(It's been a rough two weeks folks, but hopefully it's getting better. I went back a few chapters and fixed a date, we are now 16 days since Snape got locked up by Dumbledore which means it is May 3rd 1991, a Friday. Why, because I say so. Maybe I'll change that. It's not really important. Snape needs to get a move on if he wants to be back for exams!

Also WARNING, small sex scene. Why am I doing so many sex scenes now? Because I'm bad at them and the only way to get better is to practice. Also because once he returns there will likely be very few opportunities for him to do anything and the scene needs to happen for something I may decide to do in the future. If it doesn't happen I don't even have the choice to do the scene. I am not happy with this chapter and critiques are welcome, sorry it took so long but I edited this many times before it got to something I was even remotely satisfied with.)

He went home and cleaned up; changed his clothes and showered. He brushed his hair and reapplied his protective lotion and a bottle of reflection lotion he had found behind ten bottles of expired ingredients. He wished he had known that was here earlier. However unlikely it was that he'd run into a silver backed mirror in the muggle world in this century.

He sat down in his chair after a quick drying charm to his hair dried the lotions and set his hair to its usual greasy state. What to do? He had just eaten 24 people. Give or take a few pints on the floor. He needed to regain control, set up his shields. What could he do that would be far removed from screams or moans or the scent of fear? What had none of those but might still challenge him?

He sighed. A drunkard. And he knew where to find one. He might not even smell like piss. He sighed, weary with his continued failed attempts. His mind was tired as once again he tried to push his horrible mistakes and the emotions associated with them behind the shields he was attempting to prevent from breaking entirely. He supposed it wasn't healthy, but a stoic demeanor and a calm mind were required if he wanted to live amongst people he didn't want to kill or find out about his alliances.

He was about to transfigure his clothes into more muggles attire when he remembered that Clara had seen him in his Potion's Master outfit and thought he taught theater. He transfigured the pants and shoes a bit but kept the coat. He left the cloak, though that more than anything else made him feel naked. He was about to leave when there was a clink behind him. He turned to find the goblet there, yet again.

He raised a brow. So quickly? He picked it up and smelled it. Nearly no scent except for a faint bit of sugar. A second year maybe? They should know by now not to touch random objects, even if they were in the middle of a corridor. Especially if they just appeared in the middle of a corridor! They knew the leviosa charm by that point! He sighed and downed the contents, blood didn't keep well in the open air.

He watched the cup vanish and then headed out the door. He had a feeling he knew where his quarry might be. He headed toward the main street and one of the pubs. He looked in through the window. No one was especially drunk yet by the smell and behaviors. Or they held it well. He continued walking. What had the name of Clara's pub been?

Ben's Hour? Ben's Chime? The Clocktower? Something with that large clock the muggles were proud of. He hurried down the street looking for something with an appropriate name. He stopped short of the second to last restaurant on the street as he heard a heartbeat from a rather large side street leading to a parking lot. And the sound of water. He sneered and waited. There was mainly one type of man that relieved themselves in such a manner, the homeless and the drunk. The homeless wouldn't be allowed in this bar so that left the latter. Not long later a man who was zipping himself up came out and looked both ways.

The man before him was filthy, not physically, but internally. He smoked. He drank. He smelled of booze, not just him but his blood. That and metal. Snape took another breath. He might also be a second generation squib, maybe. There was a cut on the man's finger and the blood seemed full of energy, more so than most muggles. The man's only appetizing feature, the possibility of magic hidden in his veins. Besides the fact that he was a drunk who didn't smell of piss and wouldn't be missed. His hair was a dirty browning blond, his face wrinkled beyond his age and circles under eyes set into a slightly round face told of not just late nights but early mornings. The man looked at him as he situated his pants.

"The fuck you lookin at, you poofter?"

Snape grit his teeth and ignored the slur, now was not the time to hex the disrespectful idiot. He could teach the man a lesson later. "A possible drinking buddy. I want to drown my sorrows tonight, but don't know where to go. You smell like you do."

The man's demeanor changed immediately. Where a moment ago he was sullen and confrontational now he was full of hope and smiles.

"You buyin?" Came the question. The man obviously didn't care about how he was addressed as long as there was liquor.

"I believe that was implied…" Was his snide reply.

"All riiight! This way." The man turned on his heel and started walking, almost tripping a few times, one which Snape had to reach out and grab his collar to prevent him from falling.

"So, who's my 'sterious benefactor?"

"Stefan."

"Hey Stefan. I'm Ean Dorfus, but evr'yone calls me Dorfus." The man led him down the street and around the corner to the last bar, or rather a restaurant with a bar.

He could smell her before he entered. Clara. Her scent of baked bread and melted butter was distinct and simple amidst the others. He looked through the window and found her quickly. Her hair was tied up above a black shirt with a skewed collar that revealed a creamy neck. She gestured with her hands as she directed staff from the kitchen door. He felt his lip quirk up before he schooled his expression. She was very much in her element here.

He opened the door and she turned to see who entered and raised a brow, and then both when she saw who he had entered with. She gave one last order and then handed off a clipboard to a young African man and headed toward the bar.

"I'll take this one Hera." She said to a young woman with frizzy hair who was the concierge. The woman nodded and glanced at Snape with an interested look, and then Dorfus; her face quickly was graced with a frown.

"Well Stefan, how are you doing tonight? And in such company?"

"He's buyin." Said Dorfus rudely, and was mostly ignored by both of them.

Snape nodded. "As he said, I am buying. Which means I get to choose the drinks."

"Says who?!"

"Says the person who is giving you free drinks."

Dorfus mumbled and grumbled but nodded and headed over to the bar.

Snape stayed behind and smirked. "I'm keeping an eye on him so he doesn't end up obstructing traffic with his corpse. I intend to lead him out after two drinks, don't worry."

Clara smiled. "And what brought this bout of humanitarianism on?"

"The fact that he was loitering outside the establishment that I remembered was yours."

"My savior twice now." Said Clara with a genuine smile. "Could I call on you to save me a third?"

"It depends on from what." He said carefully, but intrigued.

"Boredom. My son is going to be at a study group sleepover this coming Monday. They are doing a project together on puffins and have to make a diorama. I, however, have no plans. If you're still around that is?"

He had no idea, but he had a feeling he most likely would be. And an evening with someone who didn't know him might be refreshing. He also needed to give her some commands, get his blood into her system. He would have the weekend to figure out how. He nodded. "Seven pm, sharp?"

"I'll see you then. First drink is on the house, I'll tell Darryl."

"I'm sure Dorfus will thank you. As does my bank account."

"Yeah, a teacher's salary. I've heard it from my cousin. It's criminal."

Snape nodded in thanks and agreement. Apparently underpaying those who taught the world's future idiots was something that crossed multiple borders.

He headed over to the bar to an annoyed Dorfus and ordered two beers from the tap by pointing at one of the handles. He had never really paid attention to beer, let alone muggle beer. He knew enough to pass as a muggle in a bar, he knew a few names, that was it. The mugs were put down in front of them and Dorfus immediately drank half of his, much to Snape's disgust.

"So what sorrows you drownin?" Asked the man as he wiped foam from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Poor life choices." Said Snape, not really caring to elaborate or answer. "You?"

"Pooor career choices. Pooor life choices. Pooor love choices." The man eyed the glass and finished it. "Poooorrrrrr drink choices. Can I please get a bottle? Their tap options are… bad."

Snape slid his own drink over to the man, who downed it, finished his own, and looked at the wall board listing beers by the bottle. Snape nodded. Dorfus pointed at a beer and the bartender scowled, but went to get it.

"So you new here?"

"No, but I work far away and am not home frequently. And before you ask, I teach."

