Snape woke stiff and dazed. He sat completely still, moving his eyes underneath his lids instead of blinking and keeping his body relaxed as though he were still unconscious. He quickly took note of his surroundings using his other senses.

He was tied to a chair, with chains. He was fairly certain they weren't purely silver, most likely iron, the lack of pain told him that much; but he couldn't be sure without changing into mist...or flexing... Which might alert his captor. Silently he snarled.

McGonagall. The crafty cat. He had been mentally prepared for this. Half of him had hoped for his failure, but the other part had sorely wanted to succeed. Still, he was here now and could only move forward. Occupy his time until his next chance or he found freedom from his addiction.

He checked his possessions next. His locket, which contained a very specific liquid that had three uses depending on how taken, was gone. Its weight upon his chest was decidedly absent. The potions he carried with him in his robes at all times, the empty vials, and the syringes, were all gone as well.

In fact his robe was entirely gone. He was wearing his suit. He couldn't hide any actions underneath a suit, not even knee movement or flexing, which he might have used to loosen his bonds. Even the flat medallion he kept underneath the skin on his left arm, the one which gave his body a pulse and heartbeat even without blood, was gone. Its counterpart which gave him mild protection from the sun and allowed him to eat food that didn't contain blood was also gone. Severus cursed mentally.

The cat was good. She had been a spy for the Ministry after all, however he'd never given her this much credit. He was very thankful he had decided to leave his wand hidden in his room. It'd been a tough decision and he felt truly odd without it, but it meant the cat didn't have it and on the off chance he escaped— he stopped that line of thought. No. He was here for everyone else's safety. Here he did not have to worry about… enjoying himself, or losing himself. He could just be, just do what he had been trained to do. Not worry about keeping up the mask that he was just another professor. So…

He began to take note of surroundings. He listened.

Nothing. No Heartbeats. No noise from children. Nothing. No clues as to where he was, which in itself was a clue, but it also meant he was alone.

He opened his eyes. The room was pitch black, which was fine with him.

There was a chair across from him, a good 10 feet out of reach, with a table covered in metal vials, and some potions he couldn't make out inside black opaque containers. Behind that was a door, the entrance. Above it hung a wreath of wolfsbane, Hawthorne, and various religious symbols, at which he sneered openly. There are two beds on opposite sides of the room. One with chains and no covers, the other reeked of garlic with a smaller cat bed beside it and a bedside table with various amenities. There was a metal chest in the corner, with no key hole, but it was most likely tightly locked. Above the chest was some sort of oval, a mirror probably. With no light it was hard to tell. He turned his head very slightly so as not to activate any weight shifting charms, and looked behind him.

Against the far wall were two more sets of chains, above which hung various metal and wooden rods at least 10 feet in length. Some of the wood ones had points.

The only area which was concealed was a small room, next to the wall of vampiric hell, but the walls there did not touch the ground, and he could see the slight shape of the bottom of a sink and toilet. He could also see chains on the floor in there as well.

Every single piece of metal had to be either silver, iron, or some combination thereof. The silver would be for pain and to hold him. There was no way the iron would be pure, there had to be bits of silver. Otherwise he would be able to turn into a fine mist. Surely his enemy wouldn't be that ill informed. He contemplated nothingness and calm, but found his form firmly solid. He sighed mentally, he had seen her with the books after all.

He had no other options so Snape strained finally. Testing his confinement. The chair was welded to the floor. There came a faint sound from the doorway, and Snape swung his gaze toward it. As he did his damp hair hit his face. He had been washed. Without his special lotions or conditioners, he would not be protected from sunlight, nor would he shed a reflection in the silver backed mirrors. He glanced at the opaque bottles again, bottled sunlight. He cursed. The clear ones would probably contain spring water from the spring blessed by Merlin.

The sound was turning into footsteps. Snape quickly let himself go limp as the door opened.

With a flick McGonagall lit the torches in the room.

"Don't even bother Severus. The chair has a weight charm on it, I was alerted when you moved."

Snape cursed mentally again and sat up. "And what, pray tell, is this?"

"Detox, as the muggles call it."

"That will take weeks, I am sure I will be missed."

With a flick a paper appeared in Mcgonagal's hand. Snape peered at it, quickly recognizing the form and nodded, trying not to look impressed.

"And the child who needed his allergy charms from Saint Mungo's?"

"Got his shots on time, you'd have seen him in class tomorrow if you were there. He was an excuse to obtain your signature for a leave of absence paper. "

"Which I'm sure you're personally giving to Dumbledore?"

"Oh goodness no." With a flick of her wand the paper vanished. "It is on his desk."

