Title - To Consort With The Devil 8 of ?

Rating - PG-13/T

Disclaimer - I own none of this, it all belongs to Rowling. No sex, slash or profanity.

Spoilers - None, this is an AU and as such HBP never happened.

Summary - Lost and Found?

A/N - Not much action in this chapter, it mostly sets things up for the next couple of parts. More soon (hopefully). Thanks for all your reviews and patience!

To Consort With The Devil

Chapter 8

A long day of strategizing with the Order and answering endless communications from the Ministry had finally come to an end and Dumbledore could finally indulge in some contemplation by the hearth. This activity allowed him the chance to lose himself in the graceful, relaxing dance of the flames and recharge his mind and spirit for tomorrow. He was gazing absently into the fire when the soft whoosh of wings alerted him to the arrival of yet another owl. Dumbledore pulled himself together and looked up in time to see the menacing black owl land on his desk and glare at him with its golden eyes.

'Only Tom would have an owl that was as dark and imperious as he is,' thought Dumbledore as the owl hooted impatiently for him to take his letter. He swiftly untied the letter tied to the owl's leg and once freed of its burden, the owl nipped at his fingers and took off into the night, back to its dark master.

For several tense moments the letter lay unopened in his hands as Dumbledore stared at it, the only sound coming from the crackling fire and the rapid beating of his own anxious heart. Finally, he turned it over and frowned at the hauntingly familiar handwriting underneath the ancient seal of the House of Slytherin. It was obviously from Tom and hopefully contained word about Severus.

Did he dare open it and read the news inside, or ignore it and be spared the grief that was constantly looming over him since Severus had disappeared? Dumbledore found he could not answer that particular question and stood uncertain by his desk for several long minutes until he could work up the courage to open it. With a pounding heart and held breath, he broke the seal of the letter and quickly scanned its contents, bracing himself for the worst. Instead, sheer relief made his knees go weak and he stumbled into a chair, overwhelmed by a joy he had not felt in many, many years. He read and reread Tom's letter until the anxiety and fear that had had a stranglehold on his soul for so many weeks dissipated, only to be replaced by an unsure seed of hope.

Severus was alive. He was alive and awaiting rescue in the Forbidden Forest, just south of the centaur's realm and east of Aragog's den.

Trembling fingers dropped the letter to the floor as Dumbledore swiftly donned his cloak and sent his patronus down ahead to Hagrid's hut as a way to alert the gamekeeper of his arrival. He would need Hagrid's help in navigating the forest and they had no time to waste. He had a Potions master to find.

- & -

The Forbidden Forest was, as many people learned the hard way, forbidden for a reason. Many magical and non-magical predators, covering all spectrums of life, called the Forest their home. Most of them were ferocious carnivores that did not discriminate when it came to dinner and easily counted humans as among their dining options. At any given time while in the Forest, an unsuspecting wizard could be hunted and watched by several different predators. Considering how many foolish witches and wizards entered the Forest looking for adventure and glory, it was a miracle worthy of Merlin that any of them escaped the claws and fangs of hungry creatures.

So it was just Snape's luck that none of these predators were now interested in an easy wizard meal, despite the disturbing amount of blood that was seeping into the forest floor and the inability of said meal to fight back or escape.

Snape groaned and shifted uncomfortably against the tree he had been left at, wishing for the hundredth time that one of the forest's infamous monsters would come and end his life, such as it was. He then cursed Wormtail for not leaving him somewhere deeper in the Forest where he was more likely to die before Albus found him.

The slimy rat had kindly informed him that an owl had already been sent ahead to Dumbledore with instructions on where he could find the Potions master. The old fool was probably on his way right now, preparing to ruin Snape's attempt to meet a quick and much-needed death. Dumbledore would be overjoyed to find him and would bring him back to the castle, heal his wounds and welcome him home with a smile and offer of a sherbet lemon. The daffy coot would likely ignore the vampirism and go on as if nothing had really changed. Snape cursed the blind optimism that seemed only to affect Gryffindors.

Snape stopped struggling when he began to cough up blood. 'Merlin's beard, those were some painful curses,' he thought. He looked at his own blood with detachment and only the fragile remnants of his inner sense of self-preservation kept him from actively coughing up more to speed up his demise. Instead, Snape closed his eyes and waited. Waited for death. Waited for rescue. Like everything else in his damn life, his future and sanity was in the hands of someone else.

A bone-deep exhaustion settled over him. He wanted to rant and scream at the fates about the injustices he had suffered, about the pain that always plagued him, about his pitiful existence in general. Hadn't he suffered enough? He had grovelled and served two demanding masters, never seeming to please either one. He had long accepted the fact that he was doomed to be kept on the edges of society, ridiculed and shunned by students and peers. Hadn't he at least earned the right to surrender to his exhaustion and never wake up again?

Snape gave a weak snort as he realized the fates were simply content to toy with his sanity again and again and would never truly grant him any measure of peace. Peace like that was only granted to insufferable do-gooders and untainted souls, while people like him were condemned to a cycle of never-ending pain and humiliation.

The sound of a twig snapping caused Snape to open his eyes and emerge from his gloomy thoughts. He peered into the dark, but could see nothing, only hear the footfalls of a forest creature as it carefully inched closer to where he was slumped.

