Down in the dark foreboding passageways of a Wizarding School, in a room far darker then it needed to be, rested a man in an uncomfortable regal looking chair. His long black tresses seemingly coated in a layer of grease covered his thin, worn, ghostly pale face.

At a glance, most would think that this man was an over grown bat; with his long black cloak and his inky attire. But if someone were to look closely, closer then anyone dared, they would see much more. Just looking into his eyes would cause the bravest man to flinch away.

This man was hurting. He had been through more then most, and more then he should have. Having lost everything he ever cared for, caused him to become the man he is now. The man we all seemingly love to hate.

This man is Severus Snape: Potions master: Potions Professor at Hogwarts; and seemingly the most uncaring man you'd ever meet.

As he sat in his uncomfortable looking chair, Severus Snape held a brandy glass in one hand and a picture frame in the other. As he stared at the picture, he sipped at his dark drink, almost in a mechanical way.

The picture he held was one of a happy family; three happy people in a happy world, living a happy life. On the left, was a man with long black hair tied at the base of his neck forming a long tail. His Black turtleneck shirt giving him a warm, light hearted look. The mans left arm was wrapped around a red haired, green eyed beauties waist, whom was shorter by four inches at least. In the womans' blue sweater clad arms was a baby. The baby was gurgling happily in the picture, just happy to be with family it seemed.

"Why Lily?" a dark voice whispered, "Why did this have to happen?" the dark man asked, almost as if he was expecting an answer. "You were supposed to be safe. Both of you were. She would have started this year. Eleven. It's been so long. . ." he trailed staring unseeingly into the darkness of the room.

Damien shook his head when he thought about the day that Syrian returned to the manor after the trip with the Malfoys. She had floo'd in all in a huff, ranting about 'stupid, obnoxious, know it all prats' and had stormed straight to her tower.

That had been two weeks ago, and now it was time to send her off to school, in the care of the Malfoys. He was not looking forward to this.

He quickly reached Syrians tower and knocked loudly on the door.

"I'm not going," was the answer that was shouted at him.

"The Malfoys took the liberty of collecting everything you're going to need for this school year, after you ran out on them."

Suddenly the door was ripped open, almost off the hinges, from the force of her rage, "Took the liberty! HA! That obnoxious prat should be on his knees begging to be acknowledged by me. And I'm not going!"

The door proceeded to be slammed in his face.

"The blood matter is no concern of yours; as you qualify for none of them. Do you remember your vow no, your promise to Legendel?"

His terse tone caused Syrian to flinch, not only because he had never been this upset with her, but also because she did remember. And she wished she could forget.

Flashback

A young girl sat in a lone hut, far from the others in the city. She was curled up on the ground, glaring into the darkness. She didn't know why she was sent to the isolation hut. She thought the boy deserved what he goy, talking her half human friend that way.

Suddenly, the small sliver of light that was creeping through the cracks in the wall started to grow bigger. She turned and saw a tall man, with hair as silver as the shining moon and his eyes were the color of Dark Emeralds, dressed in a long white robe that was slit to the hip on either side with white trousers underneath.

"Legendel!"

The man, Legendel, was silent.

"Umm. . . Legendel? Are you upset with me?"

Legendel sighed a defeated sigh and sat upon the ground next to her. "Syrian, do you understand why you were sent here?"

Syrian blinked up at him in honest confusion, "no, not really," she murmured.

"I figured as much, and you won't understand for a great while. But I want you to promise me something."

Syrian nodded eagerly, "Anything!"

"I want you to promise me that never again in your life will you not pursue something, or take an opportunity to learn more of yourself because of some said words. And don't let words control your actions. It's good to control, but it's not good to manipulate."

Not knowing exactly what was said, the young girl nodded eagerly, she'd have said just about anything to get out of this room.

End Flashback

The door slowly opened again, and Deimon was face to face with a very ashamed looking Elfire: a species that Syrian took to calling 'her kind' by, of which she was the only one.

"So that means that I have to go, and I have to be nice."

Deimon nodded, as if agreeing with everything she was saying, but suddenly stopped, "Well, no one said you had to be nice. You just have to go."

A devilish smile graced her face as she turned and hurriedly packed.

"Oh, and we need you a wand!"