- PB – Bond: Hijo del Espíritu – Poción del Heredero 1/3
- PB – Bond: Hijo del Espíritu – Poción del Heredero 2/3
- PB – Bond: Hijo del Espíritu – Poción del Heredero 3/3
Title: Bond: Hijo del Espíritu – Poción del Heredero 1/?
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Violence, Rape, Torture, Chan, Child Abuse, Hermaphrodite Harry, AU 6th year, Post GoF, Pre OotP
Disclaimer: Nope, doesn’t belong to me. I only play with them a bit.
Summary: Voldemort captures Harry during a Hogsmeade weekend, but his intentions are no longer to kill him. His ranks are much smaller than he wished them to be so now he is working on a way to acquire more servants. A long term way. He demands children of his followers, and Severus has been the only one not to comply. He will make him comply, no one denies ANYTHING to Lord Voldemort.
Severus Snape was worried as he almost ran on his way out of the dungeons. These were strange summons. The Dark Lord never called him in the middle of the day when he was teaching. They had a silent agreement since it would be difficult for Snape to excuse his absence to the Headmaster. So far, Voldemort had respected it. That is, until today. He let the 3rd year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff brats leave early much to their surprise and unexpected joy. At least they were smart enough not to question why they were let out early.
The potions Master kept moving at a fast pace to Dumbledore’s office; once there gave the password to the gargoyle and went up the stairs barely breaking his pace. He irrupted into the room without so much as a by your leave startling the occupants. Potter was there, that stopped his rush as he eyed the teen wearily. At least he was alone
style=’color:green’>, no sign of his two cohorts.
“Severus, please take a seat, what can I do for you?” Albus Dumbledore offered. A slight frown of concern appeared on his face when he saw the younger wizard clutching his arm just above the Dark Mark, before it was replaced by his jovial expression.
“I have no time Headmaster, I…” he did not need to go on. He was aware Potter knew of his spying, since the end of his fourth year.
“He called,” Harry said looking serious and a bit concerned. “That’s why I’m here,” the teen’s hand lightly massaged the lightning bolt shaped scar as if it pained him. “He isn’t happy Professor and in no mood to wait, you better hurry.”
“Is he in contact…”
“No, I learned my lessons well Professor.” The sixteen-year-old tone was bitter, and he looked quite sad for a brief moment. “He can’t control me anymore.” This got him a raised eyebrow from his professor.
It was only the
style=’color:green’>middle of September, a month and a half since Dumbledore had started teaching him occlumency where Snape had left off, and three since Sirius Black died in that Ministry room. It was surprising how much Potter had progressed with the kind of incentive he now had. There was no way to bring back Sirius, but he was not going to make the same mistake twice, and accidentally get someone else killed.
“But I can still feel him
style=’color:green’>, and occasionally see what he sees
style=’color:green’>this time I am in control, and I know he’s not aware I’m there.” The boy explained, the hand not pausing its slow massage of the scar.
“Harry has made quite an outstanding progress in just a month,” Dumbledore commented
style=’color:green’>. While Harry explained, he had been fiddling with a Lemon Drop. “Take this. It’s a portkey that will get you just outside the wards. No need for anymore delay…” Then he paused for a moment before adding. “We’ll be waiting for you Severus, take care.”
Again, the Potions Master raised an eyebrow, surprised that Albus would let Potter in one of his reports. But then, he should not really be. The boy, after all, had decided that he did not want to be kept in the dark about his future anymore. After blowing up on the old man it had been agreed that he would be informed of how things were going and the plans the Order had
style=’color:green’>that involved him. He, in fact, was about to become the youngest member of the Order of the Phoenix.
“I’ll do my best Headmaster,” Snape responded and with that, he
style=’color:green’>activated the portkey with a tap of his wand and was gone.
He appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Severus cleared his mind of any thoughts about Potter and Albus just as he apparated. He might be a master at occlumency, and have bested Voldemort himself several times in that area, but he still did not want to take any chances that the fiend might actually be able to succeed in learning his secrets. That would certainly lead to a very painful death. He appeared
style=’color:green’>, with a barely audible crack, in front of the dilapidated mansion the Dark Lord was using as a hideout for the time being. No one really knew of its exact location, and even among the Death Eaters, there was speculation if it was in Britain or any other country.
With long purposeful strides, he advanced toward the mansion. The doors opened of their own accord to let him in. In front of the doors that lead to the Library stood Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail, looking the worse for wear, probably victims of the cruciatus curse and something else as they both were covered in what appeared to be a potion. Severus only raised an inquiring eyebrow, none of them was any good at potion making, Lucius barely passed the subject at school, and that was with his help. Pettigrew could make some decent very basic potions but he was still no master. At least it became clear what the reason for this unusual summons was. Still, he wondered and worried about the reasons why the Dark Lord had not simply ordered him to brew whatever potion he needed from the start.
Squaring his shoulders, Severus entered the room and walked gracefully to where Voldemort was sitting on one of the high backed chairs in the library. The Dark Lord contemplated the mess those two imbeciles left, his face a mask of barely contained fury. At least there was no residue from the potion. He could only guess that it had been already cleaned, but there were bits and pieces of cauldron on the floor and some of the books were still on the floor. It had probably been an explosion to rival those Longbottom caused. Voldemort looked none too pleased; the mad gleam in his red eyes more than proved it. Snape barely suppress
style=’color:green’>ed a small shudder; he did not want to deal with the consequences of others’ foolishness. He gracefully moved to the Dark Lord’s side and kneeled before him to kiss the hem of his robe.
“My Lord, I am at your service,” he said in his silky voice, with tones of humility.
“Severus, you made me wait
style=’color:green’>,” Voldemort hissed, his tone conveying his displeasure at having to wait for his servant’s convenience. Snape mentally cringed and prepared himself for the possibility of a cruciatus or maybe more later on.
“I came as fast as I could my Lord without raising any suspicion from the crazy old man,” He said inflecting in his voice just the right amount of an apology. “I was in the middle of class, as it is my Lord, I’ll have to come up with one good excuse. The Headmaster wasn’t too keen in letting me go without one.”
“Ah yes, yes. You are teaching those brats of Dumbledore potions. HE gets to have your talents available at any given moment while I your Lord have to wait to HIS convenience… crucio.” The madman pointed his wand in Severus direction as he cast the curse.
Snape bit his lips and it was all he could do for a few moments to keep himself from screaming. This was something Voldemort enjoyed, as the proud man would hold on as long as he could before succumbing to the pain of the curse. He liked humbling Severus Snape even more than he liked doing the same to the proud and stuck up Lucius Malfoy, Snape was, after all, more of a challenge. The torture lasted a
style=’color:green’>couple of minutes before he relented and let the Potions Master recover and gather as much of his dignity as he was able, watching him come shakily to his feet with an inscrutable expression.
“As I am surrounded by incompetent fools my dear Severus, you will prepare the potion those two imbeciles were unable to brew. You are after all the best brewer in Britain, are you not Severus?”
“So I’ve been told my Lord
style=’color:green’>,” his voice, as well as his face, was expressionless; it would not do to show him that he was quite proud of his skills. And that he –Severus Snape– was not only the best in Britain, but the best in Europe as well. “What kind of potion do you desire my Master? A poison or perhaps one especially designed for tort…”
“Neither,” the fiend said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Hijo del Espirtu*’ potion?”
“No my Lord, I have not. But by its name I can tell it’s probably Spanish in origin, or from Latin America.”
“Where it is from is of no consequence. I want you to brew it for me. Wormtail, hand Severus the parchment with the instructions. I want that potion done as fast as it is possible, do not fail me like these two fools or there will be dire consequences for you my Potions Master.” With those last words he left the room, with only Wormtail there to procure the ingredients for him .
