Ego, Opinion, Art and Commerce
I don't own Harry Potter, and I doubt this idea is terribly original.
Author: Aloysha Star
Rating: Eventual R/NC-17. Depends on where you find this.
Pairings: Main: Severus/James and Remus/Sirius. Minor: Peter/Lily, Lucius/Narcissa, Lily/James, and maybe some others.
Warnings: Alternate Universe, Male Pregnancy, Slash, Violence, Vampirism, Bloodletting/play, Language, and Death.
Notes: I was a bit bored waiting for my co-authors on another SS/JP thing and decided to try something out. Male Pregnancy, to be brutally blunt, makes my penis hurt. I don't much care for it, mainly because it isn't written well. I'm only writing this because I'm curious as to whether or not it's possible to write it in a way that doesn't make me want to puke. Vampires to indulge my blood fetish and lots and lots of Plot, because plot is an endangered species and should be nurtured back into prominence.
So, if I haven't already offended you, continue on.
Summary: When Lily dumps James he finds himself at a bar, trying to drown his sorrows, only to be bitten by a vampire. Snape saves him and what follows is the Wizarding World's Best Kept Secret.
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Chapter One
Wanting You
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The bar was the seediest, most run down place he could find, full of pale darkly dressed individuals and lit only by flickering candles. They did nothing to penetrate the gloom and, to be honest, did little except cast a sinister glow over it's patrons, giving already unnatural eyes a wicked gleam, bouncing off of eerily white and too sharp teeth. Lips all seemed to be stained red from the mugs they sipped from and, as the night wore on, they became less pale and more alive. Color returned to their cheeks, their hair lost its greasy lank texture and became full and thick, yellowing fingernails lightened and nearly translucent skin became healthy and smoothed of wrinkles.
Severus Snape, a few months past sixteen, watched all of this through lowered lashes. There were other places he could go, less back alley and more high class. While he would be accepted grudgingly and with dark whispers he would be accepted. His parents…they'd had status, even if only one of them had been truly their kind.
Sure, they'd called him a Half-Breed, Half-blood, Abomination, but they'd do it behind their hands and far enough away that his ears wouldn't hear it. Here they'd say it to his face, lips pulled into a sneer and snapping at him nastily.
That's what he wanted. He had never cared for the higher class the vampire half of his parentage bought him for a number of reasons, but mostly because no matter how they smiled they wanted nothing more than to rip each other's hearts out and drain each other dry.
At least here he was assured that he was nobody and, other than a few jeers, no one cared who he was. They were too preoccupied with actual life to want to kill him or other vampires, unlike the higher class who did nothing but socialize and feed all day.
Or at least that was how it seemed at times.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. He looked up and knew, by the pale hazy aura about the person, that this was no vampire stopping in for a drink. Human, with living blood pumping just below his skin.
Everyone felt it when he strode in, heartbeat unusually fast and the air tasting like sweat, tears, and fury. The life wafted off him like the tantalizing scent of a just cooked meal and really that's what he was. A meal with legs, waiting for someone to pounce.
A human who'd dared to walk into a vampire bar.
Snape swirled the blood around in his glass, still tasting the sharp tang of it mixed with brandy on his lips and tongue. It made the alcohol go down smoother. Blood straight from the source had been something to go along with infancy. Where he'd once feed from his mother the moment he was old enough to drink something other than blood he'd started on the kind you could buy at 'specialty' stores. It was cold and had a kind of metallic tang to it but he didn't really know the difference between that and living blood.
He was forbidden to feed; it'd been the only rule to his entering Hogwarts. The number of people who knew of his…nature was a small one that included his family, Albus Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Medi-witch. There was a house-elf who knew, the one who brought Severus his weekly blood, but he didn't know its name and didn't particularly care much.
The other vampires in the bar weren't so inclined. He could practically hear them salivating at the prospect of a fresh meal with practically no consequences. A human who wandered into a bar would be killed and never found by anyone, not even the Wizarding Communities Department of Dangerous Creatures or the Vampire Embassy would be able to locate them.
No one here would tell. This man would simply be another one of the thousands who went missing every year. Nothing for Severus to be concerned about.
He took another drink and looked back down at his nearly forgotten history textbook. It'd been a gift from his older sister, Selena. She was studying in Paris, intending to become pat of the Embassy and fight for 'Vampire Equality' with the Wizarding Ministry. She, unlike him, hadn't gone to a Wizarding school or gone for conventional forms of Magic, but had decided to study the old Magick rituals that were considered too dark for most.
She was teaching him, or at least giving him the proper tools to learn. She wanted him to be able to move fluidly throughout both worlds; she saw his affinity for both sorts of magic as a gift. He would be the perfect liaison between Vampires and Wizards one day, able to have one foot in both communities if he just stayed focused. Her eyes were always so bright as she spoke of the future and how they would change things.
Severus, who had never really entertained ideas of doing great things on his own, couldn't help but be excited when she spoke like that. Selena had a way of drawing people in and he was no exception.
He was reading up on the Roman's now and next would be the Celts. He thought he might start with the Welsh and Scots then move to the Irish.
