Monsters by Nightfall

Dumbledore was an unbelievably nosy fella.

When people took an objective glance at the headmaster, they saw a man, withered by age, his head embedded in white long hair, on top as well as on his chin and cheeks. Nobody could miss the weirdly colorful-looking robes or the half-moon glasses, the man usually peered over. Most even saw that all-known twinkle in his eyes that made the man look like he was up for any joke.

Whoever knew Dumbledore more closely -knew of his abilities and accomplishments- saw a powerful wizard feared by the strong and loved by the weak, able to lead a whole army of witches and wizards wherever he pleased. Some described him as manipulative in his ways, while others were assured he only did what had to. Overall they saw someone wise and brilliant.

Severus, however, saw the annoyingly curious man, who loved putting his nose where it didn‘t belong, therefore, making Severus‘ life that much harder.

Of course, that nosiness had won him the war, and Severus was no stranger to stalking down hallways in search of secrets, but he couldn’t help but hate that trait about his old friend. Especially when it was so often directed at him.

This assessment was proven right once again, when Severus was dragged out of his study - where he had been researching for the last few days in desperate search for a cure for his godson- by the headmasters’ summon, for a meeting in the man’s office.

As one might imagine, Severus wasn’t too excited to be standing here. The same tenseness he had felt as a student when sent to the headmasters' office, He felt now, catching himself fidgeting self-consciously. He finally stood inside the large office, brushing his hair - a little ashen from the Floo powder- back out of his face.

“What is it that you want, Albus?”
These were the first rather rude words Severus spoke upon entering the headmasters' office.
The old man sat behind his desk, Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet Phoenix, was shifting on the bird stand next to him. Both of them eyed the potion master closely. Only one of them broke out into a friendly smile, however. And it wasn’t the bird.

“Easy, easy Severus. Can’t I invite my good friend for a nice chat over some tea and chess on such a beautiful day?”
Severus looked out of the large window at the mention of the weather.
Dumbledore’s office was so high up that even on such a rainy autumn day, the rain clouds that covered the rest of the castle could be overlooked from up there. The sky was blue and sunlight streaked through the windows, illuminating the office, which made some of the headmaster portraits on the walls squint and murmur curses under their breath.

“Lemon Drop?”
Severus looked back to Dumbledore, who held out a box of yellow candy to Severus, who wrinkled his nose.

“Why am I really here?”
Severus retorted with another question, sitting down on the chair opposite the chessboard on Dumbledores’ desk. With a flick of the older man’s wand, two tea cups hopped from a tray not far away, as if running from the teapot that followed shortly after, all three settled in front of the professors.
„Earl grey, as usual, I presume?“
Severus nodded shortly, looking at his own teacup weirdly. It seemed to be staring back accusingly.

Dumbledore smiled up at him ominously, before he ordered one of the milk jugs to fly above the cups, depositing the fluid inside.

All the while Severus turned towards the chess table not far to his right where Dumbledore made the first of the black pawns move forward.

“I visited Draco Malfoy in the hospital wing this morning. The poor boy hasn’t woken up in a few days now.”
Dumbledore finally informed him of the matter, throwing Severus a curious glance. Severus’ face revealed nothing while he ordered his pieces to move in perfect sync with Dumbledore’s.
The headmaster seemed to be waiting for a reply, or some sort of acknowledgment, so Severus let out a noncommittal grunt.

Dumbledore stroked his cup lightly, making it purr, and went on.
“His mother has written to me, she was quite concerned. She wants to enforce severe consequences on the Finnegan boy, he was in a fight with.”
“And you need my opinion on that?”
Severus finally spoke.
Dumbledore pulled up one eyebrow.

Severus repressed a sigh. what did Dumbledore expect him to say? So he argued: “Well, whatever happened landed one of the participants in the hospital, so the whole thing shouldn’t go over unpunished I believe.”

Narcissa had written Severus a letter as well. She had sounded quite concerned, indeed, but Severus hadn’t been able to offer her anything either. He knew the runes on the boy's arm of course. Had tried to warn Draco of their unknown nature. but that didn’t seem to have worked out too well.

“Nobody seems to know the cause of the incident. I questioned the other fourth-years who were present, but nobody could tell me the details. Nobody heard any hexes being spoken either. very ominous isn’t it? I was wondering if you might have any knowledge of it.”

Dumbledore not so subtly poked. Severus tightened his occlumency-shields.
“I am afraid I have no information about what happened to Draco yet. I wasn’t on duty that morning as you know. We will of course be able to question him as soon as he wakes up. As of now, however, my knowledge is limited in this matter.”