"What?" Said Dorfus as he grabbed the bottle from the bartender.

"Maths, and drama, not that the students aren't capable of creating that themselves. No. They must be taught to do it properly. Without killing each other."

Dorfus chuckled. "Never got theater myself. Not then. Was happy then. Now, pretending to be someone else for a few hours sounds nice." Dorfus took a swig of his and set it down.

"I suppose. So you are unhappy with…"

"Everything. Career, house, prospects, bank account. I mean, I'm ok, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm stuck."

Ah. The plight of the average man. Stagnation. Snape asked the bartender for one of whatever Dorfus was having.

"Well, I was stuck a long time ago, perhaps I could offer a solution."

"Really? What makes you think your solution will work for me?"

"Because money solves most normal problems. I learned that from a friend." It was true. It seemed no matter what shit Lucius got into, he worked his way out with his money, or what he had bought with it. Pity it couldn't solve his problems. Not even half of them. But it most likely could solve Dorfus'. Not drinking so much would most likely solve most of Dorfus' problems.

Of course, drinking too much would solve them as well, because he'd be dead from liver poisoning within three years. Snape could tell, it hadn't started yet, but his father had a similar complexion just before his decline. Snape had honestly considered letting the man live so he could waste away, but then he would have had to share the house with him.

Snape returned his attention to Dorfus who had finished his bottle already. Snape took a false sip of his… pilsner according to the bottle, and set it down. Dorfus was in thought.

"This some sort of scheme? Did you bring me in here to pitch me some sort of bullshit-"

"No. I don't preach bullshit. It gets you nowhere and leaves me bored. We can discuss that later. For now let's go find somewhere with more…"

"Accepting people." Said Dorfus, noting the way the bartender looked at him.

"Exactly." Snape hadn't really had anything to say, and just let the man finish the suggestion. Snape set down a twenty and a five, waving off change. He grabbed his beer and headed out, nodding to Clara as they left. She nodded back with a smile that spoke volumes.

The door closed behind them and they walked a bit before Dorfus turned and looked up at Snape.

"I know a place. S'only 2 hours…and a half."

"That's a rather long way to go for a drink." For muggles, at least in Britain, half an hour seemed a long way to go. According to Dumbledore, people in other countries thought 6 hours was an acceptable travel time. Muggles were insane. … No, that was unfair, people were insane. Some wizards thought it was perfectly fine to fly for two hours or more. On a broom.

"Trust me. 'S worth it."

Was it? Could he really manage two hours in a car with the man and not kill him? Snape looked at the beer in his hand. There were other options.

"And where is it we are going?"

"'S'club!"

"Yes, but where is it?" Said Snape as he managed to bite back a scathing retort.

"London."

London, ugh. Well, he wanted to test himself while drunk, and the man wasn't nearly drunk enough, and he didn't want a scene in his hometown, especially near the bar of someone he was now acquainted with. Well, at least it would be the muggle world. He looked at the beer in his hand again. "Give me a moment. I'll… drive. Let me use the facilities first."

"Ssssure!"

Snape walked a bit of a way back to Clara's bar, the Clocktower, and removed a vial of blood from his bandolier. He poured it into the bottle and swirled it, mixing it thoroughly. He turned around and walked back to Dorfus, and handed him the beer upon arrival.

"I shouldn't have this if I'm driving." He vaguely remembered something about that. They had lived within walking distance of the only pub in his youth, the town had certainly grown since then with three of them. Either way, his father hadn't needed a car. On the rare times he did drive, he drove sober. He did remember that. The man had loved his car far more than he ever had Severus. He briefly wondered what had happened to the vehicle, and if he found it how big of an explosion it might make.

"Yeaaah, give it 'ere!" Dorfus grabbed the beer and immediately took a long swig, breaking Snape out of his violent fantasy. "Ugh, beer's warm."

"Follow me, my vehicle is this way."

"Huh, vehi-cal. 'S'funny word."

"Indeed." He was starting to doubt the man would survive the night.

"Where are we going?"

"My vehicle, follow me." Snape repeated, already tired with the drunken man.

They walked, aimlessly. The man was too drunk to realize. Snape listened to the nonsense spewing from his companion's mouth, keeping an eye on the bottle. It didn't take more than a few minutes for it to be empty. When it was, he turned down the next side street, dragging Dorfus with him. A quick legilimens told him he was looking for Meard street, which was in the vicinity of the rose garden in London. He cast a quick somnus on the man, and then grabbed his arm and apparated.

He appeared in a back street near the rose gardens and rennervated Dorfus. The man heaved, then swallowed his nausea. It would have been impressive if Snape didn't know it was a skill learned from years of heavy drinking. Dorfus looked around.

"Where…are we?"

"London, I drove and you fell asleep. Where exactly are we going?"

It was a testament to the man's inebriation that he didn't question it, or perhaps it was just how used he was to blacking out. Either way Dorfus didn't hesitate, he just smiled and began walking, looking for a street sign. They were on their way soon enough. Dorfus' walked quickly, the water adjacent beer and a two pilsners not enough to keep the veteran alcoholic truly inebriated. Soon they stopped in front of a double wooden door with a barrel leaking a red far too deep to be wine swinging above. Snape stared at the sign. The Fanged Barrel. Really. Really? He looked at Dorfus, who seemed oblivious.

"Why here?"

"Seemed like your type of place?"

"How so?" Said Snape, tense and ready to act.

"Well the people here dress like you."

"And that is…"

Dorfus shrugged and shoved open the front door. "Different."

"And you know of this place how?"

"They got drinks, and they don't turn anyone away."

Snape frowned. He didn't really want to go in. He could feel the thrum of loud music from outside, smell the stench of sweat and hormones and…blood. Animal blood. What the hell was going on in there? He looked at Dorfus. It would be good for the man to be seen elsewhere, and have some more drinks, but… he really did not want to go in there. Not yet, the time discrepancy for one would be a problem. He needed to kill at least another hour, then their arrival could be boiled down to illegal driving practices. He looked back at the door. Besides, he didn't want to be sober in there.

"Dorfus…Let's get some food first."

"It's… like late, 9 at least..." Dorfus turned to look at him oddly.

"I was unaware that the hour of the day determined if one is hungry, let's get some food first."

Dorfus swayed with the suggestion and nodded, closing the door and following Snape. There was a man selling street food and they grabbed something smelling of foreign spices. Curried lamb on sticks, kebab, according to the sign. Snape set down two of notes boasting the number ten and the man seemed pleased enough, doubly so when he waved away the change.

They went to a bench and sat down to eat. The conversation was jilted, one sided, and increasingly uncomfortable as Dorfus sobered up even more. But as Snape was paying the man didn't really protest. He protested less when Snape gave him half his lamb, proclaiming it 'too spicy'. He had surreptitiously discarded a few pieces in the bushes. It was only half an hour later when they threw out their paper plates and started walking that the trouble started.

They passed an alley that was long and dark and Snape paused. He was hungry as usual, and wanted both types of drink before they headed into the loud venue. Even if the man had sobered up, anything would help.

He also had an idea. This man was not very well liked. A drunkard who roamed from establishment to establishment, only remembered via what money he could provide and what problems he did. He would make an excellent thrall and Snape could perhaps help Clara and Dorfus by ridding the man of his alcoholism. A constantly drunk thrall was not what he wanted, but a man that could distract enemies and bring him food was. It could very well save his life down the line if he needed to flee, needed food and couldn't hunt, couldn't go outside. The less he showed his face in the neighborhood the better. Finally, if he failed it would be no loss. As it was Friday he could easily doctor something to make it look like he died Sunday if necessary. He would not think about the fact that if he had a thrall, that made him the thrall's… No.

