I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

It looked like no effort had been put into maintaining the Potions storeroom while he was gone. Inventory was low and the shelves were much messier than the last time he'd been in the room. Most of the students didn't care about returning things to their proper places, and it drove Professor Snape insane. Mihnea figured that Dumbledore must have kept the man busy during his absence. The Potions Master would never allow his storeroom to get into such a sorry state if he'd had a choice in the matter.

Mihnea honestly had no idea if he was welcome to take up his old job again. Snape hadn't said a word to him since the meeting with his father. He hadn't seen him at all, actually. Given what he'd learned from Professor McGonagall, he had been expecting a message once he returned from the Ministry. No such message ever came.

He hadn't thought much of it on Saturday. After all, everything was still fresh and the man was probably processing it all. Mihnea bided his time by catching up on some sleep after getting a full recounting of everything he'd missed from Connie. Only she and her friends were aware of his return to the castle. Certainly, none of the Slytherins knew it and he preferred to keep it that way. The boy imagined that he'd be getting all sorts of unwanted attention once it became common knowledge, and he was hoping to avoid the worst of it until classes resumed. But as Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, he began to get restless.

He was still upset with his Head of House – Lupin being outed was his fault – and yet he still felt a twinge of… disappointment? Despite the differences between them, he still had a few shreds of respect left for Snape. A few of those shreds had begun to strengthen after what he'd done with the Veritaserum. Even Lupin, when they'd spoken before his departure, had insisted that he shouldn't hold what happened against him. It was no longer a matter of whether he could be trusted or not. He wouldn't have come through that private meeting if he wasn't. His father would have made mincemeat of his mind, if not worse. Rather, Mihnea found himself more… confused than anything else. Not knowing where he currently stood was disconcerting.

As morning gave way to afternoon, he finally made a decision. There was nothing to be gained from brooding over the matter. He would simply have to deal with whatever Snape's reaction was and move on. If nothing else, there were only 3 weeks left of term. A comparatively short span of time in the grand scheme of things. He could keep his head down and suffer through it if it came to that.

Remembering the Professor's reaction to the last time he stopped following his stocking schedule without notice, Mihnea gathered up his wits and went to the storeroom. Snape wasn't in his office when he arrived, but he decided to go about his normal routine until he had a chance to speak to him face to face. He owed him that much, he figured. If Snape showed up and declared he was no longer interested in his help outside of classes, then at least he could walk away with some closure. Even if the thought made him feel a bit sick to his stomach.

He was pleasantly surprised when Luna popped her head in a couple of hours into his reorganization effort. Pixie had been staying with her while he was gone and the girl had followed her down to the dungeons. Since Professor Snape still hadn't made an appearance, Mihnea accepted her offer of staying to give him some company as he worked. He wanted to catch up with her anyway, and the conversation made the time go by faster.

"I hate that I missed your family while they were here." She commented from the perch she had taken up on a small table in the corner. "I would have gone to say hello if I'd known."

Mihnea was crouched down on the floor going through the lowermost shelves. He added a couple of items to his list of ingredients that needed to be replaced. "You'll meet them soon enough." He promised. "They were only here because of that meeting and left right after. It was probably better that you weren't there."

Luna hummed. "You're right. I'm sure I would have gotten in the way." She agreed. "I'm really looking forward to summer though. Your mother was very nice." She smiled warmly at him.

He winced internally, but managed to keep it off his face. "I'm sorry you had to meet that way." He told her. "It… shouldn't have been like that." He shook his head and peered at her carefully, focusing the bulk of his attention on her throat. His voice dropped down to a whisper. "Are you okay?"

Her head tilted to the side curiously. "Me?" She asked, then seemed to understand what he was referring to. "Oh! You mean this?" She pushed the weight of her hair back over her shoulder to expose her neck. "It's fine. It's still healing of course, but once the scabs come off you'll barely be able to tell."

