Chapter 4

Snape licked his lips and sat back with a very satisfied groan. "That was excellent."

Radu raised his goblet in salute, crimson liquid filling it to the brim. "Only the best will do." He sipped leisurely, closely watching his child. "I saw your mind," he started hesitantly, "but I want you to tell me what happened, what you remember first hand."

Staring into his empty glass, Severus slowly rubbed his index finger around the rim and began speaking. "The first thing I remembered was that I was ravenous, like I hadn't eaten in months. When I realized I was in the Shrieking Shack, and covered in blood, I have to admit it was one of the few times I was frightened."

"But you had faced Voldemort numerous times, had you not?" Radu asked, curious as to what would terrify the man before him. "Did you not fear for your life during those times?"

"No." Having gathered the remaining blood from the lip of the cup, Snape slipped his finger into his mouth, licking the precious liquid that clung to his skin. "I was well-versed in his scare tactics, as I'd been on their receiving end more than once during my servitude. In fact, I was the one responsible for a number of raids that involved..." He swallowed heavily, but continued. "Less than savoury methods."

"Then what was the reason for the fear?" Radu murmured. "Though you were newly made, you had exceptional powers that ordinary wizards do not."

Snape did not answer for a long time. He searched within himself for the rationale that he would dread his awakening to a 'new' life, yet not the Dark Lord himself. "I thought I had passed on, as it were," he finally muttered. "And I knew that I could never atone for my betrayal or actions, so I immediately surmised that I had awoken in Hell."

"Ah, this I cannot understand, but I sympathize," Radu said. "Go on."

Running his tongue along one of his fangs, Severus tried to recall all that had happened in the past three years. "I was very disoriented; the last thing I remembered was Lucius Malfoy approaching me on the battlefield, telling me that I was to return to the Shack per the Dark Lord's request. Upon awakening, I dragged myself to the trap door and literally fell into the tunnel beneath, my energy practically nil at that point. When I reached the end under the Whomping Willow, I exited none the wiser, which I soon learned was a mistake." He glanced at the back of his right hand where a pattern of faint scars resided, evidence of his brush with his vampiric nature's limitations. "The waning sunlight immediately prevented me from traversing very far, and I quickly returned to the tunnel opening, confused as to why my skin burned. I calculated as many possibilities in my mind as it would allow in its fragile state, finally coming to the conclusion that I was Nosferatu, or vampire, due to the lack of a pulse and elongated canines."

"You did not realize before this? Fangs? Lack of pulse?"

Snape glared at him. "When I awoke in a run-down shack covered in blood, Novac, my first priority was to evaluate my environment to determine if it was safe. Then, once I found a means of escape, I took stock of my person to ascertain any life-threatening injuries. Realizing I had no pulse...and had been given other accoutrements that I hadn't previously owned...was not a priority at the time."

The vampire prince smirked, amused at his irritation. "Such a sharp tongue to accompany equally sharp teeth."

"As I was saying," Snape intoned snidely, "once I was in the mouth of the tunnel, I could smell blood that wasn't my own. It made the ache in my stomach increase and compelled me to search it out. By the time I was somewhat sated, I'd consumed a great many rats that had made their home within the tunnel walls."

"Ah, that explains how you survived without your Anhelo Nex," Radu mused aloud.

"What the bloody hell is that? You keep saying that term."

"All in good time," Radu promised. "As for the rodents, though they are quite rancid to drink from, they are most plentiful and will sustain you in emergencies." He studied Snape for a moment. "Do you wish to drink only from animals?"

Licking his lips, Severus shook his head. "I avoided humans at all costs in the beginning, but once I tasted Weasley's blood, it was pure ecstasy, addictive. I was a fool to think I could survive only on rats or small mammals for the remainder of my existence."

"I must explain to you the hierarchy of vampires, Severus, and perhaps this will help you understand what a great honour has been bestowed upon you...help you understand the blood lust." He rose from his seated position and leisurely strolled around the length of the dining table.

"There are two kinds of vampires: those that are born this way," Radu pointed to himself, "and those that are turned. Those who are born vampires do not truly comprehend the idea of Heaven and Hell, as we are supposed to have no souls with which to burden either place." He gave Snape a conspiratorial wink. "We let the misinformed believe what they will, for it perpetuates rumours and legends that keep us beyond the realm of existence for most humans.

"Those that are turned, such as yourself, are usually normal humans or what you would call... Muggles, was it?"

Snape nodded. "Non-magical beings. There are Muggle-born witches and wizards, of course, who seem to be increasing in number as the years progress."

