The last night of October fell cold and misty upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The great hall was lit by grinning jacko'lanterns floating along the bewitched ceiling. The moon was full, and the sky was splattered generously with bright stars. On every table a wide array of sweets and candy was spread, amongst the never-ending supply of caramel apples and pumpkin juice. A troupe of beheaded ghost-men rode through the hall on their nightmarish horses. All the students were having themselves a jolly good Halloween.
Wystaer, Sicilia, and Lucretia sat together, lost in their excited chatter. Maelstrom, Lucretia's loyal corvine companion, swooped down from the owlery to beg for a special treat. Finishing a slice of the magnificent devil's food bat cake, Lucretia had something else on her mind. She took a piece of parchment from her bag and began to write a note.
She placed it in Maelstrom's beak in exchange for a chocolate cupcake, and he hopped off the table. He crawled slowly underfoot and unnoticed towards the staff table, and pecked the potions master's leg a little bit too violently. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise, but then recognized the yellow-eyed raven when he bent down to retrieve the letter, which read:
Meet me at the broom shed tonight at 9:oo.
Love,
Your Nymphet
"Oh my, what are you up too now, little witch?" he thought to himself, smirking slightly. "CAW!" Maelstrom croaked, as if to say, "Well, do I get any gratitude or not?" Professor Snape sneered and pushed the raven away with his foot. Maelstrom ruffled his feathers and hobbled away, thankful at least he wasn't kicked this time.
"Heh... I'm going to go play," Lucretia said quietly to herself, before picking up her bag and winking playfully at her favorite teacher. Her friends didn't even notice her leaving, but she didn't care.
Breath was visible in the pale moonlight, and bats could be heard flapping through the sky. Lucretia shivered in her cloak, and glanced around, waiting. Shouldn't he have been there by now? Then, just a few feet away, she spotted him. She tried to supress a giggle as she carefully snuck up on him to attempt to startle him. But then he disappeared around a corner, and Lucretia wondered, "Wait... where did he go? He was there just a moment ago..."
"Boo," a deep silky voice whispered from just behind her ear. She nearly rocketed out of her boots, but was held down by strong arms being wrapped around her waist. "Fuck! Don't do that!" She gasped. "Watch your language, Miss Morrigan," Snape chastised jokingly, "Now, what did you request my presence here for?"
"For a bit of fun," she said, retrieving her Nimbus 2000 from the shed. Snape cast a suspicious glance her way. "Just a little ride? Please? It'll be lovely!" she pleaded. A dark smile crawled across his face, and his black eyes glittered mischeiviously. Lucretia went paler than usual; that smile of his meant something devious was in his mind. Swiftly he scooped her up and plopped the both of them down on the broom, and darted off into the night.
Nearly falling off the back end, Lucretia clung to him desperately. "This is not quite what I had in mind," she said nervously. "Don't be foolish!" Snape growled, "I know very well that you're always looking for a thrill."
After a long while of enjoying the crisp scent of October, and exploring the various sights near the castle grounds, they arrived at a large graveyard. "Where are we?" Lucretia asked, sliding off of the broom and adjusting her hair. "Just a place I rather liked to visit when I was about your age," Snape said, propping the Nimbus 2000 up against a weathered mausoleum. Saying that made her feel so small; and in truth she was compared to him, her mere sixteen years of life experience paled in comparison to all he had been through.
"It's beautiful..." she said softly, small feet treading across the moist soil. "You are," Severus murmured, picking her up and placing her on top of an old marble tomb. She blushed a pale pink; compliments from mean old Professor Snape were a rarity. He carefully placed a trail of kisses from her forehead down to her neck, where he began to suck and bite softly.
Rumors were spread around the school that their beloved potions master may actually be a vampire. After all, the fact that Dumbledore had hired a half-giant, a werewolf, and who knows what else, didn't deem it impossible. If only they knew what he was up to that moment, the puny first years would definately be shaking more than usual. She didn't care if it was true or not, even if her previous encounter with a vampire had been an unpleasant one. Or perhaps it wasn't?
Soon enough kisses had deepened to include tongues and teeth, and hands and wandered to the most intimate of places. Lucretia's dress was lifted far above her knees, and her black stockings were pulled down to reveal flesh that matched the moon's glowing visage. Severus' blessed lips were moving further and further up her legs, traveling between her thighs.
Her desire reached a fever pitch, and the smell of sex punctured the chilling night breeze. Like a ravenous serpent, his tongue slithered up through her slick folds. She cried out in pleasure when he found her clit, and traced every inch of her in languid circles. He slid one slender finger delicately inside. And out again, then digging against the special spot he knew would drive her mad.
Feeling hungry, he opened his robes and rubbed his arousal against her body. She gasped and pulled him closer, grinding against him; begging. He was more than willing to oblige, and slowly entered her. She drew a sharp breath and whimpered; it always hurt her a little, but he always had ways of distracting her from, or even drawing more attention to, the delicious pain. A low growl escaped Severus' throat; she was so wet, warm, and still incredibly tight. Kissing and nibbling along her soft bosom, he teased her nipples with his tongue, turning them to pebbles in the chill.
As he moved faster and harder, laying her down against the cold stone, her moans grew louder. Excited by her enthusiastic responses, he was having a hard time keeping from being pushed over the edge. His mouth traveled upwards, and he felt the powerful need to devour his lover. She too felt the familiar waves rushing closer yet. He kissed near her neck ever so lightly, then sunk his teeth into her veins, drawing out sweet scarlet lifeblood.
She screamed loud enough to wake the dead that surrounded them, not only from surprise, as she came violently, clenching tight around him. He suckled all he could attain from her precious flesh, before groaning deeply as he released himself inside of her.
She lay still, panting as he continued suckling and kissing. In her blissful daze, she looked up towards then moon, then her wandering gaze fell upon the tombstone's elaborate engraving. Snakes and thorny vines of roses crept along the filigree border which framed the forgotten identity of the one who was laid to rest there:
Severus Snape
b. 1798 – d. 1834
Eyes wide in horror, she looked at him in writhing disbelief. Blood trickling out of the side of his lips, he smiled and said, "Trick or Treat?" And twisted laughter rang out into the night.