by the time Remus remembered that they would have been there, the two men had been travelling for nearly an hour. He would have to go back and fetch them some other time.
Once that task was seen to and a little warmth started to seep into the cottage Remus turned his attention back to the dark from still laying on the mouldy bed. Worry quickly filled his mind as he took in the grim visage again. He really should make an attempt to clean him up a bit, if he didn't want him to get any sicker. Slowly, Remus made his way over to the ex Death Eater, the old timber on the floor creaking as he moved over them. He hesitated a moment, before relenting and lifting the hem of Severus' dirty shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his smooth chest. Remus blushed slightly, a few stray thought he thought he had quelled returning to the surface. Severus' chest was covered in old, white scars, probably earned during his time spying. A few bleeding cuts marred his skin also. Remus guessed that these must have been wounds from whatever happened to land them in the graves in the first place, and that the trek out to the cabin must have disturbed them into bleeding again. He managed to convince himself somewhat half heartedly, that despite the seriousness of the situation, he wasn't enjoying seeing the man half naked.
Really he wasn't.
Apart from the few cuts that marred his chest and the ghastly wound on his leg, Severus wasn't in too much of a bad shape. Remus needed water and a cloth so that he could complete his cleaning of the man. Looking around he spotted a clean old bucket. The old cottage had no plumbing of any sort, and so with a sigh of frustration the man took the container up in his hands.
"I'll be back soon Severus" he called to the man on the other side of the room, not knowing if he heard the comment, but understanding the need to say something before he left. With that done, Remus quickly stalked out of the building, the sun now high in the sky, and set out on a quest to find water. He didn't notice as he left, that two Onyx orbs had opened and watched his form leave.
Severus Snape didn't know where he was or why Lupin was here with him. Neither did he know where Lupin had gone, leaving him in this inhospitable unknown place alone. His mind was fuzzy and he had trouble recalling any of the past events. Darkness soon settles over his as once again, his bruised body slips into unconsciousness.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Sighisora Castle (2)
Transylvania, Romania
Ashia, daughter of Lord Aluka (3) Snape and lady Marishka stood gazing into the dark night, looking at the full moon as she stood on her balcony that leads off from her private rooms. She was a tall young looking woman, with midnight wavy hair, and soft dark eyes that would capture any being who looked upon them. She wore a silky nightgown that was a crimson colour, similar to that of fresh blood which flowed down her body as she moved.
She sighed. It had been a week since her older twin brother and his past school mate had been laid to rest. She had felt him die, as the sibling mind connection that she and all of her brothers and sisters shared. It was a power all of her kind had. She had felt his pain, his fear and hopelessness for hours. She had known he was being tortured almost to death. She had known when his friends had found him, and she had felt as he died in the hospital wing, in a place he felt safe and secure. She had felt it more than the others however, and had suffered for a week after, as her bond was stronger with him than that of the others, that tended to happen with twins.
She was up at this time because she felt as if she had been invigorated, but she was suffering from a throbbing pain in her leg and felt as if she were running a slight fever. She couldn't understand what was going on, why she was feeling this way. It was normal in her family to feel sick for at least a month after a loved one had passed away, so why was she suddenly feeling better, except for her inexplicable aches and pains?
Light footsteps behind her brought her out of her thoughts. Turning around she spied her eldest brother Julian approaching her. He was the heir of the Snape family. He too was tall, pale skinned and sported long dark hair that fell down to his mid back, and his eyes were also a deep shade of Onyx. He wore hi day time clothing, dark leather riding pants, boots and a Dragon hide jacket. His knife was safely nestled in its brown leather sheath, hanging from his belt. Small potion vials of both poison and healing mixtures also hanging on threads from the same belt, easily accessible.
She saw the concern and worry in his features before the emotions reached her over the link. The others had also been worried about her all week and she could no longer stand it. They had been watching her every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. It had been hard on her when they had gone to S'everus' burial, watching the British Wizards place him in that cursed land that he had come to love with such passion that he had died for it. And to add insult to the wound, they had buried him close to his lifetime enemies, The Potters. S'everus had told her of them.
"Ashia, what is wrong?" her brother asked, his concern now entering his voice.
She looked up to meet his eyes "I do not know Juli." she answered sadly. He approached his younger sister and embraced her tightly. In response, she began to sob.
"Shhhhh, its ok Ash. It's all going to be ok," gently he rubbed her back, attempting to calm her down. "Now tell me what wrong, please." he begged
"You're going to think I'm crazy." she sadly laughed in response
"No I won't," he replied "I know you too well."
She took a deep breath, steadying herself to say what she had been feeling all night "I think S'everus is still alive. But only just so," bringing her eyes up to look into his she continued "I can feel him Juli."
At first there was naught but silence. Julian wanted to believe her so badly. But how could he. How could their brother still be alive? Once you're dead you're dead or...what if. He suddenly remembered something his parents had told him when he was younger. An old folk tale of people who were brought back to life after death because they had a destiny to fulfil, some who the powers that be had shoved forcefully back because that destiny had not been completed. It was a rare occurrence, but there were a few tellings of it. Could it be that S'everus had pulled off the 'impossible'? In a few cases, the one who returned brought another back with them, even if destiny had foretold that it was their time to go. No one knew why, but that only happened if their deaths were linked and closely timed.
The last case of such that had been recorded was Harry Potter, a British Wizard, who if Julian remembered correctly, the Brits thought had survived and not died, they were wrong of course. Potter had a destiny, to destroy the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord had a destiny to destroy the boy. According to his brother, whoever wins that battle decides the destiny of the country.
Could S'everus have done it? Could he have come back if he had an unfulfilled destiny? Yes. Julian had that much faith in his connection with Ashia that he believed her to be right. They must find their brother, and quickly.
"Ashia," he commanded "contact the others, we need to get going." She nodded and left quickly to fulfil her task and prepare for the journey ahead. Julian glanced at the shining moon above and said softly "we'll find you little brother." he took some comfort in knowing that the man they were searching for was also beneath the same, glowing orb.
(End of chapter)
________________________
(1) Wizards are buried with their wands, an old tradition. In times past, they may also have been buried with money and loved pets.
(2) Sighisora - Medieval city in Transylvania
(3) Aluka - Hebrew. Literally means Leach. It seemed to be so Synonymous with Vampirism, the drinking of blood to stay alive, that I had to use it.
~FireChildSlytherin5
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