Radu stopped his slow meandering and leaned against the edge of the table where Snape sat. "Yes, the vampire covens have noticed this fact as well." Crossing his arms, he looked at his child pensively. "Your Hermione Granger is one of them."

"She is not my anything," the dark wizard said in a drawl. "According to the memories you brought forth, she merely gathered the recollections of my past for Mister Potter to view, and..." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Provided ease when I was ill."

A snort of laughter echoed in the chamber, mirth dancing in Radu's indigo-tinged gaze. "My, my... you are a stubborn one." Laying a hand on Severus' shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "You and her are connected, copile."

"How so?"

"I told you that converting normal humans creates the second type of vampire, yes? Well, there are exceptions," he hedged. "It is forbidden to turn wizards or witches."

Snape frowned heavily. "Then why..."

"As coven leader, I must sometimes break our laws to ensure our survival," Radu quickly informed him. "I had been starved for over a week by the time I was brought before you. My father, who was placed in a position of offering his army to that overblown trăncănitor or suffer my loss, chose to wait out Voldemort's demands, as I knew he would." Bowing his head, he paused for a moment. "When I returned to find my father slain by a rival coven, I knew I had made the right choice in turning you." Bending low, he stared at the seated vampire with indigo now fully blazing in his irises. "You are unique in the vampire and Wizarding world, Severus," he whispered harshly. "We do not turn wizards or witches because their power would increase thirtyfold and most cannot handle the responsibility that comes with such a gift. This is why Voldemort wanted us to join his crusade: to create a new race that would obliterate us all. But you? Your control is infinite, your moral character, though self-centred at times, is also selfless, and your intelligence extraordinary.

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," he hissed, cupping Severus' cheeks. "Your wisdom would prevent this type of abuse." Closing his eyes, he stood and blew out a shaky breath. "It is good that I trust you."

A dark eyebrow rose in scepticism. "Why? You know nothing of me. I could be worse than Voldemort and Grindelwald put together."

Radu placed his hand over Snape's heart. "This is why I chose you," he stated simply, pressing against his chest. "You have the heart of a noble protector and a wise leader."

Inhaling sharply, Snape bit the inside of this cheek to keep from unmanning himself. No one had ever had this much trust in him. Not Voldemort and certainly not Dumbledore. It was a heady thing that was being presented to him on a silver platter. Was he up to the responsibility of so much power? Clearing his throat, he tapped the arm of the plush chair he sat in. "What purpose does Miss Granger serve?"

Returning to his relaxed stance, Radu smirked with a gleam in his eyes. "She is unique as well. The Muggles we turn all have what is called the 'Anhelo Nex' antigen within their blood. Normally, the selected humans are singled out early in their life by one of the covens, and followed until the right time to convert them. It is very rare to find a Muggle-born wizard or witch who carry such an antigen." He frowned for a moment to think. "I don't believe I've seen one in over four hundred years."

"What happens then?"

"In normal humans, the antigen acts as a homing beacon for our kind, an indication of who is suitable for turning as a companion, a lover, or mate." Radu stroked his chin thoughtfully. "In Muggle-born witches or wizards, however, to the vampire experiencing the attraction it is an indication of a true mate, or soul mate, if you will." He looked pointedly at Severus. "That is why they are so rare. Once bonded, mates will do anything to protect one another, and they must never be underestimated."

"So, am I to assume I still carry a soul, if I have this supposed mate?" The retired spy felt he'd given up enough of it during his service and it would be the height of irony if he lost it now.

Radu grew pensive for a moment. "As I said before, I am a born vampire; theoretically, I have no soul to gain or lose. I would like to believe that I have one for I feel things as most humans do...love, anger, hatred, passion." A far away look clouded his eyes. "I believe we do not lose our souls; we only think we do, and the idea that we are eternal makes us believe our actions will have no consequences. We think we are fallen and, therefore, act fallen. When you give someone extreme power and no consequences, the way they act is usually contrary to the greater good. Hence vampires are considered soulless: not because they don't have a conscience, but because they have the luxury to ignore it." He smirked. "Maybe it is that we are not burdened with inhibitions. I feel no remorse when I feed, for it is what I need to do to survive. There are always larger predators in the world, copile, ones that would not hesitate to end you."

Thinking of Ronald Weasley, Snape's fury grew. "And what if I enjoy the kill, what if I revel in it? Does what I have left of my soul fracture and become irreparable?"

