snapetoy (snapetoy) wrote in churchofsnarry, @ 2006-01-13 22:37:00 |
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Current mood: | cranky |
Chapter Four
Original poster: occasus_crisis
Author:: occasusvenustas/occasus_crisis (posted at the latter coz my original journal was stolen)
Title:: In This Blood
Rating:: R
Chapter:: 4/?
Characters/Pairings:: Severus/Harry, Draco/Remus, Draco/Blaise, Lucius Malfoy, Tom Riddle
Summary:: Based off one theory of the Knights Templar, The blood of Jesus Christ flows through Harry Potter's veins and Tom Riddle wants it to stop.
Warnings:: Blasphemy, Perversion of the Church ideals, Sexual Situations, Adult Language, A/U Non-Magic.
A/N:: I came up with this idea whilst studying for one of my many religion classes. I know I've archived this elsewhere but since all of my fanfic accounts have been stolen, I'm not sure where I've posted this. I know it wasn't here, and sorry if you've read this before. It's about seven chapters into the fic so I'll be posting one a day (assuming) until I'm all caught up. Feedback is muchly appreciated.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
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The chilled stone room was overly large, and looked even larger with the few things in it. The Archbishop Malfoy was seated elegantly in his high backed chair. The Archbishop’s son stood at his elbow and they were whispering to each other. In the centre of the room stood a small, scrubbed wooden table laden with a quill, ink and several finely written documents. In the very back of the room, lightly bound and gagged, stood Remus Lupin.
The tawny-haired man stood back watching as the thing he had sworn to protect, the Holy Grail, stood before the table, reading over the documents. Severus Snape stood behind Harry, so close they were touching, and he was whispering so quietly to the other man that no one else could hear his words, despite the quiet echo of the room.
“Just sign,” the Archbishop eventually snapped. Harry had been reading over the documents for the better part of an hour.
He would be signing over his life. He would be signing a confession, stating he renounced the Knights of the Order of the Phoenix, of his true beliefs, of his loyalty to Albus Dumbledore.
He was to join the Church as a novice Monk. He would assume the white robes and begin his life serving God.
“I’m putting it all down on paper,” Harry muttered.
“Yes, you are. I have done the same,” Severus whispered.
Harry swallowed thickly. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Don’t you want to live, Harry? Don’t you want to be a defender? How can you defend what is right if you are dead? How can you say you have ever been a defender if you let men like Malfoy and Riddle defeat you?”
With a slow breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, Harry picked up the quill. His hand shook, but with a steeled reserve, Harry dipped the end in the ink and scratched his signature over the six pages.
It was done.
“Excellent,” Lucius said, clapping his hands together. “Now for the other.”
Harry stepped back as Severus quickly untied Remus and let him to the table. The tawny-haired man needed far less time to mull over the pages. Within two minutes all six pages were signed. Remus had returned to what he had spent years pretending to be. A simple monk. A servant of the Church. No longer a Knight, no longer a fighter.
It was the only way to keep Harry protected, and Remus would do whatever was necessary to keep the Grail alive.
“We have the tomes,” Lucius said, rising from his chair. “I thank you for that information, Father Lupin. It will be of great aid to the Church.”
Remus said nothing, merely making a low bow to the Archbishop.
“Well, Father Snape, why don’t you show Father Lupin and our new novice to their quarters?”
“Of course,” Severus said, made his bow and led the two men out of the cold room. Heading down the corridor, Severus said nothing as he brought the two to their new place of living.
“This room will be yours,” Severus said to Remus as he opened the door. The inside of the room was not unlike the cell the tawny-haired man had been staying in. It was chilled, stone and sparsely furnished. Still, the bed was far more comfortable and there was a writing desk and fireplace in the corner.
“Thank you, Father Snape,” Remus said in a muted tone. With a last look at Harry, Remus slipped inside the room and shut the door firmly.
“You are down here,” Severus said and led Harry four doors down. “You are next to Blaise for now.”
“Blaise?” Harry asked softly.
“The other novice. He’s on his pilgrimage to Rome, but he’s due back in a week or so.”
