(Warning, murder of two children.)

That evening Snape was sitting in the chair and his long fingers tapped its arm impatiently. Minerva hadn't moved for an hour or two, she was most likely at dinner… Or grading papers in her office. It was a relief to not feel that pull constantly moving, but he was still on edge. Snape's entire being burned and ached, constantly itching and left wanting for something he could constantly sense. Now that the cat was sitting still it was harder to ignore, but he was succeeding fairly well if the only sign of his annoyance was the tapping of a single finger.

A vial popped into existence and fell toward the ground, the table it would usually land on gone. Snape dived for the vial and caught it barely in time. He was tired. He downed the contents and ignored the faint taste of plum and vinegar. He took a breath and hoped, silently prayed for some of his hunger to abate, but his meager meal brought no relief whatsoever. He held the vial In his hand, squeezing it in anger at this discovery. It was made of plastic, it splintered and cracked, but didn't shatter. Why was this happening? Why was he still hungry? Blood from someone besides Minerva should provide relief from his regular hunger at least, if not the itching!He sighed, and dropped the vial and sat. And waited.

He didn't sleep that night, and when, next morning, Albus knocked on the door he just barked out a terse 'no'. The knocking stopped and as soon as the chains released him the vial appeared. He dived for it, and after drinking the contents threw it against the wall as he found the sweetness of honeysuckle and sharp tang of grass still brought no relief. The stones ground in disapproval but he ignored them. He could not understand why it was so bad this time. Everything burned and itched like last time but he also felt tired and irritated. He had held out much longer, and with more decorum, when Minerva was in the room with him. All he wanted to do right now was punch a wall till he broke out of the room, fortunately he still held onto himself enough to push the urge away, but realize it's futility.

Whispers of a plan came to his mind. If he injured himself doing such a task he would require a great deal of blood to heal most likely. He could use this to get more food, fake how bad his injuries were and eat until he was strong enough to escape. He shook his head. No. Dumbledore was here to help him and had done a sight better than Minerva, and he was unlikely to beat the man in any type of fight. Not that he wanted to. No matter how glorious he would- No. Snape rubbed his temples and pushed these thoughts away behind his walls, forcing the red mist to retreat, but as soon as he was done it started leaking out the damn fucking cracks again. He snarled and with a loud crack followed through with an earlier urge. He felt the bones in his hand creak, and one was surely fractured, the wall had fared worse but with a grinding cacophony the wall healed the indent and was silent.

Snape fought the urge to slam his fist into the wall again. Why was he so tired and tetchy? Perhaps he could regain some energy by relaxing his enchantments a bit? The charmed potion keeping his attributes in check required constant mild concentration. He took a breath and relaxed, just a bit. His nails grew thicker and dark, and his ears grew longer; his teeth, however, had been out for quite some time. He had no idea what color his eyes were right now, they were red when he was hungry, or angry, or hunting, or wanted to scare students. He was definitely hungry right now. He glanced at his nails, and noted the edges were no longer ragged, of course when they first appeared he had spent the prior evening pulling bark off a tree inhabited by bowtruckles. They had not been happy and had bit at his nails, among other things.

Snape took a breath and once again examined his state of wellbeing; he felt no different. Tired, hungry, slightly heavy headed. Why? What was going on? What was different this time? He had food, like last time. He had company, but it was less constant. The only thing he didn't have was the blood he wanted, but he had done a self inflicted fast and had not felt like this. What was different?

There was a tug in his chest and he started walking the room with it, feeling the smallest turn, tiniest change in distance. He drug a claw along the stones leaving a mark. The stones ground out in protest a little but as the marks faded quickly they didn't seem too perturbed.

And so he paced. And burned. And paced. And itched. And paced. And felt irritable and tired and angry. And he paced.

When evening and he was pulled into the chair he fought it. He struggled and pulled. With a metallic scream the right chair arm bent. The triumph was short lived when it righted itself as the headmaster stepped in the room. Calm washed over Snape, and a tiny bit of relief flooded him. Why? What was going on? He…found it hard to care with the offer of prospective nonviolent solace standing in front of him. He nodded.

"Headmaster."

"Ah, are you feeling better, Severus?"

"Slightly. Your being here seems to help."

"How kind my boy. Here."

The vial floated and Severus plucked it out of mid air, downing its contents quickly.

"How did it taste?"

"I don't know. I didn't really take the time to taste it." He lied. Clover, and honey.

"Ah. And would you like to hear about an escapade tonight?"

Snape shook his head. "I believe I would prefer to just...sit in your company. In silence."

"As you wish. I have quite a fascinating book I'm reading myself. Billions and Billions. Quite remarkable. I shall read that. You'll forgive me if I don't remove the chains."
Snape just nodded and sat back, eyes closed.