Dumbledore ordered another chess piece to move.
“I see Severus. Thank you for your honesty. I was merely curious if you had any insights given your… Proximity to the situation.”
Severus stopped himself from shifting uncomfortably this time.
“Your proximity to your godson in particular.”

The nosy asshole knew exactly that Severus wasn’t telling him the entire truth. But Snape was a trained spy, he wasn't gonna budge.
“Draco is a very bright young man. One of many reasons why he doesn’t tell me everything. Is there anything else I can assist you with, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Dumbledore sent him a peculiar smile.
“Very well then. There are some things I wanted to discuss before the arrival of our guests this Weekend."

“Has Durmstrang finally sent you the planned day of their arrival? Do tell.”

—

Severus was usually a very composed person. Talking down on first years and Gryffindors, strangely gave him a sort of serenity. Normally anyway.

But right now Severus was stressed out of his mind. He hadn’t been this stressed since his own OWLs back in the day when he had been living two lives at once while having to excel academically.

He barely slept, haunted by the pale form of his godson and all possible outcomes if he did not succeed in waking him again.

The blood infusion he had given Draco at least seemed to help to bring colour back to his pale fallen features but still, there was no sign of him waking again.
Poppy Pomfrey, even though a comforting presence, was no big help in the endeavor, other than confirming that this was no usual sickness, nothing she’d ever come across before. Protective of his godson's secret, Severus had sent her away pretty quickly after learning she wouldn’t be much of a help.

Something was severely wrong, Severus knew. But no spell seemed to do anything, no book seemed to entail anything useful either. Most books on vampiric maladies and illnesses were only descriptions by outsiders that barely contained enough knowledge to categorize their findings as facts. And if so, that knowledge mostly resulted from an autopsy of the vampire's corpse. Other entries were entirely theory or second-hand accounts of the truth.

He knew who had the information. Vampires stored most knowledge within their own ranks. Sharing their stories and secrets from generation to generation, mouth to mouth.

What Severus needed was an old vampire who knew what to do. Knew how to help Draco.

The only problem, was Severus didn’t know any vampires. Especially since most were hunted for parts or out of wizard-kind fear, making them stay away from society. There were, of course, laws in place against the termination of vampires, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still being treated like criminals. Sometimes even more than Werewolves.

Most couldn’t hold down normal jobs, making it hard to afford legal means of acquiring blood in urban areas.

Another issue: no vampire in their right mind was gonna help him. They didn’t trust witches and wizards and were probably going to suck him dry before he was able to tell them of his misfortune.

So it was, without a doubt, his sleep deprivation that lured Severus Snape to the Forbidden Forest on this unusually freezing Thursday night.

Severus had heard Hagrid talking about the animals that had been found drained of blood only a few weeks ago. Severus had of course assumed that Draco had just gotten a little sloppy, but since Draco’s blood clearly showed that he had, unknowingly or not, been starving himself of any blood whatsoever, the only other explanation was that more vampires were residing in these parts of Scotland. Specifically, the Forbidden Forest.

By all means, it wasn’t the first time that a vampire coven had plagued the woods around Hogwarts, one of the many reasons for all the shields that held out anyone who didn’t belong.

In an attempt to protect himself from unwanted attacks, Severus had gone through his notes again. There was at least one benefit of having analyzed a vampire (well technically a half vampire) for the past few years. Severus was definitely confident he knew what he was up against.

The walk towards the spot where Hagrid had found the drained animals was relatively short, but Severus still had to reapply the warming spell twice to keep warm properly in the weather.

It wasn’t hard to find the spot, even with the snow that had started to fall all around, which obscured many landmarks that Severus usually recognized on his gathering routes through the forest. The difficult part, however, wasn’t finding the spot but going from there. There were a thousand different magical signatures of just as many different beasts, creatures, and beings, making it hard to single out such an old one.

But of course, as always, Severus came prepared.

The weird artifact Lucius had sent him, roared to life with a simple flick of Severus’ wand.
It was an old and rusty silver and bronze box, the dust and grime that coated the metal one of the many signs of its age.
If not for its palm-fitting size, it reminded Severus of one of those typewriters his father had used, back in the day when he had still worked.

Before Tobias Snape had spent his time drowning himself in liquor and hitting his son and wife if they got too close during one of the muggle's bad moods.

It didn’t, however, have all the funny little keys on it, since you weren’t able to type anything into it. You could merely point it towards one of the colorful travel lines indicated by the earlier cast location spell, to let it identify the species and name of the traveler, which the typewriter would punch into the parchment display with its little metal arms.

After a while of searching, it finally identified a vampire trail. Too mingled with others and distant to define, but still there. And since Severus didn’t really have many options, he trusted the little box in his hands. Following the device north.

