Sealed With Lies by Alexannah
Summary: Snape puts Harry under a magical leash to keep him out of trouble. But unbeknown to him, Harry has been turned into a vampire, and the leash is causing far more harm than good. Terrified of losing his friends, Harry would rather starve than risk the truth coming out.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Misc > Keepers of the Snitch Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Hermione, Remus, Ron, Sirius
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Snape's a Bully, Snape is Controlling, Snape is Desperate, Snape is Mean, Overly-protective Snape, Snape is Stern
Genres: Angst, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Runaway, Spying on Harry! Snape, Vampire!Harry, Vampires
Takes Place: 3rd summer, 3rd Year
Warnings: Suicide Themes, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 21 Completed: No Word count: 32255 Read: 127357 Published: 03 Feb 2015 Updated: 22 Jun 2015
Good Intentions by Alexannah

When Harry left the Transfiguration classroom, he had no intention of going to the Hospital Wing. Maybe he could just skip Divination from now on, Trelawney was so batty she probably wouldn’t … no, on second thoughts, if there was one student she was bound to realise was missing, it was him. Plus, the leash would no doubt alert Snape he was skiving. Harry would be in big trouble.

Instead, he headed towards Snuffles’ room, intending to curl up there for a kip during lunch since it was closer than Gryffindor Tower. Unfortunately, to get there he had to pass the Great Hall, and today there was someone waiting for him outside.

Harry!

He jumped, and his heart sank further as Ron and Hermione each grabbed hold of one of his arms. “Er … what are you guys doing?”

“What do you think we’re doing?” Ron asked as the two of them marched Harry into the Great Hall. “It’s lunchtime!”

“Yeah, I know but … I’m not really hungry; I’ll just meet you in—”

They stopped by the Gryffindor table and forced Harry down onto his seat. “Eat something, Harry,” Hermione said, folding her arms stubbornly. “Now.”

He had already tried to get away—fruitlessly—and since he wasn’t up to arguing either, Harry helped himself to a tiny helping of lasagne and began picking at it as his friends sat down either side of him.

It took him a moment to realise what had happened when Hermione, without asking permission, plonked a much larger portion on his plate.

“Er, Hermione, what are you doing?”

“You need to eat, Harry. Properly. Don’t say you’re fine because you’re obviously not. We’re not letting you leave this table till you’ve finished that.”

Alarmed, Harry stared at the heaped plate. “Hermione—I can’t—you can’t do that!”

“We can,” Ron said in between mouthfuls. “Look, mate, we’re only trying to help. And for the record, this was Hermione’s idea.”

Hermione shot him a glare.

“You’re not helping!” Harry spluttered.

Please just eat it,” Hermione pleaded. “You’re skin and bones, Harry.”

“I’m fine.

“No you’re not! I think you should talk to Madam Pomfrey.”

Oh please guys, not you too, Harry thought gloomily. “No! I’m fine!

“No you’re not!”

Harry tried to stand up, but couldn’t leave his seat. “What the—what have you done?”

“Sticking spell. I’ll release you when you’ve cleared your plate.”

Harry turned pleading eyes on Ron, who paused in his own lunch consumption to give Harry a stern look. “Sorry Harry; I agree with her. You’re on your own.”

Now panicking, Harry looked back at the food. It wasn’t the amount here that scared him—he could probably get away with eating it if he didn’t have anything else that day. And even if he couldn’t, he knew he could survive the cramps, horrible as they were. But what scared him was the horrible feeling he had that his friends were not going to stop after just one meal. He didn’t know what would happen if they kept forcing food on him, and he was not at all eager to find out.

But what choice did he have? Bad stomach pains or losing his friends …

No contest. Harry began to eat, very slowly, in the hope that that would help him digest it. Hermione beamed, and Ron looked pleased too as he went back to his own food.

-

He couldn’t afford to eat slowly at dinner time. Harry had failed to escape his friends after the final lesson ended, and, as Ron reminded him, he had detention that night with Snape. Harry, once again stuck to his seat, didn’t stop to argue against the too-large helping and ate it quickly before hurrying to the dungeons.

“You’re late,” Snape snarled as Harry stepped inside the room. This wasn’t even true, but Harry couldn’t protest. He could barely stand as it was.

The classroom was filled with cauldrons coated in a very sticky black substance. Harry was immediately put to work while Snape, as usual, graded papers and made the odd derogatory comment.