The headmaster seemed to exude energy almost. Snape breathed in and could almost imagine inhaling it. He sat, and breathed, thinking of blissful nothingness. For hours. The subtle turning of pages was the only sound besides two drums, one steadily fading.

His veins itched less, it had been decreasing slowly over the days, as had the pull, but right now even that seemed far away. It felt peaceful, as if he were in a bath filled with airy water. It wasn't a lot, he still felt hungry, but there was definitely a sensation of calm. He could almost imagine he was eating a small bowl of soup that warmed him, that each breath was a sip. He took a breath and just let the feeling overcome him, let the absence of intense pain and need wash over him with each breath.

Eventually Dumbledore stood up and closed the book with a snap.

Snape looked up and nodded.

"Well, are you feeling a bit better?"

Snape nodded again.

"Well, I imagine we'll be set on the road to recovery soon then now that detox is almost done. I shall see you on the morrow."

And with that, Snape was left alone. The chains vanished and he sighed. The pain was less, and the tugging in his chest had decreased as well. He stood and looked at the wall as the bed reformed. The chemistry book fell from the ceiling onto it and Snape looked up, nodded a final time, and headed over.

"I don't understand how you can let that disgusting blood pass your lips, Severus."

Snape sneered at Lucius. "Because our Lord commanded it, I endured. Besides, one could almost insinuate you're suggesting I go after purebloods. Are you offering?"

"Severus, my generosity only goes so far."

"It doesn't go anywhere, Lucius."

Severus and Lucius walked down the road in the muggle countryside. They had come from a pub, a front for a very fancy restaurant for wizards. Snape could still taste the beef tartar, one of the few things he could stomach. He was sure he could make a potion or charm that would allow him to consume solid foods. He had already figured out how to deal with sunlight through his potions and lotions.

Now that he was...employed at Hogwarts he should be able to make all these necessities. The Dark Lord was less than generous with materials or funds. Most of his followers did not care about that. They only cared that they had muggles and mud- muggle borns to play with.

That had ended though. This was to be the last meeting. Snape pushed thoughts of exactly why this was the last meeting out of his head.

They walked down the road to the location of the portkey, an unassuming granite rock with red bits of garnet flecked through it about 20 meters off the road. Snape looked at his pocket watch. 11:28 PM. Two minutes. They stood in uncomfortable silence. 11:29.

"Some will blame you, Severus, say you're a traitor, especially with your job." Lucius commented.

"I shall disabuse them of that notion quickly. They all know why I applied for the position. I took it so I could keep an eye on our enemies."

"Yes, because we all trust each other's words so readily."

"Then trust the Dark Lord's judgement."

"You know I do Severus, but many of the others never really got over your...pedigree." The word was said delicately, through a lip curled in mild disgust.

"Yes, well if they ask I'll be happy to remind them that the Dark Lord not only looked past that, but got rid of it. My veins are quite empty most of the time. And they are welcome to help fill them if they continue to press the issue."

With seconds left hands were placed on the rock. There was a pull behind their navels and they were whisked away.

They landed in a hallway of dark stone and flickering candles with a heavy wooden door at the end. They straightened their robes and donned their masks before heading down and opening the door. The room they entered was only slightly brighter than the hallway, despite the light from torches and the reflections of flame dancing off metal masks. Death Eaters stood in groups and whispers filled the room as they talked in hushed suspicion that was still more welcoming than the outside world. More came in over the next 10 minutes, sporadically so there wasn't a pattern, paranoia kept them alive.

Eventually no more appeared and there was silence.

"So many lost." Said a voice from the corner.

"And more to come! They've captured some of us, you know a few more will crack." Nott's voice came from behind the mask.

"Where is Pettigrew?" Asked Lucius.

"Dead. Black got him." Another voice piped up. Dolohov most likely.

"Curses. Wasn't he sent to get the master's wand?" Rookwood questioned, always eager to please.

"Yes. There was no sign of it in the crater." Said Amycus as if he had been brave, or stupid enough, to check it.

"Well at least Black is in prison. The blood traitor certainly deserves it." Said Lucius.

Snape couldn't help a small smile at this. Black had gone insane, and now he was in Azkaban, and Snape was out here. Poetic. Perhaps justice did exist.

"And the group who went for the Longbottoms?" Asked the other Carrow.

"Have you been under a rock? Caught. All of them." Snapped Mulciber.

"And Rosier is dead!" Cried another. Snape at this point stopped caring, it was obvious this would be a repeating airing of woes and grievances. He would stand here, make sure he was at least seen, and interact only if necessary. He couldn't be found out, although he supposed it didn't matter if the Dark Lord was gone… unless he truly did return. No, he would continue to be careful, if only for the promise he made.

Lucius stepped forward and raised his hands. "No matter. We must decide what steps will be taken to ensure our safety."

