Snape sat in Dumbledore's untraceable room across from his old friend.

The room was bare. There were no chains besides the ones holding him. No potions, no stakes, no chest, no mirror. There was a bed in one corner. And there was an armchair across from Snape in which his current captor sat, a bowl of lemon drops rested on its arm.

"Good morning Severus. How are you feeling today?" The headmaster's eyes did not twinkle, but glistened slightly with sadness. His usual robes were replaced by a purple and cream suit, something he rarely wore but was much harder to grab onto than loose flowing robes. Not that he'd come close enough to be grabbed, but Dumbledore was nothing if not precautious when testing out new territory. Well, usually.

Dumbledore's knobbly wand sat in his lap for quick access. The chair was ornate with a high back sporting purple cloth and gold trim. A tea set floated by Dumbledore's side, the pot ever filled with piping hot earl gray.

The room was quiet in anticipation of the Potion Master's reply, however it would have a long wait. Severus did not say a word and merely kept his gaze to the blank wall on his right, and pointedly away from the headmaster.

"Come now my boy, surely you do not hate me so much for saving McGonagall."

Snape's eyes flashed as the vampire finally met his new captor's face. "Hate you? Hate you! I might despise you, be completely irate at your inability to be honest, feel my skin crawl when I realize the depths of your manipulations, but hate?!" He snarled out his accusations and displeasure loudly, but grew still as his verbal denouncement came to an end. His next words were soft, and spoke of weariness more than anything else. "How could I ever hope to attain such an emotion towards the man who offered me salvation?"

"I think that's a bit of an overstatement, Severus." Said Dumbledore calmly, as if he had not just been accused of basically being the man's new master. It was an unspoken admission they both silently agreed not to discuss.

"Is it an overstatement? I would have died at least five times over if not for your convincing. And having died, I would be fairly unable to try to find any sort of redemption, no matter how false it might be!" Snape countered.

"Well, the truth of that is not for us to know. Your actions however, are. Why Severus?"

Snape flinched as if struck and sunk back into the chair, despite it being made of metal and as such, very unyielding.

"I know you are not so weak to capitulate to your hunger, so what drove you to this?" There was no reply. The headmaster forayed on with guesses, hoping one would elicit a reaction.

Snape never seemed to be able to hide as well from him.

"Boredom?" No response. "Addiction?" Nothing. "Fear?" Not a sound. "Shame?" A slight twitch from Snape's pinky finger let the headmaster know he was close. "Some other feeling perhaps?"

Snape didn't respond, lost in thought. He had been so focused on ignoring the drumbeats, the constant burbling of red rivers around him, that he had been overtaken by an ocean. Caught unawares. He was rusty. He had spent years upon years bobbing on a smooth lake of safe banality, one which hid churning depths of anxiety for what was to come. And then this new power was thrust upon him with no safe way to test anything, to find a solution.

The initial burst of energy from that damnable flux draught had lessened after a week, continued to lessen for weeks. It had finally stopped a month ago, but it had made little difference. His vampiric development was still, by his estimates, that of a vampire some 400 years in age. Either way he had no idea what powers, needs, or weaknesses came with those years. He had postulated, hoped, that with his newfound 'years' he'd be able to withstand magical addiction from at least Minerva's blood, whom he considered a very capable witch, but not a prodigy.

He'd been wrong, had been invaded subtlety while his focus had been upon keeping the students alive and safe from him. Suddenly he had found himself addicted. Presented with the situation, he had decided there were just two viable options. He could either go through a painful recovery alone risking the lives of everyone in the school, or risk one person he trusted could actually help him… Had a chance of actually besting him while the red mist invaded his mind. He had hoped her skill might even allow him to test his new abilities in relative safety even.

But he had fallen into the game too far, let that mist become a safe haven from memories and reality. Trying to sharpen his dulled skills and test his new ones he fell back into the mindset of a spy and had forgotten everything else, fallen further into lust for blood and revenge for how Minerva had mocked and shattered his dignity with that most evil of spells. Rictusempra. The desire for anything else had become secondary once the mist descended. Once he knew the children were safe and there would be, most likely, no deaths he had let it descend.

