Snape woke to bright light and the grinding of stones. He had fallen asleep reading. He took an unneeded breath and sat up, grateful for the memory-less sleep last night. He raised his hand over his clothes, about to do the simplest of wandless magics when the stones ground together loudly. He looked up to see a set of fresh underthings and socks hanging on the wall opposite him. He nodded, at the room, at the house elves, at something, and got up and headed over to the clothing.

He changed slowly, folding the old clothes and setting them in a pile in the corner. He pondered why he had not been given a completely new set of clothes, ripped as his were. Of course, if these were ripped, the new ones might go the same way, why waste them. Perhaps the house elves, or Albus, had gone through a similar thought process. He looked around the room.

He had nothing but time, and books… and a mild ache telling him he was hungry along with that itch and pull that told him Minerva was near. He sat down again, intent on ignoring the sensation and the nagging voice that told him he should be plotting his escape, and opened the book on drugs once more. He was almost finished. It was an interesting read, and a few ideas for potions had been gained through the reading of it. Perhaps the last few chapters would inspire more.

Two hours later he set down the book, no new ideas had been had. He looked at the ceiling.

"Should I bother inquiring about the time?"

A book dropped from the ceiling and Snape picked it up. 'The Miracle Morning. The 6 habits that will transform your life before 8am.'

"Ah. Before 8 am. How helpful."

The ceiling ground and then was silent for a minute before another book dropped and almost hit Snape in the head. He leaned to the side and snatched it from the air as it fell past his head. He looked at the title. 'Life begins at 6:40'.

"So between 6:40 and 8 am. Thank you."

The ceiling ground once again and then was silent as he set the books down. They vanished when he let go of them.

Snape looked at the two remaining books. The chemistry one seemed a bit dense right now. He needed something easily picked up and put down. Dumbledore might be here at any moment. He looked at the history book and shook his head.

"Something light, I need something light." Snape thought and then a smile so small it looked like a twitch flew across his face. He looked at the ceiling once more. "I'd like to see what muggle's consider horror. Something that might even scare a wizard… No… An Ex Death Eater." A single book fell from the ceiling. He caught it and looked at the cover. It was covered in tentacles.

"'Lovecraft, the Complete Works.' Very well." And Snape sat down in the chair where he awoke yesterday and began to read.

It was not an hour later when chains manifested from the stone and grabbed his legs and wrists. Snape closed the book and set it on his lap. His hand twitched a bit as he sat, betraying the unease and discomfort that was attacking him on multiple fronts. The drumbeat on the other side of the wall was loud and only got louder as the door formed. He had already tested if he could banish these chains wandlessly; he, of course, could not. He was quite thankful for it, he did not want the option weighing on his mind, have the opportunity to harm Albus. Despite his strong will, if he had found that option available to him now he was unsure he would be able to tell Albus even now. If the red mist descended…

He watched as the door opened and the headmaster entered, eyes shining along with the gold suns on his dark blue robe.

"Good morning Severus."

Snape nodded his good morning to the headmaster as he walked in, a single vial floating in front of him.

"How are you this morning?"

"It's… starting to become a strain."

"Ah, well this should help." The vial of red floated towards him and he grabbed it. Snape opened and drank it without fuss, slight warmth spreading through him.

"I see you've found a book of the non educational variety to read." Said Dumbledore, looking at the book in Snape's lap.

"Have you read it?" Enquired the Potions Master.

"Some. A few of the tales are quite terrifying. Now I unfortunately must leave you quickly this morning. I shall be back this evening though for a chat."

Snape nodded as the vial vanished and the headmaster left, robes billowing behind him in a way that was somehow far more benign than his own. The manacles released and the chains receded as soon as the door clicked shut and Severus began to read again.

By lunch he'd finished the book. Some of the stories were disturbing, but most worked on the same theory. The unknown is more terrifying than the known. It wasn't wrong, but it grew droll after some time. Also, most of the more non monster related stories were situations any witch or wizard could easily avoid. However, some of the descriptions of dark magic or unreal science disturbed Snape. They held inklings of ideas that reminded him of the depths that a wizard might fall to, and their repercussions.