"Mindless killing is forbidden," the older vampire informed him imperiously. "Despite what the human society as a whole thinks, we do have a moral compass. It would be foolish to deplete our food supply, would it not? Though I doubt you will engage in this behaviour, let it be known that the punishment is swift and you will meet whichever deity you wish to believe in." He gentled his words. "To answer your question, though, perhaps it would be better to think of it as savouring a dining experience. You enjoyed yourself when you consumed solid food, yes?" At Snape's nod, he continued. "In reality, once your hunger is sated, the drive to kill is suppressed a great deal. If you were to persist in hunting for sport, it would be on your own conscience."

"I understand." Severus stroked the sire mark on his neck, which in hindsight brought him comfort in times of extreme distress. "Ronald will be a pleasure to end, but what of others?"

"All great princes or kings retained their rule due in large part to the rationale of killing their enemies before they had the chance to impart the same courtesy. It is a defensive strategy that has kept our clans and covens numbers at an acceptable level. Otherwise, we would be overpopulating the world with vampires... or corpses, depending on who carried the antigen." Radu grimaced somewhat. "All those who possess the antigen must be turned by their twenty-first birthday."

Snape gripped the armrest, slightly alarmed. "Why?"

Sorrow filled Radu's eyes, which had returned to their dark brown state. "If they are not turned, they start to deteriorate, as the antigen begins converting their genetic code, regardless. They must have an exchange of vampire blood before the third day after their birthday or..."

"Or what?" he growled when Radu did not continue.

"They die from haemolytic anaemia," the vampire answered quietly. "Sadly, more often than not this happens, as their mate may take longer to find them. It is a ghastly sight, and I do not wish it for your Hermione."

"You keep telling me she is my Hermione," he huffed. "Why is she mine? Why can't you turn her?"

Averting his gaze, Radu ached for his child. "I had a suspicion she was carrying the antigen while still in the Shack and confirmed it when I touched her skin; it has a distinct odour, like a pheromone. When I touched you both, I could actually see the bond between you. I cannot convert her...she is not my soul mate, and if I were to try, I would kill her in the process."

Severus snorted in disbelief. "She is nothing but an overachiever and know-it-all, with an unhealthy dose of officiousness. There is no bond between us other than that of student and beleaguered professor."

Radu shook his head. "You do not understand," he corrected harshly. "Having tasted your blood, I have shared your memories, your thoughts and wishes. As your sire, I will and do know things concerning your existence, such as your preference for those of Celtic descent whose blood warms you like no other, or that you find Muggle chess relaxing but hate Wizards chess because it is taxing on your frayed nerves at the end of the day. You have a deeply rooted sadistic side that you show only when your emotions run high, and your fingers twitch at the scent of Miss Granger's hair."

Paling further with every observation, Snape shoved his chair back, ready to rise and flee from the blatant intrusion into his privacy. Radu's hand on his shoulder prevented his movements.

"If you do not turn her," he snarled, leaning into his fledgling's face, "you condemn yourself to walk this earth alone... forever. No companion will ever be good enough, no lover's caress soft enough, and you will always pine and ache for her. If you thought the loss of your beloved Lily was excruciating, try multiplying it a hundredfold and add to that the guilt that you could have prevented such pain if you'd only converted her."

"How do you know?" the wizard countered with a sneer.

"Because my beloved died in my arms," Radu whispered hoarsely. "She refused to let me turn her, to taint her innocence with my supposed wretchedness." He closed his eyes in agony. "Not a day goes by that I don't wish I'd been selfish and converted her, heedless of her desires."

For the first time in his 'new' life, Severus regretted his thoughtlessness. Of course, he'd regretted many things in his human life, the loss of Lily's friendship being prominent among them. But when he realized what he'd become...a vampire...he'd taken it with a grain of salt and adapted quickly, as it was the means to survival. He hadn't lamented his situation or wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he'd hated not having all the details. It's what had started his migration towards Romania, following his instincts, though it had taken him the better part of three years to arrive here.

He really was grateful to Charlie Weasley for finding him, drawing nourishment from a tethered goat that fateful night, unaware that the goat was supposed to lure a dragon from its lair. When the redhead had approached him, yelling at him to 'get the bloody hell away from the evening meal', Snape had followed his instincts and latched onto Weasley instead, drinking from his neck until the man had fainted. It had been the first human blood he'd tasted, and it had exploded with flavour and passion that had filled him with a compulsion to try it again, especially after the diet of rats and other small mammals he'd been living on since his turning.

When Charlie had awoken hours later that same night, Snape had quietly cleaned him up and promised the lad that he wouldn't take another sip, no matter how much he wanted to. This had caused the ginger man to faint once more and never wake again that night. Severus had stowed himself away in a hidey hole near what he'd assumed was Weasley's tent when twilight had graced the predawn hours. Not only had he been able to feel the oncoming lethargy from the sun's steady rise but he'd also sensed and smelled it. Living on lesser prey had clouded his senses, dulled his reaction time, so more than once he was caught out and about when the first rays had broken the horizon. With human blood in his system, however, everything had been heightened...taste, smell, sight, hearing... everything.