"What is on your mind, Severus?"

Severus paused his mental meandering and looked back up at his captor. How much did the man know? There was only one way to find out.

"I… How much has she told you?"

"Nothing of import or which I hadn't already surmised. The mouse population began increasing after all, which meant Minerva wasn't practicing her usual hobby. And a measuring charm she put on her veins alerted me that something was quite off. I'm sure I shall learn more when she awakens from her 'concussion'."

Snape looked at the headmaster incredulously, covering his relief that his plans had not yet been revealed. The witch was smart; a measuring charm, on herself? That spell was never meant for anything organic, so to make it work in such a way would have taken some skill. Still, it was not something he wished to focus on, so he grabbed at the piece of information that stood out as least likely to lead to revealing information he would rather not discuss.

"You're not telling me she actually hunts mice. I thought that was a ploy on her part to throw me off."

Albus smiled and grabbed a floating cup of tea, blowing on it a moment before replying.

"Only for practice. She spent a month in Mulciber Junior's neighborhood by pretending to be a stray. No one ever looks at strays twice, but to be convincing she did need to play the part. However she rarely sits still, she looks far too stiff for a cat unless she's on the move. She denies it of course. She is the most uncat-like cat I know. She has the look of indifference and superiority down, but otherwise needs practice in order to act like one. In order to keep one's skills sharp they must be used…"

Severus' frown deepened at the comment and blue eyes looked over half moon spectacles as Dumbledore sipped his tea.

"Which is what I surmise this little escapade was partially? Besides a convoluted attempt to keep students safe and maintain your privacy?"

Severus fumed, of course the old codger would figure that out from a mere frown. However Dumbledore said no more on the matter and moved on.

"We will once again revisit your refusal to go to the school therapist later, we have larger concerns to discuss. Namely your diet." The tea was set down and his knobbly wand picked up. "I am not so kind as Minerva, Severus, and know far more of your strength than she does. It will be, as the muggles say, 'cold turkey' for you. And the saying is quite fitting considering where your donations are from. I managed to obtain some vials of blood from a muggle hospital so there would be no danger of addiction."

The wand was waved and a round end table appeared between them. Iron molded into a filigree of curling leaves made up the base for the table. It was ornate but still tasteful, or it would be if it weren't for the purple and gold table cloth with dancing rabbits. There was another swish and a set of vials held in a plastic vial holder dropped half an inch onto the table.

Severus curled his lip in mild disgust at drinking blood from an unknown source.

"Really Severus, I'd thought all of the muggle hating was a phase, not to mention a facade latter on, sur-"

"It's that I don't know Whose it is Albus. Muggle or pureblood are equally unappealing if I don't know the person. I have, at great cost to myself, learned that anybody can be a moldering excuse for a human barely fit for taking up space. And most people are. So no, it is not that it's 'muggle' although I do find them to be even more closed minded than wizards, somehow. No, it's that I don't know who it's from."

"Really? And when you ate lamb, was it that concerning that you'd never met the creature?"

Severus paused with an open mouth, marking the raised eyebrow and the eyes below it twinkling in amusement. There was a huff and exhale as Snape admitted the point, but shook his head nonetheless. "It's a tad more personal."

"Really, how so?" Albus said as he levitated a vial over to the decidedly uncomfortable Potions Master. "Come now Severus, this is a natural part of your life. The more loathe you are to talk of things the more difficult it is for others to understand you."

"And if I don't wish to be understood?!" Snape snatched the vial out of the air and squeezed it in a vain attempt to express his displeasure upon something.

"Everyone wishes to be understood, Severus. It is part of the human condition, the want to 'be known'."

"I'm not exactly human any more, Albus."

"Ah, but not much has changed except your diet."

Snape glowered, annoyed at the dismissal of his 'affliction.' "I'd say quite a lot has changed."

"Like how you perceive flavor?"

Severus cursed under his breath, the headmaster was too adept at 'conversation' to be led off his intended path.