“Ah,” Harry said and stepped inside his room. It was much like Remus’, but Harry accepted it as he now accepted everything else.
“You’ll be up by dawn and breakfast is shortly after. Your robes are in the wardrobe. Make sure you are properly dressed.”
“I will,” said Harry, hanging his head.
Severus hesitated before letting his hand drop on Harry’s shoulder. “You did well.”
“I did what I had to,” Harry replied.
Severus gave Harry’s shoulder a slight squeeze, turned on his heel and left the younger man to his solitary night.
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Harry woke in a state of confusion. After six weeks of beatings, half-starvation and torture, warmth and comfort were foreign ideas. Yet, there Harry was, in a soft bed, surrounded by a heavy quilt and the smell of breakfast was wafting through his high window.
As Harry extracted himself from the warmth of the bed, he found his legs weak and trembling. With great difficulty, Harry managed to dress himself, wash his face in the water basin and leave his rooms.
Just as Harry was staring down the corridor, Remus emerged from his room. Pausing, Harry fought back a distressed sob as Remus approached.
“How are you faring?”
“I’m weak, but alive,” Harry answered honestly.
Remus nodded and reached out to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”
“I know, but at what price?” Harry demanded almost roughly.
“We do what we must, Harry. We do what we must.”
Deciding not to respond, Harry pulled away from Remus’ touch and headed to the hall for breakfast. There was no sign of the Archbishop anywhere but Draco and Severus were already seated.
Harry and Remus took their seats, the prayer was said and porridge was served. Harry’s stomach growled loudly and he quickly tucked in. Unfortunately, after a few bites, Harry felt ill and had to stop eating.
“It’ll get easier,” Severus remarked quietly. “Your stomach needs to get used to food again.”
Harry clenched his jaw and refrained from pointing out that the only reason his stomach was unused to food was because they had starved him. Instead, Harry swallowed down a few mouthfuls of water and sat back until the others had finished their meal.
“Now what?” Harry asked. “What do we do now? I have no idea what being a novice entails.”
“Normally there would be a routine, but right now is a precarious time for us,” Severus explained as he led them into a large parlour. “The Muslims have been attacking with a ferocity we did not expect and the Pope is trying to stay them. There would usually be a few more people here but for the moment, it is just us. All routine is off until the Pope gives word that things are going to change.”
“Oh,” was all Harry said to that.
Severus peered out the window as he continued to speak. “You’re not expected to do anything until you take your communion and vows to the Church. But I still expect you to behave properly.”
“I will,” Harry insisted.
“I also expect that the Archbishop will have us pouring over the tomes.”
Draco gave a yawn. “It will take up time until Blaise returns.”
Severus rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply but just before he did, a servant entered the room, her arms laden with the heavy books. Approaching the table, she piled them neatly and gave a short bow to Severus. “The Archbishop requests that you begin to study these.”
Severus smirked. “As I suspected. Thank you.”
The woman bowed and scuttled out of the room. “Might as well get started,” Severus said and gestured toward the table.
Remus, who had remained quiet the entire time, pulled out a chair for Harry and fixed Severus with a pointed look. “Perhaps he shouldn’t start on this just yet.”
“Why?” Severus demanded with a smirk. “Can he not read?”
“I read quite well,” Harry defended as he plucked one of the books from the stack. “I’m not a fool.”
“That’s not what I was implying,” Remus said as he lowered himself into the chair. “I just thought perhaps he should concentrate on other things.”
Severus waved his hand in the air. “This will be fine for him.”
With no room to argue, Remus conceded and began to read in a tense silence. Eventually, Draco grew bored of the assignment and wandered off. No one bothered to stop him, though Severus looked mildly annoyed.
“It’s hard to believe he’s a child of God,” Harry muttered as his eyes skimmed over the ancient style of Latin.
“He’s not a child of God,” Severus said. “He’s a child of Lucius Malfoy.”
“How is that possible?” Harry asked with wide eyes. “The Archbishop belongs to the Church.”
“He belongs to himself,” Severus replied. “As do we all.”
Harry opened his mouth to argue but Remus held up his hand for silence. “Perhaps this discussion is better suited for a different time.”