Snape mentally cursed again. Dumbledore would know something was amiss if he didn't deliver the paper himself, but it just appearing on his desk was something Dumbledore wouldn't question. Of course, Dumbledore, the brilliant old manipulator, would probably not intervene if Minerva handed it to him. He'd guess in a moment what was going on. Snape sighed inwardly. He might know already. Snape didn't want that, didn't want his friend to guess he had fallen so low. The fact that he had not sensed the old cat's duplicity when she handed him the paper was a testament to how distracted he had become, his training should have given him some slight alert. Still, he was grateful she had not alerted Dumbledore, even if that deprived him of a chance for escape.

"Thank you."

Minerva nodded and sat down across from him. Hands folded in her lap, lips thin as she looked at him.

"So what were you going to do with my body?"

Severus mentally started. He had never seen the old witch so bold. For her to ask that was quite a surprise. Minerva was always no nonsense, but to just start with such a disturbing question was a trifle astonishing.

"I…. had a number of options, upon which I had not decided."

]Minerva merely sat and waited for him to continue.

He decidedly did not wish to. Not only because it was awkward, but because there was still a very slight chance he could pull it off. He made a show of looking around instead. "So I am in your chamber?"

"Yes, my Untraceable Chamber." Only members of the Order, and Minerva, had access to these chambers. A counterpart to the room of requirement, these rooms required a password and were far less easily accessed. Each person had their own private room which responded to their needs. Multiple saferooms or interrogation chambers could be in use at once, and be kept secret and secure if there was betrayal.

"I suppose this might have been where you would have taken me, had you decided to keep me alive?" McGonagall pursed her lips in distaste.

Snape sneered cruelly in affirmation. "Or dead. All that good meat going to waste."

Snape was rewarded with a very slight shudder from the witch; good he was upsetting her. She might make a mistake with tempers raised. He quickly decided to continue this line of torture. "I ran out of my last supply quite a while ago. There was more than enough space again, and the room felt so empty. Ivan was so small after all." Not an outright lie. But the implication that he had eaten the boy's corpse was just that, an implication. He had traded the cadaver to the merpeople, slowly, for various herbs that grew in the lake.

McGonagall's scowl deepened, but his comment did not elicit the expected reaction.

"Dumbledore told me, it was a matter for the Order. I did not agree with his solution, but I see you quite enjoyed it."

Snape was never one to give up easily, and with his prey so close, this game of literal cat and mouse was almost as addictive as her blood.

"It was quite enjoyable. That impetuous boy attempted to fight me. I had to pursue him around my quarters. He was so soaked with sweat and fear…pray tell, what do you find amusing?"

McGonagall was sitting there with a blank expression, but having had this much of her blood Snape was becoming aware of even the slightest shift in her moods. It hadn't helped his initial attack, what with her being asleep, but it might help him here.

"Firstly, I am a chess master, do you think I don't know when I am playing a game of proverbial chess, Severus?"

Snape almost returned the smile, he didn't doubt it. It was the factor that made this situation so diverting. It was enticing, and energizing, it made his appetite spike and his blood run cool and cold as he calculated and considered. The fact that this woman dared made him furious, and somewhat excited. He might actually have a worthy opponent. That was what he had hoped for after all; to be caught so the number of people in danger went down to two.

"Secondly, I was a spy for the Ministry, do you think I am so cold and so old that I never enjoyed a chase? My animagus is a cat for a reason, Severus." Minerva said with a slight smirk and a tilt of her head.

Snape had to think upon that. A person's animagus reflected who they were. He scowled, he knew that from experience with… he stopped the thought in its tracks. He had never pondered why this professor's animagus was a cat.

McGonagall allowed herself a very small smile. "Do you really think the entire castle was kept mouse free by one cat?"

Snape had to sneer at that. McGonagall hunting mice? He doubted it. Apparently his doubt showed because the professor across from him pursed her lips. His pawn had just taken her rook. The room was silent, neither wanting to lose ground.

McGonagall flicked her wand once, canceling something, then once again at the wall, and waited. The spell seemingly did nothing. They sat silently in stalemate.

Both players perked up suddenly at a tiny skittering sound, McGonagall drew her wand and with a flash jumped into the air, landing in the corner as a cat. She walked smoothly back to their chairs, in a slow saunter of success.

Snape looked over at the corner and could clearly see a mouse. Dead. Its neck surely broken from a quick smack of a paw and an impact with the wall, there was no scent of blood in the air after all. The cat looked at Snape and flicked its tail slowly, wiping a paw on the floor.

Snape sneered further. "Eat it. A hunt isn't complete until prey has been consumed."

McGonagall tightened her whiskers in disgust as she sat back in her seat, human before her paws touched the wood.

