(Hey! important stuff notes at the end if you're reading this soon after it was published!)

Snape once again made his way outdoors. This time however he headed toward the greenhouse. Pomona. With the distraction from Mr. Lee underway, he had at least a little time, but if he wanted none of the teachers to come after him this evening, have time to activate wards on his house that would prevent entry and detection, he needed a second distraction. If he had left before he nearly ran into Sinistra and talked to Me. Lee, he would have been fine. Now, it was less likely. With the teachers out from dinner the moment he gave Pomona the idea he intended to leave they would be on him in moments. He was fast, but four or more teachers shooting spells at him with no covering and the possibility of students watching was not an ideal situation.

He stepped out of the open air hall and onto the grass and listened, smelled. He could feel the pull of the vial, it was still out here. Pomona was near her greenhouse. She had most likely made one round and was using her 'home turf' as a sort of regrouping area.

The night air felt crisp as he breathed it in. Each breath brought information with it. He could smell Pomona now, her earthy scent was hidden amongst the smells of the greenhouse, but it was there. He strode across the grounds with purpose, with a goal. With night covering him.

He would get there and confront her, question her, grab the vial, and bit-

He froze in his tracks. He took a deep breath. He looked at the castle against the night sky. He grounded himself. He was here, as Severus Snape the teacher, he told himself.

It felt like a lie. It was a lie. He scowled at the obvious truth he'd have to admit if he wanted to control this damned red mist. He was not Severus Snape the teacher right now. He was Severus Snape the vampire, pretending to be Severus Snape the teacher. That was a fact. He had to reign that in. He had a goal. Escape and deal with this horrid situation on his own. He had a plan. Convince Pomona and the remaining teachers to search for Minerva.

He took another breath. Her scent was stronger, the must of freshly turned forest dirt mixed with sweet pumpkin juice. How would she ta-

He exhaled, and did not breathe in again. He was 'hunting' right now. Looking for a quarry. That did not mean he was hunting. He looked for students and teachers all the time, this was no different. He was not hungry, the mild reminder was there, but it wasn't telling him to eat now. It wasn't. That was the red mist. He was fine. He was not 'hungry'. And he Was in control.

Perhaps he could just avoid this confrontation? They would notice Minerva was missing eventually. He could theoretically run past her, but that would expose his back and if she chanced to see him... She had quite good aim from sniping numerous curious tendrils and bugs. And while he took time to dodge, others would show up. He took out his wand and attempted to summon the vial from Pomona. He waited, no luck.

He strode forward toward the greenhouse. Yellow light glowed through windows tinted with condensation and dirt. Pomona was near, he could tell, hear the heartbeat, the drum. Hers was almost always steady, nothing unnerved her. The one time he had heard it quicken was when a student had been bitten by one of the venomous tentaculas while alone in the greenhouse. He had seen her carrying the student in a rush through the halls. Not levitating like most wizards would, but carrying. She normally had antivenin on hand, normally she brewed it herself, normally the one ingredient she couldn't grow was not three days late.

Normally she locked the greenhouse when leaving it alone for longer than two minutes, but chasing after a Ravenclaw who had been hexed to run had taken a tad longer than that. The bitten student had been saved only because he had an extra supply of the mediterranean razor mint, and after realizing what had happened had gone to her private greenhouse to finish the potion that she had annoyedly told him the night before had been on stasis for three days.

He thought the witch was about to kiss him when he brought in the still smoking vial to the hospital wing half an hour after she had rushed through the corridors. Instead he had found a large gift basket of numerous, very expensive, potions ingredients from her private greenhouse in his private brewing room two days later. There was no note, but the ribbon on it had been yellow and black. The woman herself may be boisterous, blunt, overly optimistically, and disgustingly friendly, but she was also very intuitive when it came to people. He didn't want a spectacle and she had not made one. He would not say they were friends, but there was a professional respect between them.

And as he watched her walk back into the greenhouse from afar he frowned. Because he could still hear that tiny voice asking questions that the version of him he was putting forward right now shouldn't be asking.

How would she taste? How would she react? Would she feel fear?

Snape did not want to hear these questions. They had not weighed in the back of his mind outside his own chambers after his first year here. He mused on them late at night in his own rooms when he'd had a truly stressful week, but they did not pop up unbidden during the day. Since the damned accident…

If he could go back and resurrect Ivan, he would make the boy's death far slower than he had. Far less kind than the quick drink he'd taken. After his initial bit of fun he'd cast the legilimens and then shoved a draught of living death down Ivan's throat. He'd been clinical. He'd filled vials with blood, stopped Ivan's heart painlessly, and then dealt with his body as carefully and as cleanly as if it were a potions ingredient. The bones were after all. Skelegrow required them.

