InsaneJournal

snapetoy (snapetoy) wrote in churchofsnarry, @ 2006-03-12 08:10:00

Original poster: occasus_crisis

Title: In This Blood
Author: occasus_fics
Summary: Based on theory of Knights Templar, Harry decends from the blood line of Jesus Christ. Tom Riddle knows about this and wants the blood line to end. AU No magic.
Pairings: Severus/Harry, Remus/Draco
Rating: R
Chapter: 7/?
A/N: This fic was just found on deleterius so I decided to upload a few chapters. Here are two :p Hope you enjoy.


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Severus wasn’t sure who was knocking at his door. When he answered he was utterly shocked to find Draco standing there. The tears were still ever-present in his eyes and he said nothing as Severus stepped aside.

Snape didn’t bother to offer Draco a drink and the young blond stood in the middle of the room, his gaze trained on the fire.

“What do you want?” Severus eventually asked.

Draco turned and looked at Severus. “He’s gone.” Draco’s tone was empty, so dead that it tugged at Severus just a little.

“There isn’t anything I can do about it.”

“Remus comforts me but the emptiness is still there.” Draco reached out and grabbed the front of Severus’ robe. “I need something else.” Draco brought his face in for a kiss but this time Severus found himself able to push the blond away.

“No,” Severus hissed.

Draco was shocked for a moment but clung on still. “Father Snape…” he whispered.

Severus gave Draco a violent shove back, sending the blond toppling over the chair. “No, Draco. Not this time and not again. Ever.”

“I need…” Draco moaned.

“You’ve got what you need in Father Lupin. You don’t need me anymore.” Snape turned his face away from Draco and said nothing until the door slammed shut. When Severus looked up again, he saw the room empty and wondered when he’d got the strength to turn the blond away.

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Harry, for his part, had lost all strength. All will to believe in himself, or God, or any of it. He stayed alone in his rooms for days, refusing to answer any calls, fasting and praying. And he felt so lost. When he closed his eyes he no longer had the sense that God was listening. He no longer had the sense that God had a purpose for him. That God was really there.

The blackness of the no-faith was swallowing him whole.

Eventually, after three days, Remus came to the door and knocked. “You’ve fasted enough, Harry!” he called, worried for Harry’s state of mind. He didn’t know what happened to the younger man but he knew it was something dangerous.

When Harry heard Remus’ voice, a fiery anger built up in him so fiercely that he could barely contain it. He thought it was all Remus’ fault. The man had shattered his belief that someone still believed in it, that someone still held true to their life’s purpose, to their vows. His hand searched through the darkness of his room and found the first hard thing he could move. The water basin. He chucked it as hard as he could.

The shattering porcelain sounded through the chamber, startling both Harry and Remus. Eventually Remus’ retreating footfalls sounded on the stones and Harry was alone again.

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The only person who could have possibly drawn Harry from his chambers only arrived after Harry had been in isolation for seven days. And he didn’t come for Harry because he wanted to draw the young man out of his isolation, out of the blackness that was engulfing him. No, he summoned Harry out of necessity. The Archbishop had arrived once again and requested Harry as a scribe.

Severus knocked on the door and when he received no answer, he called out, “It’s Father Snape. Your presence has been requested by the Archbishop.”

There was thick silence and then the door creaked open. Harry appeared, clad in his white robes, looking dishevelled and half-starved. “Why does he want me?” Harry croaked.

“He wishes you to serve him for the night,” Severus said. His voice was cold and distant.

“I don’t wish to,” Harry said.

“You have no choice in the matter, Harry,” Severus said.

“Why should I bother, Snape? It’s all a lie. All of it. Faith, God, morality. There is no purpose for any of this. The Archbishop uses God to further his own means, his own power.”

“None of that is new to me, Harry,” Severus replied with a shrug. “You knew about Lucius from the start. How has this changed?”

“Because I was doing it for God, for myself, to live. Now there is no point. Not when faith no longer exists.”

“I have no faith in God, Harry. You know this.”

Harry gave a slow nod.

“Yet I continue in this service.”

“But why?” Harry pressed him. “Why? I’ve worked out so much in my mind but I can’t work out why you are still here.”