"And his return!"

"He's dead!"

"It doesn't matter, we have to lay low! Or we will be found out."

"We will all be found eventually. We must each do what we can to ensure our own safety, and watch for his return. But to seek him out right now will only bring us harm. As shown by those who went after the Longbottoms." Said Lucius calmly.

"What's he doing here?" The conversation stopped and all eyes were on Snape.

"He was with Dumbledore!" Yelled Goyle, obviously excited at the prospect of having someone the group might turn on, be able to punish for their current impotence. Obviously trying to incite such a fight he continued. "He is a turncoat. Who knows what he has told the old geezer!"

Snape rolled his eyes and stepped forward. When he spoke the disgust in his voice was palpable.

"Do people really find it that difficult to grasp the concept of 'laying low?' I am in a position to continue the work our master set me toward. It was on his orders I gained employment at Hogwarts, remember? I can spy and put on a face for society, and have information should he ever return as some of you seem to think he will. If you imbeciles cannot see the advantages of that, I fear for your children should they attend my classes come the start of the school year. I agree with Nott however, he is gone. We all felt it. It is time to blend in, continue our work from the shadows."

"Like Dumbledore would keep a Death Eater on. Let alone a vampire." Mumbled Alecto with disbelief.

"He is...well aware of my condition. He has let other such beings into his school before." Said Severus with distaste. "He believes me to be a pity case. A reformed Death Eater and a repentant vampire."

"Do you really think we will send our children to school where they could be your next meal?"

Severus sneered and removed his mask, red eyes causing quite a few heartbeats to speed up as his next comment echoed off the walls.

"Fine, send them to Durmstrang, with the traitor. If I can't figure out a method to curb my own hunger I am a poor wizard indeed. Besides, there are muggle villages within apperating distance."

There's a tittering among the group. It was well known Karkaroff had betrayed them. Seeing Severus in court beside Dumbledore, one of their greatest enemies, did not do wonders for the trust of the panicked group though.

"You were outed as a Death Eater by that traitor! Dumbledore Said you changed sides. How do we know that isn't true?" Yelled Goyle.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

'Prove you haven't become a double agent for them." Said Corban.

Snape sneered openly. "If one had any sense they would be saying prove I am not a triple agent. Do yourself a favor and use the word turncoat, since you obviously can't wrap your head around anything more complicated. Still, how would you have me prove anything? My continued feeding of information to the group would be the height of stupidity. If we are wise, then this will be our last meeting as a group for the foreseeable future. Any correspondence will be regarded with the utmost suspicion. Unless we want to start a 'reformed Death Eaters' group with which to commiserate over our 'poor choices and trauma.' Although I doubt few of you are keen minded enough to speak covertly under the watchful eyes that would surely be present. So, how-"

There was a rustling in the back as Carrow levitated a bound woman to the center of the room. Her eyes were wild and panicked, her mouth frozen shut. She was set down in front of him, stood upright and struggling against the ropes.

Snape raised a brow. "And who is this?"

"A woman who was home across the street on the cursed night. She left for a 'vacation' the day after and returned a few days ago. She says she knows nothing, except that a large man left the area on a motorcycle carrying a package. As our Imperio specialist is currently awaiting trial, we'd like to see if our attempts missed anything. Not everyone has veritaserum on hand, and I doubt you brought any." Snape shook his head and Carrow continued. "So as our legilimency specialist, we'd like you to find out if the cunt knows anything."

Snape situated his jaw and stepped forward. The woman's face was tear streaked and her hair damp, her green eyes darted back and forth. Snape looked at her coldly and raised his wand.

"Legilimens." Images rushed forward of her with her children in a very sunny place. Palm trees blew in the breeze and she watched as a young boy with sandy hair and scabby knees ran from palm tree to palm tree picking up small coconuts. This was her vacation. Just her and her two sons. Snape pushed back farther. Past the flight in the metal bird, airplane, past the packing. To the night of.

She had just tucked the younger boy into bed and turned off the lights when a flash across the street caught her eye. She closed the blinds and quickly left the room to watch from another window.

Snape watched the memory with a thin lip, teeth clenched hard. He had seen this himself, from a distance.

Snape had followed his Lord that night despite Dumbledore's warnings, fearful that his master's growing secrecy and ire over the previous week had meant he was planning to do something soon, alone. The white flash would be the Dark Lord breaking down the door. He remembered watching him vanish into the ether and waiting. There was another flash and the horrible melting, burning feeling when his Lord, ex-llord, died. His stomach sunk as the house appeared, the secret it was keeping gone.

The woman watched in confusion as the house became visible. He watched as he entered the house, and then left out the side door as an unbelievably large man pulled up, ran in, then left with a crying bundle.