"Well?" Said his captor, with far more patience that Snape could ever muster. The headmaster's serene stoicism was infuriating, but also comforting. Not that Snape would ever admit that.

"It's difficult to articulate…. Eloquently." He drawled finally.

"You mean politely, but I understand. How about an example then?" Another sip of tea broke the conversation, allowing Severus to look at the vial. A- RH+, 20th April 1989. "You could use that to explain, you really should eat something anyway. You've been asleep for about 13 hours. Apologies, my sleeping spell was a tad enthusiastic, but I also saw no reason to wake you."

Snape scowled and popped the top off the vial. "There's a lot less flavor this way."

"How fascinating."

Severus rolled his eyes at the comment before downing the contents of the vial quickly, almost as if taking medicine; meanwhile his friend sipped hot tea with amusement dancing on his face. The mild ache in Snape's stomach lessened, but his veins still itched. He could tell McGonagall was three floors away from the slight pull in his gut, meaning he had been moved if she was with Pomfrey. He pushed the thought away and rolled his tongue around his mouth.

"Well?"

Snape sighed. "Cherries, and cigar smoke."

"That doesn't seem difficult to articulate at all."

Snape was silent for a moment before begrudgingly answering. "I've also tasted scrolls, the thought of a fleeing mouse, and…other things when it's not from a vial. Some are a bit more difficult to describe."

"Ah, Minerva, yes I could see that. I can't imagine I'd taste of anything besides lemon drops and concern then." Said the headmaster as he popped one of the aforementioned candies into his mouth. They complimented his suit. They even complimented the pink shirt and shoes he wore with it, the purple socks too. How the man managed to be garish and color coordinated was beyond Snape, he was at this point convinced that the man used some type of hereto unknown magic. Snape was so deep in thought about the impossibility of the man's fashion sense that he nearly cut his hand with his own nails when the vial vanished into thin air with a wave.

Albus sighed and the tea and teapot vanished as he stood, ignoring the glare from his friend. "Well, unless you'd like a book I'm afraid I have nothing more to offer you as I must leave this splendid conversation to cover Minerva's class, as well as yours. I can only be in so many places at once before my little hourglass starts to get rather annoyed. Don't scowl Severus, I've been following your curriculum to a T."

Snape was indeed scowling at the thought of the headmaster in his classroom for any appreciable length of time. "And how many students have had to redo potions?"

"Oh I'd dare say quite a few, I'd love to spend time after class helping them, but I have appearances to keep up."

Snape blinked at this, not quite understanding for a moment. When he did his eyes went wide for a second before rapidly returning to a narrowed state to accompany a look of amused skepticism. "Are you really covering my classes as me?" He said, disbelief in every syllable.

"After the first two weeks, yes. People would begin to wonder where you were, Severus. As a spy, that is never good. A good deal of students write to their parents after all. I've even attended a few meals as you."

Snape scoffed. "The students really can't believe you're me. There is no way you could possibly pull that off."

"My dear boy, I find silence and a good glare is all I need. Muttering 'deplorable' before vanishing substandard potions is not that difficult, even if I am doing it under a glamour." Albus said as he made his way to the empty wall behind him. "Now, you may ask the room for nearly any book you wish, right?" Albus looked up at the room with an inquiring eye as if talking to the very stones themselves. "Very good. I shall return in a few hours or so, and while books are delightful companions, I find oneself to be great company as well. Goodbye Severus." The wall morphed into a door as Albus pushed on it, then the yellow paint faded as white hair vanished through it, showing once again only stone.

Snape was torn between relief, shame, and deep irritation. He sighed and looked at the ceiling. A distraction was in order.

"I don't suppose I could get a book on vampires? One I haven't read five times?"

Two books fell from nowhere to land in his lap. His ire only grew as he read the covers.

"'The Complete Idiot's Guide to Vampires?' 'Vampire: The Requiem for Dummies?' Are… are these muggle books? What use could I possibly…" Snape stared at the ceiling again, aghast. "Did… Albus connect you… to a Muggle library?"

