The Blood of the Covenant by The Lonely God With A Box

Author's Chapter Notes:

Dear readers,

I suppose now is the proper time to explain. This is actually a side-story (not exactly a sequel) to my other story, "Those Who Grieve." TWG was a much darker, more graphic story than this one. The epilogue will make more sense in light of that story though. Additionally, the epilogue will be significantly darker than the themes of this story up until this point. The full version of TWG, if anyone wishes to read it, is on my fanfiction profile. An edited version (should anyone want to know the story, but avoid anything graphic) can be found on Potions and Snitches under my same username and title. My next project, I believe, will be a proper sequel to TWG, called "Those Who Endure," which will be posted here and on Potions and Snitches. If anything graphic comes up in the story, an edited version will always be available on Potions and Snitches, due to stricter criteria on that site. Please be aware that TWG is rated M on this website for a reason. Of course, if anyone does not wish to read TWG, then "The Blood of the Covenant" can exist as an independent story, and you can ignore the epilogue, just like people ignore Rowling's epilogue!

Thank you guys for being such dedicated readers!

And Harry James Potter, a perfectly ordinary boy, woke up in his cupboard under the stairs of Number Four Privet Drive. His cupboard door opened up and Vernon reached in, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out.

"No, no, please no," Harry whimpered, but he didn't fight. The cupboard scene melted away, replaced by a bedroom. Harry sank to the floor and began to cry out of sheer terror. His cupboard was safe; why did he have to be taken from his safe room? Vernon put a hand on his head. Harry shuddered and wished he could wake up.

Harry woke with a start, his palms sweating, grateful to escape that layer of his dream. His breathing was fast and he glanced around, trying to remember where he was.

"How are you feeling?" a soft baritone voice asked.

"What happened?" Harry asked groggily, his heart racing at the sound of the familiar voice. Harry lifted his eyes and saw Snape, and his heart felt lighter immediately.

"You've been very sick," Snape answered patiently. "You been going in and out, talking absolute nonsense at times. I've been worried sick about you. How are you feeling?"

"Am I dead?" Harry asked.

"No," Snape answered curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Not unless I'm missed something important." Harry swung his feet off the couch and placed them on the floor. It felt real enough. The exertion was too much and Harry immediately regretted his rash decision. He lost his breath. He must have been sicker than he thought. Snape gently laid him back out on the couch and sat on the couch next to him.

"Where am I?"

"You're at Spinner's End, and this is the summer after your fifth year," Snape explained.

"Oh," Harry moaned, remembering. "I had quite a dream then."

"You've been asleep for several days," Snape admitted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was a screwy dream," Harry began. "You and mum were married, and you were McGonagall's and Voldemort's son - "

"Wait, what?" Snape laughed.

"And we were trapped in the potions lab for a weekend, and you held me, and then Dumbledore was really Ron who had gone back in time - "

"You weren't kidding," Snape continued to laugh. "It was screwy. Continue."

"And he poisoned both of us, and you had to make an unbreakable vow of servitude to Voldemort - " Snape made a face and looked uncomfortable. "Sorry," Harry muttered.

"It's alright," Snape murmured.

"And then you broke the vow when he ordered you to kill me, and you died, and he killed me, and McGonagall killed him, and we were both happy in heaven."

"It sounds like the most un-nightmarish dream you've had in a long time," Snape observed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and smiled.

THE END