Blood Knight SSHG

A SS/HG fanfic by Severus Sortiarius

A/N:I OWN NOTHING, This is for my amusement and others if you feel so incline to venture with me...The Characters and all rights Belong to J.K. Rowling, but I like to venture into her playground...particularly when it comes to a certain Potions Master...No Money is being made off this...and I'm quite alright with that...Stress relief and letting my imagination run wild is all I care about here...and of course Reviews...I'll try and watch my spelling but it does tend to go awry in the heat of the moment when typing so bare with me...This is not my first fanfic but my first to probably be published...RATED M and it's not changing...I won't be as descriptive as some other writers out of respect to the characters, but I will make them HUMAN.

{A/N: I've been trying to avoid this one for a while as well but like the werewolf tale it just won't let go...Half inspired by everyone's initial believe that Snape was a vampire and my created character Severus Snape, the High Elf in Skyrim...who's looks a bit like book Snape (quite proud of the way he turned out) became a Vampire Lord, created solely for the purpose of entertaining my What if?}

WARNING: Contains Mature Content...M FOR MATURE, Violence, Sexual Content, Gore, Language...

My thanks to all my Readers and Reviewers...Enjoy-S.S.

Prologue: One Life Ends Another Begins

The Shrieking Shack, Hogwarts Grounds...

Blood slowly gushed from the open wound on the right of his pale neck. He had given up putting pressure on it to lessen the now significant blood loss. If he was going to die after all his efforts to put an end to that despot then so be it. He would rather die than have anything more to do with this deity forsaken wizarding war. Outside the various sounds of battle filled the open field. Blood had been in abundance on the grounds of Hogwarts. Both sides taking and giving their fair share of pain. He could feel his toes going numb. It grew harder to breath with each passing second. The scent of the wood that made up the shack had been among the last that he would ever take in. The lingering scent of jasmine from the Gryffindor witch, Hermione Granger had been the most pleasant.

The emerald eyes of Harry James Potter filled with tears burned into his mind. They had been so much like hers it was uncanny. When at first he felt the whisper of the boy's aura he knew better than to call attention to it. The air had been thick with the scent of The Dark Lord's approach. For all his efforts to stave off death the despot still carried the scent of a corpse whenever he passed through a room. Most times it had been so thick it would take all the mental discipline one could muster not to vomit in his presence.

The silent whimpering of Ron Weasley filled his ears in retrospect. He had never known a Weasley to boldly show any emotions other than righteous anger or immense glee. It had been further surprising that the boy cared about his state at all. Given the situation He had never known himself to shed a single tear since the night he found Lily Evans Potter dead on the floor of her young child's bedroom.

The last images of that hideous snake filled his mind. Nagini. He had set the stupid snake upon him. Even as he lay dying the irony was not lost on him. The Head of Slytherin House, killed by a snake. He bet the Gryffindors would have gotten a good laugh at this had it not been so tragic. Then again if Sirius Black had still been alive there was no doubt that the arrogant prat would be laughing.

For a second his obsidian eyes picked up what looked to be a shadow in the distance. The blood continued to run down his neck staining his ebony robes making his exposed flesh feel hot and slick. His shoulder length raven hair had been stuck to his sallow pale cheeks as the sweat built up from the efforts of his impending death.

With a sigh he resigned himself to his inevitable fate. He had no problem with dying. His short life had been marred by pain and suffering from the moment of his birth. He saw death as a welcoming release at this point. No more war. No more dunderhead students to teach. No more expectations or diminished dreams. No more guilt or suffering. He would at last obtain the peace that had eluded him so much in his young chaotic life.

His pale eye lids grew heavy. His heart rate began to slow and his breathing lessened. He could feel the cold settling in. It wouldn't be long now. All he would have to do was close his heavy eyes and just drift away. The world as well as Harry Potter could take care of themselves. His fevered mind traveled back to the sad amber eyes of Hermione Granger.

He had not liked her insane need to please people everywhere she went. Her constant need to ask incessant questions and blurt out answers during his classes had left him flustered a time or two but, he had thought of all the dunderheads that he had to teach during his short stint as a Potions Professor, she was one of the brightest and most engaging minds he had ever come across. Her passion for learning unmatched by any save his own at her age.

Even at the young age of 12 she proved herself to be a force to be reckoned with. He almost smiled at her tenacity but he had not the strength to manage such a feat. He still marveled at how a girl who had the unfortunate luck of being petrified could still manage to assist her two dunderhead buddies when no one had so much as a clue as to the goings-ons of the chamber of secrets. Of all the people he had known in his short life, Hermione Granger was the most surprising. Silently, he wished the young Muggle-Born witch well in her future endeavors. He had no doubt that she would do well for herself. Especially in a future without Voldemort and his likes.

As his pale lids were about to finally close for what would be the last time he again saw a shadow in the distance. Too weak to utter a word he had been defenseless when the shadow became a full grown man with raven hair and eyes as black as the midnight sky. His flesh had been as pale as snow and he walked in elegant heavy boots also black and highly polished.

Behind him was a cape in the same crimson hue as blood. He wore what appeared to the dying wizard to be ancient ebony armor with a strange crest embedded in the right shoulder part. His eyes fell on the dying wizard. He kneeled down beside him and stretched out his pale hand letting his long cold fingers grazed the angular cheek of the equally pale wizard before him.

"You've had quite a life as of late...my son." said pale stranger clad in ancient armor. "If you wish I could alleviate your agony...you need only to give me permission."

The dying wizard mustered his remaining strength and extended a single long pale finger for his own in the direction of the stranger. He had no way of understanding but the strange man's presence had a calming effect on him. The pale stranger smiled warmly at him revealing sharp white teeth that oddly did not unnerve him.

"If that is your wish...than it shall be granted." he said softly stroking the dying wizard's cheek in an affectionate manner.

The dying wizard had not been all too surprised as he witnessed the pale stranger sink his own teeth, which had become fangs into his own arm and let the black substance that appeared to be it's blood fall into the open wound mixing the black with the crimson of the dying man's blood. When it first entered the bloodstream, it became like liquid fire rapidly burning through the veins of the dying man.

"Relax my son." said the pale stranger. "You are already of my blood and as such it is merely awakening what lay dormant for all these years."

The dying wizard passed out as the black blood seeped into his own giving him the feeling of both intense heat and overwhelming pleasure. When at last he stopped breathing His body went limp and then cold on the floor below.

"Sleep." instructed the pale stranger. "For tomorrow you shall begin your life anew...welcome to the family Severus Sebastian Snape."

The voice faded but the feeling of warmth that seemed to radiate from his now contaminated blood did not. The images of the shrieking shack faded and the war outside for the fate of the wizarding world ceased to fill his ears. He had hoped for a final time that they prevailed in their struggle against the despot. In doing so they would usher in a new era for the wizarding and muggle worlds alike.

With the last of his conscious mind Severus Snape wished good luck to Harry James Potter and Hermione Granger. The wizarding world would go on without him. He had no doubt about that. Such was life. They had never known the lengths of what he had to go through to keep them all safe and he doubted that they ever would. He had never been on the side of angels and everyone knew it. His killing of Albus Dumbledore had seen to everyone coming to the same conclusion about his dark motives. It was a good thing that he wouldn't be around to see it.

The final wave of his conscious mind ceased and everything around him faded into blissful nothingness.