"Yes, yes!" Snape whispered with abused vocal cords as he projected his desire to die. He hoped that the hungry creature would sense his weakened condition and finish the job Voldemort had started. The footfalls grew closer and Snape focused his blurry vision on the approaching animal.

The curious creature turned out to be a thestral, the willowy form and shining white eyes recognizable even in the darkness. The horse-like carnivore slowly appeared out of the shadows and came in even closer, sniffing at the blood that was soaking the ground.

Snape wanted to cry out in joy, but could only watch as the potential instrument of his demise snapped its jaws and took several steps forward, unfurling its wings in the excitement of finding an easy meal. He barely registered the rest of the herd that hovered at the edge of the shadows, waiting until their leader allowed them to take part in the feast.

The thestral, sensing that his meal was not going to put up a fight, boldly moved in as Snape relaxed for the killing blow. But as always, salvation was not going to come for him tonight. Barking suddenly came from somewhere behind him and a familiar voice called out,

"Oi! Fang's found em Headmaster! Quick, over 'ere!"

Snape turned his head and saw Fang come to a halt by his tree, growling uncertainly at the thestral. The heavy footsteps of Hagrid soon followed and the gamekeeper fired a warning shot from his crossbow over the heads of the thestrals to scare them off. The herd quickly vanished into the night, allowing Hagrid and Fang to approach.

The glow of a lumos spell was also seen as Dumbledore hurried over. Snape was too busy mourning the loss of the thestrals to pay any attention and a gurgled, "Noooo!" passed his lips. He was so close! Just a few more seconds and his misery would be over. Long overdue tears of frustration welled up and cast a sad trail down his pale and bloody cheeks. Snape shut his eyes when the wand light was passed over his face and body, not wanting to see the disappointment and disgust that would surely be on his mentor's face.

Dumbledore surveyed the damage silently. At last, after so many days filled with worry and fear, he had found his friend. But his relief was short lived as he took account of Snape's injuries and status. Dark magic had wound itself around Snape like ivy and appeared to be very permanent. Blue eyes darkened as Dumbledore faced the consequences of Tom's wrath and acknowledged the clear signs of vampirism that doomed Snape more than any mark could have. Snape kept his eyes closed and body tense when Dumbledore dropped to his knees next to him. Even the forest seemed to radiate with tension as the wizards waited for a sign from the other.

"Severus, my boy." Dumbledore breathed into the silence, "Thank Merlin you're alive! What has happened?"

"Go away." answered Snape.

"I will not leave you here to certainly die, not when I've found you again! Please, Severus, let me take you back to the castle!"

The touch of a wrinkled hand against his cheek caused Snape's eyes to fly open and he recoiled against the tree.

"Don't touch me!" he snarled and watched with empty satisfaction as Dumbledore frowned sadly and withdrew his hand.

Dumbledore grew increasingly uncertain in the face of the sheer despair and agony that rolled off of Snape in waves. Something was wrong, very wrong. Nothing seemed to remain of the brilliant, sarcastic, dour Potions master he knew. In its place was a broken shell of man, spirit damaged and clinging to life by a slim thread of hope. The spark, the inner fire that made the Snape the man they knew and loved (or hated) was almost gone and Dumbledore knew it was on the edge of going out forever.

Ignoring Snape's flinch, he reached out and took those icy hands in his own, hoping to keep that spark alive just a little bit longer.

"Whatever Voldemort did to you is not the end of the world my boy. Things will get better, I can promise you that. Just allow me to bring you back up to the castle and let Poppy take a look at you."

Snape jerked his hands from Dumbledore's gentle grip and snarled, revealing his new fangs.

"Look at me! Look at what he did! I'm a monster, Albus, a killer! I deserve to die!"

Dumbledore stared at the undeniable proof of Snape's transformation and vowed to see Tom pay for this injustice. He was not by nature a vindictive person, but Dumbledore swore at that moment he would personally see an end to Voldemort's reign and seek revenge on Snape's behalf. Calming himself down took considerable effort and Dumbledore looked to console a very frightened and hurt vampire and somehow get him back to Hogwarts.

"No, Severus! You are not a monster! You are hurt and confused right now, but you do not deserve death."

Snape, however, was not paying any more attention to anything and began to get to his feet, seeking only to escape into the arms of death. When it became clear Snape would continue to fight them Dumbledore reluctantly lifted his wand and said,

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Snape crumpled back to the ground, a look of surprise on his frozen face. Dumbledore and Hagrid stared dumbfounded at him and then at each other. At an unspoken command Hagrid leaned down and carefully picked up the prone form in his strong arms and the trio quickly headed back to Hogwarts.

- & -

A group of thestrals watched as the old two-legs and the half-giant travelled beyond the edge of the herd's territory with the blood-drinker, up to the castle that housed the fledgling two-legs. The dominant stallion swished his tail in agitation, still upset that an easy meal had been taken away from them. He led his herd deeper into their territory, sensitive nose still sniffing the air for the heady scent of blood and prey. In the end it did not matter if the two-legs had come to save the blood-drinker. His soul was already dying. One could not save someone who did not want to be saved.

TBC

Next Chapter - Pomfrey has her hands full and (gasp) Dumbledore seeks advice.