There was a slight grinding of stone as if in response.

Snape scowled. "Of course he did, of course he would! Are there ANY books there that might be of use to me?" Another book fell from the ceiling into his lap with a thunk. Snape picked it up and he took a deep breath before reading the title aloud. "'Behavioural Dynamics at the Workplace: A Guide to Introspect, Practice and Transf-'…" The books flew through the air to vanish with a poof as they hit the wall. "Of course his room would have a sense of humor." Snape held his head in his hands and took another breath. And another. And another.

Finally he sat up. He looked at where the door was, at the vials of blood that were still sitting on the table, at the bare room and the manacles on his wrists. He took another breath, and looked at the ceiling.

"Is there Anything there that might be of interest to me? Maybe-" There was a rumble and Snape's eyes narrowed as the sound of pages turning suddenly grew like an avalanche. "Just a few!" He snapped and the rumble stopped, replaced with the sound of intermittent grinding stone, as if the room were laughing. Still, three books dropped onto his lap. He picked up the top one. It had a decidedly boring name. 'Basic Chemistry', by Timberlake and Timberlake.

Snape vaguely remembered chemistry from his time with his mother and Tobias. When the man wasn't a drunk aberrational excuse for a human being, he had attempted to pretend he was a father. He had insisted Snape go to muggle school for some reason. Probably to get him out of his sight so he could beat his mother in private. Merlin, despite being empty, his stomach still managed to turn when he thought of the man. His only regret regarding him was that he had died far too quickly, he wished Tobias had been alive to see his son become a vampire. Oh he would have happily taken the false humiliation of a beating for 'old times sake' just to see the man's face as he pulled the wretch's arm out of its socket. Ah well, fantasies for another time, he could feel the mist pushing forward at his dark thoughts, and it wouldn't do to fall into such a state now.

Snape glanced at the next title. 'A Brief History of Drugs: From the Stone Age to the Stoned Age.' He raised a brow, that definitely sounded interesting. He didn't know what 'stoned' meant in this context but he had a feeling it did not relate to stoning witches or sinners. He glanced at the last one. 'A Short History of Nearly Everything'. World history from a muggle's point of view. He sneered and dropped that one on the ground. It did not vanish like the others, the room apparently thought he should read it. Snape rolled his eyes and sighed before opening the book on drugs and perusing the intro.

Five hours later Snape closed the book on drugs with a snap and stared straight ahead. The horrors that could be wrought by regular plants were mundane, but interesting. Tobacco was the worst drug that had been made mainstream from the muggle world, and it was nothing to some of the ones listed within. But the medicine, the numbing agents, the hallucinogens… the poisons. They would be completely unrecognizable to nearly any wizard. However, most of them could be easily cured… The hallucinogens however might make getting near such a wizard difficult.

However the Potions Master was growing tired of the words he could not cross reference and bring correlation to, perhaps another title to- He looked up at the sound of footsteps and a faint drumbeat. The outline of a door appeared on the wall, slowly turning once again into the yellow painted wood from before. It opened and Albus came in, eyes twinkling.

"It seems your blood is quite potent, Severus. Minerva was unable to tell me half of your so-called 'plans'."

Severus raised an eyebrow at that. He was surprised, he'd not thought a drop would be enough to do anything. Perhaps it had done so because it was a very simple order. Perhaps because she was weak with blood loss when he gave it. Goddamn these impercise fucking powers.

"Still, I'm not head of the Order for nothing and I have known Minerva longer than you've been alive. Also, if I remember what I heard through the walls correctly, you said 'speak' when you ordered her not to discuss such things."

Snape raised a brow at this statement, it was true, but seemed inconsequential. His stomach sunk a second later as he realized what it meant, and the headmaster's words confirmed it. He had made a rookie mistake.

"Quill and paper made quick work of most of it, although some of what was discussed she could not bring herself to write down. Whether that was her choice, or your wants, we will discover later. For now, we can converse on what she did manage to explain."