"So, boy, do you have a name?" Severus heard the words and didn't need to look up to know that one of the others had gotten up and decided to charm the obviously drunk man. He heard a stool shifting and unsteady footsteps.
"Potter. M'name ish…Jamesh Potter."
Severus looked up, mouth dropping open in shock. He lucked out in that the man was off of his stool and facing his direction in order to address the scantily clad vampiress who had spoken to him. Hazel eyes, messy black hair, glasses just barely on his face, rumpled clothing, and that damnable smile. It was crooked now, matching his glazed over eyes, and he was swaying on his feet unsteadily. So much for a Seekers grace.
The woman, Lady Elizabeth of the Cessor Clan if he remembered his History right, reached out, one hand resting in the crook of Potter's elbow. He couldn't imagine what she was doing here; high ranking and powerful Clan figure that she was, but it wasn't like the purebloods didn't occasionally go slumming. "Well, James, why don't you walk me home?"
"Okay." Potter said in a shaky voice. Severus looked back at his book, scowling. James Potter, Dumbledore and Hogwarts' Golden Boy, Severus main tormentor and all around stupid bastard was about to be drained by a vampire because he dared to wander around downtown London drunken out of his mind.
It was almost too good to be true. Severus wouldn't even have to do anything except sit here and know what was going on. Everyone would be devastated and he could simply sit back and languish in the knowledge that he knew what had happened while everyone else wallowed in confusion.
It would be delicious.
…If not a little unfair. After all of the crap Potter had so joyously put him through, the humiliation and mocking of his fellow students because of his pranks that he never seemed to be punished for, and yet it was some random vampire who would take his life.
If anyone had earned such a reward it was he.
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James didn't normally wander home with strange women but this one was particularly lovely, taller than he was with long pale blond hair and glowing green eyes and the most perfect pink lips he had ever seen. She was wearing very little, in some dark shade of red, and her words were breathy and soft against his skin. She sent a thrill through his body and so he allowed himself to be lead away.
He'd come to the bar to forget and forget he would.
Lily Evans, the woman he loved and worshipped, had dumped him, Him James Alexander Potter, for Peter Pettigrew. She'd dumped him for a rat. Sure, she didn't know Peter was a rat but James knew and if anything this proved it was more than just a form. He was an honest to God rat.
James was going to kill him later.
How could she? How could he? It was…unheard of. Peter wasn't as smart, as funny, as rich, or as powerful but she had dropped him with a cliché line about being always being friends and to please understand where she was coming from.
He couldn't understand. It was just so…unbelievable. He wasn't even too upset that she had left him, though he was sure he loved her, so much as that she had left him for Peter. Sure they were friends but James wouldn't have thought it a fair contest in spite his fondness for the other teen.
Sirius and Remus had agreed and helped him drink himself into a warm fuzzy oblivion back at his grandparents London home. They'd fallen asleep though, passed out practically on top of one another, and he hadn't wanted to drink alone so he'd stumbled out with Remus' wallet. He'd been to more bars than he could count: some had refused him and others had allowed it as long as he could pay.
He felt good. The anger and betrayal were fuzzy things of long ago and now there was just a pleasant burn in his chest and head and groin and everything was lovely. He was going to go home with this woman who would undoubtedly allow him to get further than under her shirt, unlike a certain Miss Evans, and he could figure it out in the morning.
"James." Her voice was like music and he couldn't help but shiver against her when she spoke. "Come here with me."
He barely even realized he was wobbling down a damp, dingy alleyway between a Chinese restaurant and an Irish theme pub he himself had stumbled into not too long ago. He'd seen a leprechaun or two in there but they hadn't wanted to serve him and had sent him on his way.
This bar, well the one he'd been in before leaving with her, had been much nicer to him. Let him drink without a word and he didn't think he'd even paid. The bartender had been smiling at him a little strangely but James was willing to chalk it up to the alcohol singing in his body. His eyes were wet and everything around him tilted and swam but he found he didn't mind.
He was pushed against something and his managed to tilt his head up enough to stare into glowing green eyes. Lily had green eyes but they were nothing like this; almost otherworldly and staring right through him as if he were made of tissue paper. She smiled and it wasn't as nice as the first time but it sent a strange stab of desire to his belly.
"Just relax James." Her voice was thicker, muffled, as if trying to speak around something.
Still her words were soothing and felt more real than the cool wall behind him so he nodded and closed his eyes. He felt the brush of her hair over his suddenly too hot skin, the coolness of her breath on his neck, and the almost chilled press of lips against his pulse point. Her body was rigid and hard under his hands and when had his hands started touching her?
All thoughts died when two sharp pricks, like being stabbed with sewing needles, pierced his throat. He let out a strangled noise, maybe a cry, and then a soft moan. There was a soft sucking pressure on his neck as sharp nails dug into the skin of his arms, pushing him back and holding him down, and the rough surface of her tongue over his skin. It felt good…better than anything he could think of by leaps and bounds, like little bubbles were welling up beneath his skin and spreading throughout his body. He moaned again, mouth open and trying to suck in air as if she were sucking it out of him.