This whole experience was the damn boy's fault, and 90% of it had been highly unpleasant. …He could not deny he'd missed blood though. Once he had cured himself of this stupid addiction he would be back here, drinking blood daily, instead of his potion. It would be thinned out by blood replenisher, but it would be blood. Blood his colleagues would be donating. It made him, among other things, uncomfortable. A multitude of emotions and thoughts sprung through the cracks in his occlumency shields. He confronted them head on and put them to rest.

He didn't want pity. He knew Flitwick wasn't donating out of pity though, nor would Minerva be. In fact, considering what his fellow professors knew of his past, he doubted they pitied him in any way. They might shake their heads at the 'unfortunate lot that led him down that path' but they all agreed he'd dug his own grave. He'd heard as much from whispers in the staff room that always seemed to stop as he entered.

He didn't want to be seen as weak. He had to admit he doubted many of his fellow professors saw him as weak either. Cantankerous, off putting, withdrawn perhaps; but weak? When Poxie Putrefaction spread through the area he provided enough potion to cure the sick students in the school. Nobody had thought to look up the ingredients until after. He remembered Minerva confronting him at a staff meeting, asking why the expensive ingredient wasn't listed in the budget and how many had paled when he said he had a source that incurred no expense to the school. They had assumed student potions accidents were the cause of his various lost fingers, not the fact that undead flesh was a required ingredient. It came at a premium and was slow to arrive, his own was far more easily accessible. No, he had a feeling none of the teachers who knew of his condition thought of him as weak.

He didn't want to be indebted to them. He doubted they would ask for recompense though. Small kindnesses and assistance given freely were expected as the bare minimum for these people. He had grown to understand that at least, even if he rarely, never, actually did the first. He did assist though, when he could, when he felt like it, when it wasn't something completely idiotic and their own fault. Breaking the curse on Sinistra's 200 year old telescope had been quite a challenge though. The Arabic curse had made anyone who had looked through it see stars, just stars, permanently.

He did want to… taste… No matter. He'd get to on his return.

He looked at the shadow Sprout cast as she went about checking her plants. He remembered vaguely she had a new one that required some type of semi regular ministrations for the first five days. Hopefully her absence searching for him earlier hadn't killed it. She would say he was worth more than the plant, but it would still be his fault and he hated that hanging over his head. He had enough memories doing that. He had enough other thoughts invading his head.

He scowled. He needed something to take the edge off. He was about to remove one of the vials from his pocket when he remembered another acquisition from earlier. Going to his bandolier he removed one small vial of red and held it before him.

He had two. By his estimation a potion that allowed him to enhance the ability to sense the boy would require three drops. He hadn't created such a thing yet but half a vial could go to experimentation and the other half had about a dozen drops. This vial, the second one, he could have half now. He would use the other half to start developing his ability to sense and track the boy. If the child was as impetuous and foolhardy as his father he would need to be under some kind of surveillance.

For now though, perhaps it might just make the red mist subside a bit.

He uncorked the vial and took a sip. Ash, the slightest hint of ash and the must of something almost sweet. Snape rolled it over over his tongue and sucked some air over it. There was another flavor. It was recognizable, but faint as if it was… hidden. It was not…pleasant like the first two. Snape swallowed, and his throat tingled.

That was… quite a bit of magic for a young boy. Nothing too impressive, but it was unusual to say the least. He corked the vial and opened his cloak to return it to its spot.

"Severus?"

He looked up to see Pomona's head sticking out the door. He replaced the vial and pulled his shirt down over the bandolier before closing his cloak and striding forward.

"Pomona. I have been looking for you."

"You…have?" There was uncertainty in her voice. "Why?"

"I require your assistance on a couple of items."

"Oh! I'd be glad to help! Come in, come in!" She beckoned him in but Snape shook his head. It would not do to be in an area that might give her an advantage should it come to spell slinging.

"It should not be long."

"You always say. I'm starting to think you hate the greenhouse."

"Your sunflora do make me a tad uncomfortable considering I have not had time to reapply my lotions." A half truth. Those flowers were a menace. One would just peel off some layers of skin, but Sprout had three and that might remove enough skin to reveal muscle, which would be rather irritating. That was of course with his lotion, without it, he might actually burst into flames.

Sprout paused. "Yes. Yes, I could see that. Very well, give me a moment." She said and hurried back inside. Snape leaned in to watch her tap her wand against three small plants that had large gourds that were shaking. Vegetable lambs. Not ready yet, but in a week they would be. They always had a high risk of blooming too early and letting out an animal that wasn't quite done, or alive.

Pomona obviously was attempting some experiment to deal with that. She sighed and sent a blast at the large man trap in the corner as it moved towards her and shut off the light on her way out.

