🕎 Happy Hanukkah! 🕎

Severus slumped to the floor once he managed to shut his private room's door and screamed, letting his barriers down behind his wards. How his injuries burned through his mind and into his very soul.
After Severus could scream no more, the vampire laid on his side in silence, his limbs laying splayed about him with red tears slowly dripping from his eyes. His only solace was that he had made it, and, of all sweet mercies, he had not been seen.
This thought proved to be a strong balm to his injured mind, as the pain of all his injuries started to slowly, steadily slip away. Heaving an unneeded sigh, the vampire laid his head upon the ground, exhausted, closing his eyes even as the bloody tears continued to run.
After a few minutes, Severus mustered up the energy to shakily withdraw his wand from his tattered cloak with his less-mangled hand and summoned his entire potions collection.
Noticing he had half a mind to ingest them all without a care, the vampire tiredly recognized his mind's instability and sucked up his pride once more to call upon mildly-acceptable help.
"Dobby..." Severus winced as his voice cracked, hissing in an attempt to warm his vocal cords.
"Yes, Mister Snape?" With a pop, the radical house elf appeared before Severus. "Mister Snape, yous needs help! I goes gets Pom-Pom?"
Severus winced again at the loudness of the panicked elf on his sensitive ear drums as the small being gripped his own ears, but bit back his sharp retort. "No. Th-thank you, Dobby. I simply n-need you to-" Severus broke off into a series of coughs as blood ran into his throat. Curse that damn hybrid.
"Oh! Yous means I be goings to gets Mister Tom! Yes, Dobby be doings that!"
Severus' eyes widened in shock and dread as his head whipped up to stop Dobby, but the crazy house elf was already gone and all the motion did was cause the vampire to choke more.
Cursing himself violently for calling that house elf, Severus attempted to move- to hide- but before he could even shift his body to his feet, the damned elf was back.
"Severus!"
The vampire cringed in between coughs at the scared tone of his dominant's voice, knowing it was him that had caused his Animus this pain.
"Anapneo! Vulnera Sanentur! Brackium Emendo! Episkey! Reparifors!" Tom had fallen to his knees besides Severus as he was casting, and he was now shifting his attention between his love and the potions surrounding him on the floor as he continued attempting to heal his hurt mate.
The crazed 'Voldemort' put his many decades of vast magical knowledge to the test as he cast spell after spell and fed potion after potion to Severus, worried for his love's life. All rationale had flown from the window the minute Tom had spotted his submissive laying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood and violently choking.

Draco hid his wringing hands in his lap at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as his breakfast sat, uneaten, in front of him. Severus hadn't returned to the castle yesterday, and Harry was still up in the Hospital Wing. Tom was back at his manor and unable to assist, for fear of Dumbledore's detection, and he, himself, was stuck acting as if none of this mattered to him. Just looking at the food on his plate nearly made him want to vomit.
Casting his eyes around the Great Hall, Draco set his eyes upon the still-ostracized Weasel and Worm, feeling his stomach loosen slightly. At least with them, he didn't have to act. The two Gryffindors were truly distasteful, and his anger towards them would have never been able to be hid.
Catching the eye of the Weasel, Draco smirked before turning back to his table, smiling at the jumbled growl he heard from the dumb redhead.
"You know, Dray, my birthday's coming up." Turning his perfectly-poised interested face to Pansy, Draco seemed to consider this fact he had never bothered to remember.
"Hm, well then. We shall all have to get you spectacular presents then, shouldn't we? Did you have something in mind, Pansy?"
The Pug grabbed Draco's immaculate arm, sullying it with her disgusting perfume as she leaned against him, fluttering her eyelids dumbly. "I was thinking a pretty cat. You know, like the ones with the gorgeous pelts and sharp claws- dangerous and seductive."
Theodore Nott scoffed from where he sat across from Draco. "You need a license to handle dangerous creatures, Parkinson. Even the muggles have laws for that."
The Parkinson heiress harrumphed. "You would still get me one, wouldn't you Dray? I'm responsible."
Draco inwardly rolled his eyes, and deigned not to answer. "Pansy, you know how I feel about that ludicrous nickname. Call me Draco or Malfoy, there is no in between." There was really no hope for it, however, as the daft girl would undoubtedly forget his threat and try again later.