Dorfus looked with Snape down the alley. "What? You need to take a leak? Again?"

While he was thankful for his medallion faking his digestive processes he did rather miss not having to use the restroom. Hours of uninterrupted brewing or marking marred by having to use the facilities was an unfortunate side effect of his charade. Now though, he hadn't had any liquid besides blood in days. He'd faked drinking at the bar, pouring out a tiny bit and taking one sip that the medallion would most likely just turn to acid, or erase altogether.

Still he needed an excuse to get Dorfus to follow him… Or did he?

"Follow me." He started walking into the alley but paused when he noticed he wasn't being followed. He turned and stared at the man. He stood stock still looking worriedly at the tall walls. "What, may I ask, is the problem now?"

"Don't like tight spaces."

Snape sighed internally. "Follow me, I will protect you."

The man just shook his head. Annoyed, Snape cast a wandless muffliato behind his back then grabbed Dorfus and pulled him into the alley.

"What! No? Don't! I'll be crushed!" Dorfus yelled as he was pulled further into the darkness.

"You'll be fine. Quiet, do not struggle." But the man did, so Snape ignored him as he moved them further into the alley. He pulled his head to the side and breathed in the smell of vodka for a moment before biting down. Dorfus yelled but the sound quickly turned into a more pleased mumble. Snape drank and felt the blood hit his stomach and warm it far more than usual, he felt slightly heady almost immediately. He pulled at the wound, sucking firmly but not painfully. The man moaned once more and he withdrew, pleasantly heady.

"No. Don't stop." Dorfus mumbled as he blinked a bit blearily, as if coming out of a trance.

"It will be fine. This will feel good too." Said Snape, his tone of voice showing that he absolutely did not care if it actually did. He sliced his wrist open with his teeth and held it up to the man's mouth. Dorfus blanched, snapping out of the heady state.

"I ain't fucking-"

"Drink."

The man's eyes glazed over and he complied. They cleared after the third swallow but by that point, as usual, it was far too late. The euphorigenic properties had become the sole center of his attention. Snape concentrated on what he wanted this man to be. A thrall. One completely devoted to him. He wanted him to retain his personality, he wanted him to be aware of himself and able to blend into society, but obey with no unnecessary questions. He wanted-

Snape paused. It felt different. Something felt different from when other people had drunk and that was never good. The unknown was dangerous. Knowing too much was dangerous as well but that was most likely not the case here, and beside the point. The fact that it felt good, very good, was also beside the point.

Snape looked down and scowled, but didn't see Dorfus doing anything especially interesting. Just drinking. But it felt different. Intent, it was all about intent. He was making a thrall. He had to concentrate and push through the feeling. If it went wrong he might end up killing the man or creating a vampi-

He scowled, on the brink of an epiphany. A thrall. He was essentially one step away from creating a new vampire… Fuck. Of course it felt good, procreation. He tried to remember if his sire had exhibited signs of arousal, but could not remember any. Perhaps because it had not exactly been something his sire had wanted.

The man pulled at his wrist, sucking at the wound and Snape shifted very slightly, hiding any reaction to the man's attentions. Dorfus was not so inclined. The man grabbed his wrist, surprisingly gently, and massaged it above the wound. He pulled his hand down as if he could squeeze more blood out, exciting the flesh with alternating flutters of fingertips and hard massaging thumbs. Snape could feel his own arousal pressing against his pants, but ignored it. He'd deal with it later, he could get rid of it easily enough by flexing or thinking appropriately disgusting thoughts. Hopefully. He'd not had to do that for ages, not since before he died. Now, however, he needed to focus and by the man's earlier comments he-

Dorfus pressed himself into Snape, the man not trying to hide his own interest at all. Upon feeling the fact that it was reciprocated, the smaller man pushed himself harder into it. Snape was tempted to move away, to disabuse the man of any notion that he might reciprocate his interest, but at the same time… this felt so very good.

"And… what happened to 'poofter'?" Snape drawled, the amusement there unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know him well.

Dorfus stopped and looked up, licking his lips clean. The man was not… attractive per se. Shorter, messy hair, face showing years beyond what it had lived, and it had lived a good while. More than Snape at least. He was not interesting physically, and as far as Snape could tell, he was not interesting mentally either. He was, however, there, ready, and Snape most definitely wanted to determine if he was willing before the man became a thrall. It would be rather hard to determine afterward as the man would be inclined to just say yes. He'd have to think about that, put his intent into allowing the man to hold onto his own opinions and preferences.

While Snape regarded Dorfus, Dorfus was regarding Snape, far more obviously as well. He came to a decision on what he wanted fairly quickly however.

"Gets most asshole men to back off." He paused and swallowed. "We doin this?" The man asked with a questioning look, a quick lick of the lips betraying his feelings on the matter.

Snape just sneered. "What do you think?" He said, giving the man one more chance to clear his head of the entrancing blood and posit what he was about to do.

Dorfus gave a small sickeningly happy smirk instead, taking no time to ponder the odd events that had led to this point. "I think that's a yes."

He hadn't had this type of licentious late night encounter since…Well, it had been a while. He regarded the man and quirked his lip slightly. "Well then, I'm sure you can figure out… what I'd prefer."

The man just stared and Snape exhaled in annoyance.

"Bend. Over." He hissed, annoyed at the man's inability to read between the lines, and Dorfus hurried to obey.

The man had absolutely no interest in foreplay. He fumbled with his buckle and turned around while Snape made to undo his own buttons. As soon as the man looked away withdrew his wand and cast a muggle repelling charm. He then checked the silencing spell before casting a quick specialized cleaning charm followed by a lubricant charm and a protective charm so there wouldn't be a mess after, at least not from him. Spell after spell left the wand, illuminating the rather dark alley in small flashes; his future thrall seemed to pay no mind.

"What's takin' so long? You gonna leave me hangin' with my pants down here? Get on with it." He said as he braced against the brick wall.

Snape ignored the man's vulgarity, but smirked and moved forward. The man's skin was white, pale and smooth besides a smattering of dark hairs. It was not a pretty pale, but that of skin that never saw the sun. His legs however told of lots of walking, or some type of exercise, as did the man's glutes.

(Sex scene)

He cast one more spell to prepare the man slightly, he had no interest in a thrall that couldn't walk this evening. It would also speed things up, he did not particularly want to spend over long in this back alley. But he was not going to turn this down just because the location was not… ideal, not after years of celibacy, not with the way making a thrall felt. Besides, doing it by hand was far too intimate, and the man hadn't asked.

He sheathed his wand and took himself in hand. He enjoyed the coolness of his fingers on himself for a moment as he lined himself up, then, slowly, savoring the feeling, he pushed forward slightly. He inhaled sharply at the sensation, delicious pressure conforming to every contour. Dorfus grunted, even though Snape had barely moved. It was most likely not pleasant, but the man could reap what he sowed for all he cared. He'd heal him if necessary, awkward as it would be.

Snape put his wrist to his mouth and bit down again, on the side this time. Blood welled up quickly and he placed his wrist on the man's shoulder so it was in reach as he leaned over him.

"Drink."

Dorfus turned his head and tentatively drank, waiting, and Snape concentrated as he poured his intent into the act. He included the want for the man to have his own opinions and the ability to say he didn't want to do something, even if the man still then had to do it anyway.

The bond felt stronger, the act of creating it more intense, as if it was even closer to completion. If he could complete that act with finishing another… it would be glorious if he could time it right. He began a movement that matched the man's swallows, small and as unsatisfying for Dorfus as the man's small sips were for him. The sensations that little bit of movement caused made Severus bite down on his lip. All that pressure on one point, most of him being kissed by the night air and crying out for warmth, it was intense and nearly overstimulating, but he continued. The man's sparse unhappy grunts while he acclimated to him quickly turned into dissatisfied sounds between swallows of red chains.