"Get away from him." A low voice rumbled. The suckling continued for a moment and then everything was gone. He cried out, dismayed, and took a swaying step only to fall to the ground. He felt rather foolish lying in a foul smelling puddle but he couldn't seem to gather his wits enough to move.
"Who are you, young one?" It was her, a soft raspy purr that wrapped around his brain and caressed.
"That's mine." The voice sounded exasperated and long suffering, as well as oddly familiar. James couldn't lift his head to see though and instead stared at the woman's strappy red heels, which ended in an almost deadly looking point. "He got away after an argument."
She laughed and rocked back slightly. "He's almost as old as you are."
"None the less he is mine and no one else's. You know the punishment for taking someone else's human."
She hissed and her anger laced through James like acid, burning him. "He isn't marked and he left with me willingly! You can't-"
There was silence, long and hard and James felt cold and alone and wish she'd come back with her needle sharp bites and cutting hands. Hands did touch him, hauling him up, but they were rough and calloused and not at all the same. His head lulled to the side and he looked into fathomless black eyes. The only thing he could think of similar was the Lake, late at night in the dead of winter, black and open as if stretching forever.
Beautiful really.
"Potter, do sober up."
The world seemed to shift, widening so he could see more. He knew the eyes, or the person they belonged to rather. Long greasy black hair, sallow skin, that abnormally large nose, and thin lips pulled downward in a furious scowl. He giggled then winced at how high pitched and vaguely annoying the sound was to his own ears.
"Snape, what…whatever is you doing h-here?" He asked, frowning at his false start. Why didn't his words seem to want to cooperate with him?
"Marveling at your idiocy." Snape's lip curled back to reveal one sharp tooth, elongated and hanging over his bottom teeth just slightly. James stared, swaying forward some, and the expression on Snape's face shifted slightly. "You're bleeding."
"Huh." James legs decided they no longer wanted to be apart of the party and simply gave out, leaving him flailing as he fell over. He didn't get far as Snape grabbed him and kept him upright with a long sigh. "Hi Snape."
"I would suggest, Master Snape, that you keep a closer eye on your puppy. Or at least a collar; someone less nice than me might want to keep him." James could hear her but didn't pay much mind, too busy leaning closer to Snape and closing his eyes. He didn't feel so good all of a sudden. His neck hurt and burned uncomfortably. "He was rather delicious."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"I don't suppose you'd let me watch you? I promise not to tell anyone that you let your pretty little puppy get away from you." Snape's hands, resting on either side of his waist, tightened almost painfully for a moment. "That could ruin your families reputation."
"You flatter me Lady Elizabeth. What interest do you have?" Snape's voice was low and sent strange shivers up and down James' spine. This was all very odd. What was going on?
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"He was so responsive. If I can't have him myself I would at least like to watch someone fully feed." Her eyes turned almost glassy for a moment and an unneeded breath caught in her throat. "I'd wager he's quite the sight to behold."
Severus looked down at Potter who seemed nothing short of pitiful at the moment. His hair was akin to a rat's nest, his eyes were hooded and glazed, lips parted as he breathed in and out in short bursts, and a small rivulet of blood wound its way down his collarbone to stain his shirt.
He did smell exceptional though: a heady mixture of freshly spilled blood, sweat, confusion, and arousal. It was the latter than almost made him smile; he never would have thought Dumbledore's Golden Boy to be the sort to get off on a vampires bite but when he'd walked into the alley expecting to hear cries of pain he'd heard moans.
Humans were usually in terrible pain when his kind feed, screaming as their very life was forced to flow towards the bite and drained out through two small holes. He imagined it was rather painful for them to endure. Some however liked it and the bite was like an aphrodisiac.
Vampire Whores. Far and few between but guarded jealously and coveted by all. It wasn't often you found a human who would be willing to sit at your side for their entire lives and allow you to drink from them. Were Potter not such a useless specimen Severus would have thought he'd stumbled upon something truly wonderful.
It'd left him an easy way to get the other teen out at least. Lady Elizabeth was honorable and would acknowledge a spoken claim even if the psychical evidence weren't there. All the better than Potter wasn't so pissed he couldn't recognize him.
This did leave him a slight problem. She wanted to see what James could do and he very much didn't want to taste the other. Well, he supposed he did want to taste him but he didn't want to have to kill James after all of the effort he'd put into saving him and he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself.
Young vampires were infamously messy and harsh when they were finally allowed to hunt live humans, tearing out the throat and insides of their unlucky prey rather than drain them slowly. Not deliberately from what he understood; it was just hard to control once you'd gotten a taste.
Still he couldn't refuse. Just because she was letting it go thus far didn't mean she'd continue if he blatantly disobeyed her. She was his elder by nearly three hundred years and such behavior wouldn't be acceptable by any standards.
He nodded and swallowed, trying to steel himself against what would come next. He'd tasted blood and, while nice, it was nothing new. He would be able to control himself. He bowed his head, letting his teeth slide into slightly resisting skin on the side opposite of where Elizabeth had bitten. He withdrew them once the skin was pierced and sealed his mouth over the wound, all too aware of the soft mewling noise the man he hated most in the world was making. Blood, hot and rushing, coated his tongue and he knew in that instant he was lost.
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TBC…