Snarry Drabble

[occasusvenustas.livejournal.com]

Title:: Bloodless and Blind
Pairing:: Snape/Harry
Rating:: R
Summary::"Harry turned his head and against better judgement, he kissed Severus. It was cold again. There was no heat lurking behind this. But then again, Harry knew that’s how it would always be between them."
Warnings:: Vamp!Fic, character death, sexual situations, adult language.
A/N:: I blame reddwarfer for giving me the vamp!Snape bug. I don't even like vampfic! But here it is. *snuggles reddwarfer for life*. X-posted, sorry for spammage.


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Emptiness. It was the first thing Harry noticed when he started to wake. Emptiness. Then a sort of fullness he couldn’t quite explain. His arms stretched up first, before his eyes were even open. The smell was strange, damp and musty. The air was cold but the cold didn’t quite penetrate his skin.

Eventually he dared crack an eye open. The light was too bright and his hand slammed down over his eyes. He felt something in the back of his mind, pressing him to remember but he just couldn’t. The last thing he had known was facing Voldemort. He didn’t even remember the battle, if there had been one.

Had there been one?

Harry let out a soft moan, his voice sounding strange, echoing off of the walls. The room had to be small. He dared open an eye again and the light was not so harsh this time. He knew he was lying on the hard floor but it didn’t feel painful. His body wasn’t stiff.

How long had he been out?

Harry cracked open a second eye and spotted the light coming from a torch on the wall. Odd. It had to be someplace magical. No one used torches anymore. “God,” Harry groaned.

“The perfect place for blasphemy,” a voice echoed. A familiar voice.

Harry sprung up, his eyes now wide and unaffected by the blaze of the torch. He scanned the room and his gaze fell on Severus Snape.

He hadn’t expected to see him and the shock hit him hard. Severus was leaning against the far stone wall, his knee crooked up to his chest. He was not wearing robes, but Muggle trousers and a thick, black woollen jumper. Perhaps that’s what made him look so odd.

Harry, on instinct, reached for the wand in his pocket. The wood felt heavy and wrong in his hand and he looked down at his fingers.

“It wouldn’t have worked on me anyway,” Snape said, now standing. He crossed the small room, coming face to face with Harry. “You can set it down, it’s useless.”

Harry gripped the wand tighter but in that moment he knew Snape was right. There was no magic left in his fingers. He let the wood fall from his hand, wincing at the loud clatter it made on the stone floor. “Where am I?”

“In my home.”

“Your home?” Harry repeated.

Snape let out a small snort. “My home of sorts.”

“Where you’ve been hiding, you and Malfoy,” Harry said, now understanding.

“Draco has been gone for years now, Potter,” Snape said and took a step back. “He couldn’t survive.”

“Did you kill him?” Harry asked.

Severus gave one slow nod.

“Are you going to kill me?” Harry asked. He was now nineteen and had faced death more times than he could count but Snape still frightened him.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” Snape said and let out a small sigh.

“Understand what?” Harry demanded.

“I didn’t remember at first, either,” Snape replied, still confusing Harry. Snape reached out and grabbed Harry’s wrist. “You have no pulse.”

Harry pulled his wrist away roughly. “You’re an asshole,” he snapped. Then, out of some sort of morbid curiosity, Harry reached down and felt for a pulse.

There was none.

Panic flooded through Harry and he backed up so fast that he hit the wall hard. His head cracked on the stone but he didn’t feel the pain. Just like he didn’t feel the cold. Or the slight breeze that was coming somewhere from the high roof. He could hear it but his skin felt nothing.

“What have you done to me?” Harry whispered.

Snape approached Harry again. He took his wrist and this time held it in an iron grasp. Pulling the younger man along, he led Harry through a door into another small, dimly lit room. In the middle of the floor lay a body. A woman with bushy brown hair and black robes.

Hermione.

Harry remembered suddenly. They had been on a mission, him and Hermione. They’d found Voldemort by accident and Harry had tried to kill him.

“Did I…”

“You succeeded,” Snape said. “The Dark Lord was vanquished.”

“How?” Harry whispered.

“I don’t know. I wasn‘t there.”

“Did you kill Hermione?”

Snape let out a strange chuckle. “You don’t remember?” He reached out with his foot and prodded the woman’s body until it rolled over. Her neck was exposed and Harry saw the two bite marks.

The memory hit him so hard he stumbled backwards and landed on the ground.

There was darkness, emptiness and a hunger that threatened to drive him mad until he sated it. He could hear the heart beating. It had been slow. So slow. He feared it would stop before he could get to it. There was Snape in the corner; Harry could remember the black eyes watching so carefully. Then Harry saw the neck and it was all instinct after that. The fangs, the soft flesh giving beneath them. The blood that poured so hotly into his mouth. Gulp after gulp and the hunger was gone. He saw flashes of her memories, all of them happy. Some of them his. He wanted to cry out and then suddenly the memories were gone… along with the heartbeat. Gone.

