Author's Note: This is the prologue of a series that I am thinking of writing. If you would like to see Chapter 1 of this story please review or email me.
Disclaimer: The characters of the Harry Potter universe are not mine, but the plot is. Please do not plagiarize. Any future original characters are also mine. I am not making any profit from this story.
Warning: This story is slash. While the NC-17 rating is not apparent in this chapter and will not most likely be in the next few chapters either, it will eventually earn its rating.
Hate Transformed
Prologue
Severus Snape was upset. Make that very upset. Not only had he just been given a new assignment from Albus, he had also witnessed Potter ruining his potion. *Only Potter would have thought to throw slugs in a love potion.* Thankfully the potion had not harmed anyone, thanks to Severus' fast reflexes. That is anyone except for him.
Now at the worst possible time, he was suffering from the effects of the strangest love potion he had ever had the dubious privilege of experiencing. From his reactions to the potion, Severus had determined that whenever the drinker of the potion felt a negative emotion towards someone, that emotion was immediately transformed into love or lust. It seemed the stronger the negative emotion, the stronger the emotion it was transformed into.
Which resulted in Severus feeling mild lust towards Granger and Weasly. While that was just positively disgusting, what was worse was the overwhelming love he was feeling towards Malfoy and Potter. *This is just what I need most in my life right now, a potion induced love or lust towards my worst enemies. What joy! And now I have to go meet Voldemort, who just happens to be my worst enemy at this time of my life. With my luck I'll probably go down on Voldemort while begging Malfoy the elder to fuck the daylights out of me.* Severus sighed, *Well there is nothing I can do about it now, Voldemort is expecting me in a hour. I may be a potions master, but not even I can create an antidote to an unknown potion in only a hour.*
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Five hours later Severus reappeared. His clothes were torn and bloody, his face streaked with dirt, grime, blood, and what suspiciously looked like the remaining traces of tears. *Well at least Voldemort won't be doubting my loyalty for a long time after what happened tonight.* With that thought he crumpled to the ground with a groan, slipping mercifully into the sweet darkness of oblivion.
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An undetermined amount of time later a soft knock was heard through out Severus' chambers. Severus, still collapsed in the same position on the cold dungeon floors, was unable to even sense the knock, much less actually get up and answer it. One more tentative tap on the door came then the door slowly creaked open, revealing a young man.
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Harry Potter was nervous. Not only was he to report to Professor Snape's rooms for detention, Snape had also mentioned something about testing the wonderful potion he had made on him. Now while Harry supposed it was only fair that since he had created the potion that he should be the one to test it, he was also not quite sure that this wasn't just some plot by Snape to poison him by his own hand.
When he arrived at Snape's door, he knocked once and waited a few minutes. When no one came to the door, he began to get worried. *Something must be wrong, no way would Snape miss an opportunity to torture me.* So he knocked once more then cracked open the door, wincing as the door made a terrible creaking noise. Hesitating for a minute outside the doorway, he finally poked his head in when no voice came out of the room, yelling at him to leave. Entering the room he called at first softly, and then, gaining more confidence, loudly, "Professor Snape! I'm reporting for my detention. I knocked a few times but no one answered so I just thought I would come in........" He stopped speaking when he noticed a bloody, black bundle on the floor.
Quickly pulling out his wand, he glanced around more carefully. Seeing no one, he put his wand away and cautiously approached what he assumed was a person on the floor. Harry gasped, "Professor Snape, is that you?" An unintelligible moan came from the direction of the bundle. Harry's thoughts were racing, *What should I do? Wasn't there something in that first aid class Madam Pomfrey gave us that said don't move an injured person? But what if he's cold? I'm sure we're supposed to keep them warm, aren't we? Should I cover him with a blanket or put him in his bed? Oh my god, what should I do? I know I'll go to the Headmaster, he'll know what to do.* And with that thought Harry took one last anxious glance at the silent and immobile figure and dashed out the door.
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