He ended the spell before he had time to think on anything further. He took a breath and looked around at the masked faces, nodding his agreement.

"You are correct. She knows nothing we do not already know. The boy was taken by the Order of the Phoenix and secreted away. I can only tell you that Dumbledore has been working near non-stop on preparing wards for wherever the boy will live. It would be unwise to draw his, and the wizarding world's, ire right now. Besides, I can't see what finding him would accomplish. Six seconds of revenge, or a single paltry meal, are not worth an eternity in Azkaban. Not for me at least." Severus said with false irritation.

There was murmuring at his comments, his volunteering of knowledge, and he took the moment to think. He had an inkling of what would come next, trying to decide if he should suggest it. He had yet to decide on a course of action when opportunity was taken from him as Crabbe's voice echoed through the chamber.

"Then dispose of the dirty whore. Slowly."

Snape looked at the woman, he had no trouble getting rid of anyone before, though he was not partial to torturing them. But now, working for Dumbledore it felt….different. Long ago it had felt wrong and he had reveled in it, removing filth like his father from the earth. But more recently, despite his change… and now with Lily's son… seeing this woman's children… her eyes… He looked at her.

Her sacrifice, his sacrifice, had purpose. To keep Lily's son safe. To make sure that when the Dark Lord rose again, he would be able to help organize his death. So that what happened to him, and what was about to happen to the woman, wouldn't ever again.

Still, removing a muggle never hurt. He had yet to find one that wasn't twisted in some way. Severus looked at the men around him, the ones who he used to mostly consider his allies. He had yet to find anyone who wasn't twisted in some way, including himself. Perhaps… thoughts for another time. There were other concerns.

"And her children? They didn't see you take her?" He queried.

"Oh, they did. We were going to kill them in front of her, but I suppose they can be dessert instead." Carrow's voice echoed as the woman's eyes widened and she looked pleadingly at Snape. The look he returned was not one of empathy. He had a bit for her. She obviously cared for her children, but it wasn't as if he could show, let alone, act, on such feelings.

He pushed his thoughts elsewhere.

Snape hated eating in public, but the other Death Eaters and his Lord seemed to enjoy watching immensely, even when it was one of them. Snape had been asked to kill one of their own on a few occasions. The first one in public had been when Barlus had failed the very simple mission of acquiring two muggles to 'play' with. It was such a pathetic failure that the Dark Lord had deemed him to be unworthy of death by his hands and had given him to Snape. The others had jeered and laughed as Barlus slowly died in front of them. Panicking, unable to move as the taste of the sea coated Snape's throat.

Snape pushed away the memory as his stomach ached at it. He looked at the woman with false distaste.

"What? Why don't you start? Has Dumbledore turned you soft?" Crabbe taunted.

Snape looked at Lucius who nodded.

"First of all, you cretin, she is a muggle, and while I am quite glad to hasten her departure, I still am not pleased when her filthy blood touches my lips. Secondly, it is difficult to eat and cast Cruciatus at the same time. Crucio!"

The woman screamed silently as Snape sneered, her body twitching, thrashing against the ropes that bound her. Snape only held the spell for a few moments before dropping it.

"That was barely a tickle Snape." Said Alecto.

Snape smiled as he sheathed his wand. "Yes, but it's enough seasoning to cover up the filth. I'm sorry gentleman, but if you couldn't guess, I have had difficulty finding food the past two weeks. I do not feel like waiting longer." As he talked he picked up the shaking woman by the ropes around her arms and held her in the air. There was blood dripping from her mouth and he took a thumb and gently wiped it away, licking it off his finger. He was not lying, he had been unable to eat anything of substance for a while. He was quite hungry.

"You are very lucky tonight." The woman's eyes lit up with hope where disgust and fear had been moments before. "This will be fairly quick." The light vanished as Snape bit her neck and the air around him filled with chuckles.

She tasted of stress, marjoram, and green tea, the memory of baking marzipan. Snape was not gentle as he drank, and she struggled. It did nothing. Snape could feel wetness as she tried to thrash her head in different directions, tears flying off her face and landing on his.

Laughter filled the room behind him.

"Look at her struggle."

"The filthy whore thinks she has a chance."

"Bring out the boys. Let them watch."

The woman's struggles doubled at that and Snape bit down harder.

"Look at her go!"

A door opened and closed across the room behind the crowd.

"Come here you little brats." Amycus' comment was muffled behind the door and the jeering but Snape could hear it. The woman's head banged into his in her attempts to get free and Snape stopped drinking and let go. He looked at the woman with red, angry eyes.

"I could petrify her, Severus." Said Lucius.

A very thin smile graced Snape's mouth as he shook his head. He brought his face close to the woman who was about to throw her head forward to headbutt him.

"If you're very good, and very still, I'll make sure it is at least quick for them." The woman froze, then nodded.