Snape cringed as the headmaster sat down across from him. Normally he would have used far more restricting and specific language, but he was enraged. He wondered what had been left out… and if it was Minerva giving him privacy for some unknown reason, or his need for it forcing her to stay silent despite his poorly worded command. He supposed he would find out.

"The whole faculty, Severus? Do you really doubt anyone here would not volunteer to assist with this curse that was so cruelly thrust upon you?"

Snape's face twisted with disbelief hiding relief that he had yet to be fully found out.

"Before this, perhaps. Now? And even if they did, what if I don't want help from most of the fools!" He snapped in an attempt to misdirect. "They feared me before, they no doubt fear me doubly so now."

"I think most of the faculty will surprise you."

"I highly doubt that. I can only imagine what rumors are flying around the school right now." Snape said in annoyance that hid his elation at having changed the topic. He did not doubt they would return if Dumbledore wished, but for now that discussion had been avoided.

"None." Dumbledore countered. "The teacher's lounge however, is a different story." Said Dumbledore with an amused smile. "The common consensus is that guilt or stress finally broke you and that you really should see the school therapist."

Snape scoffed. "Albus, you've been attempting to get me to see that excuse for a wizard for years now. Do you really think anything could get me to-"

"If I require it in trade for the food the school will be providing you? The blood will not be free, Severus. Thirty minutes of your time once a month is a small price to pay I think." Said Dumbledore seriously, but his eyes still smiled with amusement.

Snape fumed at the headmaster but remained silent as his friend sat with fingers folded atop purple robes covered in silver stars. The schemer once again had him cornered. He pointedly looked away from the twinkling eyes.

"Now, you should in theory only need two or so vials a day at your age. You however did not have time to become used to that before you were put to starvation. So, let us start that now."

"Two vials a day? How could you even know that?" Snape looked back at the headmaster, curiosity having won over resentment.

"I asked an acquaintance."

Snape blinked at that. "You… Know another vampire?"

"At my age, I know many people, Severus."

"And you never thought to introduce me?! The things I could have learned, skills I could have perfected! I-" Snape was cut off with a resolute shake of the head and raised hand.

"He would most decidedly not be a good influence. I want him nowhere near my school, in fact I want him nowhere near the island of Great Britain."

Snape blinked again. "If… he's such a bad influence, how do you know him?"

The headmaster waved his wand and as usual the pot of tea and cup appeared and began the ritual. "Well, he tried to eat me of course." Said Dumbledore, unconcerned and nonchalant as he picked up the teacup and allowed the pot to pour steaming tea into it.

Snape bit his tongue and attempted to word the question more precisely. He hated when the old man did this, he felt like a child! "Well then, WHY do you know him? I can think of very few people who would stay in contact with someone who attacked them."

"Well, Minerva seems to prove your statement wrong immediately. She wished to see you as soon as she woke up, and not just to hex you upside the head."

"I said few, not none." Snape replied acerbically.

"True. Well, as to your previous question, he stopped."

Severus took a deep breath as the infuriating man across from him sipped tea as if this were the nicest of parlors and the most normal of situations. Severus felt as though he needed a plier spell this was so close to pulling teeth. It was obviously a distraction however, and a welcome one, even if it was being knowingly provided by a very infuriating friend. Dumbledore knew Snape would grasp at any information about the old man's past, he never talked about it after all. Severus forayed on, pliers ready in hand.

"Yes, but he still attacked you. Why would you stay in contact with him?"

"Ah, well after his attack failed, we crossed proverbial swords. I had thwarted his initial surprise with a few basic warding spells, but he was not deterred so easily. We could have fought for hours Severus, but instead he commended me on thwarting him. Requested that instead of battling on the field as we were, wasting energy, destroying the lovely scenery, that we move the battle to a more mental landscape. So we went to his home and played chess."

Snape tried not to scream in irritation at the headmaster's recklessness. Bloody fucking Gryffindors, not an ounce of self preservation. "Why… why would you even consider actually going into a vampire's abode? Of all the irresponsible, foolhardy things-"

"Severus, please, this was in the summer of 1902, when I spent a year or six traveling. I was endangering no one but myself at the time."

