Chapter 6: Explosion and Subjugation

Severus Snape rose a short time after eight AM. It didn't take him long to get to sleep, thanks to the tiring night's
activities. Knowing there wasn't much to do but wait for Dumbledore's orders, he took his time waking up.
He stretched and pulled back the dark green silken sheets from his bed, then moved to the dark oak wardrobe. Extracting
clothes for the day - black, of course - he dressed and headed towards his main room for a morning cup of tea and perhaps
a read of the Daily Prophet. His thoughts were interrupted by the sleeping form on his couch.

Short, messy red hair. A small and fragile-looking form. Arms wrapped around itself and knees drawn to it's chest. What
was she doing here? He was sure after her display last night that she would have taken the opportunity to flee, but here
she was, asleep on his couch and looking for all the world like an angel. Snape shook his head to free his mind of these
thoughts. No need to go -there- again.

After preparing the tea, he decided to go for a walk about the castle. There was no way in hell he could stay in the same
room as her and keep his sanity, at least not right now. Give him a couple days to get used to it, yes, that's all he
needed.

Escaping the mental torture that oozed from his dungeons, he started towards the Great Hall, which for the summer was more
like a teacher's lounge. The only people there this morning were Dumbledore and McGonnagal. Snape took his regular seat at
the table and tried to look like he wasn't worth disturbing. Dumbledore, however, wasn't falling for it.

"Ah, Severus," the older man greeted him. "Nice to see you. I trust the operation last night went well?"

"Er," Snape started. Just how much -had- Draco told him. "As well as could be expected, I suppose."

Dumbledore smiled, that familiar twinkle back in his blue eyes. "Nothing unexpected, then? No extra guests staying in the
castle? In your dungeons, even?"

Snape gritted his teeth. How was it that this man seemed to know -everything-? "Yes, well, I don't suppose she'll be
around for very long. Not a problem, really."

"Oh, I quite agree," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "Quite a charming young lady if you ask me."

At Snape's look, the Headmaster's smile widened. "We had a conversation after you and her parted ways," Dumbledore explained.

Snape groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed was Lye telling all of his collegues about their younger days together. It
could very well ruin his reputation which he'd worked so hard to get. Rethinking his course of action, he stood.

"Well, that's lovely. Now if you'll excuse me." Snape left the Great Hall in a flurry of black robes. The day was decidely
-not- looking pleasant.

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Snape was right. Although the day wasn't pleasant, it wasn't particularly eventful either. He had returned to his study
(despite the obvious dangers involved) and read through a well-worn potions book for a good part of the day. After picking
a potion to make, he relocated to his classroom and started adding together the first stage of ingredients. The only
disturbance came, quite expectedly, after the sun had sunk beneath the fringes of the Forbidden Forest.

He was in the process of chopping Mandrake root when the adjoining door from his study flung open, causing a few bottles
which were on the shelf concealing said door to come crashing to the ground. He was willing to let it
slide if she didn't look at him. He begged Merlin not to let her look at him.

"Pity," her voice, completely void of remorse, cut through the air. "But I guess you can fix that, huh?"

Her gaze moved from the mess on the floor, which was being eaten away as a silvery liquid met with a blueish powder, and came
to rest on the lank, darkly clothed form in front of her.

'Ah, shit,' Snape thought. 'She's looking at me.'

"Not a problem," he managed. "Carry on."

"Carry on?," Lye scoffed. "Carry on -what-? It's not like I have a fucking purpose here."

"I'm sure you can find something to do," Snape replied, keeping his eyes on the root and trying his best not blanch at the
horrible smell eminating from the mess on the floor. His insistence on looking down did not go unnoticed by the vampire.
Irritating always had been one of her specialties, and it seemed to resurface with a vengeance now.

"Whatcha making?," she hoped onto the table he was working at carelessly, although careful enough to not make a mess on the
table resembling of the one on the floor. Or perhaps that was coincidence.

Snape sneered. Her irritating ways had never gotten to him before, but then, he never wanted her to leave him alone before,
either. "What happened to 'I fucking hate you'?" His tone mocked hers from the night before.

Her laugh was like acid to his cold shell. None of the malice from last night, and more than a hint of the way he remembered
her laughing. His blackened heart swelled for a minute, but diminished again with her words.

"Don't worry, Severus, I still fucking hate you. You just seem to be the only entertainment for the time being," she told
him, swirling a finger through the powdered unicorn horn that was in a neat pile on the table. The movement caught his eye
and he reached out.

"Stop," he hissed as he grasped her invading hand with his. Invading. That's what she was. Invading, irritating, and
horribly intriguing. And he would have none of it. He was the feared, respected and perhaps loathed Potions master and
there was no way in Hades he would let her get to him now.

"In case you haven't noticed," he spat venomously. "I am trying to get something accomplished here. While your life may
have no purpose, mine does, and I'd appreciate if you would relinquish control of my solitude and make yourself scarce."

She raised an eyebrow coolly. "Well fucking forgive me." She hopped off the desk. "It's not exactly easy to have purpose in
one's life when the last eight - no, make that twelve - years have been wasted all because I was naive enough to believe that
I was in love - " another sneer " - with an unlovable fucking bastard such as yourself. Nor is it a pleasant revelation when
that unlovable bastard comes to one's rescue, quite belated I might add, and shows his true colors yet denies freedom just
the same. You're no better than Malfoy was."