Mihnea frowned at the two small marks on the side of her throat. She was correct that they'd be hard to see once fully healed, but he would know they were there. Had he been aware of what he was doing at the time, he would have had enough sense to heal the bite so no scar would be left behind. But then, had he been aware of what he was doing, he wouldn't have bitten her at all. He was still unsure of how he felt about it – and of whether it was a blessing or a curse that he couldn't remember much.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a large paw padding at his leg. Pixie had left the comfort of the girl's lap to approach him, sensing his unease. When she saw she had his attention, she pressed her head firmly against the side of his knee before running the full length of her body against him in the way that cats do when claiming ownership of something. Finding the behavior cute, he reached down to scratch behind her ears. Pixie allowed the gesture for only a moment before pulling away to leap back up into Luna's arms.

Mihnea made a face at the feline. "Traitor."

Pixie meowed prissily and rolled over onto her back for a belly rub. Luna giggled down at her as she dutifully gave her what she wanted.

"You shouldn't be so mean to your master." She chided playfully. "You know he wouldn't have left you behind if he'd had a choice."

The cat flicked her giant tail back and forth and purred happily, completely ignoring the lighthearted lecture. Mihnea rolled his eyes. She was too spoiled for her own good. While he would have been content to watch them, he reminded himself that there was still a good bit of work to be done and he needed to stay on task.

As much as he would have liked to delve into deeper subject matter, Mihnea didn't particularly want to do it at that very moment. There was no telling when Snape would show up, and there were some conversations the two of them needed to have that didn't need to be interrupted or overheard. Luna, ever the clever one, seemed to understand without having to be told. She was perfectly content with engaging in idle conversation as he went about his business. The flash of intuition proved to be accurate. He had just finished sorting through everything on the shelves within arm's reach and was retrieving the ladder to begin working on the top-most levels when he sensed his Head of House nearby. Mihnea paused with his hands on the rungs and tilted his head to the side. The Professor hadn't reached the classroom yet but would very soon.

"It's time for you to go." He said, glancing over his shoulder at his companion.

Luna nodded, immediately straightening her posture, and gently coaxed Pixie out of her lap. Without a word of argument, she calmly brushed her hair back over the front of her shoulder to hide the marks on her neck. She then scooted to the edge of the table and hopped down.

"See you later then?" She asked.

She smiled at his nod and came over to wrap her arms around his middle for just a moment before skipping out of the room. Mihnea shot a look toward the cat that was still lounging on the table where she'd been, giving her a silent command to follow. She gave him the feline equivalent of an eye-roll before leaping down to obey.

With his two girls safely out of the way, Mihnea pushed the ladder along the metal track bolted to the front of the shelves to the area he needed it for. He locked it into position, then climbed halfway up and set his quill and list on an open space on one of the shelves to allow him the use of both of his hands. The sound of Luna politely greeting the Potions Master outside the classroom reached his ears. The interaction was brief, then the door opened and footsteps resounded against the stone floor. They grew louder with each passing second before finally pausing at the open doorway of the storeroom.

"You know very well that there is nothing up there that would have been used this past week." Snape's silky voice intoned from behind him.

"I'm aware." Mihnea replied without turning around. "But it's been a while, so I wanted to check." He scribbled down a note. "The Festooned Horned River Slugs are about to expire."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here today."

"I'm a week behind." He countered. "I'm trying to catch up while I have the time."

"We need to talk."

Mihnea pushed a jar of spiky-looking herbs to the side to check what was behind it. "I'm listening."

"Get down from the bloody ladder, Mihnea." The man snapped.

He froze, recognizing the tone Snape used when his patience was wearing thin. He wordlessly set down the vial he was looking at, gathered up his quill and notes, and climbed down. Once his feet were back on the floor, he took a deep breath, forced his face into a neutral expression, and turned around.

"Yes, Professor?"

The Potions Master's form filled the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Dark eyes studied him intently. Calculating. He took half a step back and shifted to the side.

"Come with me."

So it was to be a 'sit down in the office' sort of conversation then. Setting his things down on the table, Mihnea nodded and moved to follow the man. However, instead of leading him to the office in the room just next door, Snape surprised him by heading for the classroom door. He froze in his tracks when he pulled it open. The Potions Master took a single step out into the hallway and paused to shoot a look over his shoulder. One of his brows notched upward when he saw he hadn't moved.