His rook had just taken her bishop. He was winning.

"I just ate. Why don't you?" She said levitating the mouse.

"You took my charm that allowed me to eat solid food."

McGonagall tossed the mouse into the corner with a flick of the wrist, then, with another far more complex wave, reinstated whatever spell she had cancelled previously. Most likely the one to hide the room from the rest of the castle. "Besides, that is hardly an aperitif, I prefer larger prey…." Snape decided it was time to use his bishop, his opponent on the defensive. "Like Mr. Banderknott."

At this McGonagall stood up immediately, her chair falling over in her haste.

"You did not." She whispered.

Snape sneered. "The boy was terrified , weeping on the floor, arm gashed open by the sword he'd been pushed into by a fatuous bully. It was so simple to-"

McGonagall slashed her wand through the air and the clink from the far wall which reverberated through the room was the only warning. The chains there came to life and snaked toward Snape, locks clicking and links clanking as the manacles closed around his wrists and ankles. As they did so, the chair in the center quickly melted away along with the manacles there. Snape gasped as the new, higher ratio of silver to iron in the chains cut through his socks and sleeves. The sound and scent of sizzling flesh filled the room. With a whooshing sound the chains retracted towards the wall, pulling the stunned professor with them. With a grunt he slammed against the stone, tongue and cheek caught between his teeth. He saw stars briefly, but continued his taunts.

"Has the pussy cat lost her temper?" He quipped as McGonagall stood furiously, to tower over the chained vampire.

"A student, Severus, how could you?!"

"With relish, I assure you." The Potions Master said before coughing.

He spat a bit of blood onto the ground as he thought. This was not a good situation. He had wanted her close but now he was too restrained to act. He needed to change tactics but it was difficult to think. His head was pounding, and the heartbeat across the room was maddening. His stomach was aching and his skin was sizzling. Severus prided himself on his acting, it was time to put it into full use, under duress. He leered at the woman in front of him, then let his expression falter before letting it go and hanging his head for a long moment. He pulled against the chains fitfully, and then let his arms fall. He attempted some subtle wandless magic to banish the chains; it of course did not take, he had not expected it to, but had to at least try on the off chance the witch had forgotten. This would have been a perfect chance to lunge at her. Now though, he took a deep breath and presented his charade.

He looked up at his supposed friend and captor, putting on a mask of exhaustion barely covered by desperation, both of which he conjured easily because they were in some part real. "You've never been starving Minerva, you don't know what it's like."

McGonagall frowned, there was no way this wasn't at least partially an act. The man was a Death Eater, and a spy, he would never break this easily. In most situations it would mean death. Unless he was truly that starving. She pondered, the lines of her face still disapproving. Suddenly her face went blank, and Snape could nearly hear the mental click. She had decided upon her next move, and was going to go through with it with complete confidence. If it was a foolish move that would be fortunate for him, but if it wasn't, which was far more likely, he could very well be drawn into a trap… He waited, lips pursed and eyes hungry with hate. What would she say, do, what was her plan?

However McGonagall was just as silent as her face was hard. She flicked her wand at the back of her hand and a gash appeared.

Snape's eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the smell. It took all his willpower to do no more than that, but even so his eyes tinged with red.

"This is what you want, correct Severus?"

The professor didn't answer, he just watched as a thin drop fell to the stone floor, and another, a small echoing beat filled the room. He scowled. A waste.

Suddenly had him in check.

"Severus!"

"Yes, Minerva?" He answered as though they were merely talking over lunch, in the great hall.

"I have been starving. I have eaten mice. I have hunted and killed. How do you think I survived when spying during He Who Must Not Be Named's reign? As a cat. I couldn't break character and risk being seen by your former lot. They would have killed me far more cruelly than anything you have planned, I'm sure. I was a spy for the ministry during the first war, I worked with the Order back then, you know that."

Snape looked up at this, into her eyes. Something had changed. Her face was harder than normal.

"I have all the experience that comes with that. And more. Now tell me." She flicked her bleeding hand at the professor, spattering blood across the ground in front of him, just out of reach.

Snape managed to stay calm, and didn't move. He had one bargaining chip, information. But he was unwilling to give that information up… at least all of it.

"What would you have done with me?"

"If you had survived the night you mean?" He said with a satisfied smirk. "I will tell you one of my ideas in exchange for…" how could he put this to make her as uncomfortable as possible, put her off balance…. "a taste."

McGonagall didn't even flinch, she just flicked her hand again and spattered a bit of blood on her prisoner's face.

"There, a taste, though you are hardly in a position to bargain Mr. Snape."