Harry crawled onto all fours and began to dry heave. Snape chuckled again and shook his head. “It won’t come out, no matter how hard you want it to. That is something I will never forget.”

Harry looked up at Snape with red rimmed eyes. “Why?”

“You were dying.”

“What about Hermione?”

“You were both chosen for death, one walking, the other lying in peace,” Snape said with a shrug. “Just as I was chosen.”

“I killed her!” Harry roared.

Snape was silent until Harry’s breathing slowed. “She was already dead, Potter. What does it matter that you fed on the last of her life?”

“Because I brought the death.”

Snape shook his head but didn’t argue.

“Who did this to me?” Harry whispered.

Snape said nothing.

Harry rose and looked over at the other man. Snape’s black eyes were boring into him, seeing what only Snape could see. Those fathomless black orbs.

And Harry remembered. He remembered Snape’s hand which was so cold, like frozen marble. It was holding him so tightly and the pain was so intense Harry thought he would die right then. And then came the piercing fangs and he heard a rushing in his ears. Suddenly he didn’t care anymore. His thoughts were no longer distinguishable with words, merely feelings. As his eyes slipped closed he could feel Severus’ hand. It wasn’t cold anymore.

Harry clenched his hands into fists. “You did this.”

Severus gave another slow nod.

“Why?”

“Because I could. Because I wanted you. And you wanted me.”

“I didn’t want you!” Harry shouted suddenly and took a few steps back. “I don’t want you,” he said in a whisper.

Severus moved close to Harry, so close their lips were almost touching. “You want me,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to want you,” Harry whispered back with a half-sob. “I don’t want to want you!”

Snape took a step back. “Tell me to leave.”

“LEAVE!” Harry shouted.

Snape turned and walked out the door they had come through. It shut with a loud clang, causing Harry to jump. He backed up against the wall and slid down. He couldn’t take his eyes off Hermione’s body and he wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He half-wanted to laugh.

And then he felt this thing. There were no words, really, for how he felt but the closest would be an itch. His skin was crawling. He couldn’t stop moving and he wanted…

He wanted…

He wanted…

God. He wanted him. And he hated him.

Harry rose, walked towards the door and opened it. He wasn’t surprised to find Snape there waiting for him. Harry crossed the room and took Snape’s wrist in his hand. It was so cold.

“I hate you,” Harry whispered. “I hate you, I fucking hate you. I don’t want this! I don’t want to want you!”

“You have two choices,” Snape said and nodded towards the torch. “Two ways to go. Do you want peaceful death,” he asked and then brought his face close to Harry’s once more, “or do you want me?”

Harry closed his eyes and made the decision. Their lips touched, and there was sudden warmth between them, so much warmth Harry thought he might combust suddenly.

There were hands that were roaming. Harry couldn’t feel anything else but he could feel the hands. Oh God and he wanted them. He wanted them nowhere and everywhere. And they were. They were everywhere. Harry thought he might die suddenly if he didn’t have Snape inside of him and he let out a frustrated moan.

Snape smirked and pushed Harry to the cold stone. The feeling of the icy floor beneath him and the feeling of Snape’s warmth above him was enough to send Harry’s head reeling. Then there was the first nudge. It frightened Harry but his body begged for it, pushed back against his will.

Snape was happy to comply. He entered Harry. And somehow it fit. Harry was afraid to know why, afraid to know anything but the furious rhythm Snape kept as he rammed into him over and over.

Harry was crying out against the stones, his fingers clawing themselves bloody. He felt his pleasure building and he felt he would explode if he didn’t come soon. And then the orgasm hit him. Harder than it ever had and Harry screamed out, loud enough to shatter glass, had there been any.

And then Snape pushed against him one more time, pushing him flat to the floor.

Then it was over.

Snape rose and dressed.

Harry rolled onto his back and composed himself. The feeling of pleasure didn’t last as long as it had when he was alive.

When he was alive.

He wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Why me?” Harry asked again as he stood up.

Snape looked up at the dark ceiling and said nothing.

“Where are we?” Harry asked, choosing to ignore the silence.

“A church,” Severus replied.

Harry sputtered a moment. “A church! How is that possible?”

“Vampire myths are not always fact,” Severus said.

Harry hugged himself and then tried not to feel content when Snape’s arms came round his waist. “It’s me or death.”

“I’ve already chosen death it seems,” Harry replied.

“So it seems,” Severus whispered.

Harry turned his head and against better judgement, he kissed Severus. It was cold again. There was no heat lurking behind this. But then again, Harry knew that’s how it would always be between them.