A/N - Since this chapter foward, this translation of my story 'Bond' has been corrected by H. W. Jon, and his originals can be found on FictionPress.

Chapter 3

1993

It was a cold day, but the low temperature didn't make its way inside the house. Outside, the sun, which hadn't been seen for much of the day, was now completely gone.

Harry and Snape were both in a different room in the house than usual. It could have been a bedroom if Snape hadn't turned it into a small room for all his ingredients, plants and potions. The room was a bit dark , and with the exception of the two chairs and small table in the middle of it, all that could be seen were four walls covered by large shelves, all of them with books, boxes, and bottles with liquids of vibrant colors.

They were sitting in the chairs. Harry had a cauldron next to him, and a few ingredients. In his hand was a pen, and he was prepared to write in the notebook on the table. In front of him was Snape, and he started speaking.

"Well, two days ago you made the Wiggenweld Potion pretty well, and quick, so I thought we could try this today. But don't feel pressured, this is a fairly advanced potion, and it's normal that you don't get it right in the first tries." Harry nodded once, seeming to understand. "Take your notes then." The boy began to write. "Draught of the Living Death. It brings upon its drinker a very powerful sleep that can last indefinitely. This draught is very dangerous if not used with caution."

Harry heard everything, attentive as Snape continued to give the instructions for the draught. It wasn't long before Harry's voice was heard.

"I think it's ready." With that Snape looked up from his book. He stood up, going to check on what Harry had prepared. Not even a minute later the man muttered a "hum" with a tone of curiosity, still looking at the draught.

"What?" Harry seemed immediately disappointed. "Ah, I knew that the amount I put in of powdered root of asphodel wasn't entirely correct."

"No, not that." Snape looked at the boy, seeming surprised. "It's... perfect."

Harry smiled and Snape showed a small smile as well. He was, undeniably, proud of him.

August 1st, 1995

The bed, where he laid, was extremely comfortable. The sheets and pillows were white and with nothing on top of his body, he saw that he was almost naked. He felt a hand going through his hair , and two fingers run through his left cheek, with a gentle touch.

Then he felt that same gentle touch move from his neck , over his chest and bare stomach, stopping at his waist . Another body approached his . He stretched his arm so to be able to touch the stomach of the man in front. He wanted to kiss him , though his face wasn't visible.

He closed his eyes when he felt that his underwear was being pulled down, and bit his lower lip.

"Harry." He heard someone muttering, in a hoarse tone. That voice.

The boy woke up. His blankets were in the bottom of the bed and even if sleeping only in his underwear, he was very sweaty. Seconds later , he took his hand to his head. It was hurting a bit. He had turned 15. For his birthday night, it wasn't a very well slept one. Seeing that was a little after eleven in the morning, and knowing for sure that Snape was already awake, he thought about going to ask for a draught for his headache.

He got up, still feeling all sweaty and with his body aching, even though he didn't remember doing anything to cause that. He put on his blue pajama pants , so he wouldn't go to the living room in just his underwear. He opened the door and headed there . Upon entering the room, he saw that the older man was standing with his back turned to him , facing a bookshelf.

"Severus?" The boy called. "Could you give me some potion for my headache?"

As soon as he heard his voice , Snape turned around. He took a bit more than a full minute without saying a single word, which was getting Harry a little worried and with a questioned look. When he was going to ask what was wrong, the other man finally started speaking. His voice was low and even seemed a bit unsure of his words .

"What... Harry?"

"Yes?" He said, confused. "You heard what I said before? Is something wrong?"

"Apparently so." Snape replied, as he looked other way and started mumbling things to himself, though they were perfectly audible. "He told me it was probably going to happen, but it's too early..."

"What is going on?"

"Go look in the mirror."

Harry hesitated a bit before starting to walk towards the bathroom. He didn't know what the problem was , or why Snape was looking at him like that. Even so, he did what he was told. Entering, he immediately found the mirror, and looked at himself. In the first few seconds everything seemed normal, however, as he got closer, he began to notice some differences.

His hair, although still messy as ever, seemed to be slightly bigger and somewhat darker. His features seemed stronger, which made him seem more mature, older. He couldn't restrain a smile. He liked that. Running is thumb over his chin he felt that his skin wasn't so soft anymore. Immediately, Harry thought about beard. Looking at his naked torso, he didn't look as skinny as he usually did, but stronger, as his arms did too.

The smile that he was still showing gradually faded. Although it couldn't be denied that he liked those changes, he was more than curious. It was strange. He knew that even in the wizarding world, such change in appearance from day to night and having done nothing to make it happen, was impossible. He left the bathroom and returned to the living room in a quick pace. He found Snape still standing, but now with an open book in his hands, whispering a few sentences as he read them. He looked up from his book when he noticed the boy coming.

Harry, now quite close to Snape, certainly closer than he was before going to see himself in the mirror, noticed he was also taller. If it wasn't for only a few millimeters his eyes would now be at the same level as Snape's. Looking at the older man's face, Harry saw that he noticed it too.

Snape sat on the couch, as Harry did the same. The book that was still in his hands closed, and the man just kept looking at the boy again, until Harry spoke once again.

"Explain what is happening to me."

"You still don't know much about this... but you're a Veela."

"A Veela?" Harry repeated, surprised and also confused. "But from what I know about Veelas, they are female, and that inheritance has to come from their family , and I-"

"Veelas are usually female." Snape interrupted. "But there are vela males like you, even though they are much rarer. As for the inheritance, it comes from your father. That's something that has been well hidden until now, but the Potters had some Veela ancestors, and your father is one of them . Of course your father didn't fully have Veela blood, much less you. What has no plausible explanation is why it is happening now. It's usually not manifested this early, not usually up to the age of 17, you're 15 years old. Of course that's something I'll research about."

"Okay... but what happens now?" Harry asked.

"Harry, Veelas are always... beautiful creatures, charming, seductive..." Snape cleared his throat. "These are things that they can barely control, something that is simply a part of them. This also explains your changes from day to night. Veelas magic is believed to be based on fire, emotion, love. And they are quite impulsive creatures too." Snape stopped talking and looked away from the boy, fixing his eyes on the floor.

"But?" Harry said. "What is the problem?"

"The only problem is that they have a mate. Harry, when Veelas find their mate, that is the person with whom they will spend the rest of their lives with, protecting them from everything, love with the greatest of intensities . However, they can't be rejected by that person, and have to find them until they're 18. That is the age that the Ministry has record of."

"Why until they are 18? And what if a Veela don't find that person?" Harry reacted to Snape's worried look. He couldn't prevent his heart from beating faster, and his expression became one of concern as well. "Severus, what if I don't find my mate?" The older man looked back at the boy.

"You die."