Snape scowled. This was not what he wanted, he wanted a vial, for now. He wanted more than that of course, the darkest parts of him mainly wanted to be in opposite positions, while he mainly wanted to be back in his quarters, with everything the way it had been before the stupid dolt of a student, Ivan, brewed that cursed potion. He frowned. But then, he would have never gotten to taste this. He wanted to lick at a drop on his cheek, but knew he couldn't reach it, and there was no way he'd act so crass, or show such weakness. He pursed his lips instead.

The smell was almost driving him to distraction. He heard a flick of a wand and the chains loosened around his hands slightly. He glared at his captor, as she stood there watching his struggle. What he considered his private moments, his 'affliction', and once again his darker side that swam in the red mist around his mind won. With long fingers he dexterously wiped the splatter on his cheek and slowly licked his finger. Perhaps it would unsettle her.

"I suppose I might have obliviated you, healed your wound, and left, but I find that an unlikely outcome."

McGonagall raised a single brow.

"And pray tell, why is that?"

"Why do you even wish to burden your mind with my plans? Do you really want to know what your friend, and colleague, is capable of?"

"Of course not, but in order for it to never come to pass I need to know what 'it' is. So, if you wish to eat tonight," she flicked her hand at the professor again, "actually have a meal, you will tell me all of your so-called ideas."

Snape's mind raced, she wouldn't know if he had told her all of his ideas, he had many, he would tell her a few and keep one for himself. He grinned mentally, but outwardly he snarled as if in defeat. "How much?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"How much do you consider a meal? A sip? A vial? A pint?" As if on cue Snape's stomach began aching in earnest and his veins itched, he felt empty.

McGonagall frowned. She didn't actually know what a meal would consist of. A sip or two a week allowed her friend to survive, but a meal?

Snape curled his lip slightly in triumph, she had chosen her words poorly and it was going to cost her. She held up an empty vial.

"A meal is what I decide tonight."

Severus sneered. Pushing his luck here, bargaining, couldn't hurt. The worst she could do was give nothing and receive nothing in return. If she wanted information he would at least get a sip, but he wanted more.

"Considering that the last time I was awake I was about to enjoy a feast, a vial does not seem comparable. I would give you perhaps one of my plans for that."

McGonagall frowned. This was where the real chess match finally began. She would have to be careful, if she revealed her whole hand too quickly... "A vial and a half then." She said, ignoring his feast comment.

Snape scoffed. She was willing to play the game to the end, it seemed. He shook his head then looked at the pitcher near the wash basin and inclined his head towards it.

"Absolutely not!" She exclaimed in horror.

"Two vials will get you very little from me. It will just whet my appetite."

McGonagall looked around the room and picked up one of the opaque bottles. Snape twitched and McGonagall smiled ever so slightly.

"Don't worry, this one is empty. Would this do?"

Snape looked at the bottle, it was a good size, about a full 3 cups. His gums itched at the thought of that much food. He nodded and sat down on the floor, too hungry to bargain any more. McGonagall set the bottle down and then picked up her knocked over chair. She sat down as well, her posture perfect, and her gaze piercing.

"You will talk first, and obtain food after."

Snape grumbled quietly, a near growl, but nodded again. He could wait. He pulled at his beard lightly and a small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he looked up, almost as if reminiscing.

"If you had died I would have most likely done what I said and taken your body to my untraceable room, or given it to the squid in the lake."

McGonagall frowned.

"What? Too much information, can't stand the thought of being cooked like a steak?" Jeered Snape.

McGonagall shook her head, "I highly doubt you would have cooked anything," she said detachedly, as if they weren't talking about her at all. The cold look on her face remained unchanged. "In fact I far prefer that to being fed to the squid. If you ever do best me, I'd far prefer being immolated or eaten to that."

Severus was a bit surprised. "Are you critiquing my method of murder and disposal of your corpse?"

"Yes, I am!" McGonagall snapped. "The giant squid? Really? You didn't think it through at all, did you Severus? The squid never eats people, only fish. I'd prefer my body not be fished out of the lake as a bloated mess."

"So you'd prefer I eat you?" queried the Potions Professor.

"I'd prefer not to be eaten at all!" quipped the Transfigurations Professor. "Now please, do continue with your fascinating diatribe, before I lose the ability to eat my own dinner tonight!"

Snape snorted derisively. "If you had survived, I would probably have taken you to my Untraceable Room as well. I'd ruin your room, or leave a note, and most probably I'd have broken your wand in two."

McGonagall blanched at that. It was the most horrendous crime to break another wizard's wand. "You wouldn't dare!"

"And what use would you have for it? More importantly what would I gain from you having it? No. Over the next week I'd savor a meal each night, until you were no more."

"I find that unlikely." McGonagall pursed her lips. "You are far too practical to lose a good source of food. What would you have really done?"