Apparently judging that he could trust Snape, Weasley had agreed to help him find any nearby vampire covens, disregarding his own work duties in the process. Had Charlie not agreed to help him, Snape would have possibly still been wandering aimlessly in search of his rightful coven.

"I regret my hasty words, Radu," Severus muttered, looking away.

Closing his eyes in apparent relief, the centuries-old vampire nodded. "That is good to hear. Blood is too precious to waste, and human blood is full of memories, hopes, and dreams; that is the reason it is so rich and sweet. When you 'blood bond' with your Anhelo Nex, she will come to embody all that you desire: physical, emotional, and sexual nourishment." He opened his eyes and gave Snape a wickedly sensual smirk. "She may even orgasm at the thought of your feeding from her."

If Snape had it in him to blush profusely, he would have. "Are you quite sure..."

"Yes," Radu cut him off in a tone that brooked no argument. "If you do not turn her, you condemn her to death and yourself to a lonely existence." Seeing his child squirm somewhat, he gentled his voice. "Is that what you want? To never know the connection of another?"

Contemplating his choices, Severus came to the conclusion that while he didn't relish the idea of being stuck with Miss Granger for time in memoriam, he also didn't think he could sentence her to death, especially if he were to be her saviour. She was too intelligent by half, though he loathed admitting it, and he probably would never tell her so. Well, maybe after a century or two had passed, then he might give her some sort of praise. If what Radu was promising was indeed fact, he could perceivably come to enjoy his 'after' life, even with Miss Granger dogging his heels.

"I will find Miss Granger and discuss this with her," Snape finally acquiesced.

"Excellent." Radu clapped his hands. "Now, to this business of that red dog in the Shack. He is the one that brought you here, no?"

"No, actually," Severus corrected. "Charles Weasley is Ronald's brother, and I daresay the most interesting of the lot of over-breeding nitwits."

"There is more than one of those ugly tâmpiţi alive? Why did you not kill him?" Radu frowned. "Ah, but forgive me, you did not realize his deception until this evening."

"Yes," Snape confirmed, his eyes narrowing in building anger. "He Obliviated me to save Miss Granger from my dastardly clutches." A feral smile grew on his lips. "I will enjoy his evisceration."

"Have you given thought to the possibility that, if these Weasleys are so many as you said and one of them were to fall, another might take his place to exact revenge?"

Clenching his fingers into a fist until his knuckles were white, Snape's nostrils flared. "I will kill them all!" he snarled, his fangs descending, though his blood lust was satisfied.

"Patience, copile," Radu soothed. He cocked his head to the right as if listening for something. "You will have your chance momentarily."

Two minutes later, there was a loud thud, like a heavy door was slammed shut. Then a scuffle sounded in the immediate area, followed by several yelps for assistance, which were abruptly silenced. Bujor soon appeared, dragging Charlie Weasley behind him, tied up and sporting at least five sets of fang marks over various parts of his body, blood oozing from each bite.

"This puşlama was hard to track, stăpâne," Bujor panted. "For his bulk he is very agile."

"Sod off!" Charlie shouted. He tried a running head-butt since his arms were bound, but Bujor sidestepped him and laughed when Charlie went sprawling to land at Snape's feet.

"Well?" Radu looked expectedly at Severus with raised eyebrows. "He is one of them." He rose and walked over to the young man, bending low and picking the redhead up by the scruff of his sweaty neck. "Kill him."

Looking down his nose at the man who'd been his companion for the past few days, mindful of the life debt he owed the young man, Snape felt his anger abate somewhat. "Are there no other options?" he asked quietly.

"He has seen too much of our coven," Radu declared in a hardened voice. "There are only two options for one such as him."

Snape peered into his former student's eyes, seeking any malice or ill-will towards him as a professor... or a vampire. Though Charlie struggled against his captors, Severus only found that Weasley contained a good character and a loyal, if misguided, heart. "What are the options?"

"Go fuck yourself!" he growled at Snape. "Guess what everyone back home said is true: you can't be trusted and you're nothing but a coward."

Ignoring the man's outburst, including the word he hated most, Snape looked to his sire once more, waiting for him to explain what could possibly be Charlie's fate should he choose to spare him.

"Completely drained which would result in his death, or..." Radu paused to study the surly redhead, "a familiar."

