The Leader

Chapter 10

Attraction

Harry froze completely, looking like a sculpture, one that even made Michelangelo's David pale in comparison next to it. For a full minute, he tried to regain control of the fury consuming him whole. Everyone was terrified of him, absolutely everyone he met. They would never dare cross him, never invade his privacy in such a manner. Not without knowing they would be killed for it. Everything he owned personally was here in the manor, the books at the warehouse were in fact books he had triples of, and the second ones had been sold if he'd been willing to part with them. He'd never had privacy until he was eleven years old; Kai had sworn never to go into his private wing, and he never had. Harry's rooms had been at the left side his (Kai's) manor, which now belonged to him. Kai had left him everything, since he didn't have any other family. Harry was extremely possessive of his things, not having anything growing up. Even now it had just gotten steadily worse; he didn't regard it as a problem, but others might think it was. The only thing was, nobody had the guts to speak up and say what they felt. Other than this guy, who had been amongst his possessions; he could smell him everywhere. Harry wished he could say he was surprised by this, but he wasn't. Severus had to be the most impatient wizard he'd had ever met. He really did have a death wish; the worst of it was, he hadn't forbidden him from going anywhere.

Harry stalked forward, his face a blank mask, getting right up in the Potions Master's face. Snape just stood there, just as impassive as him, although Harry could see a glimmer of sheepishness in his eyes. "If that had been anyone else, they would already be dead where they stood," Harry whispered darkly, never removing his eyes from Severus'.

"Then why haven't you already?" enquired Severus, his voice silky and smooth, the darkness lurking behind his voice as well. He couldn't deny he was wary of Harry; vampires were extremely hostile creatures when they wanted to be. Another part of him revelled in the banter― how often did this happen, after all? Although it wasn't exactly banter, he was in the wrong and he knew it. He just couldn't help himself, he wanted to find out why Harry had become the man he was. He had to before he died, and he wasn't sure how long he had left.

"I should," whispered Harry, but the reactions his body was having at Severus' close proximity weren't exactly screaming...kill. Which irritated him; he was a bloody leader, and actions like this could see him being construed as weak. It would have others trying to usurp him, and that was the last thing he needed.

"Get in line," sneered Severus, without any self pity. He'd always known he wouldn't survive the war. Not that it had bothered him really; he didn't have much to live for. How could he, when he constantly had to answer to two wizards who believed they had complete control of his life? To make matters worse, he wasn't the first one Dumbledore had used, and it sickened him to the core. Here he was thinking he was a Slytherin, trying to see it through, when that was exactly what Dumbledore expected him to do. He didn't know the others in the file he'd been reading, but their incarcerations were rather vicious. Mostly because they had 'let their precious leader down;' he'd expressed a deep, profound disappointment, 'after giving them a second chance'. In his mind he'd known he was nothing but a convenient tool for Albus, that he would be discarded once his use was over with. Seeing how many others he'd screwed over shocked him though. Just how blinded was everyone, that he could continue to do this? Hell, walking into the Ministry dragging five Muggles, two Death Eaters, and five innocent people and claiming they'd let him down and killing them... he would still get away with it. If there was a way he could bring Dumbledore down, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Harry arched an eyebrow silently demanding an explanation; he didn't know if Snape was just a coward or if he was just genuinely too tired to continue on trying to live. He couldn't really call him a coward; he understood what that was like, and ten years at the Dursleys' would do that to anyone. He'd had hope that one day his life would be better…for someone who's never had any…well, it hit home to him on a personal level. He'd remained distant with the majority of his coven, stepping in when they needed help without making it seem obvious, and would die for each of them, since they would do the same in their turn. Yet none of them had the history this man did; he didn't have a full picture yet, but he didn't think it would take much to get it. "Meaning?" asked Harry stepping back, still observing him closely.

Severus abruptly removed the shirt which he'd been wearing since wakening up. He had, though, as soon as possible put trousers on. Without his favourite cloak he felt extremely naked; he'd worn it for so long it had been a big part of him. The only time he didn't wear it was in his quarters and at Death Eater meetings. Everything he owned was in his quarters…or was; it depended on how quickly Dumbledore would have it emptied. When the shirt was removed, Harry saw immediately what the problem was.

"How painful is it?" asked Harry, grabbing a hold of Severus' elbow and gazing at the blazing black Dark Mark. Half-way up his arm his veins were black with a greenish tint, as if the tattoo was infecting him. All around the outside of the Mark was red and angry looking; he didn't need to be a genius to realize where it was going to travel to: his heart.