Snape painted a startled look in his face, as if that was all he was going to tell her. He looked longingly at the soon to be filled bottle, then snarled, before continuing.

"I'd have filled you with nutritional potions mixed with draught of living death and blood replenishers until either I found another way to obtain food or I grew tired of you. At which point I would most happily devour you." Snape spat on the ground angrily. "Although, now after what you have done here, I doubt I would have let you last more than a week."

The witch ignored him. "What else?"

Snape snarled again. "If I decided not to destroy your wand, I would look for an alternate source of food, and upon success, obliviate you." McGonagall sat silently as Snape frowned. "But before letting you go, I'd most likely create stores of your blood. Possibly charm a vial of blood replenisher to exchange places with your blood as needed. Those are all the ideas I had. I have nothing more." He scowled, as if beaten, then glanced at his captor expectantly. "Now, if you would be so kind as to uphold your end of the deal?"

McGonagall nodded and with a flick summoned her blood, directing it into the bottle. The stream of red twisted through the air in a mesmerizingly tantalizing dance. She waved her wand, weaving a silent spell as the end of the red liquid ribbon fell into the bottle and almost overflowed. Snape snarled as a good tablespoon seeped down the side when she corked it. After healing her cut hand she tossed the bottle across to her prisoner and sat back down.

Snape grabbed it, clutching it tightly to his chest, before glaring at his captor.

"Some privacy?"

"You're eating dinner, we've eaten next to each other for years."

"This is a bit more ...personal." Snape glowered, he still had his pride, and was still an intensely private man.

The ideas he had shared were ones he had considered, and thrown out. He couldn't remember why or when, but he had the one he really wanted locked in his mind. He had not shared anything of import so far, and he did not intend to tonight, or to eat in front of his colleague.

McGonagall merely shook her head. He glared daggers at the woman but she remained unmoved. Resigned, Snape uncorked the bottle and held it over his mouth unceremoniously in an attempt to make sure she never wished to watch him eat again. The blood poured down his throat and he brought it closer to his lips. Snape relaxed as he ate; the aching, itching, and pain abating. His visage changing, the potion of removal enchanted with the charm of choice reacted to how he felt, let him remove the features at will as long as he concentrated, even slightly, on keeping them away constantly.

Right now, he was fine with showing the cat what she was dealing with. Most of it anyway. He was sure she had heard rumors, but you could never tell with children, things were always exaggerated. He had heard one say his entire mouth was full of dagger-like teeth. He wouldn't have been able to talk if that were true.

His nails burst through his shoes, grew long and sharp from his fingers. His ears became slightly pointed and his skin paled further as he downed the bottle.

Only when he was done did he breathe in and notice a strange taste. He scrambled to his feet in shokat what was happening. But, the lingering flavor on his tongue didn't lie. The bottle fell, but the shatter of fallen glass was ignored as he stared at his friend, ally, prey, and captor. She had remained impassive, barely interested in the new features he displayed. Apparently, she had been informed by the Headmaster. That was not his foremost concern right now.

"You duplicitous sneaky bitch."

McGonagall just looked at him, the insult decidedly ignored. Her plan executed, she now allowed emotion back into her face, mostly curiosity.

"What have you done to me?"

"You're the Potions Master Severus, you tell me."

Snape rolled his tongue around his mouth. Honey. He tasted the faintest hint of honey. It was a recent, and some claimed revolutionary, addition to the potion; it increased its potency and shelf life by a factor of at least 6.75%. The flavor would be barely detectable to most, but amidst blood and to his trained tongue it was as clear as day. His stomach sunk and he glared at Minerva with unbridled hatred.

She was unmoved. "Now, Severus, tell me what you would have actually done?"

Snape seethed, but he found himself answering. He was not prepared to fight this, if he'd had just a bit of time to prepare he could twist his words. He started to occlude, but it was too little too late.

"I would have forced my blood down your throat. I would have put so much of my blood into your veins that when I told you to open the door in the middle of the night you couldn't refuse. I would have made you into my thrall, unable to tell anyone, unable to remember if I wanted." He spat out the words angrily.

His last plan. The best one. He snarled, but found himself continuing with plans he had barely thought through himself, yet. He tried to bite his tongue but the words fell out anyway, traitors every one.

"And perhaps a long time from now I would have had you bring other teachers to tea, as you are known to do. A vial of my blood would not be noticeable through your preferred black brew. Little by little, subverting the faculty…until..."

McGonagall interrupted. "And the children, the school?"