Harry gave a small shrug and returned to his book. Remus and Severus locked knowing gazes before returning to their own task. An uneasy silence settled over the three of them, but no one brought attention to it.
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After they’d eaten their last meal for the night, Severus took Harry into the library to show him what he needed to read before his communion and vows. It was boring but Harry needed a bit of coaching so Severus stayed with him.
Remus found himself in the parlour with Draco, the two of them indulging in a bit of wine. There was a roaring fire and Draco was seated lazily in a chair, keeping his soft gaze on Remus’ face.
“I hated you,” he said after a long silence.
Remus quirked an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
“You were a Knight of the Order of the Phoenix. How could I possibly like you?”
“I don’t suppose I’ll have an answer for that,” Remus replied.
“Well you’re one of us now, yet you aren’t.”
Remus chuckled. “Did you expect me to be?”
Draco shrugged. “I’m not really one of us.”
Remus shook his head. “No, you’re not, though I suspect you have a separate meaning to those words.”
“You’ll understand when Blaise returns,” Draco said and sipped on his wine. “Then you’ll see what I mean.”
“You love him,” Remus said.
“Are you shocked?”
“I’m shocked by very little,” Remus said mildly. “How long have you loved him?”
“Since the moment I laid eyes on him,” Draco said in a half-dreamy voice. “Father knows, I’m sure. I don’t know why he’s not said anything. I do suspect it’s why he sent Blaise on the pilgrimage, though.”
“I think your father knows things are beyond the black and white of the Church, Draco,” Remus said, staring into the crimson liquid in his goblet. “I don’t know anyone who sees things in the black and white of the Church.”
“Harry does,” Draco pointed out. “Perhaps not the black and white of the Church, but he knows little else beyond his own small world. I could tell that about him right from the off.”
“That isn’t his fault. He’s never seen beyond the walls Dumbledore constructed for him, even before we left for the Manor.” Remus’ voice carried a hint of sadness to it and he shook his head.
Draco stared at Remus and leant forward slightly. “You know, don’t you?”
Remus stared back at Draco, his face emotionless. “Know what?”
“I can see it in your eyes every time you mention that old man’s name. You know. I can see it when you read those tomes. And you know those tomes aren’t going to tell my father anything about the Grail, don’t you?”
Remus let out a barely audible sigh. “Draco, do you believe in the Holy Grail?”
Draco leant back and shrugged. “Yes, I do.”
“Does it matter to you at all?”
“Of course not,” Draco said. “What is the blood of a Rabbi to me?”
“The blood of a warrior,” Remus suggested.
“All of the Knights are warriors. All were equally as brave. All spilt the same colour blood as they were executed. What should it matter?”
“It shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter to me, not in that way.”
“Is the Grail dead?” Draco asked.
“Do I look like an idiot?”
“I suppose not,” Draco said in an almost bored tone and flicked a bit of dirt from underneath his fingernail. “Do you believe in God, Father Lupin?”
“Do you?” Remus challenged.
Draco shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
Remus was completely unsurprised by the answer. “I don’t think many in the Church actually believe in God.”
“What about you?”
“I belong to this Church by force,” Remus reminded him.
“That doesn’t answer my question. You were Father Lupin long before my father made you sign those documents.”
“True,” Remus said and chuckled. “I suppose I do believe in God.”
“And this whole idea of Jesus. The Saviour? Do you believe in him?”
Remus took a small sip of his wine and looked into the warm flames of the fire. “I don’t believe the human race needs a Saviour.” Remus paused and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe humans deserve a Saviour.”
“Why not?” Draco asked, sounding quite curious.
“Because we should have to find salvation ourselves. We shouldn’t have the luxury of letting someone else die for us,” Remus said.
“I’ve never thought about it that way,” Draco said curiously.
“Most don’t,” Remus said with a shrug and drained the rest of the liquid in his goblet. “Most accept the drivel the priests spit out, copying that arrogant fraud, Saint Paul.”
“You have a problem with Paul of Tarsus?” Draco asked with wide eyes.