Snape tried not to think about how this ritual would end, how it was similar to the mark on his arm, how some would consider it worse, how he knew that it could be. He would not be that type of… He couldn't even think of the word in relation to himself. He shouldn't now anyway, as he did not want that intent in this bond. He focused on the growing coils of heat, on his goals, on anything other than the truth.

Then Dorfus, seeking satisfaction in his blood again, took a larger swallow. Snape snapped his hips forward, enveloping himself in satin warmth, and his soon to be thrall gasped. The meaning was clear. Bigger swallows would be rewarded with far more satisfactory action's on Snape's part. Dorfus returned to Snape's wrist with much more interest and Snape matched it. He focused on the act, pushing unpleasant thoughts of how he had once wanted the type of power this ritual would give him. He focused on the twin sensations of need asking him for everything he was instead.

He felt Dorfus' breaths quicken as the man pulled at his wrist and the blood worked though his system. It was making every vein in Snape's body contract to push blood out to bind the man, waiting to spring back into position with that final swallow. Tightening, constricting, like other parts of him slowly were with each snap of his hips. Everything felt crystal clear as they kept a rhythm. A silent violin, a perfect note hit as the bow reached its farthest point, and Dorfus released a groan and faltered in his part of the musicless beat. The sudden lack of sensation, of that pull in his wrist, was excruciating. A loss that no amount of movement on his part could fill.

"Don't stop drinking." Snape demanded as he held the man's shoulder with his free hand and pulled back towards himself to push further against that sweet spot. Dorfus groaned, and reached below intent on his own release. Snape stopped his own search for relief and grabbed the man's hand, slowing his movement before leaning forward and whispering silkily, threateningly, in his ear. "Don't... Stop… Drinking." If Dorfus finished too soon it risked him coming out of the daze before he had been bound.

Dorfus returned to his wrist and Snape held back his own groan as every vein contracted again. His entire body a wound spring, tightening slowly, waiting to snap free. The man's neck was a temptation he didn't care to resist now that it was close. He bit down again and felt Dorfus moan into his wrist. He began to move once more, quickly increasing in fervor as he felt the bond nearing its completion. It was building into that white hot point of light, a sun that was warm; painful, but not deadly. A distant reminder of the days when that orb was not so unkind, a reminder that was getting closer. He swallowed and the warm blood hit his throat and stomach. Flying, the weight of the sky a symphony of euphoria. He thought again on what he needed from the man. The subservient acquiescence that was far too close to his own lack of freedom to think on long. No, not a servant, not a sycophant, not a… not unless absolutely necessary. And even then, even then… it hurt to think about. But this could save his life down the line.

He bit down harder as a distraction from that unpleasantness and Dorfus cried out, his entire body tightening as he found that temporary nirvana. Snape took a few more swallows before he shoved his wrist back into Dorfus' mouth, moving hungrily all the while.

The man went back to his task despite his shaking body and another few pulls did it. Snape's veins pushed out the final bit of blood and magic needed to turn the man into his thrall and that act was mimicked elsewhere. That white light on the horizon flared, he was a successful Icarus and reached it. It was deliciously painful; his magic and blood burned like muted sunlight as they reached out to connect with the blood he had given Dorfus. He could feel the man. Knew he was next to him, knew he was content, knew he was drunk, knew he was tired. Knew he was his thrall.

He gasped, releasing his oral hold on the man. Snape's entire body was taught like a bow, twin sensations of tense bliss in systems that represented current and future life. Release! Fulfillment. They sent him shooting toward that sun for a few unthinking moments before his body unwound, relaxed as if the bow had been unstrung. He removed his hand from the man's mouth as he pumped his hips a final shuddering time. It was over, an exquisite ending in this horrid place. He felt heady, and from more than just the alcohol. He could tell they were both rather spent, pleasantly so, but far more than any normal coupling would have done. Curiously he also felt wired, and knew his new thrall did as well. More than he did even.

(End Scene)

They both stayed there a moment, shaking as happily exhausted muscles greedily asked for oxygen or blood. Snape certainly felt lighter, on many fronts. Mentally, physically, his veins certainly felt lighter. He was hungry again. It had taken more than just blood to do this, it felt like it had taken quite a bit of his magic too. He wondered how muggle vampires managed, with more blood perhaps? He was so hungry already. He had a feeling it wouldn't matter if he had eaten a hundred people before this, making a thrall or a vampire made one hungry.

Snape removed himself from the still shaking Dorfus and straightened up. Dorfus braced himself against the wall for a moment, and Snape eyed the leaking wound on his neck briefly, hungrily, then flicked a healing spell at it. The wound scabbed over. Dorfus stood up finally as well and Snape scourgified them both of blood as they situated themselves.

"Well that ain't how I expected evnin to go. Not that I'm complainin' Haven't had a shag in a good few months." Said Dorfus and Snape tried not to sneer.

"How do you feel?" He asked instead, curious as to the effect of the bond.

"Fine. Better'n fine, feel full of energy. Feel great, cept I'm sober."

"Any… inclinations?" How much did the man want to… serve him? Hopefully not too much. He didn't want a house elf, someone who asked what they could do, offered help, hurt themselves if they failed. He just wanted someone who listened.

"Boy, I've been gay longer'n you've known what your prick does. I ain't doing that again for at least 7 hours."

Snape smirked, that was not what he meant. He'd have to test the bond the old fashioned way. "I meant, what do you want to do now?"

"I want another drink, I think I sweated out my last five just now."

"And if I were to say you should cut back?"

Dorfus frowned, silent for a moment. His addiction battling, hopefully, with the need to listen. "I'd probably just have three or so more tonight. Yeh only have my best interest at heart."

That was true. A thrall dead from alcohol poisoning would do him no good. He wondered if all thralls worked that way, or if his intent for the man to mostly be free shaped the man's interpretation of it. However, the man seemed inclined to listen to him, without direct powered commands as well. Just his words seemed enough to influence him.

"Very good, shall we go to this club of yours?" Snape asked. It would be a good place to test the bond. He was also hungry, very hungry. It had taken a good bit of blood to bind the man. More than four pints. He was eager to replace it, and doubted Dorfus' veins were up to the task if he wanted the man to do anything else tonight. He felt a little heady even after he had come down from that exquisite high. He hadn't taken much, maybe two pints, but it felt like he'd drunk at least three glasses of firewhiskey. How the muggle was lucid right now he had no idea.

He looked at the man and hoped he was up to the task of getting him a meal or two. Or five. But first he had a few questions.

"Explain your idiotic paranoia that the walls would crush you."

The man didn't seem cowed by his tone or insult. He just shrugged, as if agreeing that it was indeed idiotic. "I got mild claustrophobia."

"Claustrophobia? Mild?" Snape recognized the ending of the word, phobia, but couldn't remember what it meant in relation to the beginning. It was a mental condition, something wizards paid less attention to.

"Uhh, y'know. Debilitating fear of small spaces. S'mild cuz once I'm in the place I'm usually ok, don't feel like I'm suffocatin' like some folks do."

Snape nodded. "Very well. Please inform me of any other problems should you think of them."

'Yes master."

Snape froze. The word fell into his ears and his world came crashing down as the word he'd been trying not to think of registered. He always heard it in relation to him as Potions Master, or from a house elf. This… by itself, from a human. He felt as if he were twisting into something else, falling into an abyss of horrid alternate realities and timelines. His entire life warped in his mind with past and present desires mixed together in a sick mockery. Hideous possibilities that made his stomach churn and his body nearly, impossibly, throw up his meal.