"There. Now, what did you need?" She said while she locked the door and then started walking. Snape followed, noticing she put herself between him and any path of egress.

"Well, firstly I wanted to ask you about the rumor you spread, regarding the love potion?"

"Oh! Well, we needed a reason for you to have fled and for us to be rather concerned about it, but not so concerned that you would be hunted down if the word got to a child's parents or the ministry. When Filch came back telling us about your false excuse it was obvious something botched with a potion would be best. However, obviously it couldn't have been you that botched it."

Snape smirked. No. It would either ruin his reputation, or be completely unbelievable for him to have botched a potion. "Naturally. So you decided that having the maker botch it, or my frequent use of potions interact poorly with it?"

"We decided on the second. It didn't matter honestly, they would get mixed up in the rumour mill along with the side effects and who gave it to you. The best rumors I've heard from the students are very close to the truth."

"And those are?"

"Ivan hid a potion in your class that would go off as revenge."

"A…delayed potion explosion? For this long? Ridiculous." Snape said scornfully and changed his direction slightly, steering them away from the castle entrance, toward the lake. Pomona kept pace and said nothing about it.

"Yes, well, they don't know that. We don't cover delayed potions that deeply in our curriculum anymore."

"True. But it wouldn't hurt any of them to read a book on their own time."

Pomona chuckled, "You're not wrong. The other one I've heard is that the potion Ivan brewed that gave you wings, interacted with the love potion making you rather violent."

"Yes, well I have felt rather violent these days. Which brings me to my second request. I'd like the vial in your pocket, it is for me, correct?"

Pomona's step faltered at this, and she tripped in surprise. Snape merely stood still as she regained her balance and turned to look at him.

"It is… technically. It's supposed to keep you here if you start to leave."

Snape raised a brow. "As in I run to the forest… you open the vial?" Pomona nodded affirmation at his assessment and he snorted. "Ridiculous."

"Yes. I agree. This whole ordeal is ridiculous. Well, it's also a bartering chip. Everyone who got a vial was told that we were to give it to you if you-"

"Promised to be a nice little vampire and not eat any of you? Please, I've been told by Filius I'll be doing that on a regular basis thanks to your so-called donations."

"We all just want to help, Severus." She pleaded, but her hard eyes spoke of her willingness to force that help upon him.

"You're all idiots." He said and continued towards the lake.

"For wanting to help a friend?" Pomona inquired as she fell into step beside him, still between him and the forest. Snape ignored the friend comment and shook his head.

"For wanting to help something that, given the right circumstances, would gladly eat you."

Pomona put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Severus Snape, I will not have you talking about yourself like that! You're not a thing!"

Of course that's the part she would latch into. Typical Hufflepuff. "An undeserving monster then."

Pomona's frown deepened. It was so easy to rile her up. Any self deprecation, deserved or not, got her going immediately.

"Snape! My cheering charms are some of the most potent the headmaster has ever seen. Do not make me use them!"

"I wouldn't think of it. My question remains about the vial. I'm still confused as to why Sybill has one." He pushed down the smirk. Had one. It was in his pocket now.

"I heard her being told by Dumbledore that if she saw you alone, to give it to you and quickly walk away. I believe he thought you might…"

"Go after an easy meal? Madam Sprout, if you have not noticed I like very few easy things. My current profession should attest to that at least."

"Potions?"

"Working with children." Snape riposted.

"So you do enjoy it then?" Pomona countered with a smile.

Snape scoffed. The woman did have a quick retort on occasion. "Those are your words not mine. Now the vial?"

Pomona shook her head.

"Very well. Then that shall bring me to my second to last question. Does the help you're offering this time in relation to my most urgent problem involve chaining me to a chair?"

She took a moment to decipher that then shook her head. "I have no clue what Dumbledore's plan is, only that we need to get you to him. …Chained to a chair? Why would you need to be chained to a chair? Surely just locking you in a heavily warded room would be fine?"

"Please volunteer to open that door after two weeks, I'm sure I'd be very happy to see you." He said with a sneer.

Pomona's face tightened with displeasure. "I'm sure we are quite capable of getting you food during those two weeks. Now. If you are done being obstinate, get on with your last question so we can head inside."

"Mmm, I'm sure your alarm charm has already called people. Now, have you seen Minerva?"

Pomona's brows knit together as she thought. "Not recently. Last I heard she was sent to meet you."

Snape stood there. Silent, waiting. Pomona's face paled.

"You… what did you do?"

Snape ignored the question. "She has approximately two hours left… Actually, one hour and forty five minutes after our conversation. I'd suggest you hurry."

