snapetoy (snapetoy) wrote in churchofsnarry, @ 2006-01-15 11:50:00 |
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Current mood: | crappy |
In This Blood
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:: 5/?
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
Chapter Four
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“Father Snape,” came the timid voice of the serving girl as Severus, Draco, Harry and Remus were sitting down to breakfast.
“What?” Severus all-but snapped. The previous night had been a long one for Severus, dealing with a furious Lucius because Riddle had been displeased over something or other. Whatever it was, Severus had to clean up the mess and he was exhausted.
“There’s a messenger coming up over the hill. He carries no crest. The Archbishop isn’t here and you must give clearance for him to pass.”
“It’s probably Blaise,” Draco said excitedly. “Allow him to pass.”
Severus looked at the serving girl a moment before rising from the table. “I’ll inspect him myself.” Severus looked at Harry for a long moment before motioning the young novice along.
Harry pushed his bowl of porridge away, not really hungry in the first place and followed Severus down the corridor, keeping his head bowed. Severus eventually opened a door that led to a long flight of stairs.
“We’re going up,” Severus said and without waiting for Harry to answer, he began the long trek upward.
There were five hundred and eighty-two stairs up to the very top of the tower. It was the highest place of the Monastery and it contained a lookout room where any of the monastery’s occupants could see who was approaching.
When Severus and Harry finally reached the top, Harry was slightly winded but did his best to hide it. Severus nodded toward the far window and Harry followed him across the room.
“That man is not Blaise,” Severus muttered under his breath.
“Could he be sending word from someone?” Harry offered.
Severus let out a slow breath and without saying another word, led Harry back down the stairs. “Keep on guard,” Severus told the servants who were waiting for instruction. See that he has no weapon and I’ll greet him myself.”
As the man rushed off to do Father Snape’s bidding, Draco came bounding into the room. “Was it him?”
Severus shook his head. “It was not. I’ll greet this man myself.”
With dismayed eyes, Draco turned and walked off toward the library. Harry debated whether he should go about his afternoon business but one glance from Snape told him he ought to stay where he was.
The moment of quiet as they were waiting was intense for Harry and he was burning with curiosity. Not only about the messenger but why Severus insisted Harry stay with him.
Before Harry could ask any of his questions, the servant returned and signalled for Severus to go out. Severus beckoned Harry along stepped out the front doors. They were met by a tall man with dark eyes, a scraggly beard wearing tatty clothes and bare feet. The man was carrying a large sack on his arm and it looked rather heavy.
“Father Snape,” the man said with a small sneer and a slight bow.
Severus quirked an eyebrow. “You know me yet I have no idea who you are. Who sent you?”
“I’ve merely come to deliver a warning. It’s not going to work.” With that, the man dropped the sack with a heavy thud, jumped on his horse and sped off.
Severus stared at the sack suspiciously before prodding it with his foot. Whatever was inside was slightly squareish and seemed to be quite heavy.
“Don’t!” Harry cried out of suspicious habit as Severus reached for the string on the sack.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. He’s not trying to kill us… yet. This package is a warning, not a weapon.” Severus kept his voice trained low and calm though his eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance.
Picking up the strap, Severus slung it over his shoulder and walked back inside, Harry following slowly after. Severus paused just inside, his brow furrowed in thought and eventually decided to head for the library.
It seemed everything important was conducted in the library and it was just the place to read the so-called warning.
Remus and Draco were seated at the far tables, pouring over the Grail tomes and looked up when Harry and Severus entered.
“So what was it?” Draco demanded, standing up and craning his neck to get a look at the sack on Severus’ shoulder.
“A warning,” Severus said and placed the sack on the table with a loud thud.
Draco’s eyes widened and he rushed over to Severus’ side. “Have you opened it?”
Severus shook his head slowly. “I have not.”
“What?” Draco all-but shouted. “Are you mad? It could be dangerous!”
Severus rolled his eyes and cast a sideways glance at Harry before grabbing the opening flap. “It’s a warning, Draco, as I have previously stated.” With that, Severus pulled the top off and revealed a large box intricately decorated in Arabic writing.
“Can you read that?” Remus breathed as his eyes scanned over the writing.
Severus squinted at it. “It’s difficult to decipher. It’s an older form of Arabic and it’s clearly meant to be used as art, not to be read.” Severus reached out and pulled the box from the sack. As he lifted it, a rolled up parchment fell onto the table and the four men held their breaths.
“Which is meant to be the warning?” Draco demanded. He grabbed the parchment, unrolled it and found he couldn’t read the writing.
“It’s in Greek,” Severus said with a bemused frown.
“Is that odd?” Harry asked quietly.
“A bit,” Severus said, sounding distracted. His eyes skimmed over the wording and eventually he swallowed and then read aloud, “The Archbishop must learn his place. Perhaps this will help him find it. His plans will not work.”