Severus glowered, insulted. He thought she knew him better. Perhaps she did, but didn't trust his control. Snape was sickened, briefly, that she was right. Normally he would never have considered attacking a fellow professor, but that heartbeat, that pull, the itching! It was as damnably constant as the gnawing hunger in his gut, and the red fog made him want to… However if it was a choice between dealing with that or hunger that could be pointed at anyone, including the children, he'd rather deal with the prior. Every time.

He looked at his captor with disgust. He may go after witches and wizards, people capable of defending themselves, but to kill a student? Feed on them regularly when there was another option, any other option, that wouldn't betray his secret? Ivan was the exception to the rule. He wasn't a student, he was a threat, according to Dumbledore. No, he wouldn't touch the students if he could help it.

So this answer, this he gave willingly.

"Untouched. The school would continue as normal; teaching is something I actually enjoy on occasion. And why should I alienate those who feed me by depriving them of their joy? Why would I want the students when I had other, far more satisfying, sources."

"Until…?"

Snape sneered again, hoping she was losing interest, to make such a mistake, and not back tracking.

"Forever means forever, or at least until my immortal life span betrays me. Or the faculty grows old and close to death. Upon which point I might hasten their ends, should they wish. I would eventually leave and Obliviate the ones who knew. Although I might take you with me." He glanced at her hoping for a reaction, but the curiosity on her face remained unchanged by the comment.

McGonagall took a deep breath, absorbing this as Snape did. These were things he had mused upon dreamily, when hungry, but he had not realized how much he intended to go through with them. Perhaps when he was less hungry, in a less agitated state, he would not consider such things. Right now in this current state of mind, though, with his addiction clawing at him and the red mist twisting his thoughts. He cursed his tongue, for it would not seem to stop talking.

"No, I mean before when I interrupted you, you said until. Until what?"

Snape tensed. This was what he dreaded sharing, above all else. He closed his mouth, but found words slipping out regardless.

"Until I had grown enough in power to….reach a goal." Snape breathed out, he had managed to sidestep. Just for a moment, but if he could start occluding, focusing he-

"And what is your goal?"

Time, he needed time. The question wasn't specific enough, he could sidestep again.

"To protect Hogwarts."

Minerva sighed. "Are you really going to make me speak as though I were going over explicit instructions?"

"Yes!" He yelled before glaring daggers at her, his response filled with loathing. "I will fight you for every inch Minerva. These are my private thoughts and goals, dare I say fantasies. Ones I had not really considered a possibility until that blasted potion exploded. So. Yes. Every. Inch." Minerva sat up, pushed her glasses up her nose, and held her wand tightly in her lap. They were both thinking about how to word things. Whoever was a better wordsmith would have the advantage here. Snape had a feeling it was him, on a normal day. Today was not a normal day. Today was not even a good day.

While she sat he focused on occluding his mind, focused on alternative answers he could give for the questions he knew were coming. Metaphors he could speak in. Anything to make-

"Very well. Who or what would you want to reach once you felt powerful enough?"

Snape had an answer. "The Dark Lord and- " He was cut off by the shaking of her head.

"And who or what would you want to reach in this castle once you felt powerful enough?"

"Bollocks." He glared at the woman he considered his colleague, maybe even his friend. That she would stoop so low as this. This was an underhanded tactic, of course it was what he would have done. He had never expected such from her though, he had to respect her for that at least, a little. He exhaled the air in his lungs in an angry huff and then took a slow breath to steady himself. He couldn't figure out how not to answer, but answering might give him time to hide the rest of his plans from his tongue. Somehow.

"Dumbledore. To reach Dumbledore."

McGonagall stood up, wand at the ready. She was deeply protective of the headmaster. As was he, in his own way. "To kill him?"

Snape looked affronted, genuinely insulted that she would suggest such a thing. This was another question he'd gladly answer.

"Not any time soon, if I could help it. What a waste of…" Snape's opinion of the man was muddled enough that he found himself able to remain quiet, but that was telling in and of itself.

McGonagall relaxed and sat down. Her eyes were pensive, full of curiosity, but also trepidation.

Did she really want to know what his plans were? She blinked. She did, if only to protect the headmaster; although she doubted it would be necessary.

"Then, to what end?"

Snape paused, he had to answer, but he had to be careful with his wording here. If he was obviously against or for any side it could ruin his position as a spy. The doubt both sides had in his alliance was a tool he could use. He preferred not to say anything at all. He would attempt to fight it, spin the words, but the potion was one of the most potent in the world. It had won awards.

"To have dinner with him. To be able to cross wands well enough to make him listen to my concerns and truly give them the due consideration I believe they de-" McGonagall raised her wand and Severus stopped talking.

