A/N: I was thinking about how hard it is for me to write anything at all about my favourite HP character, and this dropped out of my brain. P.S., no, it's not Voldemort - I'm not certain who it is, but it isn't him.
Severus Snape stands patiently, his dark eyes half-lidded, his thin hands folded together over his black robe, the moonlight glinting off his black, greasy hair.
Before him on the Forest path stands another man, also black-clad, with strange, pale blue eyes and silver hair. His features have a vaguely reptilian cast to them - it's not unattractive, really, only slightly disturbing. "Tell me your secrets, boy," the reptile-man whispers in a low tenor, walking round the potions master.
No response.
"Come now," the reptile-man cajoles, cocking his head slightly, "not even a hint, dear Severus?"
Nothing.
"Surely, surely you must know how very good I am at keeping secrets?" As the reptile-man speaks these words, his eyes flash silver for an instant, and, for that same instant, a forked tongue is visible between his lips - and then both are gone.
Silence.
"The Gods know - and you know - how long I have been keeping my own secrets. I, who have been both hunter and quarry in the selfsame Forest in which we stand tonight - I, who have lived in secret for countless millennia myself."
Without truly moving, Severus seems to relent, meeting the other man's eyes fearlessly - though few others could do the same. "Very well, then, Collector," the potions master replies, "if my secrets are so important to you, then you shall have them."
The reptile-man smiles, neither unkindly nor unpleasantly, and both creatures disappear into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, speaking to one another in their low voices.