Snape snarled, despite the insult or perhaps due to it. He raised his wand from it's place on the table, and Lye had seen
enough of those to have the sense to wrench her hand from his grasp and step back a couple of paces. Snape marked a mental point
for himself at the horrified look on her face, and swung his wand to the left. The spilled jars reassembled themselves and
the mess on the floor was gone, the only evidence of it's existence was the now large crater in the floor of the dungeon.
Silence prevailed for the moment while Lye regained her composure. Snape redirected his attention to the potion he was
trying to create. He looked at the bubbling cauldron. How long had it been since he added the wormwood? He wasn't quite
sure, and this particular potion required undivided attention. He thought for a moment, then his mounting anger got the
best of him.

"FUCK!," the cauldron went crashing to the floor with a clank, the failed potion spilling across the tiles and filling the
hole caused by Lye's interruption, followed by a flurry of powdered unicorn horn, chopped Mandrake root, and a few other
indiscernable ingredients. Lye stood still as a statue, not fleeing despite her intuition telling her to get as far away
from the enraged man as possible. Incogitancy won over.

"Well, glad to see you're not trying to get anything accomplished anymore."

Snape glared up at her from behind a curtain of now-tousled, lank, dark hair. He seethed. If she had been a student, she
would have been berated, given detention for a week, and had 50 points taken from her house. Unfortunately, she wasn't a
student, only an inconvenience to his structured way of life, and he was at a loss for appropriate punishment.

"Why didn't you leave last night?," his voice was low, silken, and dangerous as he addressed her.

Lye debated. It was, in all respects, a very good question. She -should- have left.

"I...I have no idea where we are," she stammered.

"Certainly you could have found some cave to crawl into to await the dusk."

"I wasn't sure if, I mean...it might not have...been safe," she floundered now. His gaze was directly penetrating her sheild
of bravado, peircing straight into her like a heated needle.

Snape shook his head, a ghost of a smirk appearing on his lips. "Stupid girl."

Anger flashed briefly in her eyes, and her jaw clenched. He had a wand at hand, but surely there would be some retribution
if he were to kill her with it? They had a whole ministry for stuff like that, misusing magic and all, and to the best of
her knowledge there was no law forbidding vampires to kill, especially when provoked or threatened. All this went through
her head as their stare-down continued, but she wasn't really considering killing him. Killing never held much interest in
her case, and she was rather enjoying this little match of wits - even if she was losing. It was exciting. She decided to
attack a more personal area, rather than appease him with a childish retort.

"I wasn't even angry at you for killing people in the name of fun. I wasn't mad at you for what you chose to do," she stated in
a tone that, in it's own way, matched his low and dangerous one. "You washed your hands of me simply for being what I was."

Snape paled slightly, but did not alter his harrowing gaze nor did he appear to become angry or remorseful. "You weren't honest
with me. Perhaps if I'd known what I was dealing with, that whole mess never would have happened."

"One minute I'm the love of your life, the next minute I'm a mess," Lye kept likewise still, standing her ground. "I didn't
know blood held such high priority. You and Malfoy are looking more and more similar by the moment."

Again she compared him to the man he had killed not 24 hours ago. A man she must have known he loathed, although he doubted
she could fathom just how deep that hatred ran. If it were not for Malfoy, he would not have become the vile creature he was.
If it were not for Malfoy, his life would not been in very serious danger at this second. Then again, if it were not for Malfoy,
he would not even be having his discussion right now.

"You spoke earlier of naivety," he said. "I guess we were both naive."

The lock between their eyes didn't falter, but confusion was apparent in the female's. Was he giving up, admitting he was
wrong? It seemed impossible, but there it was, clear as day. Or night, since she couldn't quite remember just how clear day
was.

"You weren't naive," she said. "You were wrong."

Snape laid his hands flat on the table before him and dropped his head. Black hair obscured the eyes completely from view, and
this small gesture finalized his defeat. His voice dropped noticeably from it's earlier tone, and loss any danger it once held
as well. "I was wrong."

Lye wasn't sure what to do about this. No sense of triumph overcame her in his admittal of guilt. Not at all what she had
expected, and certainly nowhere near pleasant. He was wrong, and he was remorseful, and although she should be basking in this,
she only felt worse.

She bit her tongue and blood coursed into her mouth. Not her blood, she reminded herself. His blood. Realizing this was not
exactly the consolation she had been looking for. With another glance at the defeated man before her, she turned on her heel.

And she fled.



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*A/N* Sorry that took so long, I had a bit of writer's block going on and once again, I am horrible with plots. I hope I'm
keeping everyone interested here. I got some ideas for more chapters, just have to put them into writing.
JS Summer, in response to your question, I'm subscribing to the theory that to become a vampire one must be bitten then also
drink the vampire's blood, so no Snape isn't a vampire. Not yet, anyway? Thanks for the review! Makes me feel all warm n'
fuzzy inside.
If you wanna make me feel warm and fuzzy, too, please review. Or you could send me a six-pack of Guinness. That works for
warm n' fuzzy as well!