The Death Eaters laughed, thinking it was a lie, but Snape knew it would be a slight comfort to the mother that she could do anything at all to help her children. Like he couldn't for Lily. It was quite literally the least, and only, thing he could do. He wasn't sure why he was offering this, it

The door burst open and two small children were pushed forward. Hands and feet bound with magic ties they fell to the floor, unable to catch themselves.

Snape ignored them and sank his teeth into the woman's flesh once more. So good, it was so good to finally eat after two weeks. He had been nearing the end of his rope, a few more days and he would have had to go hunting in a nearby muggle village. He drank in great greedy gulps of euphoria, his mouth and tongue happily busy while the woman silently pleaded for quick deaths for her children.

The boy's mouths however, were not silenced. They pleaded and cried, confused and scared. Wondering why their mother wasn't saving them as they watched her dangle in the air.

Laughter and taunts filled the room mingling with the cries for help. The woman would have to endure them, and his rather painful feeding. He couldn't make this pleasurable for her, if she moaned, he would be questioned. His responses to that could end very poorly for her… and her children. He could however make it slightly less painful, they would think she was just fading away, who was he to tell his unwanted audience otherwise?

Two hundred and twenty six seconds. That's how long it took to drink the woman dry. The fastest Snape could possibly go. The body was dropped on the ground and the boys' screams echoed through the chamber, mingling with laughs and mild mutters of disappointment.

Snape turned and quickly picked up the boy with sandy hair. The scabs on his knees hadn't healed yet and he had a slight tan. Snape leaned forward but yells from the onlookers made him stop.

"You aren't actually going to keep your promise?"

His eyes were red as he dropped the boy unceremoniously and turned to Goyle.

"I. Am. Starving. You wanted me to dispose of them. They are being disposed of." Snape looked around at the group, all eyes on him. His voice came out in a low whisper, barely audible among the sobs.

"Unless somebody wishes to join them, they would be smart to not interfere with my meal." Snape turned and slowly walked toward the boys. "Besides, one will have to watch. I'd consider that quite torturous if I cared for anyone. Luckily, I am not afflicted with such emotions." Snape drew his wand and sent a silencing spell at the younger of the boys. His mouth moved as he screamed, but not a sound emerged. His older brother rolled over to him. Still able to talk he tried to comfort his brother, all the while glaring at the adults towering over him.

"Hey why-"

Snape cut off Alecto's question quickly. "Most people do not appreciate food that talks back. I am not an exception!" He turned and scowled once again at the collective. "You are all lucky I'm letting you watch, as the only reason I did before was for the Dark Lord's pleasure. I dislike the running commentary...unless it elicits an interesting reaction." Snape picked up the boy as he spoke, ignoring the older brother's yelling. "Gets blood moving faster."

The group chuckled, understanding this was a show for the boys. It was. Everything Snape said was true. However, he preferred any comments to be his own. And he preferred not to eat children, he preferred not to kill children. He preferred not to interact with children at all, which was ironic considering he was about to become a teacher.

As he sunk his teeth into the young boy his mind was elsewhere, his main focus on drinking quickly, minimizing this horror for both of them. This was no loss, he told himself, they would have most likely grown into deplorable human beings. There were very few decent humans in Snape's mind. One less since two weeks ago. So far the only decent one still alive was Dumbledore, and he was still deeply flawed. Perhaps he wasn't decent, but attempted to be.

Snape couldn't count himself among the decent, surely. An epiphany began to spark in his mind as he looked at the woman, the boy, at the people surrounding him. Muggles, Mudb- muggleborns, halfbloods, purebloods; they all had the same chance to grow into decent human beings...and none of them did. In his life, everyone had treated him poorly. Except Lily. Everyone else wanted to use him, even Dumbledore; but he had the decency to tell him to his face he was being used.

The body went limp in his hands suddenly and Snape was dragged out of his thoughts. One hundred fifty seconds. He looked at the other boy, he was trembling in silent rage and fear on the ground.

He hoped he wouldn't last a hundred.

—-

Snape woke up with a jolt. He had fallen asleep reading again. He picked up the book from off his chest and sat up. The chemistry book was dense to say the least. Many people considered his usual books dense. This however, was a different level. It was quite difficult to understand as well. After fifteen minutes of trying to parse the first chapter he had asked the room for books on elements, biology, and basic science. He referenced things between the four books for hours. The books were well written and he thought he understood them, but wanted to reference other writings to make sure. The rabbit hole had started with a section describing the different ways molecules moved in solid matter, liquid, steam, and something called plasma. He remembered referencing another book that started talking about gas acting like water under heavy gravity...as on Jupiter. Which meant that laws the muggles laid out could be bent by other laws they laid out. He had wondered if there were any other laws that weren't bent...just broken and the room had given him a book that boasted a light discussion of the unknown in something called theoretical physics. The first page mentioned relativity and light and a double slit experiment and something called string theory. That's when he'd passed out.