Severus gritted his teeth. "Very," replied the tense wizard, unable to reclaim his arm. Harry's grip was far too tight.

Harry touched the mark, feeling the blood pulse quicker under his finger. It was so hot compared to the surrounding skin, definitely some sort of infection. He liked to think that Severus had at least tried a potion to get rid of infections; if he hadn't, he wasn't sure how he could prevent himself from going nuts at the wizard.

Severus inhaled sharply, biting down a sigh of relief; the coldness against his irritated throbbing skin felt great. It made the pain disappear, however short a time the finger was on it. Coldness, he hadn't thought about that, he'd just been trying to fix it instead of elevating the pain. Which was extreme sometimes; it was getting more painful as each hour passed. What concerned him was the fact it had happened so quickly and without him realizing what was going on.

"Have you taken any potions?" Harry asked, his voice curt, magic lashing out in warning, making sure the wizard didn't lie to him.

"They aren't working," sneered Severus, trying to yank back again but failing. The potions were very well made, expertly done, nearing his level but just a little off in colour, but that didn't affect the consistency. No amount of potion would help this infection, nor would any other potion. He'd even taken a cure for poisons, again it had no effect.

Harry held out his hand, non-verbally calling for a potion as he pressed Severus into sitting on the bed. He was not happy, Harry could tell by the look on his face. He stayed though, so he was either desperate to survive or just couldn't care. Harry moved a chair over to sit down, so he wasn't hovering over Severus who had tensed noticeably. Grasping onto his arm again, he caught the potion in mid air, sensing Severus' unease.

"Drink," said Harry, handing over the numbing potion. It was better to be consumed than applied topically, it was more effective. "Don't argue."

Severus' entire face was twitching in suppressed fury; nobody told him what to do. Especially not a boy who'd only been on this planet for eighteen years! He was older than Harry, damn it; he could barely tolerate Poppy helping him when he desperately needed it. She was a nurse, it was her duty; there was no reason for the boy to be doing this…no, not a boy, never a boy in anyone's definition of the word. Harry was a young man, a vampire and leader to boot, so why was he helping him? He didn't like things he couldn't understand... and Harry was one of them.

"Severus, I am trying to help you, potentially save your life; why would you screw your face up at it?" asked Harry, removing his hand from Severus' elbow and leaning back against the chair.

"Only because you want something," snapped Severus, his consternation evident.

"And what is that?" asked Harry, looking bored but deeply serious. "Power? I have enough of my own, and a power base that surpasses anyone else's in the world. Information? Haven't you already been reading it? I need nothing from you, nothing I can't get on my own at any rate. Potions? Again I can brew my own, and I have no need for you to brew anything for me. You are powerful, perhaps one of the top ten that I've met; you got the shit end of a deal, but the only reason you survived was because of the Vow. But if you break my privacy again, nothing, not even that, will protect you."

"It doesn't explain allowing me to stay here," said Severus, still suspicious but a great deal of it had deflated. If he wasn't needed, why on earth was he accommodating him? He was quite frankly baffled, flummoxed; again nothing was making sense. He was used to predicting the world around him, now he felt as if he was in some sort of parallel dimension. The fact he wasn't needed though was a blow to his ego; he was used to being needed for something, whether the intentions were evil or honourable.

Harry sighed, brushing his hand through his long hair, observing Severus in impatience. "What do you think I started here? A place where people could come, those unaccepted by 'polite' society. Where they can practice whatever magic they like without being condemned for it. A place where they can be a family, and form friendships they otherwise wouldn't be able to. The vampires get blood when they need it, and the werewolves get the potion so they can make it easier during the full moon. While the other guys' needs aren't as easy to help, they have people here who understand them and that... that is what I started. Yes, we fight for territory; yes, they swear to protect me if they need to, but what they get in return is more important." It's what Kai had wanted, although it had been mingled with the need for revenge on the coven that had killed him. After that one time, he'd never killed needlessly.

"You expect me to believe that's why you started it? If you came out about whom you are, the support you could have had would have been immeasurable. Poor misunderstood, betrayed Harry Potter, with something else devastating his young life; regardless the hero shouldered on," said Severus, rancour coating his voice.

"Is that jealously I hear? You? And here I was, thinking you were the only one in the world who saw past the fucking picture the stupid world had created of me," snapped Harry, irritated.

"I am not jealous," sneered Severus, disgusted.