The rat handed him a very old piece of parchment written in old Spanish. He sat on one of the chairs and proceeded to browse through the parchment. Severus did not know exactly what the old potion did, and he had to admit, at least to himself more than a bit of worry. He would have liked some time to do research on it, since his Spanish was more than a bit rusty. But asking Voldemort for time was never an option, so he set to work.
He first translated the list of ingredients carefully, and compared it to what Pettigrew and Malfoy had. There were at least no errors on that, but the quantities were where part of the problem lay. Not for the first time in his life he thanked his old Potions Master for being so thorough in making him memorize the conversion rates and formulas for several cultures, both modern and ancient. Some rapid math equations and he had the exact amount for each ingredient.
Voldemort had procured, or at least ordered his Death Eaters to procure for him, enough ingredients for several batches of the potion. It was probably the most complicated potion that Snape had ever seen as it not only required perfect timing, but also amounts, temperature and even mood. There were also a series of chants that were needed at several intervals during the preparation. They needed to be pronounced perfectly.
It was the chants that finally revealed a bit of the origin of the potion. It was some sort of Mayan ritual, he could recognize that much as he had some knowledge of the language. At some point the instructions had been translated to old Spanish. He wondered if Voldemort really knew what the concoction was supposed to do; and he dared to ask when he started brewing it, but he got no other explanation than that it was part of his new plan of getting rid of Harry Potter.
Snape pondered on that answer carefully. Whatever the potion was, one thing could be certain, it was not a poison. Some things pointed out to some kind of love brew, and not even one completely based on dark arts. Hummingbirds were considered pure creatures by some ancient Latin American cultures, and were used, even up to this day and age among wizarding folk AND a few muggles in Mexico to attract love.
There was some ‘toloache’ in the ingredient list, which was indeed considered dark by Mexican wizards and witches, but the amount was too small to actually be used to control the will of someone. Toloache was used in dark love potions, to control the will to the ‘loved’ one and keep him or her tied to a specific person. As he analyzed the potion, he reached the conclusion that the plant was only acting as some sort of additive to strengthen the power of the hummingbird. Although he was by no means an expert on those foreign ingredients, he did have quite a large amount of knowledge of them.
Some of the other ingredients also pointed out to some kind of fertility potion, but he was not that familiar with that type of brew. He had done quite a few of those since he became a Potions Master, but never been interested enough to commit the principles to memory, and he was beginning to regret his oversight. As he checked his stores and placed his ingredients within easy reach while brewing, he realized that the last to ingredients were not provided, blood and semen. He suspected this would personalize the brew, and for some reason he did not believe he would be using Potter’s.
In the end it took him forty eight hours to reach the final stage of the potion where his last two missing ingredients were necessary. Surprisingly the potion did not require them to be used immediately, there was a wide time range of another forty eight hours before the potion lost its potency.
Voldemort had been in and out of the library to check his progress; and there had been some kind of disturbance earlier that day, but the potion had required his whole attention, so he had no chance to investigate what that had been about. He was also busy committing the potions ingredients and it’s preparation to memory, something told him that might come in handy. He was sure the Dark Lord would not let him take the old parchment to conduct some research. He was about to go in search of Voldemort when the dark wizard, followed by several of his inner circle members entered the room.
“How is the potion doing Severus?” He asked as he took a seat on a raised chair and the inner circle members arranged themselves to his flanks.
“Fine my Lord,” he said bending on one knee and kissing the hem of the ‘things’ robes; something he had always found humiliating and disgusting. But then that was probably the reason why the Dark Lord wanted his followers to do it. “I have reached the final stage, and only need to add the last to ingredients.”
“Good, now tell me Severus. You claim and so far have proved to be among my most loyal servants, and yet you have denied my part of my original requirements.”
“My Lord?” Snape asked wracking his brains for whatever omission he made and could not find anything. Was this only an excuse to finally kill him? “I have been completely loyal to…”
“Your first born Severus, male or female was to join my ranks at an adequate age. Fifteen or sixteen, just like you were promised to me by your father and mother. But… I don’t see any younger Snapes, like there are Malfoys, Crabbes, Goyles, even Wormtail here managed to sire a child, although right now she is only a mere baby. All my original Death Eaters have, that is all but you, my most powerful servant.”