Thanks to the Dursleys, Harry was normally pretty good at cleaning, even if he was getting slower and slower. But this stuff was near impossible to get rid of. He tried every single cleaning solution at his disposal, but it took ten minutes of elbow grease just to clean the rim. Of a single cauldron.

“Come on Potter, we don’t have all night.”

The evening passed agonisingly. By the time curfew arrived, Harry had done three cauldrons, and every muscle in his body was screaming. The cramps hadn’t even started; this was just from the manual labour.

“Well, Potter.” Harry was too exhausted to panic as Snape examined his handiwork. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any slower. Perhaps if you stopped moping about losing your place on the Quidditch team and actually focused on scrubbing, you would be able to finish your detention before midnight. Get back to work.”

Oh, terrific, Harry thought miserably. How the hell did Snape find out already? He hadn’t even had a chance to tell Ron and Hermione yet. If Snape knew, it probably meant the Slytherins knew as well.

Stop it, he told himself fiercely. Focus, like the slimy git said. Get this done and then you can sleep.

Sleep—yes, that was good motivation. Harry began work on the fourth cauldron.

-

“POTTER!”

Snape sounded furious, and Harry jerked awake, wondering what he’d done to incense him—

Oh. Right.

Eyes flashing dangerously, Snape loomed over him. Harry realised he was still sprawled over Cauldron Number Six, and hurriedly sat up straight.

“Does this look like Gryffindor Tower, Potter?” Snape hissed.

“Um, no sir.” Harry clamped his jaws together tightly to avoid yawning in his teacher’s face.

“Yet you seem somewhat confused as to the purpose of this classroom. It is not a common room or a dormitory, Potter. As such, you are not permitted to treat it as if it was.” Snape eyed him evilly. “Stand up.”

Harry swallowed nervously, and dragged himself to his feet.

“Sometime this week, Potter.” Once Harry was standing, Snape continued, “You are to serve the rest of your detention standing. Should your lazy backside come into contact with the floor again, I will place upon it a Stinging Hex so strong that you will not be able to sit down for a month. Is that clear?”

“B-b-but sir …”

“Don’t answer back, Potter! I said is that clear?

Harry nodded shakily. “Y-yessir.”

Remain on his feet for the rest of his detention? He was having trouble keeping upright already!

Harry swayed dangerously as he finished the sixth cauldron, and moved onto the seventh.

Only twenty-three to go.

And then the cramps started. It was all Harry could do to keep from gasping aloud as the first one rippled through him. He seized the nearest desk to stop himself falling to the ground.

“Potter, what do you think you’re playing at now?”

Snape wouldn’t show any mercy, Harry knew. As much as he wanted to beg for reprieve, he bit his tongue.

“Sorry, sir,” he gasped. “Just—slipped.”

He was never going to last. He could barely move for the pain. His legs weren’t going to hold him for much longer.

Well? What are you waiting for?”

He would not pass out in front of Snape. He would not pass out in front of Snape. Anyone but Snape …

Harry tried taking a step in the direction of the door, but wobbled, his legs like rubber. He clung tighter to the edge of the desk, which he still hadn’t let go of.

“Potter?”

Harry shook himself, suddenly aware that Snape had moved. The man was now standing directly in front of him, frowning but not glaring. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Um …”

His vision was blurring. This was not good. Harry tried to make another break for the door, but after two steps, his legs gave way completely.

-

Severus was startled as his least favourite student collapsed in front of him. Potter was deathly pale and, Severus discovered upon checking his pulse, cold and clammy.

Drat. The boy was sick. Now he was going to get a nice little lecture from Minerva and Poppy on the importance of not keeping students in detention past their bedtimes.

He pushed aside the slight twinge of guilt that he’d assigned such a difficult task when the boy was already ailing, and examined him more closely. Potter was still conscious, which surprised him, but very groggy.

“S-sorry Professor,” Potter mumbled, trying to get up. Severus sighed in exasperation and pushed him back down. “Prof—?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, why did you not just say you were ill?” Severus grumbled as he conjured a stretcher. “Is your pride really that enormous? Gryffindors.

“Like you’d’ve let me off,” Potter mumbled sleepily. “’M’not stupid.”

He cried out in surprise and tried to fight Severus off when he moved him onto a conjured stretcher.

Ouch! Kindly save your juvenile temper tantrums for when I don’t have to deal with you.” Severus flicked his wand, the stretcher levitated, and he began the journey to the Hospital Wing.

To be continued...


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