Severus sighed. “There is so much more to understand, Harry, and now is not the time to give up on life.”

“I don’t want to serve him, Severus,” Harry pleaded.

“If you don’t, you will likely die,” Severus said plainly.

“Why should I care?” Harry spat bitterly.

“Perhaps you can’t find reason to now, Harry, but eventually you will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Harry challenged.

“Because I have.” The answer didn’t seem to be enough so Severus reached out and grasped Harry’s wrist lightly. “And because I want you to live.”

Harry shivered at the touch. The touch comforted him so intensely that it frightened him and he pulled away roughly. “I can’t…” he said.

“Go to him,” Severus pressed.

Harry bowed his head. “As you wish.”

Harry’s fate was sealed in Severus’ black eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry had freshened up and was sitting in Lucius Malfoy’s chambers, writing down the important parts of the meeting. Harry kept his eyes trained on his parchment but he could feel Severus’ eyes burning a hole in him. He desperately wanted to look up at the man but he was afraid. He was afraid to see desire in the eyes. Afraid that the desire would surface in him. Afraid that the other ‘Men of God’ would know something. There was too much in jeopardy for Harry to dare a glance.

The meeting lasted for hours. It was well into the wee hours of the morning before Harry was allowed to retire. He didn’t glimpse Snape as he passed out of the room but his thoughts were full of the soft voice and the onyx eyes.

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After everyone had gone, Lucius poured a drink for himself and for Severus. The two men retired onto a sofa and Lucius simply stared at Severus for several, long moments.

“Did you want to ask me something?” Severus eventually snapped.

“You want him,” Lucius said.

“Who?” Severus asked with a frown.

“The Potter boy. You want him.”

Severus glowered but didn’t deny it.

“I’ve not told Riddle about him yet. Riddle was never sure about Potter’s child being the one. I’ve seen this boy enough to know he’s likely not.”

Severus clenched his jaw and then relaxed. There was too much at stake, including the fact that he wanted the boy to be his, and the only way to ensure that was to keep Riddle from learning Harry’s true identity. “He was never certain that James Potter descended from Jesus,” Severus said.

“And that’s what all your lovely and helpful research is for,” Lucius said with a laugh. “How is that going by the by?”

“Slowly,” Severus said. “Especially with the war. The growing threats are taking its toll on us.”

“I know how you feel. Our campaign has been attacked numerous times. Riddle only just escaped unscathed last week.”

“Have you cut it short?” Severus asked.

“No,” Lucius replied. “I’ve only stopped to work out a few things here. Riddle and I will be gone for at least six months this time. We reach Rome and we plan to stay until he is reinstated into the Church. His rightful place is Pope, you know.”

“So I’ve been told,” Severus muttered.

“You have such little faith, Severus,” Lucius said with a laugh. He drank the rest of his wine before asking, “And my son. How is he faring after the nonsense with Blaise?”

Severus gave a small shrug. “I can’t be certain. I see little of him.”

“I never expected him to be of much use to you, Severus. I merely keep him here so he is away from me.”

Severus allowed a small chuckle. “He’s safe here. Here he can cause little damage.”

“I’m trusting you to keep him safe,” Lucius said.

“I shall,” Severus promised. He didn’t mention that he no longer needed to. That Draco had found warmer, more comfortable arms to fall into. Arms that would not reject him later. Severus finished his own wine and excused himself from Lucius’ chambers.

By morning, the Archbishop had gone, leaving no orders except to continue on the research. Severus intended to make some progress, both with his outside task and with the now-broken Harry Potter.

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Two days later, rains had begun over the land and didn’t show any signs that they were going to cease. Draco had yet to make any sort of public appearance, but that brought little worry to Severus. The afternoon found Severus and Harry in the library pouring over the tomes.

“This is useless,” Harry eventually said, slamming one closed. “Albus wouldn’t make it so easy to find. This is going to take a lifetime.”

“For your sake, I hope it does,” Severus replied.

“Why do you say that?”

“Lucius may have murdered your parents, Harry, but Riddle ordered their deaths. Do you not think that perhaps, for those same reasons, he might want you dead as well?”