"But why were you even out there?"

Dumbledore paused at that question, and pain seemed to briefly fill his eyes.

"I needed to do some soul searching. Needed a distraction. That was how I found myself in his homeland, suddenly in the presence of a man whose company I couldn't refuse."

"Couldn't refuse? And pray tell, why was that?"

Albus took another sip of tea before levitating a vial over to Snape. "Well, he implied heavily that if I did not accompany him, helped him occupy his time, he'd continue on his way to the nearby town where he'd planned to take repast before he came across me."

Severus grabbed the vial absentmindedly as he stared at the headmaster. As rarely as he heard of the man's past, it was even more rare to hear of other vampires. This was far better than anything the muggle library could offer him to engage his mind. Even if the man's actions made Snape want to throttle him.

The headmaster waved his wand and summoned a house elf. "Biscuits please, Laram. Lemon if you don't mind."
The house elf nodded with a side glance at Snape before popping away. Snape hadn't known that house elves could get into these rooms. Of course, he also hadn't known the headmaster could get into the rooms. Dumbledore continued.

"Well, we went back to the castle and played chess. One match became three. Three became five. Five became nine. I was attempting to hold him there until the sun rose and shone through the window. I'll admit my surprise when he didn't burst into flames and just kept playing."

"He was…. Immune to sunlight? Did he have lotions, or potions? Charms?" Snape questioned quickly hoping to glean some information he could use to curtail his own problem with the evil orb, or perhaps improve his current solutions.

"Severus, there are many types of vampires, just as there are many types of lycans, or mercreatures. …Or perhaps he is just that old. He refuses to tell me. He did seem to weaken in the light of day, but we had a wizard's agreement to play until we both decided it was time to stop, and those are not broken lightly. If I had known who he was, or the level of his corruption at the time I would have gladly paid the price, but alas, I did not. Although that is perhaps fortunate as I would most likely not be here. Breaking a wizard's oath has grave consequences. Ah, thank you Laram."
The house elf placed a very biscuit laiden plate onto the table beside the lemon drops, which had been floated over some time before. The headmaster took one as the house elf bowed and popped away. Dipping it into the tea he continued.

"He was starved for mental stimulation more so than blood I believe, which was why we ended up playing 120 games over the next day and a half."

"And… you won?"

"Oh no, he trounced me quite soundly every time, I was only 21 at the time after all. Mmm, lovely." Said Albus after a bite of biscuit. "If I had won even once he would have let me go on my way, that was his bet. He was content to let me try and try again until I admitted defeat."

"Bet?" Snape had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Of course Severus. We were betting what we were on the battlefield after all. My freedom, his dinner."

Snape blinked. "But you lost…how are you alive?"

Dumbledore took another biscuit and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly. He washed it down with tea and sat in silence for a moment.

"Severus, I'm surprised. Clearly you can tell he didn't kill me. So either we came to an agreement, or I escaped."

Severus shook his head. "No, I mean… Why I'm here right now is because of one vial of blood with high magical content. Even with a continuous supply of…" Snape trailed off, reluctant to actually articulate his failings in front of his old friend.

"Of Minerva's blood, yes?"

Snape nodded and took a breath, happy to move on quickly. Sometimes Albus' tendency to be blunt around uncomfortable topics was welcome. "Even with that I may have eventually killed her. It is highly addicting and I have no idea if this is something that one can grow a tolerance for. There are very few, none in fact, vampires who are willing to write and share about the subject!"

"Ah, well. It seemed to pose no trouble or concern for him, he is very old Severus. At your some…400 years he has at least 100 on you still. Actual years worth of experience, instead of magical mishap bestowed ones."

"And, I surmise that you are still in contact with him, as he is an acquaintance of yours?"

"Yes, we did reach an agreement. He wanted my company, so we still play every third Thursday of the month. He said for every time I win he would stay in his castle one night."

"Why….why don't you just kill him? Surely by now you could easily? Or send a group of Aurors to-" Severus was interrupted by the headmaster shaking his head.