Pomona's face was white with fear and concern, but her eyes were full of fire. Hurting a Hufflepuff's friend was a sure way to get burned.

"What?! Severus! How could you!? Where is she!? Tell me this instant!"

"Give me the vial."

Pomona fumed, but as Snape held out his hand she pulled it from her side pouch and slapped it into his palm. Through the reverberating echo of glass on flesh Snape could hear heartbeats, strong ones, and smell his colleagues coming.

"There! You have your vial! Where is she?"

"Not in the astronomy tower, nor Hagrid's hut." Snape barely managed to sidestep the stupefy the witch shot at him as she marched by. He watched as she headed over to the approaching hoard. "I'd hurry if I were you."

He'd never have believed it in a million years. He wasn't positive he did now. He was normally quite sure of his eyesight, but… Had Pomona really flipped him the bird behind her back? It had been so fast and she hadn't even broken her stride.

He watched as she approached a chorus of questions but a quick raise of her hands quieted Sinistra, Hooch, and Kettleburn.

"We need to find Minerva, now. We have an hour and forty five minutes, perhaps less. Silvanus, check Hagrid's hut, Aurora, when were you last in your tower? No! No time for questions!"

Snape smirked. At least she didn't trust his words completely. Perhaps that was why she had done it, time insulting him was time not spent finding Minerva. He watched the group rally for a moment and then headed to the road to Hogsmead, satisfied with his plot's success.

It was a quiet walk, unencumbered by company as it was. Snape put the vial next to the others in a pocket. Four, four whole vials. Of course, he'd ration it. Try to distract himself with other activities. Get some wants out of his system. Perhaps try a few new things, like changing into a bat so he wouldn't have to concentrate on keeping his new attributes hidden. It was barely an inconvenience, but any mental coin he used for something besides his occlumency was coin poorly spent.

He walked along the road to the town and contemplated another question. What would the teachers use as an excuse for his departure now? Probably that he was recovering from the potion, perhaps in his rooms. Snape chuckled slightly. His rooms. He wondered how long it would take them to find Minerva? Even if they went down there they most likely wouldn't be able to get in without Dumbledore, and he was likely preoccupied with 'saving' Sybil from Mr. Lee. So Minerva would be stuck in that chair for another hour and… fifteen minutes. Well, even if they found her she'd be paralyzed for that long no matter what they did. He hoped they wouldn't waste a bezoar, it wouldn't do anything. He'd made sure of that. It wasn't technically poison after all, but a paralytic. You would need mandrake, which as far as he knew, were not ripe yet. Or pickled long enough.

He pondered what their reactions would be when they found out no one was actually in danger at all.

They'd all be relieved, obviously. Minerva would be quite irate despite that. Mainly because he had out maneuvered her again. He would have to be extra careful around her when he returned, she would be looking for recompense.

Flitwick would be confused and impressed, and then in the library to do research. It'd take him thirty minutes to realize he'd been enthralled. Pomona would just shake her head and sigh, annoyed at his plotting and 'inability' to accept assistance, but glad she hadn't misjudged him. Sybill wouldn't care, but would swear up and down she hadn't misplaced the vial. That surely the powers that be took it from her and it was a sign.

Poppy would just huff and go back to work. Hooch would once again suggest night patrols by broom now that she had another reason to tout. Aurora and Septima would write him a strongly worded letter that would be on his face when he woke up one morning.

Kettleburn would curse, and was sure to yell at him upon his return, but do so in private and then offer to go drinking. Hagrid would say he'd known Snape wouldn't really harm anyone. He'd swear the same for Mr. Lee. Dumbledore would pretend nothing was wrong but begin talking about other solutions.

Snape sighed as he walked the main street toward Hogsmead, a brief moment of contentment amidst the chaos. It was a beautiful night. Despite all the bedlam, annoyance, pain, and even death, it hadn't been an unproductive day. He had vials of blood. He had learned a great deal about his condition. There would most likely be food upon his return, actual food not a potion. Only two people had died, and he hadn't killed them. It was two too many, but still.

At the edge of the apparition wards he paused and looked at the few people walking about the town that night in the distance. Yellow light flickered in the bars, drums and laughter emanating from them along with the smell of dinner. Numerous other abodes sported the same smells and sounds. What a perfect scene of tranquility; why impose himself upon it any longer and risk having to actually interact with people?

With a pop he vanished into the night air.

(hey! I'm doing scene requests of Snape doing stuff outside of the castle. The next chapter actually has one, Snape meets a precocious young child. If you have a request and I can fit it in, please post it! I am attempting to be something resembling canon compliant, this means him randomly running into say Lupin would make sense while him running into Sirius would not. I hope you guys are enjoying the story and as always comments and reviews help lift my spirits.)