Snape set the book down, and it vanished as soon as his hand let go. He looked at the chemistry book but after a quick scan of the first page he decided to save it for a fitful night. He had a feeling that it would be rather intense, a good distraction. With a disgruntled and resigned look he picked up the book on history and sat back down. He was still reading when Albus returned that evening.

"Severus. How did you enjoy the anthology?" The Headmaster asked as he conjured his fluffy armchair.

"It was entertaining at least. It reminded me of some of the more despicable dark magics. This is a bit more interesting, and amusing. Did you know some muggles had an academic war over bones? They fought over fossils and were so eager to find more than the other that they put them together incorrectly. I'm fairly certain from the description of one skull that they found a pseudo dragon, but without anything but bones classified it as one of these so-called 'dinosaurs'."

"Ah yes. I remember. That is quite a good book. Yes the ministry has had to replace a few of their finds over the ages. There is a whole branch dedicated to thwarting the academics who accidentally stumble onto magical history. It's quite interesting. Now."

With a pop a vial of red appeared above Snape. The vial dropped and Snape caught it easily as Dumbledore set up his tea as normal. While the milk and sugar were poured Snape quickly drank the vial and set it on the ground.

"So?"

"Peaches and salted brown sugar… it seems a bit light though. Not very…satisfying."

"Ah. Well we are limiting you to two a day, so my apologies but you may be slightly hungry. So, as a distraction, what story shall I regale you with tonight?"

"I have always wondered how you met Fawkes. He seems fiercely loyal." Asked Severus as he settled down, trying to ignore the feeling that he was a child and this was a bedtime story meant to placate him.

"Ah. A wonderful story." Albus picked up his tea and sipped it, coating his throat. "I was in India. Wonderful country, lovely people. However their ministry was having trouble with controlling the selling and breeding of magical creatures at the time I went. You see, the market there and in China is flooded with remedies."

"For what?"

"Everything. Anything. Many of them are made from animals, magical or not. Some animals are unfortunately endangered due to this practice. The problem extends to the muggle community as well. Illicit substances for potions and spells abound there. I was roaming the market when one such item caught my eye. Phoenix ashes."

Severus looked incredulous. "That is a class A banned item. Not just for hardship in acquiring. The only potions that use it are either explosive or restorative and both are unstable. Highly unstable."

"Yes. But people are desperate. I enquired as to where the ashes had been gathered from and the seller told me he didn't know. But I could tell the man was lying. I bought the ashes-"

"All of them?"

"Yes, a good 4th of a cup and-"

"That's at least 70 galleons."

"It was." Albus took a sip and then continued. "I followed him that night assuming he would resupply. He led me to a cinnamon grove atop a small mountain. He had a spear made of ivory, a crime in and of itself, but it shimmered with multiple enchantments. He climbed a tree and I followed suit nearby. I reached the top in time to see the horrid man stab what couldn't have been more than a 10 week old phoenix with the spear. It of course burst into flame and the man scooped up the ashes and slid down."

"I thought phoenix could vanish and reappear at will?"

"Oh yes, an adolescent one. At ten weeks all he could really do was eat leaves and cinnamon bark. So I scooped up the bird and left. I of course called their ministry and told them of the vendor but as I doubted they would get to him before he vanished I went back early that morning and stole the spear so he at least could never do that to another bird. You've looked at it many times, it's broken in two and hangs in my office above the bookcase."

Snape regarded the headmaster as he took a sip of tea. Apparently he led a rather adventurous life before he came to Hogwarts. Everyone knew of Grindlewald, but there were stretches of time after that few knew about.

"Anyway. I took the bird to my friend Newt Scamander-"

"The writer of that textbook?"

"The very one, I see you paid attention in class."

Snape rolled his eyes at the praise but stayed silent.