"Severus, you're very skilled, no doubt you've practiced lying through magical effects." Snape sneered at her skirting of his torture, usually the woman was quite forthrite. Perhaps this situation caused her discomfort in its possible similarity to what he endured from their enemy. Still, if it did, it hadn't stopped her from going through with it. Gryffindor that she was, perhaps she considered herself brave for stomaching what she was doing to her friend. Perhaps she actually was.

Minerva continued her accusations undeterred by the searching eyes of the master spy. "However, what you have practiced lying about: the Order, plans, your allegiance, are not quite as personal. And you were not starving or dealing with addiction at the time, I presume?"

Snape didn't show any reaction, he just sat and listened, content to let her waste time.

She continued. "Well, I'm sorry Severus but it's quite obvious you're evading. If you continue this I will have to make you stop."

At this an amused expression crossed Snape's face. Minerva, torture? Perhaps. Torture succesfully? He highly doubted that. She was too 'good'.

"You? Make me stop obfuscating? Minerva, even if you were prepared to use a Cruciatus on me, which I highly doubt you are, do you really think that you could muster any reaction from me other than silence?"

A quiet satisfaction filled the room, along with Snape's burgeoning uncertainty. What in the world could be causing the old cat such mirth?

"No Severus, I don't think I could. I'm not going to even try. I believe the method used at the ministry with children will be far more effective."

An expression of horror washed over Snape's face as her wand started a familiar movement.

"Minerva, don't you dar-"

"Rictusempra."

Snape's entire body tensed immediately. His knees crumpled and he slid to the ground. He sat stock still on the floor, legs out in front of him. However Minerva could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. The corner of her mouth tugged slightly towards the ceiling as she put more effort into the spell.

Snape's right shoulder twitched, then both his feet. The left side of his face seemed to have developed a tic, flinching every two seconds or so, and the fingers of his left hand grasped at nothing while he stared at McGonagall with utter loathing. There was no sound other than the clinking of chains as Snape threaded the fingers of his right hand through them, pulling and squeezing as he tried to hide any undignified reaction. Suddenly, there was a very slight cracking sound and blood started leaking from the side of his mouth.

"Severus! Your teeth! Unclench your jaw this instant!" Scolded the woman who had caused the situation.

"THEY'LL GROW BACK! Bloody h-! FUCK!" Bellowed Snape and he threw his head back against the wall causing a slight dent in the stone and possibly his skull for a moment.

"Severus! Rude!"

Snape just panted in an attempt to hold in certain unwanted sounds.

"I… am… goinggg… to kihill… you."

"You're chained to a wall, Severus. Rictusempra potens."

The scream blossomed into an aching laughter, laced with expletives. It echoed off the stone walls as the Potions Master squirmed. His feet kicked out one after the other as if in an attempt to fling the offending sensation away, while his hands tested the limits of the chains. Snape tried to pull his mind in on itself, occlude, but he couldn't. He was used to pain, to fire, to aching, to shooting lances of agony. This, no. This was not fair.

"AAAARRRGGHhhhaaaaaahahahamerlinsbahahls! Stop!"

"Oh you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, Severus. You are entirely too serious all the time. You smile even less than I do."

His breath came in gasps as he tried to contain the laughter. "Nohohot smiling nNOW! Dirty! Fight dirty! You!" His entire body convulsed as the spell trailed fingers and feathers over his feet. McGonagall might have scruples against painful torture but she apparently had no problem completely debasing a man!

"I fight dirty? You're one to talk. And come now Severus, this is a completely normal sensation. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Even I giggled last week when I entered Gryffindor common room during a pillow fight and got hit."

Snape's back arched as fingers traced down his sides. His feet hit the floor repeatedly while convulsing laughter shook him. The sound echoing off the walls was a deep laugh interspersed with many extremely vulgar expletives.

"Nohoho. This j-juhhuhust another thing I now hahahave to practice Occluding during. Haaaaaaa! Fuck! Merlin's beard thiiiis is Horrid!"

"Only you would describe being tickled as horrid. I will help you learn after this is over, Severus."

The glare sent her way would petrify a basilisk.

"Rather…endure Cruciatussss." He managed to bite out through clenched teeth which held back none of the laughter, instead just giving it a distinctly hollow sound.

Minerva huffed in exasperation at the wizard's attitude.

"I know. That is, I believe, the point. Now." She dropped the spell. "Why do you want to reach Dumbledore once you've grown in strength?" Snape barked out an answer.

"To make him give me the DADA position."

"Severus, everyone thinks it's cursed, Dumbledore says he knows it is. Everyone who takes it cannot hold the position for more than a year, a few have died."

"And I'm already dead."

"That's not how it works and you know it. You're just evading, and being obtuse. Now, let's try again. Why do you want to reach Dumbledore with your so-called magic saturated blood?" Snape frowned and clenched his jaw. An answer, truth but not what she wanted.