He stumbled and leaned against the wall as images of himself on his ex Lord's throne swam before his eyes. No one was bowing, heads were tilting in offering and supplication. Bodies lay on the ground. Bellatrix, Malfoy, Nott. Their forms pale, empty of blood and soul. Eyes lifeless and lips frozen in the rictus of death, fixed in a pleased smile of successful servitude, or escape.

The scene vanished, suddenly Mr. Lee was close. His cruel smile was triumphantly fading to ash as his blood flowed down Snape's throat, sweet and full of hunger. Unhinged, unleashed, unrepentant as to whom he used to slake his needs. Empires burned, bled, fell. Women, men, children, faded into his veins. Wizards, muggles, beings, culled. Heroes, allies, enemies, rose up against him. He remained. Forever. Alone and uncaring.

Hogwarts appeared; dark and dismal, a new headmaster smirking in flowing black robes as others searched in vain for Dumbledore. Frantic, pleading, tears, as he commiserated and helped, all the while knowing, undermining, as he sat in charge. He knew after all, the answer to their questions. A hidden wine press sacrificing himself so others wouldn't have to, locked away in his own office for easy access.

The scene changed, and his hated childhood enemies appeared, chained and pale with fear in their eyes. Pain could come at any moment, the built up scar tissue on their necks spoke of it. Just as they had attacked him, could always find him, he now returned the favor. They begged for respite just as he had, even though they knew they wouldn't receive it, just as he hadn't.

Scene after scene of Snape in every possible role that dreaded word could conjure. Laughter in the back of his mind as his father was given proof of his son's unnatural depravity. Pleas for leniency from allies that went unanswered as they faded. Cries of disappointment from those he'd failed, those he'd loved, those he cared for and respected. Screams from his enemies echoed as they fell down his throat.

And blood. Rivers of blood down which familiar faces floated, half submerged. Eyes wide and blank, their life spilling into the river from rent throats. Horrified looks plastered on faces that would never move again. Some that he never wanted to see unmoving, others he would happily put there today. Face after face after-

"ENOUGH!" Snape yelled and the images vanished as his fist hit stone. The pain flared, his mind free he found himself in the dark alley, his newest, his only, thrall looking at him in concern. He knew it had only been seconds since his thrall spoke, despite him having lived through multiple lives in his mind. He had trained his mind to work quickly, make connections as fast as possible. He needed to do that to survive as a spy, or a teacher. He had conjured up all the possibilities that word could, as he was meant to, did automatically in his startled state… And it was horrifying.

He looked at the wall. The stone around his fist was cracked, and slightly bloody as his hand shook from the tension he put in it.

"Master. Master, are you ok?"

He returned his baleful stare to his thrall and the man flinched. "NEVER CALL ME THAT!"

"But-"

"Never call me that!" Snape said more quietly, but firmly. He untangled his other hand from his robe and stood up straight.

"But maste-"

Snape growled. This want seemed very ingrained. They'd have to take it a step at a time. He'd have to hold back the blissful nightmares until then.

"Never call me that around other people. Or where others have the possibility of overhearing."

"Y-yes master."

Snape's insides turned at word. Bloody bile rose in his throat. No. He would not be a master to anyone. Not even this man. Not like that. Not ever. He refused to entertain dreams of his youth that were now his conflicted nightmares as an adult. He flicked a scourgify and repairo at the wall and sighed. He really hated being a vampire sometimes.

He started to slowly walk towards the entrance of the alley way but paused, Dorfus did as well. He turned to look at his new thrall, and wondered how automatic his loyalty was, if he had automatically called him… that word. How smart was he. What other ingrained laws and ideas the man followed. He should lay down some rules just in case. Move forward, push the nightmares away. Move forward. He was not that type of man. He was not that type of monster. He was not a…master. How could he be a master to anyone when he wasn't his own master anyway?

"Do you know what I am?"

"I reckon you're a vampire." Said Dorfus with far too little concern in his voice.

Snape nodded. "Obviously. And a wizard. You shall tell no one about me, or vampires, or wizards, in any fashion related to reality."

Dorfus pouted. "Not an idiot."

Snape smirked in response. "That remains to be seen. Now, you'll be helping me find food tonight."

Dorfus frowned, Snape could practically hear the gears moving in the man's head. "I don't suppose you'd be happy with another curried lamb?"

Snape just curled his lip in amusement.

The man swallowed and gathered up his courage, or perhaps swallowed his fear. "Will they die?"

"Would it bother you if they did?" Snape asked, curious how depraved his new… thrall was.

Dorfus took a long time to think about it. "I… don't know. Where we're goin, if it was someone I knew, probably."

"I endeavor not to kill people who would be missed."

Dorfus scratched the side of his neck. Snape flicked another healing spell at it and Dorfus felt where the wound was with wide eyes before withdrawing his fingers. He looked at Snape. "Well, that's good to know, that you try not to kill people too much. The healing thing is nice too. Can you do that with hangovers?"

"Not with a wand."

Dorfus fiddled with his pocket, preparing to ask another question. "Am… I gonna need blood?"

"No." He paused, realizing he didn't actually know that for sure, it felt correct, but still. "You may receive mine perhaps on occasion. If you perform your tasks to my standards." He added and he saw the man's eyes light up. "Now. To this…"

"Club."

Snape nodded and they left the alley, Snape dropped the numerous spells as they left and sheathed his wand quickly. He wondered when his new thrall would start to panic and realize what had happened. He had certainly drunk enough to be relaxed as he was, although he was not acting inebriated.

They walked down the street, turning a few corners, ignoring glances from passers by and once again approached the building. The music, the thrumming of metal strings amplified by electricity, only got louder as Dorfus opened the door. A second double door brought the sound to a level that made Snape wince. But that wasn't what had his attention.

What the hell were all these muggle youths, and adults, doing dressed as century old wizards? Or hobos? Or muggers? Why were there shiny cheap cloaks? And hair that rivaled many of the Wizengamot's members? And so much jewelry Narcissa Malfoy would be jealous, if any of it were in fact real?

"What is this place?"

"Like it? Thought ya might based on your get up."

Snape looked down at Dorfus, dressed in dark grey tweed and producing a pop out top hat from somewhere. He also already had a vodka drink in his hand that was half empty. How the man managed that without him noticing, and so quickly, he had no clue. He looked around and saw a bartender wink at him. Dorfus most likely had a tab, and they knew what he wanted. It was still concerningly fast.

"What is this place?"

"Underground club, for the ostracized, callin' themselves punk, or goths."

"What?"

"A group, based around the music."

Snape paused, the music was… something. He supposed it was adjacent to the stuff some of his students seemed to listen to on the radio. He personally was partial to classical music with a strong violin and little else. Of course he hadn't exactly tried to expand his horizons music wise. He had been rather busy making poor life choices and failing at staying alive.

"And they dress like this because?" He asked, looking at one person with metal studs on their jacket and bright green hair in spikes.

"It's fun? Expressin themselves? I dunno? All I know is they don' judge, don' kick me out, and all the girls like my top hat."

On cue a young woman with purple hair that Nymphadora would be proud of walked up and winked at Dorfus.

"Hey Dorfus. See ya found your hat."

"Thaaat I did." He said with a nod as he set the empty glass down on the counter.

The woman regarded Snape as he regarded her. She was pale, with black makeup, black clothing, black jewelry, and smelled of charcoal and peaches. Specifically charcoal sticks for drawing, he somehow knew. Her accent was local, but light as if she had either moved here or spent time out of country.

"Nice jacket, very nice."

"He's my new friend! Stefan."

The girl smiled at Dorfus kindly, as if he was a child, then turned her attention to Snape. "Stefan eh? Fortuitous. I'm Stephanie, but people call me Nanni."