“So why am I alive?” Harry challenged. Severus’ words chilled him to the core but he didn’t show it.

“Because you are useful to Lucius right now.”

Something dawned on Harry and his eyes widened. “Riddle doesn’t know I’m alive.”

“He knows you live; he does not know you’re here,” Severus corrected. “Lucius will gain great favour with Riddle if he can bring Riddle the Grail. If you are here to search, you are useful to him.”

Harry shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face. “And then what?”

“Then you must execute your plan before Riddle executes you,” Severus said.

“What plan?” Harry asked.

“Create one. You can’t expect the world to keep you alive. You have to fend for yourself.”

Harry stood up angrily and stormed out of the library. He’d just made it to the top of the lookout tower when Severus caught up to him. Harry said nothing as Severus crossed the room to stand next to them.

The two of them stood in the window, staring at the black sky as it cried giant drops all across the landscape. The weather matched Harry’s mood perfectly. Dismal, without a hope of clearing.

“What will you do when I’m dead?” Harry asked. “Will you stay here?”

“You’ll allow them to kill you?” Severus asked, avoiding the question.

“It’s likely I won’t win against them,” Harry said. “How could I?”

“The only one who wishes you dead, Harry, is Riddle. That problem can be easily solved.”

“How?” Harry spat, “By killing him? By becoming like him?”

“By doing what you have to to survive.”

“I can’t become a murderer just to save myself.”

“Why not?” Severus pressed.

“Would you?”

Severus met that question with silence. The wind suddenly picked up, chilling them both and Harry gave a slight shiver. Not caring about boundaries any longer, Severus reached out and drew Harry close to him. Harry shivered now, not from the cold but from Severus’ hot touch and he tried to pull away.

This time Severus held him fast. “Why do you pull away from me?”

“Because this is wrong,” Harry whispered.

“Why do you feel it’s wrong? Is it because it feels so right?” Severus’ whispery words flowed over Harry, making him want to cling onto Severus and cry.

But he didn’t. He merely stood there for several moments. “It’s hard to let Him go.”

“Who?” Severus asked, holding Harry a fraction tighter.

“God,” Harry said. “I know he’s not there anymore.”

“Was he ever there?” Severus challenged in a soft tone.

“I thought so, once,” Harry said. “I thought I could feel him listening, protecting, approving. Now there is just this emptiness and I don’t know how to fill it.”

“Maybe it was never meant to be filled. Maybe what you lost was the feeling that you were doing something right.”

“Why would that feeling leave me now?” Harry asked.

“Because you realise there is no one to decide what is right and what is wrong in your life except yourself. You only have yourself to answer to. Only you can judge yourself now. That emptiness is a loss of a greater power and a gain of self.”

Harry shook his head but somehow the words made sense to him. He fought it though, fought that rationality because he didn’t want it. He wanted what he had believed in. He wanted his old world. The world where he knew what he had to do, why he had to do it and how. He wanted it all back. Because in that life he was comfortable. In that life he had purpose and no matter what situation he was in, he felt safe because God was there and God loved him.

And now that was gone. It was empty. Only he was left and it was so dark.

He found himself clinging to Severus tightly and when he looked up at the man, he saw the black eyes watching him. They were guarded but Harry could see something shining in them, something he didn’t understand yet.

And as he stared at Severus, their faces drew nearer. Severus’ hands found their way to Harry’s neck and they rested there slightly. Harry wanted to fight what was about to happen but he found he didn’t have the strength or will to do it.

And he also found he wanted it.

His eyes slipped closed as their lips met. The kiss was so warm, so soft and when Severus’ tongue slipped into his mouth, Harry felt a violent rush pour through him. His head was spinning by the time Severus pulled away and he had to catch his breath.

Eventually, Severus touched his cheek briefly and then pushed him away. “We need to get back,” he said.

Unsure what had just happened and what it was all supposed to mean, Harry nodded mutely and followed Severus back down stairs. As they began to work again, Harry caught Severus looking at him several times and a spark shone in his darkness. There was hope after all, and Harry suddenly found a reason to fight.