He sighed. Muggles looked at the world in an entirely different way. No wonder magic was so inherently offensive to them. All these books defined the way things worked. Magic was ephemeral. It was known how things worked, but not truly why. Not how wizards were able to control the energy in them, outside of them. Not besides 'willpower.' Not besides 'magic'. Not to the level of detail the muggles seemed to crave. Snape was not sure it would be possible to get to that level of detailed explanation with even potions. Perhaps these explanations were their way of finding meaning, safety. He sighed and thought back on his dream.

He had told Minerva that ever since he had been turned he rarely dreamt any more. The truth was he didn't 'dream.' If anything happened while he was asleep, it was usually just reliving memories, and it always seemed to be the complicated or painful ones. Snape shuddered, trying to get the memory of the bland blood of children off his tongue.

He hadn't been a teacher yet at that point. Hadn't actually grown to enjoy pummeling information into students, watching the smart ones flourish. He would never drain a student, child, now, not if he could help it, but back then he barely cared. He had had no allies, no fellow teachers. Dumbledore was a way to protect Lily's son, and nothing more.

Things had changed since then. Snape turned and set his feet on the ground. He stood and took a breath, contemplating his past and his current want for redemption, however unattainable and undeserved it was. He would repeat the actions in that dream again if it meant keeping his cover. He'd do it a hundred times, to make sure the Dark Lord died, to make sure Lily's son survived. He had to. He would always do what he had to. No matter how black his soul became, he'd at least save someone else from having to take his place; the Order Needed a spy. Perhaps along the way he could slyly save some lives to make up for the ones he had taken, and surely would take.

He sighed. That night had been the beginning of his change from a bitter boy into a slightly wiser, but still bitter, man. It had started with the realization that anybody could be a horrid person. The epiphany that anybody could be a good person had come years upon years later, and he still felt that a 'good person' was a rarity. He surely still wasn't one, he never would be. Still, memories of that night churned his empty stomach. That was good, it meant he was 'human'. Guilt was a lifeline to his humanity, but it wasn't like he could loathe himself any more than he already did. It wasn't like he didn't remember each and every death, didn't see their eyes when he closed his own late at night. He deserved to be haunted by their stares, he…He shook his head, pulling himself from that spiraling train of thought and looked toward the new day.

He felt better. No pull in his chest, no burning, no itching. He was tired, and he felt a bit more empty than normal, but there would be food soon enough.

He took a step… and fell to the ground.

There was no pain, he was just weak. He could barely move his fingers, let alone stand. Apparently all his energy had gone into standing up and contemplating and confronting that horrid evening.

Still, this felt sudden, despite his exhaustion. Was this what he had been feeling when he was alone, when the headmaster was gone? The lethargy and difficulty concentrating were leading to this? Still, there should be some-

Then his stomach ached. Hunger, deep and raw. It grew and grew until it blossomed into a mild pain. Every vein cried out in need. Empty.

But he couldn't move. So he laid on the cold cobblestone floor, surrounded by, and on top, of open books, and waited. Barely able to keep his eyes open.

It felt like an eternity and yet he must have fallen asleep for he was awoken by the sound of clanking chains. They pulled him slowly this time, gently, as if they knew he was tired. They lifted him off the ground and set him in the chair delicately. It didn't matter, he still slumped forward, he didn't have the energy to sit up. But then…. A drum. His mouth twitched and his hands clamped down on the chair arms, nails screeching across the metal as he tensed.

That drumming. That meant that there was something nearby to eat, something that would make this emptiness go away.

The door finally formed, the drumbeat just on the other side. He lunged as the door opened hoping to grab the meal on the other side, catch it unawares.

A small bit of energy returned as he saw the periwinkle robes. He vaguely remembered them being the type of thing a friend of his wore. The chains tried to pull him back as before but he dug his feet into the ground and stayed standing.

"Good Morning Severus, I-" The man turned and stared at the Potions Master as the vampire fought against the chains. Snape stood, his entire body at an angle as he used his weight as a counter balance to help keep him upright. He vaguely wondered how he looked right now. Wretched and almost snarling as he strained in an attempt to reach the succulent meal in front of him.

Merlin the man smelled good, like lemon zest and power. Delicious. Food. Blood, fresh and moving under that paper thin skin. He could almost see it, taste it.

The man watched as Snape strained against the chains and then blinked, nodding to the chair. The chains redoubled their efforts and Snape was pulled back with a bang. He hit the chair and slumped down, energy spent.

"Severus, what is wrong? You were doing so well. You've been eating, you shouldn't be this violent now that the addiction is out of your system."