“Don’t you? How can you accept his beliefs? The beliefs of a man who just decided things without authority, without reason, without point. He just decided because he felt like it. How can you possibly believe that?”
“Because it’s all most of us have ever known,” Draco said.
“And do you believe it all?”
“Of course not. By now you should at least understand that about me,” Draco said and rose from his chair. “You’ll understand more after you spend a bit of time with us. Father Snape has long since lost his faith, Father Lupin.”
“And your nightly visits reaffirm why his faith is gone,” Remus said.
Draco blanched slightly and paused, his arrogant expression faltering slightly. “How did you know?”
“Because like you, I am not blind to the goings on of this place,” Remus said. “Have a pleasant night.”
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Harry closed the book with a heavy sigh and tried not to look at Severus. He hated being there, hated the life he was now living, hated the fact that Remus clearly knew something and was deliberately keeping it from him.
“You look troubled,” Severus said as he watched Harry’s face go from blank to angry in just a second’s time.
“I’m fine,” Harry said and shoved the large tome away from him. “All of this is easy enough to understand. I know all about the Eucharist already so I don’t think I’ll need coaching.”
“And confession?” Severus said.
“Ah, will you be hearing my confession, Father Snape?” Harry sneered.
Severus bit back a smile and shook his head. “The Archbishop will have that honour.”
“Of course he will,” Harry said with a sigh.
Severus leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”
“No,” Harry answered honestly. “I’d like to sit with Remus for a while.”
“Ah, so you have something you want to tell Father Lupin, then?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “He’s not Father Lupin.”
“He is. He’s been for many years. I know you know this,” Severus said mildly.
“You know nothing of what he is,” Harry spat angrily. “You know nothing about us.”
“I know a lot more than you think, Harry,” Severus said carefully. “I know that your father gave up everything he believed to make sure you existed. I know that your mother died to protect you, and I know you were the epitome of their faith.”
Harry sat frozen in shock as Severus spoke. “I never knew my mother and father.”
“Yes, you did,” Severus said. “But they were killed before you could remember them.” Severus rose from the table and gave a half-hearted shrug. “The God that didn’t protect them that night has given you into the hands of the man that murdered them.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “The Archbishop?”
“It goes far deeper than this, Harry. But you have to wonder… why.” Severus headed for the door and paused just before leaving. “Think on that when he’s hearing your confession, and think on that when you have him to thank for your life.”
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Harry stormed into Remus’ quarters, his face red with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me that Lucius Malfoy killed my parents?” he hissed.
Remus gave a sigh. “Who told you?”
“Father Snape,” Harry spat.
“Of course he did,” Remus muttered and rubbed his hand over his face. “Harry, I’m not going to lie to you. He wasn’t the one who ordered their deaths but yes, Lucius was the one who wielded the sword that night.”
“Then why are we here?” Harry shouted. “Why are we still catering to his whims?”
“Because we need to stay alive,” Remus said, his voice carrying just a hint of exasperation.
“I don’t understand,” Harry moaned and threw himself into a chair. “I didn’t understand when I was being kept away from the world. I didn’t understand when I was being tortured and I don’t understand now. Please, Remus. Why?”
“I wish I had an answer for you.”
Harry shook his head. “Why would God let this happen, Remus? Why, when we’ve served him so well… when we’ve dedicated all we are and all we have to him. Why am I now in the hands of the man who killed my parents?”
Remus clenched his jaw. “Because God never said life was going to be fair.”
“Then he’s not a very good God.”
“Harry…” Remus said weakly as the younger man got up.
Harry paused. “Why did my father give up everything he held dear to make sure I existed?”
Remus let out a short breath.
“Why am I the epitome of what my parents believed in?” Harry asked just as quietly.
“Severus.”
“Why is the cryptic information he’s telling me far more than what you’ve ever said to me in the eighteen years I’ve known you?” Harry spat.
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered.
Harry turned on his heel, marched into his room and locked his door. There was a sort of empty darkness hovering just beyond the place of his faith. The darkness was ever-present now, and what Harry didn’t know was that this was the place of No-Faith. And that was just the place Severus sought to bring him to.