"Nanni." He nodded to her. He really didn't know what to do here. The music was giving him a headache, it was so loud. He couldn't even tell if it was good or bad, it was just loud. The buzz from his drink earlier had begun to fade, or at least was no longer strong enough to make the noise tolerable, and he was just annoyed. The smell of chicken blood was distracting, to say the least. He couldn't even tell where it was coming from. He blinked and shook his head.

"You alright handsome? If this is your first time here it can get a bit overwhelming."

Snape blinked. Handsome? Was the woman blind? He looked around, everyone here was… not the type of muggle one saw in the streets during the day. Not often.

"Stefan? You cool?"

Snape raised a brow at the question. "No, I am not cold."

The woman gave him a look but continued talking. Right, slang.

"Uh…I mean are you ok?"

"Yes, as much as I can be with how loud it is. Dorfus failed to mention there would be music and I have sensitive ears." This was entirely true. The thrumming of the electrical instruments was a bit intense.

Nanni glared at Dorfus who looked oblivious and had somehow already acquired another drink. "I got ear plugs."

"Ear… plugs?" What muggle stupidity would this woman produce for him?

"Yeah, I used to play in a band and needed them. Carry them around out of habit. Here, they are fresh." The woman took a little white packet out of her pocket and opened it. Two yellow cylinders sat in her palm. Snape stared at them. "Uh, they go in your ears."

"Why would I… Ah like Odysseus and the sirens."

The girl blinked as he picked them up and looked them over.

"Uh, yeah. I guess. Man I haven't read that since college. How old are you? Oh! Sorry. I didn't mean to ask that."

"Twenty nine, depending on who you ask."

The girl raised a brow. "You? You're 29? You're younger than me?"

"Measure age in the experiences you've had in your years, not in the years themselves."

Nanni laughed loudly. "Well that sounds like a fortune cookie line! But hey, I'm thirteen going on seventy five."

"I may as well be 400 then." Said Snape, smirking at the private joke. He squished the little sponges and put one in his ear. It made quite a difference. He felt… human. The sounds weren't so overwhelming. He used the other and nodded. "Thank you for these, they are… Adequate. Nanni. May… I invite you for a drink?"

Her smile faltered. " Oh, uh…I'm married."

Damn, that might make things complicated. Snape raised a brow. "And that precludes me from thanking you for the earplugs with a drink?"

"He's a jealous man."

He had experience with one of those, James Potter was extraordinarily envious and jealous, to his thinking. He had coveted Lily from the start. It would be rather satisfying to rid…cow a jealous man. "And this means you are worried for yourself, or any man you're seen with?"

"Both." Said the woman with a grimace.

"It is up to you, I have no concerns for my safety."

The woman looked him up and down, his skinny frame, his odd clothing. "You know martial arts?"

Martial arts, hand to hand combat. Sure, he could work with that. "I can defend myself."

"Easily too!"

Both of them looked down at Dorfus who had magically appeared again, this time with another drink that looked far stiffer. His face had a goofy grin.

"Nice hype man you got there."

"Indeed. Dorfus. Is that your last drink for the evening?"

"Not even close!"

"Let me rephrase. That is your last drink for the evening. I requested your assistance after this, remember?"

The man's eyes widened and his face grew serious before Snape raised a brow and he returned to his normal demeanor.

"Right! Right. Gotta be ready." He toasted Severus and headed off somewhere muttering something about water.

Nanni looked at him with wide eyes. "You… got Dorfus to stop drinking. What did you do?"

"I'm merely attempting to stave off liver failure. And I…" shit. He knew nothing about his thrall, the man's jobs or locale. Perhaps he could let her fill in the blanks. "I need his assistance with something delicate later and promised to pay him."

"Oh, cuz he does watch repair as a side business."

"Yes." Well, that was interesting. "And have you decided on that drink?"

"I will have to decline. Sorry."

"Very well. Thank you again for the ear plugs." He nodded his head and moved away. He needed Dorfus. Suddenly the man was beside him.

"You needed me?"

"Yes." Snape raised a brow, that was interesting. Could the man tell he had needed him? "I'm hungry. Where can I eat?"

"You could do it in the middle of the floor. No one would care, or notice."

He looked at the throng of undulating bodies. It was probably true. But he still preferred privacy.

"That would not be wise, or preferred."

"There's some back rooms for couples… or orgies. They're supposed to be private rooms for drinking and gettin away from noise, but everyone knows what actually happens in them."

Snape opened his mouth to respond, and then really registered what his thrall had said, and closed it. Orgies. Really? He shook his head. Not something to his liking. Too… public. Risky. He'd most likely never try such a thing, not as long as he needed to hide. "If anyone wants something more… demure than multiple people exchanging bodily fluids on a public floor, send them back. Kissing perhaps that leads to something more. You can surely find someone interested in sharing something more private."

"You got a picture I can show them?"

"No."

"I'm assuming you don't care about gender?"

"As long as they have a heart that is currently working, not particularly."

"Any preferences?"

"I'd prefer if they were clean."

"Clean? Like no drugs? That's gonna be hard to find out."

"Clean, as in not covered in piss, vomit, chicken blood, or spilled drinks. I would appreciate it if they weren't actively high out of their mind as well." Said Snape with an expression of distaste. Drinking from someone who was drunk was one thing, someone who was high was another.

"Oh. Yeah. I can do that. People don't really get high in here. "

Snape nodded and followed Dorfus' directions to a series of doors in a long corridor. It was all painted black and he could smell the sex and hear the moans. Snape rolled his eyes. He'd prefer a clean back alley to the rooms that were surely covered in body fluids. He opened a door that had no sounds emanating from behind it and entered. The room was… surprisingly clean. From what he could smell it had been cleaned recently too. Between uses. He looked at a corner and saw a spray bottle and cloth that sat on a ledge at shoulder height. They smelled of body fluids and muggle cleaning solution. He cast a scourgify on the seat anyway before sitting down.

It was red, a false easily cleaned leather bench attached to the wall. It hugged the corner so a table could jutt out of the opposite wall, except for the end which was cut to allow for a single seat, a rather thick and wide one. There was actually a menu on the table as well. Snape glanced at it and immediately scoffed.

Drinks. Each with appropriately tacky names. The blooded mary. A Bloody Mary with whiskey instead of vodka. The sinking barrel, a beer with a shot of some oddly named liquor sunk in a shot glass at the bottom. All ridiculous. Still he perused the menu with mild interest until he felt a tug on his mind. Panic. Dorfus. The man didn't know where he was. He sent out a feeling of his annoyance that the man hadn't paid attention and opened the door.

Down the hall stood a thin young man sporting a leather jacket and pants far too tight to allow him to ever bear progeny. He wore a spectacular amount of makeup around his eyes that made them look like a sunset every time he blinked. The young man smiled as Dorfus pointed and he quickly approached. He entered and Snape closed the door behind him. They both sat down, Snape on the outer edge of the bench to prevent fleeing. The young man however didn't seem to be uncomfortable with that, or even realize it to be a rather dangerous situation. It seemed no one here was intimidated by him, which was good since he was attempting to not be intimidating for once.

"Dorfus said he brought a friend who was new, and looking for some fun."

Snape smirked and brushed the man's cheek with long fingers. He smelled of apples and smoke. He pushed the man's near copper hair out of the way of his neck, drawing a finger down the soft flesh.

"I am."

The young man sighed and Snape leaned in, his breath teasing the skin and bringing a hitch to his meal's throat. He sent out a faint allure, clouding the young man's senses. He made his way quickly to his neck, but breathed on his jawline to give the sensation of interaction. He breathed a final time on the skin of his neck and then bit down slowly.