"Now, Mr. Bassarab."

Mihnea hesitated, glancing back toward the office. Part of him wanted to ask where they were going, but the other part reasoned that it might be best if he didn't. He would find out soon enough. Deciding that the later was the safer of the two options, he resumed walking and followed the Professor out of the room. The journey didn't take them far. After heading back in the direction that led to the Slytherin dormitory, Snape made a left turn instead of a right, taking them to the area where his private quarters were. All Slytherin students knew where they were located in case of an emergency, but none to Mihnea's knowledge had ever actually been inside. Their Head of House valued his privacy and everyone knew how… ill-advised it was to bother him without a damn good reason. As they grew closer, he felt the presence of the wards protecting the rooms. Powerful wards – much stronger than any guarding the rooms of any of the other professors. In fact, Mihnea suspected they were nearly as strong as the ones protecting the Headmaster's office. Snape withdrew his wand to silently cast the spells to grant them entrance, then pushed the door inward and gestured for him to enter.

The room that greeted him was decorated similarly to the Common room in the dormitory. It appeared to be a study/sitting area with a small kitchen space off to the right side that was sectioned off by a half wall topped with a counter. In the study was a door flanked by two large bookcases which he assumed led to a bedroom. Soft green light poured in from a single window, its color a result of filtering through the murky waters of the Black Lake. He noticed the twisting tentacles of the Giant Squid as it swam by.

Snape closed the door and locked it, then pointed toward two high back leather chairs sitting across from each other with a low round table between them.

"Sit." He instructed.

Mihnea dutifully selected one of the chairs for himself and sat down. The Professor waved his wand at the fireplace, casting a spell to block the floo from receiving messages until it was lifted. The boy watched as he then stepped into the kitchen area and began rifling through one of the cabinets.

"I… heard you went to the Ministry to reschedule my OWLs?" He asked, since the man hadn't yet indicated what they'd come here for.

"I did." Snape confirmed. He closed the cabinet and turned, holding a bottle of firewhisky. "You will sit them the first week of July."

His brows furrowed. That meant he would be home only a week before having to report to the Ministry every day to take them. But then, that probably was the only time he could really do it. Any other time would likely interfere with preparations for the Debutantes to be held in August. The Potions Master came around the counter with the bottle he'd retrieved and approached the sitting area. Mihnea followed him with his eyes as he sat down. He summoned a glass and filled it with the amber colored liquid, knocking it back in one long gulp. The glass was dropped on the table with a thump. Snape closed his eyes and rested his elbow on the arm of his chair to rub his temple with his fingers. He looked tired.

"It appears that I have misjudged you." He said as he slowly peeled his eyes open. "Your father…" He hesitated for a moment. "That man was no muggle."

Mihnea blinked at him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "No, sir."

"He was no wizard either."

The boy swallowed hard and shook his head. He cleared his throat. "I…"

"Stop."

Snape dropped his hand from his temple to rub down his face with a deep sigh. He grabbed the firewhiskey and filled the glass again. Mihnea was shocked senseless when he pushed it to his side of the table rather than drinking it himself.

"Um…" He muttered, staring down at the drink. "I'm underage, sir."

"Not for much longer." The man pointed out with a sniff. He made a waving gesture toward the glass with a finger. "I imagine we'll both need it before this is over."

A second glass was wordlessly summoned and filled, and the man took a smaller sip this time. Snape swirled the liquid around, watching it with a thoughtful expression before lowering it to rest on top of his knee.

"When I was in school, Slytherin house had a tradition." He began, still staring down at the alcohol with a faraway look in his eyes. "Mainly among the purebloods, though half-bloods were allowed to participate if they were worthy enough. When two or more people found it advantageous to form a long-term alliance, they would go to a secure place and share their darkest secrets with each other, then swear a vow to never reveal what was learned. For all of our faults, most of us still believe in acting with some form of honor. The practice was intended to foster loyalty by… leveling the playing field, so to speak." He paused meaningfully and looked up. "And to be a show of trust and respect. Between equals."