"I finally beat the vampire at chess for the first time thirty years ago. Since then I have beaten him sixteen times, lost eighteen, and the rest were draws. Many people consider me to be the greatest wizard of a generation, but it is a wide world Severus. I'm sure there are others who are my equal, I would be very sad if there weren't. So believe me when I say, I have tried. I will not send people into battles that I know they cannot win."

Snape was silent. He knew this to be untrue.

"Especially if there is no benefit to it."

Ah. "Surely enough people could defeat him."

"Most likely, but we would lose them needlessly, and we have our own battle at home here. Once it is done, if I survive, I have a plan. It is not time yet. He is not more powerful than me after all, but he is just as clever, and far more cruel."

Snape paused and looked at the vial in his hand a moment before opening it, a thought forming.

"And what happens when you lose?"

"Hmm?" The headmaster looked up from the bowl of candy, fingers hovering over one of the lemon drops.

"What happens when you lose to him at chess?"

"Well, a vial of my blood is most definitely worth a chance to save a life. Every time I go and play chess with him he is in the castle for the entirety of that evening, and if I win, he is in his castle for the entirety of another."

"You cannot honestly believe that he keeps his word?" Snape downed the vial quickly, hoping his friend would not ask about its flavor in favor of continuing his story.

"No Severus, I do not believe him to be a man of honor. But I do believe it amuses him to pretend to be one. Also-"

Severus shook his head. "I cannot believe you are…. Friends with such a creature."

"Oh, we are most definitely not friends…there is a Muggle term? Frenemies? Either way, what I am, is a distraction. He is bored, and I can use that to draw his attention away from others."

"But you risk… you risk everything you've set up over here when you go to see him!" Bit out Snape, his words scathing and full of resentment.

"Your concern for my, and everyone's, safety is admirable, but I have not been in danger since 1923. A blood troth quite guarantees my safety, our meetings, and the results for the loser. The person who breaks it, will perish."

Snape was silent. He went over all the information that had been said carefully, and scowled.

"That is your plan isn't it? To force him to break the blood troth. To kill you, and in so doing, kill himself."

Albus finally selected a lemon drop from the bowl and popped it in his mouth.

"You are as astute as ever, Severus."

Snape fumed silently, his face showing no emotion. He knew Dumbledore was a man of sacrifice, but he didn't want him to throw his life away when there had to be other options, less painful and less insulting ones!

"Although I doubt I shall survive Voldemort's return. No. I have left this debacle in the hands of the most capable witch I know."

Snape was silent for a moment, a burgeoning concern in his mind.

"And you doubt this vampire will join the Dark Lord's cause?"

"Their opinions differ just enough that I do not think they would get along."

"How so?" Snape was genuinely curious about this answer, the vampire seemed every bit as single minded and despicable as his previous master.

"Well, Voldemort believes everyone to be beneath him but puts great stock in purity of blood." Said the headmaster ignoring Snape's flinch. "My acquaintance, well, if it bleeds it is food, and food is beneath him until it proves itself interesting. He has no interest in ruling or organizing muggles into slavery, I believe he would find that boring. He would as soon as help Voldemort as attempt to eat him or toy with him. But he has heard of the Wizard's immortality and will most definitely stay away from a fight he knows he could not win. He would also loathe being bent to someone's will. The other main difference is that despite their immortality, the vampire has quite accepted that he will die one day. He was a warrior in life and still seeks a warrior's death against an opponent that would justly take up the cause."

Snape tried to take this in, but this vampire seemed to be a deep contradiction. He shook his head and moved on.

"Then, why not allow me to fight him?"

"Severus, I'm sorry, but you would fight him to a draw, if not lose. He would attempt to corrupt you, and drawn to the dark as you are, I would worry for you. No, I'm sending him a chess master, or rather chess mistress."

Severus smirked briefly, having spoken of beating the chess master earlier, to her face. Still, that she knew and he didn't hurt a bit.

"So McGonagall knows."

"She is one of my oldest friends. She has been planning her first chess match with him for 23 years. I believe she has recently commissioned a chess set that will turn into silver an hour into the game."