Tart apple pie with cinnamon, baked in an old wood stove. Unsweetened whip cream on a winter's day. The young man moaned and reached out for his face, drawing light feather touches down his own moving jawline, he grabbed the hand and held it firmly and set it down. He drank, softly, and the young man pushed against him.

"Oh gods above. I need… I need…" The man was growing hard, Snape didn't much care, except it was a good distraction from what he was doing. He laved the wound with his tongue once, eliciting a gasp and with that distraction bit down harder. His meal moaned and Snape took a moment to slice his pointer finger with his thumbnail. His other hand reached for the young man's, making sure it didn't wander again.

He played with the young man's cheek, traced his lips seemingly absentmindedly with his fingers before sending them in. The young man let him, not seeing the blood with his eyes closed and his free hand down his pants taking up half of his attention. He ignored it, and let him. As long as the young man didn't touch him, he didn't care. He was far too close in age to some of his oldest students. Most likely twenty. Soon the young man was sucking on the wound, and not long after he spilled his completion, much to Snape's annoyance. That meant his meal was over, the heady confusing lust and allure would be much easier to see through after that. He didn't much feel like casting memory charms to fill the young man's mind either, complicated magic that they were. He could obliviate him, but if people had seen the man walk in here and asked him, and he couldn't respond? Not a good situation.

So Snape let go, one last 'kiss' removing all traces of blood. The young man was panting, staring at him.

"I…what… you…" The man was dazed, blood drunk and spent. Snape worked hard to keep the scowl off his face. Hormones and easily pleased youths were ingredients that always made a rather unsatisfying brew in any situation.

"Thank you, you will not remember my face, but I believe you had a good time."

"I… it was amazing. But you didn't-"

"I assure you, I am happy with what I got."

"But how…"

"It is not important. You may leave." The man stood dazedly and shook his head before turning to the door. As the young man left Snape shot an episky at his neck just as the door closed.

Moments later Dorfus entered and looked at Snape.

"More?"

Snape scowled. "Obviously. Someone older this time, who won't cut my meal short with their overactive hormones."

Dorfus nodded. Ten minutes later an older woman came in, dressed in a black leather jacket with brown hair down to her knees. She tasted of fresh fish and allspice and was an artist who painted abstract portraits. Snape declined her offer to paint him, saying he was not going to be around long. He also was not fond of abstract art, it left too much to the imagination and his imagination was not kind. The next, an older man with a mustache and silver hair, tasted of peppermint, and a feeling of cold. He was quite content to just let Snape kiss his neck and they had a wonderful conversation about custom chess pieces, which was what he collected as a hobby. Next was a younger woman, maybe 23, who was squat and heavier set. She tasted of sugar, the sweet saccharine taste of muggle chocolate. He had to hold her hands back multiple times as she tried to touch him. He took much more from her, left her feeling dizzy and faint enough for her not to question his order to go home for the evening.

Dorfus swallowed as he looked in this time. "Uh, Nanni wants to come in."

Snape raised his brow but nodded and Dorfus left, and moments later Nanni entered. She sat down on the seat across from him instead of next to him and Snape raised a brow.

"You said no to a drink, but now enter a place where much more usually happens. I admit to being confused, a state I am not fond of."

She shrugged. "I'm not planning on anything happening. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. You didn't seem the type to come back here and have a go with multiple people."

"I'm trying something new. I find… It is not to my tastes." He didn't mind being brought food, but the setting was a bit too conspicuous, and he was not fond of the casual 'petting' that was expected. He was not a romantic man, or even a casually sensual one. A quick fuck on occasion was acceptable, light touches and kisses seemed far more personal, far too intimate for such situations. He was… uncomfortable with this. He was however hungry, actively hungry, and not going to turn away such easy meals. "I was going to give it one last attempt and then I had matters to attend to with Dorfus."

"Yeah, he's not drinking. I've never seen him not drink for this long." She eyed him curiously.

"Yes well, maybe the threat of liver failure finally gave him pause. Now, why are you really here? You wouldn't have come back just to chat with what you have told me of your husband."

She fidgeted and looked away from him before answering. "I… wanted to make sure you weren't hurting anyone…"

Snape raised a brow. "As in drugging them? I was unaware my skills were equivalent to drugs." He smirked, the truth a bit was not far off. He was in fact drugging them in a way. "Still, what if I was? You came back here by yourself. I find your attempt at heroism poorly planned."

"I… you're not wrong."

Snape looked at the woman, and had an inkling of an idea. "Did you come back here hoping I would-"

Snape paused and heard a scuffle outside the door, Dorfus' protests and a thud. Snape stood and exhaled, knowing his thrall was in pain. Someone had just thrown his thrall to the ground. The door opened and a man stepped through. Heavier, with a belly that spoke of manual labor and beer. He was not handsome, nor extremely muscular, but he was someone who had strength in his arms and hands. He wore black jeans and a red flannel with ripped sleeves. He stepped into the room and glared at both of them, Snape returned the look.

"Did you just throw my assistant to the ground?"

"What are you doin in here Nanni? Who the bloody hell is this?"

Snape scowled at being ignored, but let Nanni answer.

"Just a bloke who some of my friends had come seen. I wanted to make sure he wasn't mistreatin them."

"And you didn't think to tell me? You could have been hurt!"

"But I wasn't."

"But you could have been!"

Nanni pouted. "Yes, he said as much."

At this point the man finally looked at Snape who just raised a brow. He was torn. This was none of his business, he didn't particularly care in fact, however… A woman who wanted to escape and a man whom no one would miss? If he could manipulate the situation to not cause a commotion this could be very satisfying. Very satisfying indeed.

The man looked at him, up and down in his odd clothing, and sneered. "This guy? Scrawny little dude. You think he might have been drugging your friends?"

"Well, not anymore Mark. There aren't any cups, no one left with any either."

It was Nanni who was ignored this time. "You been hurting people?" Asked the man accusingly.

Snape sneered back at the man. "Here, tonight? Not yet. You Americans are so… hot blooded. Your wife made it clear to me she was married and had no interest in my friendship or anything otherwise. In fact, she turned down a platonic offer for fear of your reaction. I am not the one who knocked someone down tonight."

"Stefan, don't antag-"

"You know his name! You been lyin?"

"No! Mark, stop it! I literally met the man tonight!"

But Mark wasn't listening, he had leaned back to gain momentum for what was obviously going to be a punch to Snape's head. Snape stepped to the side and the punch hit the wall as Mark stumbled forward with the momentum. The man yowled as the skin was scraped from his fingers and Nanni jumped up in concern. Snape watched as she stood up and went over to her husband, obviously worried. Well there was one person who cared about the man. Which meant he'd have to kill them both, and then there would be two disappearances from a place he had frequented for the first time. No, it was too much.

"I think it's time for me to leave you two to figure out some things. Dorfus!" The man had picked himself up and was waiting outside.

"Yes m… Yes?"

"Let's go. I get the distinct impression that I'm not welcome here." He left the room and Dorfus followed, clutching his left hand. They made their way through the crowds, who hadn't noticed a thing through the loud music, and quickly exited. They walked for a few blocks before he ducked into an alley, pulling Dorfus behind him when he paused at the entrance.

The man cried out and Snape looked down. There was blood on his hand. He looked at his thrall's hand, a deep cut on the thumb, most likely from a loose nail when he fell. He took out his wand and a quick healing spell closed it, followed by some cleaning charms to get rid of the coagulating blood.

"Wow… that's…"

"Magic. I mentioned I was a wizard I believe. Take my hand. We are going back to Cokeworth." He grabbed Dorfus' hand before he could voice further amazement and as soon as the man grasped it back he apparated.