Mihnea wasn't terribly surprised. It sounded like a very Slytherin thing to do, and he imagined that similar things were still practiced amongst the members of his house. However, he was unsure of why Snape was explaining such a thing to him. He cleared his throat.

"What are you getting at, Professor?" He questioned.

"What I'm getting at, Mr. Bassarab, is that an alliance has been formed." The man replied. "I don't know your family, nor do I particularly care who – or what - they are. You though… I do know you. If this is how it's going to be, then it shall be done right."

With that he set his glass down on the table and rose to remove his outer robe. Snape draped it over the back of his chair and sat back down to begin working the buttons at the wrist of his left shirt sleeve. Once unbuttoned, he rolled the sleeve up to his elbow and thrust out his bare arm for inspection. Mihnea froze when he saw it. A faint mark an inch or two below the crook of his elbow. It was a skull with a long, twisting serpent sliding forth from its open mouth; pale pink in color and slightly raised from the surface of his skin. It looked like it had either been carved or branded into his flesh.

"You…" He breathed, feeling his mouth go dry. His gaze flew up from the mark to take in his face. "You're a Death Eater?"

"Was." Snape said, a hint of force coming into his voice as he spoke the word. A look of shame flickered in his eyes and he glanced down at his arm. "I was not much older than you when the Dark Lord gave this to me."

Mihnea stared at him, feeling nothing but a sense of cold emptiness. Never, in his wildest imaginations, would he have thought this would be happening. He knew Snape could be harsh – cruel, even – but not… this. His eyes dropped down to the glass sitting before him. Suddenly, the promise of alcohol was a lot more appealing. He grabbed the glass and tossed back the contents, swallowing it in one long gulp. The hard biting flavor immediately made him wince.

"Jesus, how do you drink that shit?" He sputtered, not bothering to censor his language. "It's awful."

The corner of the man's lips twitched ever so slightly. "One doesn't usually drink it for the taste." He deadpanned.

The initial bite of the firewhisky faded to a warm burn at the back of his throat that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Mihnea replaced the glass on the table but his hand lingered on top of it, his eyes fixed forward as thoughts rushed through his mind. Professor Snape was a Death Eater. Yet… his father left him alive. Granted, Mihnea had asked him not to kill anyone, but had Alucard sensed any true threat, his promise would have been thrown out the window. The boy had known that before he said anything. But still, there had to be something to have convinced the vampire king that he was trustworthy enough to not only share information with, but also to leave his and Sir Integra's children behind where they would be under his influence. Then there was the fact that his Head of House looked utterly ashamed by his admission. He had never seen him look that way before.

"Why?" He asked carefully.

"Why did I do it?" Snape clarified. At the boy's nod he let out a dry laugh that held no amusement. "If it's a grand explanation you're looking for, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I was young and foolish. And very, very angry. So angry that I hated everything and everyone around me." He paused to look at him intently. "The Dark Lord was seductive. He knew exactly what needed to be said to draw you in. Power, respect… anything you could ever want could be yours. I had a place with him. My talents were appreciated and he understood me in a way no one else ever had. By the time I saw the lies for what they were… it was too late to save the one thing I cared for the most."

The silence that hung in the air when he finished was thick and heavy. More sad and regretful than oppressive. Mihnea's mind whirled in a thousand different directions at once, struggling with how to respond. What, exactly, were you supposed to say in this situation?

"Why are you telling me this?"

The Professor took a long sip from his drink and leaned back into the chair. "I am no fool, Mihnea." He replied. "Large organizations – especially muggle ones – don't stick their necks out for just anyone; relative or not. You and Miss Stryker are important to them. If they are so concerned for your welfare and still allowed you to come to Hogwarts on your own, I would imagine you've received some level of training."

He wasn't wrong, but Mihnea chose to refrain from commenting on it. The man looked unbothered by his lack of response and went on.

"This mark," He said, laying a hand over his left arm. "Nearly faded to nothing when the Dark Lord was defeated. However, it has been growing steadily darker for the past several years. This year especially. Do you understand what that means?"