"Face it Parkinson, my mother is one of the only people we know who managed to get her license to handle big cats. If I recall correctly, your father very nearly got mauled." Pansy blushes hotly and leaned across the table to get in Blaize's face, letting go of Draco's arm as she moved. The blonde subtly shifted away from her before she could notice.
"Oh do be quiet, Zabini. The only reason my father couldn't tame that stupid lion was because it was starved and crazy. The handlers had done a rather abysmal job at taking care of it." She sat back with her arms crossed, before her face seemed to shift as her eyes narrowed and a smug smirk twisted her face. "And I heard that the only reason your mom got her license was because she used influence enchantments."
The Italian Slytherin scoffed after taking a sip from his goblet. "Unlike you, Parkinson, my mother has no need for those kinds of spells."
Barking cut off any sort of continuation to the boring conversation, and Draco silently thanked whichever dog that was, only to remember that the only mutt allowed in Hogwarts was his Petit's guide.
Nonchalantly turning to look at Harry and Fang with the rest of the Slytherin's, Draco felt his throat constrict at the pained look on his little submissive's face. The Gryffindor was struggling to get to a seat at his table, and Fang was barking at the two dunces attempting to reach Harry.
Looking through the crowd, Draco realized he needed to do something, as his Cher was still nowhere to be found.
Getting up and ignoring Pansy's attempt to grab his robe's sleeve, Draco calmly swaggered over to the fractured 'Golden Trio'.
"What's going on Weasel? Does the mutt not like you?"
The male Weasley spun around and sneered at the blonde. "What are you doing Malfoy? Come to flaunt Harry's condition in his face?"
Draco raised his eyebrow as he deliberately looked from growling Fang back to the Weasel. "I don't know, I think you're doing a pretty good job of it already. Attempting to pretend everything is fine between you all even when you were the ones to blame for this happening to him." Draco smirked at the enraged redhead and tucked his hands behind his back. "I just wanted a front row seat to all of the drama."
The Bookworm's gasp and Fang's increased barking cut off any retort from Ronald, as he whipped around to figure what was wrong with his girlfriend. However, Draco quickly realized it was not Hermione that was in trouble, as the girl was shaking and pale, but unharmed.
The problem was with his submissive, as the male had collapsed and was laying on the floor in a fetal position. Fang was barking at him, the Worm, and everyone else as he stood over the small Nature Lord. Harry was flinching and whimpering, curling tighter and tighter with each of Fang's barks.
Casting his gaze across the Great Hall, Draco saw that Professors McGonagall and Ripmav were approaching, but every other staff member and student were simply staring in concern and shock.
"What'd you do to him Malfoy? Was this the 'drama' you were talking about?"
Draco turned to Ronald, but easily covered his shock. "No, actually. I have nothing to do with this."
The Weasel seemed surprised by this answer, but his face merely hardened. "Yeah right, like I would believe anything a slimy Slytherin like you would say. Stop doing whatever you're doing to Harry this instant, or I'll curse you."
His face closing off in anger, Draco pulled out his wand to match Weasley's, but chose not to point it directly at the redhead, even if the dumb boy did so to the Malfoy heir.
"Harry. Harry! Fang, stop!"
Draco split his attention between the two idiots to watch Hermione as she attempted to approach his Petit, only for Fang to growl and bark louder than before. A frown marred Draco's face as he saw his submissive whimpering louder, matching Fang in the mutt's intensity.
Suddenly, Draco spotted his submissive shifting. Turning his attention solely to his Petit, Draco watched as Harry shrunk, growing orange and black fur until he became a small lion cub.
Inwardly, Draco wondered why his submissive's pelt was now of ordinary coloring, but outwardly, he snickered. "See, Weasel, this is 'drama'. The brave Gryffindor- a weak, whimpering lion cub!"
"Mister Malfoy, ten points from Slytherin for insulting a fellow student. Mister Weasley, fifteen points for pointing your wand at a student." Draco turned to see that the two professors had finally traversed the full length of the Great Hall to reach them while the Weasel spluttered at his loss of points.