The answer was mumbled, barely audible from shame as awareness creeped forward as the red mist skunk back. Perhaps it left due to the shock of being pulled into the chair, maybe from lack of energy, maybe from the awareness that any attack was futile. Snape almost wished it hadn't left, for now he knew. The man was Albus, he had tried to eat...

"Severus?"

He didn't want to reply. He didn't want to be seen like this, but he knew the headmaster. The old man would stand there until he got an answer.

"No….energy. Hungry."

"Well, I have some food here for you."

The vial was levitated over but Snape could barely raise his hand, let alone grasp a vial. He wasn't sure he would have wanted to if he could. Surely he deserved for this discomfort and weakness to turn to violent agony. He had tried to attack Albus, he still wanted to. He was a disgusting monster and should be treated no less. Hadn't his 'dreams' proven that? Hadn't the fact that he was willing to do it again, for revenge? How could it be any other goal? He could lie and say it was about redemption, but was it? Could he trust his own thoughts and feelings when he locked them away so often? Besides, it didn't matter how much he changed or how many lives he saved; he had killed on purpose, he had killed by accident, and part of him still felt ecstasy when he took a life. Between his teeth. Down his throat. So hungry. So tired. He barely felt the vial hit his hand, nudging it insistently.

"Oh dear… this isn't good at all." The vial was uncorked and floated over to his mouth. He still did not move so it was roughly poured in. Snape managed to swallow, not tasting anything. Even the blood of adolescents had some flavor, life and copper. This…this was nothing. It sated nothing. It was emptiness. He wanted more, fresh, he could hear the nearby heartbeat… but it sounded far away. Out of reach.

"How do you feel now?"

Snape didn't respond, he was too tired. He closed his eyes and drifted away.

An enormously loud drumbeat brought Snape to consciousness.

"Hello Albus. Good ter see yeh. How are yeh?"

Snape could hear the voices on the other side of the wall. He groggily shook his head a bit and opened his eyes. It was a bit hard to hear words over that loud drum, it could be Hagrid's. It was the only beat he could think of that would be so loud. Snape shook his head and tried to focus on the voices.

"Quite well. However Severus is not."

"Well that's not surprising considering he's goin through detox."

"The detox is over Hagrid, but he seems to have no energy. Despite having two small meals a day."

Well, what's he eatin?"

Snape blinked blearily. Hagrid was here. Talking to the headmaster.

"Two of these vials of blood from a muggle hospital. There is a stasis charm over them so they are fresh."

"Muggle hospital? And he's alone there most o' the day? Well, that's mos likely the problem, Professor. He ain't gettin any o' the energy he needs cept from yeh."

"I don't understand. Please explain, my boy."

"Well, it's not jes about blood. It's bout energy. Vampires get that when they feed directly from people, and older vampires can get tha' from jes being around people. They still need blood though. Muggle blood don't have near the energy magic blood does. So when hedrinks wizard blood from a vial, well I bet he can still get some o' that energy. Not so much with muggle blood. So if ye'r the only one around him, well ye'r the only one he's getting that energy from. But he ain't practiced getting that intentionally I'm assumin. Also I'm guessin yeh haven't been around him so much, so 'es essentially, well he's eaten but he's dyin o' thirst."

"Oh. Oh, Severus."

"'S'al right, he jes needs some magical blood and he'll be right as rain."

"Would you perhaps volunteer?"

"Course, already done it a few times."

"What would I do without you Hagrid. Your knowledge is invaluable."

"Well, I'm sure Kettleburn could have answered."

"Ah...he is on probation again and is decidedly annoyed at me. He is also not part of the Order.

"Again? What did he do this time?"

"It's not really clear. It blew up. I'd better get this to Severus."

"May I join yeh?"

"I will have to remove the memory of where I'm taking you, Hagrid."

"That's fine. I trust yeh."

"Very well."

The door slowly started to appear and Severus looked up briefly before his head fell again.

"Hello Severus, I brought a friend."

"Hagrid, I….heard. How… dare…"

Both men ignored his words and Hagrid looked at him with concern.

"Oh. He hasn't had near enough energy for a good bit now. I'm sorry Professor."

Snape would sneer if he could but he didn't have the energy.

"Oh my dear boy I had no idea."

Snape's head was lifted and tilted up and to the side.

The pitcher floated over and tipped very slightly. Warmth seeped down his chin and into his mouth. He swallowed, his body tingling slightly, but the lethargy remained.

"Huh, there should be some reaction."

"Does he need more?"

"Well, yeah but there should have been something with that. … Perhaps we need blood with more magic."

"You should have plenty, Hagrid. A half giant and a wizard?"

"Well, he's a false 400. He might need more."

"Well we can't use Minerva's, he just recovered from that."

"Right, right…. uhm. Flitwick?"