"What is the purpose of a familiar?"

"There are some tasks that you will not be able to perform due to your vampiric nature," Radu explained, tightening his grip on Charlie's nape. "Familiars aid you in your night-to-night living...dispatching enemies, reconnaissance, handling duties that require discretion," he said with a knowing look. "Plus, they can be enthusiastically vicious minions with superior strength, able to vanquish your rivals."

Charlie began struggling in earnest now apparently against both ideas. Turning to Snape, he pleaded, "Just Obliviate me; I won't remember!"

It was the wrong thing to ask of the former Headmaster. A decidedly wicked smile spread across his face. "Familiar, definitely."

Rubbing his chin, Radu nodded. "Very wise." He barked some instructions to Bujor, who had been standing off to the side awaiting his lord's pleasure, and handed Weasley over to him. "Prepare him."

"No! Snape! You traitor!"

Frowning, the dour wizard-cum-vampire strode to where Bujor held Charlie restrained, stopping to wrap his long, calloused fingers around the redhead's throat and delighting when the young man's pulse hiked in response. "I'm repaying the life debt I owe you, Mister Weasley," he informed him in a deceptively quiet tone. "I'm keeping you alive to serve me, which is more than I can say for what will happen to your family."

What colour Charlie still had drained from his face. "What do you mean?" he whispered his voice choked with panic.

Threading his fingers through the spiky red hair, Snape gripped his locks until the young man gritted his teeth in pain. "Your foolish brother signed your family's death-warrant the moment he Obliviated me three years ago."

~*~

"And then, for our honeymoon, we can..."

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes at Ron's continuous droning. So far, he'd planned their wedding, went into great detail about the guest list, and explained how yellow would be a wonderful colour for bridesmaid dresses. Ha! What a horrid colour! Then, he'd proceeded to tell her how many children he expected them to have, and in how many years.

The arrogant prick! She felt ten kinds of foolish to have allowed him to sleep on her couch all those nights, to have listened to his sob stories about his family, Harry's frequent absences from the Wizarding world, and work, to have thought that he'd been any kind of friend to her. If only she could free herself, she would show him exactly what she thought of him... multiple times.

"We could live at the Burrow until we get a place of our own," Ron suggested. "Mum would love to have us."

Oh, Hades' toenails! She couldn't imagine any kind of life under the thumb of Molly Weasley, and she'd commit suicide before such a thing would ever come to fruition.

"Harry told me there's an entry-level position in the Auror department that I could apply for, and he'd give his recommendation to have them accept me. Can you imagine it, Hermione? Partners with Harry once again! Or when he gets back, that is."

In your dreams, you imbecile with the willpower of a marshmallow. Looking back on her years with Ron, she came to an interesting, but unsurprising revelation. He was a slippery, manipulative, unreliable reality-dodger with delusions of adequacy and an addiction to sentimentality and self-destruction. She should've detailed all his conversations with a Dictocord Spell, for anytime there had been anything mutually agreed on two minutes prior, he would utterly deny it a few minutes later, going so far as to say that he hadn't even been in the room when the conversation had taken place. He was nothing more than a weak-willed sensationalist with a penchant for moaning about the intolerable pressure the world put upon him.

"After the fifth child, we can..."

There was a rather forceful knock on her flat door that interrupted his unrealistic musings.

"Huh... wonder who that could be," he said, frowning as he left her side.

Striding out of her bedroom, he rounded the corner and stopped to peer through the peek-hole in the door, dropping his jaw in shock. Unlocking the three Muggle bolt locks Hermione had in place and dismantling the wards, he opened the door to see his brother standing there.

"Charlie!" Ron threw his arms around the other man and hugged him tightly. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Charlie grimaced but stepped over the threshold. "Well, you know what they say: must leave home in order to appreciate it."

"Too right." Ron glanced at Hermione's bedroom then back to his brother with a confused look. "What brings you here? I thought you would've headed to the Burrow?"

An intense look overcame Charlie, and he immediately straightened his posture, becoming rather imperious and overbearing in appearance. "You've been a naughty boy, Ronnikins," he hissed menacingly.

"Bloody hell, Charlie... what's wrong with you?" He started backing away, but the front of his jumper was snatched by his older sibling, who twisted the material in a grip so tight Ron thought he would pass out from lack of air.

"Nothing is wrong, Mister Weasley," drawled an ominous voice from the entryway.

Ron's eyes bulged in abject terror while he gasped for breath and tried to fight off his brother's hold. A dark wizard strode forward, dressed in something other than his usual black attire and a sinister smile etched on his dour face.

"Snape!"