"So that I can subdue him and make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

"Severus. That's already your job."

"No. It's not." He snapped. "And I'm not sure Merlin himself could keep that man from trouble. Still, I'd like to make an attempt."

McGonagall sighed. None of this was new information. He was deflecting. "Severus, I'll give you one last chance to answer me."

"And I'll give you one last chance to stop before you regreheheheht!" The spell lashed out and Snape's entire body spasmed.

"Hate! Hhahahahahahaaaate!" The angry laughter was peppered with even more curses before the room went quiet. Having lost his breath Snape had decided not to search for it. He sat and convulsed with unheard and unwanted chuckles and guffaws, decidedly unhappy with the sensations running through him. He was, however, quite happy to let the witch waste time while he sat working through his various convulsions and squirms. Sadly, this was not to be.

"What is your goal with Dumbledore in relation to your vampirism?" Snape cursed through the unyielding phantom fingers that were currently tickling his inner thigh and upper left armpit. If the sensation was uniform he was sure he could shut it out, but no, it was random and moved, switching between fingers and feathers and sometimes even lips blowing raspberries. He couldn't think, words came flowing out between gasps for air and brief peals of laughter. The spell's intensity was lessened so he could talk a bit, but his entire body was still under attack and he couldn't keep back the undignified laughter.

"To give… hihim my blood… hahahahh filled with magic powowerffful enoughhhhohoh sodding -subdue him. To have -hydras teeth! The most powerful wizard offfffofof century - stop! Thrall! His blood would pit meheheheee equalfuckinghell! dozen our enemies. Prepare meheee for HIS retuhuhurn." Snape paused briefly at the thought of his old master's return. That's when the spell finally dropped in full and Snape's entire body shivered with relief. He just sat there and breathed for a time. He did not need the oxygen, but his body was tired.

When he had had a minute he looked at the patient cat and glowered.

"With him in my thrall I could ask him his plans and have him answer me with the simple truth."

McGonagall nodded at all these wants, they were understandable. They were human. Some were selfish, others altruistic, some were things she wanted too. Snape however, was not done. There was one more thing.

This last thing, it pained him to say. He bit his tongue and McGonagall raised an eyebrow as blood seeped out from between his lips as he tried to hold his secret back. There were ways to resist these direct questions. They involved breaking one's mind, even more so than the compartmentalization he practiced. He could not risk damaging his mind, for many reasons. So he bit his tongue till it bled, till it was almost cut in two. He was succeeding, barely. Bits and pieces of words spilled out in an incoherent mess through blood and the clenched teeth holding his tongue. He was doing well, he was speaking, but his tormentor could not understand him.

"Is there anything else you'd do to Dumbledore Severus?" Snape fumed as he felt his jaw unclench at the new request. He clamped down harder and there was another crack as a molar fractured.

"Severus, am I going to have to cast s-"

"Merlin's hairy balls woman! I knew cats played with their food, but this is cruel!"

"Severus…" she raised her wand and Snape snarled but began to talk.

"You fight dirty."

"So do you, Severus Snape. Wand with wand as they say. Now, if you'd be so kind as to answer the question?"

"I'd rather not."

"Severus. No more stalling." Snape frowned and sat up straight, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He took a big breath and closed his eyes.

"My goal…would be to prolong my friend's life with my blood, and upon his death bed, give him a choice."

"Being?" The words following were barely a whisper, but the sound echoed in the chamber nonetheless. Snape opened his eyes and as he took another breath he looked down at the ground.

"To be the most powerful wizard in the world for as long as he wished…."

"Or…." Snape snapped his head up and glared at her. She knew what the answer was, and yet she dragged it out of him. He had gained a newfound respect for the woman today. She knew how to get under a man's— his, skin. He would have never thought to use a prank spell to prevent him from occluding. Yes. Minerva was a powerful witch and a good ally. She was even a good friend to him on occasion. If she remained one, well she'd have to survive his ire first. Snape took a deep breath and relaxed. He looked at his friend, captor, ally, enemy, and spoke.

"To allow me one last meal from him, and to be the one to send him on his way…"

McGonagall exhaled and stood up with an air of finality. She pushed the chair behind the table, regarded her captive, and shook her head.

"You are an evil monster Severus Snape," Snape sneered, "but a good man." The sneer dissolved into a scowl, and as McGonagall turned to leave he tested the chains and lunged for her... falling far short. As she closed the door she looked at him and shook her head once again, the faintest of smiles on her lips. A cat with her curiosity satisfied.

Then Snape was left alone. The faintest taste of honey from his own veritaserum lingering on the back of his tongue.