"No. The fewer who know the full extent of Snape's situation, and powers, the better. What about mine?

Snape twitched slightly at this. Could he really be considering this? No, it was such an idiotic idea.

"No headmaster, that would be a very bad idea."

Snape mentally exhaled, thank Merlin for Hagrid's obsession with monsters.

"What if we were to mix it with yours? Let's say, a cup?"

Snape would have nodded if he could. That might actually work.

"Let's start with a tablespoon."

"Erring on the side of caution is no crime." A wand cut the air and Snape could smell something… different. He stirred a bit in the chair, trying to sit up.

"Eh, that's a good sign. Here, float him the pitcher again."

Snape could smell the pitcher as it got nearer. It wasn't just the normal blood smell, it smelled of ozone. The pitcher was tipped and he managed to take a sip. Ozone and sweet and sour lemon overpowered the honey and pine. The energy in the mixture hit his tongue, sending slight tingles across his mouth, and when he swallowed…

His eyes snapped open and he grabbed the pitcher.

"Oh, that's definitely a good sign I think."

"Indeed my boy. I think our good professor is on the mend."

Severus took a second swallow, energy quickly filling him. Snape had frequently pulled all nighters as a student drinking black tea and other more magical stimulants. Now, it felt as though he was back in the Slytherin common room, drinking night owl potions at two in the morning. He was practically buzzing, and his mind felt as fuzzy as it did then after five straight days awake. On his third swallow, his mind was flooded with more energy. It was so powerful he could see it vividly in his thoughts. Odd patterns that seemed never ending. They spun violently as he fell into their depths, and as he sunk into that buffeting wind, he saw beauty. Bliss. Freedom. Merlin, it was euphoric and overwhelming in its intensity.

The pitcher was empty within moments, too soon, and dropped to the ground as Snape took a deep breath he didn't need. He felt tired, but frantic and wired. Every muscle felt coiled, filled with energy, but the rest of him felt empty. Nearly the exact after effect of too many night owl potions. There were two cures. One was time, the other more immediate solution was more potion. He looked at the two men in front of him, or more accurately looked through them.

"Professor? Yeh feeling better?"

Snape barely heard the words at all. He stared at them, unseeing, fingers twitching.

"Professor?"

Snape didn't respond. The sound of drums beat in his ears, and the feel of ozone lay heavy in his nose and throat. He breathed in deeply, getting more of that intoxicating scent. That alone penetrated this wired feeling or energetic exhaustion. His eyes snapped to the tall figure as the wizard held up his wand to heal the small cut he'd used to fill the pitcher. That was the source of the smell. That was where this energy came from. What he needed.

"Severus-"

Snape lunged. The chains snapped taut. They creaked loudly, dutifully doing their job as the vampire they held strained against them with all his might.

"Bloody hell!"

"Severus!"

Snape barely heard the words, they felt like background noise, sounds above water while he was below. He pulled, all the energy buzzing in his muscles coming to the fore. Nothing else besides that smell of ozone mattered. He had to reach it. His recent meal felt like ether in his veins, as if he was running on the fumes of boiling blood instead of that liquid itself. Potent but unsatisfying, too thin.

His feet scrabbled on the stones briefly before finding purchase, talons digging into the rock. He put all his might behind moving forward, pulling with his arms, pushing off the floor with his legs. He had to get closer. He would try again and again until he reached the source of that wonderful blood that was birthed in the utmost reaches of the sky. So, one… more… attempt!

And the manacles snapped.

"Shit!"

"Hagrid! Run!" The tall thin figure which exuded that heady smell bellowed as he raised his wand.

Snape dashed forward, ducking low and close. A spell sped above him and the back right corner exploded with chains wrapping in and around themselves. Snape closed the gap in one step and shot towards the still slowly bleeding cut. Red, thin, sapid upon his tongue. It could only be better pure and from the source.

"Dumbledore, no!"

Snape felt the back of his suit yanked up by a large hand and he was rushing through the air toward the wall behind the large man. He landed, bracing himself just before the stone, head spinning as it smacked the wall.

His eyes snapped open and he pushed off before the stones could grab him with quickly forming hands. He jumped toward the giant man with angry claws, grasping for him. The man was in between him and the ozone born blood.

"Hagrid, I said leave!"

The large man slid out the door as the source of the smell slashed his wand to the side, and Snape took that opportunity. His way clear he landed and jumped, slamming into the older wizard who had foolishly sacrificed his own safety for another's, pushing him against the wall with the momentum of his whole body. The smell was strong, as mouthwatering as the man's steady unperturbed heart beat. He bit down.

And it was glorious.

( Pplease review. I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied with the juxtaposition of Snape's past thoughts vs his present considerations of them. If you have thoughts, I'd love to hear them.)