Draco’s frown deepened. “Rubbish,” he spat. “My father knows his place. He’s the Archbishop.”
“I believe that’s the problem,” Severus said irritably.
“Let’s see what this is, then,” Draco said and reached for the top. Before anyone could make a move to stop the blond, he popped the lid off.
And nearly fainted.
Sitting in a bed of red velvet, the Archbishop’s most favourite, was a head. Not just any head, the curly-haired, brown-eyed head of the novice monk, Blaise Zabini.
“No,” Draco whispered as he staggered backwards. “No. It’s… fake.”
Remus immediately jumped into action, grabbed Draco’s arm and led him to a chair. “Wine,” he commanded and Harry rushed over to the liquor cabinet and fetched a glass.
Remus took it and pressed the wine into Draco’s trembling hands, helping the blond raise the cup to his lips. Severus was still staring down into the box and only looked up when Harry placed a hand on his arm.
“Who is that?” Harry asked in a whisper.
Severus swallowed, looked back at Draco and then shook his head. “Blaise.”
The shock of it h it Harry and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “My God,” he gasped out from behind his fingers.
Severus shook himself out of his shocked daze, slammed the lid back on the box and wrapped it back up in the sack. “I’ll send word to the Archbishop,” he said and strode out of the room with the sack back on his arm.
Harry turned weary eyes back on Remus who was holding Draco’s shoulders tightly. The blond was staring off, slightly dazed, his grey eyes clouded. He was mumbling something under his breath but neither Harry nor Remus could make out the words.
“I should take him to his bed,” Remus said softly.
Harry nodded. “Seems pointless to continue this,” he said, gesturing toward the tomes.
“See if Father Snape needs help,” Remus said with a short nod. “I think this has exceeded the importance of the Grail.”
Harry licked his lips and then reached out to squeeze Draco’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Draco did not acknowledge Harry at all. He merely kept his eyes facing down toward the ground and the wine glass gripped firmly in his fist. Remus sighed, shook his head and slowly eased Draco to his feet.
“I’m not sure what this means, but it can’t be good,” Remus said and led Draco out of the room.
Harry fidgeted for a moment, unsure what to do. Eventually he decided to seek out Severus and see if he could be any assistance.
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Remus managed to get Draco into his room and carefully helped the blond to the end of the bed. Remus pushed the cup to Draco’s lips and made sure the younger man finished every drop of the wine.
Draco had not come out of his shock so Remus eased him into the bed. Sitting next to the distraught man, Remus found his heart filled with pity and a need to comfort. He carefully ran his hands into the other man’s soft, platinum locks.
“For what it’s worth to you, I’m here,” Remus whispered.
Draco gave a small whimper and suddenly latched onto Remus’ arm. “I loved him,” Draco moaned. “I love him. That… that’s not him. Can’t be him. C-can’t be. Shouldn’t be. Not him.”
Remus continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair until Draco’s eyes slid closed and he drifted off. Debating what to do, Remus decided that the best place he could be was at Draco’s side.
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Harry wandered round the Monastery for the better part of a half hour before he found Severus. The dark haired man was in the Archbishop’s office, angrily penning a letter. Harry wasn’t invited in but wasn’t asked to leave when he took a seat across from the older man.
Severus didn’t look up until the letter was complete and he was satisfied with the words. When he’d finished the letter, Severus rolled up the parchment, sealed it and then tucked it into his pocket.
“Is Lupin with Draco?” Severus eventually asked, his voice sounding rather hoarse.
“I think so,” Harry said quietly.
Severus let out a long sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. “Things are getting more dangerous.”
“I noticed,” Harry commented dryly. “Was Blaise innocent in all of this?”
“I’m not sure,” Severus confessed. “The Archbishop has plans that even I am not privy to. He would be wise to include me in things but the Archbishop is not always a wise man.”
“He is rather arrogant,” Harry said.
“There is more to it, but you aren’t wrong,” Severus said. Eventually, Severus rose and fetched two glasses of brandy.
Harry took a long drink of the warm liquid before asking, “So what does this all mean?”
“It means,” Severus said, “that none of this will end quietly or calmly.”
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Blaise’s funeral was held in the traditional manner despite the belief that the young man likely wasn’t absolved before his death. Severus promptly ignored that rumour and conducted it as he normally would.
The Archbishop wasn’t present for the funeral but he did arrive a few days later, accompanied by a few men that no one but Severus seemed to know.
Draco was ordered to stay away from all company and his grief made it so he didn’t much care. Remus spent the bulk of his time with Draco, making sure the young man was fed, bathed and clothed on a daily basis.
Harry would have preferred the quiet solitude of the library in research, however, the Archbishop decided to employ Harry as his personal scribe. So instead of the quiet of the library or even the quiet company of Severus, Harry was forced to sit through several meetings and document them.