"Anyway, I left the bird in his care but not 7 months later I got a message from him saying the poor thing had vanished. I was packing my bags to go help him search and was looking for my favorite pair of socks. I had just found them and turned around to find a small bird covered in grey and red feathers sitting in the middle of my suitcase. It looked up at me, squawked once, and messed on my paisley shirt. He hasn't left my side since."

"So you didn't train him? He just, appeared?"

"Oh no. We went through quite extensive training. Me mainly not feeding him his favorite leaves whenever he messed anywhere that wasn't his stand. And of course feeding him his favorite leaves whenever he did. Other than that though we mostly just have an understanding. He's quite smart. Whenever he is particularly mad though I will find a robe with a white glob on it."

Severus chuckled.

"My dear boy, I haven't heard that sound in ages. I do hope I can get a few more out of you."

"Well I suppose we shall see tomorrow night, unless there is more to the story?"

"Alas, there is not. It is a far shorter, and nicer, one than the previous evening's. As for that book on your bed though," said Dumbledore, tilting his head to the chemistry book, "I would save that for a particularly rough night. I attempted to read it and got quite a headache and then promptly fell asleep attempting to understand exactly which part gave it to me."

"Noted."

The next few days and nights passed in such a manner. Books. Breakfast and a chat. More books. Pacing. Dinner and a story. More books. Itching veins and an aching stomach. Ever louder drumbeats. Sleep. Repeat. An increasing desire to plot an escape or attack his captor that he continually pushed aside. All the while he was getting more and more exhausted, more and more hungry; despite two meals a day.

Still Snape learned about the headmaster's past. The pain and discomfort was almost worth is. He listened to a tale about a trek Albus took through Ireland that involved a debacle with a niffler and a leprechaun. How he helped a unicorn give birth, and nearly got gored for his troubles. He learned about why the merfolk in the water tolerated him.

On the fourth day, when he was going to tell him about the centaurs, Dumbledore only found time to visit during breakfast, and on the fifth day he didn't visit at all. The eighth he had time for breakfast again but that was it.

Snape felt exhausted by the tenth, barely able to keep his eyes open during Albus' retelling of the last Hogwarts pantomime and how it quickly dissolved into disaster.

The eleventh day Severus woke up to a different sensation. His entire body burned. He could feel the pull in his chest so strongly he imagined his heart was attempting to escape. It moved constantly. A single step in the classroom was as noticeable as a walk down the hallway. The Transfigurations Professor was on the move. Severus followed along the edges of the room, unable to sit down and concentrate on any words. They blurred and swum before his eyes and he had given up quite quickly.

So he paced. And waited. He felt tired, exhausted, but he couldn't sit still with that pull and that damn drumbeat. He dragged his feet around the room with effort, egged on by nervous energy. He was grateful for when he could stand still and lean against a wall when his prey was still.

The chains pulled him into the chair from across the room today. When he hit the back of the seat his vision swam. He could hear the door open and he lunged for it, for the chance to get close to that constantly moving drumbeat. He barely stood up before the chains yanked him forcefully back down. The headmaster stopped in the doorway and regarded the man before him.

"Ah. So it begins. I'm assuming you wish to be alone?"

Snape nodded, his mind clearing slightly with the headmaster's calming presence, though the vampire's entire body was tense.

"Very well. I shall leave the vial on the table. I'll check in tonight."

Snape shook his head.

"As you wish then. Tomorrow."

The door closed and Snape lunged again. This time however the chains let go and he slammed into the wall, feeling the wood vanish as he hit. The stones vibrated with his yell as he picked up the armchair and threw it into the wall. It melted into the stone instead of breaking.

Snape breathed heavily but slowly walked to the table and picked up the vial. He downed the contents and carefully set the vial down.

He stood there a moment and then quickly reached for the table but it sank into the floor. The vial clinked as it hit the stone. All the books vanished. The bed melted into the wall. The only thing left was the chair in the center of the room, and the vial.

Snape sighed and resumed his pacing.