"You're not worried he'll kill her?"

"Of course I am. But the moment I told her this story she made it her mission to figure out a plan to kill the fiend for good."

"And do I get to know the name of this vampire?"

"He goes by many names. Samuel, Count, Mr. Lee, and Friedrich M., are just a few he uses with the public. The last sobriquet he was using was Ferenc, or Frank, Blasko. He prefers to let people figure out who he is themselves. He is quite dramatic, a quality we both share and an innocent enough one that I shall not deprive him of it."

Severus rolled his eyes as the old man sipped his tea. "Is there anything else I should know about him?"

"Well, I managed to coerce from him an unbreakable vow forbidding him from harming any student or employee while he is within the school grounds or Hogsmead. I unfortunately could not get him to agree to stay away. Although he has yet to show up."

"And pray tell, what did you have to offer up for that?"

"Nothing a blood replenishing potion couldn't quite easily fix. I believe he found the prospect of being in an area where he could not wantonly attack people amusing. And speaking of, how did you find your dinner, Severus?"

Snape scowled through his answer. "Too sweet, like caramel. As I said, the flavor is faint this way."

"But still your meal was not altogether unpleasant?"

"No." Snape grated out.

"Lovely. Well, unless you have any more questions?"

"I still do not understand how you can stand to be in his presence. You, who are so…opposed to the dark." Dumbledore looked over his half moon spectacles at Snape, his normally twinkling eyes empty.

"First of all, I am not opposed to the dark Severus, I am opposed to its abuse and misuse. While some dark practices are truly despicable, most are just dangerous. The dark arts are easily misunderstood and therefore can have grave consequences for the unwary, as you should well know."

Snape had the grace to look away and keep his mouth shut at the truth.

"Half of the magic Aurors and Unspeakables use to keep us hidden from muggles is dark after all, but they are usually learned only during the extensive training program at the ministry. As for the vampire, he and I are alike in a few ways, Severus. The main one is we both adore the mental gymnastics required to carry out a plan. We put great effort into the grand schemes that one can organize over the scope of decades, and enjoy the satisfaction of seeing them come to fruition. For me it means salvation and safety of the world and those I care for. For him, well… We have very different goals." Albus sipped his tea before shaking his head with a small sad smile on his face. "It seems history repeats itself, although my heart is somewhat absent this time. Now, anything else?"

Snape breathed in. He knew what the man before him said was the truth. He was a fox that had decades to plan; fortunately his goals were more altruistic than clearing out a chicken coop.

"Unless you'd care to elaborate on that last part, or if he has told you anything you think I might not know about my predicament, then no."

"He has told me quite a bit, but I know for a fact some are false and as such take everything he says with a heavy helping of salt."

Snape scowled, noticing his friend had completely ignored the first part of his query.

"Then why do you trust the information he gave you about my...portion size?"

"Because I paid for it. But since I believe he would find it terribly amusing if I or one of my faculty was torn apart by a starving friend, or forced to kill them, I doubled the dose."

Snape frowned at the comment but said nothing. The vial was banished and the tea set disappeared with a wave. "Any other interesting escapades you care to share before you go?" He asked.

"I was thinking one story a night would be enough to keep you distracted. For tomorrow I was trying to decide between telling you about how I met Fawkes or about my relationship with the centaurs of the forest."

Snape sighed, watching as Dumbledore stood up. "I'm sure we can discuss that tomorrow."

"Very well, I shall leave control of the lights up to you should you wish to read or sleep." With a wave of his wand that ended in a small flick, the vials, biscuits, and bowl of candy vanished. Dumbledore nodded goodnight as the door appeared, and as the door vanished behind him the chains around Severus' legs and wrists melted away.

Severus looked at the stones where the door was but a moment before and shook his head.

Dumbledore was still decidedly manipulative, brilliant, conscientious, and most definitely insane.

(Back to just me. My beta has had life tell her she is going to be busy now. Wish me luck without her.)

Why did he always end up in the employ of insane men?