None of the information shocked Harry. It was all about the war, the Muslims and such not. He kept careful record of everything that was send and learnt a bit more about the illusive Tom Riddle who was still in exile.
The job did not matter to Harry. What did matter was that every time Harry looked at Malfoy, he saw the reason his parents were dead. The reason the Order was gone and the reason he was now a slave to the Church he didn’t trust. But to stay alive he had to keep quiet and Harry knew that his life meant something. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he wanted to find out.
The Archbishop stayed for five days before departing again, this time for a promised three months. He was on a campaign with Riddle, petitioning for Riddle’s reinstatement into the Church.
The day after Lucius Malfoy had gone, Severus ordered Harry to work on the tomes a bit more and eventually joined the younger man after a few hours.
“Have you made any progress?” Severus asked, sliding into a seat and readying his ink and quill.
“Not really,” Harry confessed.
“I thought as much,” Severus said with a sigh.
“We’re not actually going to find anything in here, are we?” Harry asked.
Severus snorted a little. “At least you have some semblance of reason and intelligence, Potter.”
“I don’t see the purpose in this. Will this actually tell us who the Grail is?”
Severus looked at Harry with a strange glint in his eye. “I believe it could, though we could possibly find the Grail anywhere, if we know how to look for it.”
Harry sighed and set his quill down. “This is pointless, then.”
“True, but we do what we must.”
“Why must we do this?” Harry demanded. “Why are we working for a man who was excommunicated from the Church? Who murdered people? Who is clearly not a man of God?”
“Because sometimes the power is not where it appears to be.”
Harry bit down on his lower lip and gave Severus a long, dissecting look. “I do know what you mean, even if I’ve not experienced it.”
“I know,” Severus said softly.
Harry felt the whisper reach the very pit of his stomach, stirring feelings in him he’d never experienced before. Feelings that had been dormant for a long time. Ones that had been described as wrong.
“Things go far deeper than right and wrong,” Severus said as though reading his thoughts. “There is no black and white to life or to the Church, Harry.”
Harry swallowed thickly. “I still don’t know what any of this means.”
Severus reached out and closed his fingers round Harry’s wrist. The younger man shivered at the touch but couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “Some things aren’t meant to make sense, Harry.”
“Like faith?”
“Or lack thereof,” Severus replied, sounding almost bitter. He rubbed his thumb over Harry’s skin a few times and fixed him with heated eyes before pulling away. “Yet I think what’s made more sense in my life is the realisation that God is not God.”
Harry frowned, fighting the urge to grab Severus’ hand. “You really don’t believe God exists?”
“I am not saying that,” Severus said. “I’m saying God does not care. Why should he care, when we are all human? Why should he care?”
“Because he’s our creator,” Harry replied automatically, but as the words left his lips he realised how strange they sounded.
“To care is a human thing,” Severus replied, sounding weary. “To love is human, to hate is human. Beginning, ending, time. All human. God is not human and I can’t expect God to comprehend the nature of humans.”
“He created us,” Harry said weakly.
“Yet he is not like us.”
“And Jesus…”
Severus shook his head. “And Jesus,” he whispered. “A man who claimed to be divine… or perhaps he didn’t. All we have are these texts written by men who never knew the Rabbi. These men who wrote down folklore and insisted that it was real.” Severus’ voice had lost all trace of bitterness. All that was left was a slight hint of weary finality. “But in the end, it’s all still human. So the question you must really answer for yourself, when you die, will everything human actually matter?”
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Draco gave a loud groan, startling Remus from his slumber. The amber-eyed man hadn’t meant to fall asleep and was immediately awake. The young blond reached out in the dimly lit room and fumbled for Remus’ hand.
“Why?” he breathed.
Remus ran his hand up and down Draco’s arm gently. It was the first time Draco had actually spoken since that first night. “Why what, Draco?”
Draco groaned again and buried his face in Remus’ side. “He left me. Why? Why?”
“Some things we can’t control, Draco. I’m so sorry.”
“But he’s left me alone. No one else understands. He did, but no one else does.”
Remus reached down and pulled Draco up. The blonde’s eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles and his skin was quite sallow from no sun and pitiful amounts of food.
“I’ll try to understand, Draco. And you’re not alone. I’m here.”
“You can’t understand,” Draco sniffled and fell back against his pillow. “No one else will.”
Remus bent his head down and pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead. He’d grown utterly attached to the young man lying in the bed and wanted only to ease his grief. “I will try Draco, if only you will let me.”
Draco slowly reached up and touched Remus’ cheek with the tip of his fingers. “It could end badly.”
Remus had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but in that moment he didn’t care. “That doesn’t matter,” Remus breathed and closed his fingers round Draco’s.
Draco swallowed and squeezed Remus’ hand lightly. “Nothing does.”