He swallowed down the tension rising within him. The spell used to inscribe the Dark Mark into a followers flesh would surely be something Voldemort created himself. However, it still fell into a family of spells that tended to share certain characteristics.

"He's getting stronger." He offered after a long pause.

Snape inclined his head at his answer. "Every Death Eater who bears this mark can sense what is coming. There is no way to discern exactly when, but the Dark Lord will return. Those of us who followed him before will be expected to return to his service or be slaughtered. But our numbers now are pitiful compared to what they once were. He will need to recruit new followers." He paused with a meaningful glint in his eyes. "Part of the Dark Lord's brilliance was his understanding that controlling the younger generation would give him control of the future. When he turns his attention to Hogwarts, which house do you think he'll recruit from first?"

There was no point in responding to the question because the answer was obvious. He'd turn to Slytherin House. It wasn't spoken of openly, but Mihnea knew very well that a lot of his housemates were either the children of Death Eaters, or closely related somehow. Not all of them, of course, but enough to be problematic. If Voldemort did tap any of them to join his ranks, it wasn't much of a leap to imagine that he'd catch wind of other students who might be useful and turn his attention onto them as well. He felt his fingers twitch despite himself.

"I think I might need a bit more of that, Professor." Mihnea said, then nodded toward the amber colored bottle sitting on the table.

Snape immediately picked it up to refill his glass. "Not so awful now, is it?"

He snorted and gulped down the drink, noting that the sharpness wasn't nearly as bad this time. The warm burn spread through him, steeling his nerves and making the apprehension within him quiet down. So that was why people called it liquid courage. He rolled his shoulders and straightened his posture.

"Since you mentioned my training, I suppose you mean to use me somehow?" He questioned.

His Head of House regarded him seriously. "You suppose correctly." He confirmed, inclining his head in approval. "I meant what I said in the meeting yesterday. I need an assistant. Someone responsible I can trust to take care of things for me if I happen to be out of pocket." One of his brows notched upward. "Would you be interested?"

"That depends." Mihnea replied. "What would my responsibilities be?"

"You would continue to maintain the storeroom, as you have been." Snape told him. "You would also assist me with my brewing schedule. I provide all of the potions for the Hospital Wing and greenhouses, as well as some for the Care of Magical Creatures class, though they aren't ordered as frequently. And while I don't foresee it being a common occurrence, you should be familiar enough with the syllabus to take over a class or two if necessary." He held up a hand when he noticed the boy's eyes widen. "Fifth year and below only." He clarified, then sat back again and steepled his fingers in front of his lips. "To put it in simpler terms, you would be my right hand. Students will be expected to obey to you, and you would have the authority to assign detentions and add or dock points as you see fit."

Mihnea's brows furrowed. After thinking it over for a moment, he cleared his throat.

"So… basically a glorified Prefect."

"Hardly." Snape replied with a sniff. "You would outrank them. The Head Boy, Head Girl, and all of the Prefects would be expected to listen to you as well."

He blinked at him in surprise. "I don't see that going over well." He said. "Especially with some of the Slytherin Prefects. They'll be furious."

"They'll do as they're told or surrender their badges." The man replied with a shrug. "My… position has forced me to appoint some who normally wouldn't be allowed so much power. I'm expecting you to help me keep them in line."

Mihnea snorted at the thought. Putting someone in their place when they got in his way was one thing, but being expected to do it as a job was another. Just another annoyance for him to deal with. But still, the offer Snape made… gnawed at him. Accepting would grant him access to things he wouldn't normally be able to get without difficulty. If he played his cards right, he could place himself in a position to know things as soon as they happened – and possibly even influence certain events to work out in his favor. With a decision set in his mind, he sighed deeply and roughly shoved a hand back through his hair.

"I was really looking forward to being able to sleep in every day." He muttered.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Professor's lip twitch. "Every day is excessive, but I am agreeable to negotiating hours." He said, then cocked his head to the side in anticipation. "Is that a yes?"

Mihnea huffed and dropped his shoulders, choosing to give in.

"Fine."

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