“I…” he began not really knowing what to say for the first time in twenty years. What could he say that would not get him in more trouble? That he was too ugly? Surely Wormtail was uglier than he was. That he preferred men? Which was not exactly redeeming as Avery was openly gay just as Lucius was, and they both had managed to produce children. Avery in fact had five brats. There was also the fact that Lucius knew he was not impotent, or at least he was not ten years ago. And being sterile could be bypassed by the used of some fertility potions, and he happened to be a Potions Master. “I… have no excuse my Lord…”
“I should punish you to death Severus, but you’re far too convenient to be disposed without disrupting my plans. Are you loyal to me, or are you loyal to that old fool Dumbledore?”
“To you my Lord, only to you.”
“Prove it to me then Snape.”
style=”>‘Not again! Oh Merlin please not again!’
style=”> He thought in a panic, his loyalty test the year before had almost killed him. ‘I’ve already proved myself! Please not again!’ But he could not say that, so he said the only thing he could that would get him at least half alive.
“Anyway you wish my Lord,” he responded without emotion in his voice.
“You will provide the last two items for the potion.” Snape’s eyes widened in surprise and a little shock. “Lucius or Bella can assist you with collecting the last ingredient,” he said with a wicked smile. That only served to unnerve the younger wizard.
“That… won’t be necessary my Lord.” He informed him stiffly.
“Nonsense Severus, in fact I insist. I believe we will enjoy it very much indeed,” the mad gleam in his eyes made Severus shiver. He was not sure he could… perform with such an audience and under possible threat of death if he did not ‘rise’ to the occasion.
He had provided quite an entertainment for Voldemort and the Death Eaters present. It had been humiliating and degrading, but he knew he could not argue, so he just detached his mind from what happened to his body and let it respond. Both Bella and Lucius, recently escaped from the Ministry prison, were quite skillful at bringing him to the edge, though they toyed with him as much as they could.
Severus had barely been able to compose himself and finish the potion. He began the last chant and the thick liquid, now and odd sort of red colored goo, began glowing. The Potions Master indicated that as soon as it started glowing in full force whoever it was destined to drink it should or the potion would loose potency. To him there really was no doubt now after Voldemort’s words that it was a fertility potion, and he felt sorry for the poor woman forced to bear his child.
Lucius left with a goblet of the thick liquid, there really was nothing left in the cauldron, and rushed to the dungeons where a battered and very naked Harry Potter was shackled to the wall. He had been captured just that morning during the year’s first Hogsmead weekend. There had been fierce fighting, many students were wounded and unfortunately five had died. Ron and Hermione were among the gravely injured, as they fought hard to protect their friend. The place had been chaotic, but at least Fudge was no longer in denial over Voldemort’s return.
Potter was barely conscious, he had been battered, bruised, and raped to render him more docile. Although the Dark Lord believed Snape quite capable of dealing with the boy properly, so far, his ‘snake’ had remained his deadliest follower by potion or wand since Severus did not reduce himself to physically torture his victims. Malfoy took one quick appraising look at ‘the-boy-who-lived’ before he forced the potion down his throat.
For a moment nothing happened besides hearing the echoes of Severus chanting. Then the boy began to glow softly a light tone of red. Potter whimpered and he vaguely tried to see what was happening to him, but both his eyes were almost swollen shut. The glow intensified to the point where Lucius could not look straight at the boy, then with a pained cry the reddish light that enveloped the boy shot like an arrow out of the dungeon. The chanting stopped with a startled cry of pain. The blond wizard took a look a Potter, who was unconscious, before he rushed back to the library to investigate what happened. Malfoy found Voldemort and the other Death Eaters clustered around an unconscious Snape. By the look on the Dark Lord’s face, he could tell the man was not pleased by the strange development of his plan. He had not been expecting the light to touch his servant.