Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I J.K. Rowling. Wish I did and wish I was, but sadly no.
Prologue
Snape lay all but dead on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He had done all he could to help Harry, son of Lily the only woman he had ever loved. He supposed his dying thoughts just might be enough to help him defeat Voldemort, or at least give Potter the upper hand.
Snape knew he did not have much longer to live. Potter and the girl with long bushy hair, whose name he couldn't remember in his weak state, had left him, thinking him already gone. Snape realized with a start that his soul was rising upward from his body, leaving it crumbled in a pool of crimson on the cold wooden floor. Lily, yes he would get to see his Lily very soon now.
He turned his attention back to his body as he continued to slowly float towards his love. That's when he saw the shrouded figure in the corner, who was slowly inching towards his maimed form. For one split second he believed the figure to be that of the Dark Lord, for the eyes shone crimson and the skin was pale, but as the man removed his cloak and bent on his knees by the broken corpse on the floor, Snape noticed that this man had cascading waist length brown hair, no this was someone else. Snape had never seen this man before.
The man reached his hand out and enclosed it around Snape's wrist, no doubt looking for a pulse, when he found none, but realized that the body was still warm he did something Snape had not expected. The stranger lifted his own wrist and slashed into it with his teeth. He thin lowered his severed wrist towards Snape's lips, using his other hand to part them to permit blood flow.
All that Snape knew about the Dark Arts came back to him. He knew what this monster was doing and he could not permit it. He tried to cry out, but no words came. It suddenly hit him; he wasn't going to see his Lily. His soul was being sucked back towards his body and before he could make a move to stop the reconnection he realized it was too late. He was back on the dirty dust covered blood stained floor.
Snape looked up into the eyes of the vampire that had just ruined his chances of ever meeting Lily again. He moved his arms towards the intruder's bleeding wrist with all intent off pushing it away, but when he made contact he lost control he was suddenly holding the wrist tighter against his lips, lapping up the blood, drinking savagely. Oh how he wished he could stop, but the blood just tasted so damn good.
He was lost in the taste, the warmth of it sliding down his throat. He was getting very tired though, he realized as his eyes struggled to stay open, that he would soon lose consciousness. He felt a tug of self loathing at the thought of what exactly he would be when he awakened; a monster as unnatural as the Dark Lord himself. With that thought everything faded to black.
Author's Note: I realize this is really short, but I promise the next chapter will be much longer. Reviews are welcome.