"Miss Granger, please step away from Fang and Mister Potter." Professor Ripmav walked closer to the animal duo as the Worm backed away, but Draco's Petit started to cry the closer the professor got, and Fang lunged at him.
Protective instincts crushing his throat, Draco realized he couldn't be this close to Harry and keep up his charade successfully. Pushing himself to back away, the domsubmissive slowly returned to his seat at the Slytherin table, forcing a smirk on his face as he sat down.
Turning to his annoying ex-betrothed, Draco leaned in conspiratorially. "I think I can get you that cat you wanted, Pansy." The dimwitted girl delightedly giggled in response.

"Love, how are you feeling?"
Severus lowly hummed from his place on his bed as Tom kissed his cheek. Closing his eyes and snuggling into the dominant's chest, his love sighed softly.
"Verbal please, Sev."
The Potions Master rolled over onto his back, but kept his eyes closed. "I'm... numb. Empty is the best way to put it."
Tom gently rubbed the vampire's shoulder as he delved into his thoughts. Severus merely began to doze off. "I never gave you anything that would act as a numbing agent..."
Suddenly, the dominant tensed, his gaze shooting to connect with his subdominant's closed eyelids. "Severus." The vampire opened and turned glazed eyes to his Animus. "I need a polyjuice potion."
Now, Tom had his subdominant's complete attention. Severus sat up, summoning the potion to himself, but didn't hand it over to Tom.
"Harry is the one dealing with your pain right now." Tom pushed his cursing love down when he attempted to get up. "No, I will go as you. You just need to heal."
"Bullshit! We both go. You can be concealed underneath Harry's invisibility cloak."
Tom sighed, kissing Severus' angry frown. "No, and that is final Severus. The more stress you put on your body, the more pain Harry is put through. Give me the potion."
The vampire scowled, but gave up the potion and nicked his finger with one of his fangs to let a drop of blood fall into the vial. "Go, and if Dumbledore detects you, you better get the hell out of there."
Tom smiled tightly, kissing Severus again before he stood up and chugged the potion. "Thank you, love, I won't disappoint."
Tom quickly raced out of Severus' room, ignoring his subdominant's hissed curses, and called for Dobby as he ran. "Yes, Mister Tom?"
"Dobby, I need you to get me to the Entrance Hall as quickly as possible. Can you please do that?"
"Of courses, Mister Tom."
With a click, Tom appeared in the empty Entrance Hall, mid-run in the direction of the Great Hall doors. Quickly slowing to a walk, the dominant pried the doors open just enough for him to walk in and immediately noticed the small group gathered at the front of the hall.
Fixing his love's face into a scowl, the disguised Tom stalked up to Fang and his littlest submissive in his animagus form, though of a slightly different coloring.
Ignoring the changes for now, 'Voldemort' realized McGonagall, in her own tabby cat animagus form, was attempting to communicate with Harry, but the distressed and hurt cub didn't seem to be responding.
"Minerva, would you back up, please?"
At the sound of his voice, Fang immediately stopped barking, and everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at the dour Professor.
Minerva watched Tom crouch down next to the crying cub for a second before she backed up and reverted to her human form. "None of us can quite determine what the problem is, Severus. Is your bond telling you anything?"
Tom gently reached forwards and swept his precious into his arms, the crying cub slowly calming as Tom wrapped his magic around him. "I am unsure at this moment, but I can tell that something was leeching off of Mister Potter's magic."
Minerva and Professor Ripmav approached Tom as he stood up, still cradling Harry in his arms. The little lion was asleep, but small cries still escaped his muzzle sporadically.
"You don't think it has anything to do with the vampires, do you?" Tom looked at the two professors as he thought over his answer, inwardly agreeing with Severus' assessment of the DADA professor. The creature wasn't taking his eyes off of his submissive.
"I can't be sure. Dark magic was most definitely at play, but I'll need to calm Mister Potter down and hear when this began to determine what exactly this magic could be."
Minerva nodded as she turned a pitying look to his precious. "Just go Severus, I will take care of everything here."
Nodding in silent thanks, Tom withdrew from the Great Hall, brusquely walking into a secret passage to arrive at Severus' quarters quickly and avoid any possible obstacles, meddling old fools and the like.