"No? I find that hard to believe. The tone of your voice would indicate otherwise. I had nothing to do with surviving that attack; my mother successfully cast a rune protection spell seconds before her death, using her sacrifice to enable it. I do not know where the Boy-Who-Lived story began; it wasn't even in the Daily Prophet when the paper wrote about my parents' death. Not until two days afterwards, then the story began; up until then it was just exactly what happened. James and Lily died and I survived, and 'You-Know-Know' was destroyed," stated Harry. "I was one year old, and I can't believe you of all people believe the shit you read." Standing up, he moved as far away as he could from Severus, as if his stench was foul and he couldn't stand to be within ten feet of him without a barge pole between them. Harry's eyes narrowed when he saw the wizard shifting; he knew.

"You know," said Harry growling low in his throat. "Do not bring up Dumbledore's name; I swear I won't be responsible for what I do to the disgusting, wrinkled, manipulative bastard."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," said Severus, his voice tense. He sounded furious, then again he'd been furious with Dumbledore over the prophecy. From what he could remember, Harry had adored the ground Dumbledore walked on; it had been disgusting really. "What made you hate him?" he asked, quietly enduring the pain and keeping it hidden.

"Back to that?" asked Harry dryly. So, Dumbledore had begun the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense? He shouldn't have been surprised; because of him the entire world thought he was responsible for bringing Voldemort down. No, he knew why: the prophecy. But Dumbledore had made it literally impossible for him to get out of it... if he'd remained in the magical world. Thank Merlin he didn't give a shit about many of the wizards and witches. As much as he wanted to make them pay for pinning all their hopes, dreams, and bloody demands on his shoulders, he'd never let anything happen to his people. "Are you going to take the potion and allow me to help you?"

"If you tell me about your past, yes," said Severus, knowing it wasn't much of a bargain.

"You know all about me, after all I was Hogwarts' newest celebrity," said Harry, his voice sneering two particular words.

"Touché," drawled Severus, he hadn't said anything that wasn't strictly true. He opened his mouth, ready to say something else, but before he could so much as get a single letter of a word out, he doubled over as a particularly vicious stab of pain overcame him. Clamping his hand over the mark, he squashed it, unable to breathe for the agony thrumming through him.

"Easy, you might want to breathe," said Harry stepping back beside him, opening the vial and waiting for Severus to ride the pain out.

"Easier…said…than…done," rasped Severus, panting as it ceased for a moment. With shaky hands, no witty comeback, too sore to even think of one, he drank the potion, without so much as a grimace. It began working immediately, allowing Severus to sit up straighter, too proud to allow anyone to see him at less than his best. Well, any more than he already had done, and the vampire said nothing about it.

"This might hurt…despite the potion," said Harry blankly, holding onto his arm.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" demanded Severus, grunting in frustration unable to beat the strength of a vampire. "Do not bite me." He would deny his voice squeaked until his dying day.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do, but you won't be infected," said Harry. If this didn't work he didn't know what would. Even then it was probably only a temporary solution; he would just be delaying the inevitable for a few months. Even turning him wouldn't help; the magic in the mark would still be there. Baring his teeth, he bit down on the mark, and began the process of sucking the poison from the wound. He could barely keep from gagging in disgust, the smell and taste of it was fucking disgusting. Stopping, he spat the black poison into the bin, feeling utterly revolted. Nonetheless he continued until Snape's veins were no longer black, the underlying colour was still there though, confirming Harry's suspicions that this was indeed a temporary measure.

"When did you notice this? And how far along was it?" asked Harry, after refreshing his mouth. He hadn't gotten a good glimpse when he'd been shown it earlier.

"It probably started the second I got away from the Dark Lord," said Severus, wrapping bandages around his wound magically, before returning his wand to its holster. "I didn't notice it until a few hours ago." More specifically, while he was reading the recipe about Harry's version of Veritaserum he'd felt it burning. He'd shrugged it off, but then began to realize it felt different, more menacing. He knew his days were numbered but he found he didn't really care.

"It moves fast; turning you wouldn't change it, but like all things there's a solution if you look hard enough," stated Harry simply.

"Why do you never answer anything personal?" enquired Severus. Thank Merlin the pain was gone; surprisingly not even the bite hurt, but given time he was sure it would.

"You tell me why I should, and then I will answer something," stated Harry standing up and removing the chair to its corner in the room.

Severus could find nothing to say to reply to that statement.

"Why are you so desperate to find out about my life?" asked Harry, curiously, his mind drifting from idea to idea on how to stop the mark claiming Severus' life.

"Other than the fact you made me break my vow?" Severus replied sardonically.

"I made you?" replied Harry, incredulity wafting off him in waves. "You have no right laying that at my feet... you know what? Fuck you." With that Harry left, knowing if he stayed he would do something he would later regret…maybe.

Editing done by Jordre thank you :)