They appeared in another alley, the one where he had met Dorfus that evening. The man stumbled forward a bit as Snape let go, and Snape waited for him to regain equilibrium. As soon as he did Snape started talking, not interested in the myriad of questions he could see in his thrall's eyes.

"Your house, take me to it. If I need to find you I want to know where to look."

Dorfus nodded and headed out. They walked for about 15 minutes, Snape having to slow his gait to match that of the shorter man's. Finally amidst another row of unremarkable houses Dorfus voiced a question.

"So… did you get enough… food…?"

"You may call me Stefan in public, when we are in your house you may call me Severus. And what I got was adequate, you …did well." He offered the praise slowly. He didn't like doing it, but the man needed to know that Snape approved of the choices he had made so he could do them again. He stole a quick glance downward. His thrall looked far too happy at the praise for his comfort.

"Oh good, I'm glad. But… adequate?"

"I was hoping for one more."

"How… how much do you need a night?"

Snape paused. He… actually had no idea. He knew what he needed minimally to not go insane and feel constantly hungry, near starvation. A few mouthfuls or so every other day, of course he had been addicted at the time. To be… content and something resembling healthy? He had no clue. The two vials a day Dumbledore had given him had been… comfortable. Not pleasant though. What would he want? Well, a full meal once a week would be nice. So divided…

"Just under two pints a night would be adequate. Ideally three or four. In a perfect world, twelve."

"Isn't that a full-"

"Yes."

The man looked decidedly unnerved at that. "H-How much can you eat?"

"I am limited only by what is available. Now-"

"Wait so, if I had kept bringing you-"

Snape scowled and glared at the man. "I would not stop. Do not interrupt me. Are we almost there?"

"Y-yes. Just two more houses." Said the man before settling into a quiet state of distress.

They stopped in front of a house like all the others, and Dorfus opened the door with shaking hands. Strangely, there was no barrier here, perhaps because the man was, in terms of the curse at least, his. How interesting… and disturbing. Snape stepped inside and looked around. The man had done little with the house, except cover it in bottles.

"Is the basement habitable?"

"It's got space… Do you need a space to stay?"

"Not currently. Perhaps not ever, but I would appreciate something resembling a desk and a place to sit down there."

"Not a bed?"

"It is unnecessary, I do not strictly require sleep."

"But it would be nice?"

Snape looked down at the man, eager to please, and held back a sneer. "Yes." He headed toward the basement and opened the door. He needed to see it to be able to apparate to it, and he would prefer appearing down there in the dark sunless room in case the man had company. He walked down the steps that were identical to the ones in his house and looked around. A few cardboard boxes lay scattered about, but little else. It would do. He looked back up the stairs at his thrall who was watching him and wringing his hands. He looked too much like Pettigrew did from their encounters before he was exploded by Black.

"Cease wringing your hands immediately." He did, and swallowed, Snape nodded. "Is there anything in these boxes of import?"

"Not really-"

Snape didn't wait for the man to continue but started transfiguring the boxes into furniture. A desk, a chair, a reading armchair, a bed, a… scream. Snape looked up at Dorfus who had his hand over his heart and a pained look on his face.

"Yes?"

"That box… it.. Parents… ashes." Snape raised a brow. That the man had his parents ashes in a box in his basement said something. He didn't know what exactly yet, but it was something. He canceled the transfiguration and then levitated the box to Dorfus.

"I'm not sharing a room with your dead ancestors, no matter how little I will be here. Put them elsewhere."

Dorfus grabbed the box and hurried away while Snape transfigured the last box and its contents of papers into a bed and mattress. No sheets or pillow in case someone else stopped by. How the items were now just made it look like they were here for safekeeping, a fully made bed would be conspicuous. He checked his work. None of the items were particularly beautiful or detailed. He was a utilitarian caster and had never really put the effort into learning the intricacies of transfiguration beyond what would let him do what he needed. It didn't come as naturally as other magic did to him, but he found his work acceptable.

He smirked. McGonagall had found it as such as well, if he remembered his grades. She had always expected more from him, most likely because she knew he wasn't putting as much effort into it as he did his other classes. Not that he didn't try his hardest, but he didn't try to create spells, or understand the theory or reasons behind transfiguration except what was assigned. He did not go above and beyond as he did with potions or DADA or even Charms, the theory behind which was needed to create many of the spells he wanted to. Oh well, he had done much worse to disappoint her later, it hardly mattered now. He nodded and left for the upstairs.

While his thrall figured out where to put his departed parents, Snape looked around the house. Few pictures hung anywhere, the ones there were obviously remnants from the man's forebearers. They had probably died and left him the house. It was what most did in the town. The sitting room had a surprising amount of books. Not comparable to his own, but quite a few. Snape looked at the titles. Classical literature, plays, poetry, history. Those made up the bulk of the books. A small section containing fantasy stood apart, and those books looked far more worn, and more recent.

He went upstairs. The rooms up here were mostly empty. Two bedrooms, an office. The office was what was interesting. Filled with clocks, watches, and various timepieces. This was the one room free of bottles, free of dust too. Immaculately laid out with tools in a line and a watch in the center of a desk that was very well lit.

"There you are. Oh… Uh, master-"

Snape swallowed at the word, but let it slide for now. "You work with timepieces?"

"Yeah. Always loved clocks. Wish I could fix em full time, but not enough money to set up a shop front."

"What is it you do then, on the day to day, besides drink to excess?"

"I work at a nearby plant, the intake of materials and where they go. Inventory management."

"Ah. You will reduce your drinking, as previously mentioned. No drinks every other day."

"But-"

"No buts. If I come here needing assistance I want you something resembling easy to sober up. I'm not wasting potions on you."

"Potions?"

"Yes, potions. It should not be so surprising considering you've just met a vampiric wizard and become his thrall in less than 6 hours."

"Become his what?"

Snape sneered. "What? You didn't question why you let me into your house, got people for me to eat, and drank my blood?"

"Not really…"

Snape stared and narrowed his eyes at the man who squirmed under his gaze. "Are you always this uninhibited when inebriated?"

"Oh… sometimes? Punched a bobbie last week…"

Snape sighed. Dear Merlin he felt like he was back at school dealing out detentions. "I forbid you from getting into altercations with law enforcement. No getting black out drunk either."

Dorfus looked a bit uncertain at that. Snape didn't want the man to go insane, addiction warring with his commands. He wasn't sure it was possible, but undue duress was most likely not a good idea. He might as well profit off the man's addiction.

"Not unless I'm here." He added.

Dorfus looked up at that and nodded. "How do I contact you?"

"You don't. I come to you."

"Uhmmm… Could you come by in two weeks? Friday?"

His curiosity won over his annoyance at the request. "Why?"

"Because there is a quarterly meeting with management then, and I always get black out drunk after."

That was understandable. He'd been at many faculty meetings that made him wish he could get drunk during them, let alone after them. He checked the date mentally… There were no faculty meetings planned. He patrolled that Thursday. He should be free if he was back at Hogwarts by then. If he wasn't, then it wasn't a concern, he'd be free. Snape nodded. Two weeks time, Friday. His thrall was going to get drunk, and he was going to get drunk by proxy. All he needed was a blood replenishing potion, just in case.

"Very well. I will arrive at… 8PM. My own affairs should be done by then."

"I'll be drunk by then."

"I do not want to arrive to find you in a puddle of your own vomit."

"You won't."

"Make sure of it."

"Uh before you go, will I see you before then?"

"You will not see me for at least three days."

"Why?"

"Because that is how long it takes to recover what I ate and then some." Snape said with a smirk hoping to get a flinch out of the man and remind him that he should be afraid. He instead apparated away leaving his thrall with a disturbingly conflicted look on his face.