Maybe he should’ve been alert as soon as the trace strengthened, maybe he should’ve reapplied his protection spells or eaten another clove of garlic. In hindsight, Severus should’ve told someone he was coming here. Or at least send out his patronus.

All those were things the potions master thought about, when he heard the minimal movement on his right, making him stop dead in his tracks. The quiet noise was the only indicator the half-blood got, before something with the force of a thousand spells hit him from the side in a brutal tackle, something sharply colliding with his head. And then there was nothing but the cold snow around him coupled with the pain and shock, knocking him into sleep.

-

Voices slowly roused Severus from his slumber.
His head was pounding and he could feel blood oozing out from a wound somewhere around his head. He couldn’t decipher where the pain was coming from exactly since his head was just a ball of pain all around. There was the smell of iron in the air and other than the whispering behind him, there was an eery silence about his surroundings.
Oh, Merlin.
Had he been bitten?
“What the hell did you do?”
“I’m sorry, I thought he was another hunter!”
“Dressed like this?”

As far as Severus could tell the voices belonged to two different people, one voice higher, another lower, who stood not far from him to the right. Severus couldn’t move his head enough to turn towards them, but he didn’t have to distinguish the anger with which they spat at one another. Why was he feeling so sluggish?

“Well he reeked of garlic what was I supposed to think? Only hunters are clueless enough to feel protected by that stuff.”
“Humans eat that all the time, that doesn’t disprove your incompetence!”
“Well, I didn’t kill him.”

“No, you just dragged his unconscious body into camp without even thinking about the consequences.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t done all this for the last hundred years like you. Wallowing in self-pity and talking down on others isn’t my expertise like it is yours. You can’t blame me for slipping up once!”
“Once you say? What about-“
A third voice joined. This one was even deeper than the second. Curious, Severus hadn’t heard any footsteps nearing. Neither had the other two it seemed.
“Tristan, Naomi, keep quiet, you’re gonna wake the kids. What is all this yelling about? why is there a wizard in the camp?”

“It was my fault, sir. I jumped him in the forest, thinking he was another one of the poachers we apprehended weeks ago.”
“What is he then, if not a poacher?”

“Severus.”
Severus grumbled against the dirt underneath. Had he lost his mind? Or had they done something to him? Other than biting him of course. His tongue was still just as sluggish as his body, but it still made him speak, almost as if on its own. Prompted by something Severus couldn’t ascertain.

“What was that?”
“Seems like your wizard is waking.”
“Did you bite him?”
“No. I wasn’t dumb enough to kill him, Just knocked him out, so he shouldn’t be a risk until we’ve decided what to do with him.”

So he wasn’t gonna turn into a vampire? Hopefully? Would a bite kill him then?

“He’s probably from that school, up by the lake.”
“A teacher judging by his age.”
“And that horrid smell. Is that bezoar?”
“Get the King, he’ll know what to do.”

Hold on, King? There was a Monarchy in place here? Why was there no talk of that anywhere?

“But…”
“I wasn’t asking you. I don’t care whether this will put you at his mercy. You disregarded orders.”
“Disregarded using your brain more like it.”
“Go.”

The rest of the conversation sank into the background when the two vampires moved out of earshot. Oddly enough there were no footsteps to be heard only flapping of wings whisking in the wind.

After a few moments of silence, making sure there was no one around, Severus finally tried to move, wriggling his toes, to test their response. Even if it was a little delayed, and he still felt weird, Severus was relieved by their reaction, pressing against his boot in the same pattern he’d ordered. At least he could be sure that he wasn’t paralyzed. Honestly, he had no idea what that vampire had done to him but he’d said he hadn’t bitten Severus. But why should he take a vampire's word for it?

With a bit more effort Severus raised his arm towards his neck, checking for injuries, while he fought with gravity to get into a sitting position.

From this new vantage point, Severus could finally look around, though there wasn’t much to look at.
The darkness around him was vast, and if it wasn’t for the moonlight shining through the tree line above he wouldn’t have known the trees from the space in between.

After staring into the distance for a moment, however, eyes adjusting to the lack of light, Severus did discover a golden glow coming from a structure not so far away.

At first glance the structure looked more like an assembly of stones, the entry of a cave perhaps, but when Severus put his weight on his left arm just so he was able to peer around the tree in front of him, he could discern the ruins of a house. At a second glance, it seemed more like a castle, with some of the stone walls still intact, it’s three stories - every story disintegrating more and more the higher you looked, with molding floorboard and almost non-existent exterior formation on the third floor - reaching up alongside the tree trunks around. Only a few bits of the roof still seemed to be intact, and even with the help of magic keeping everything together, it was only a matter of time till it all collapsed on itself, Severus reckoned. One of the medieval towers to the right, however, seemed to be relatively intact still, with only a few stones missing.

The glow of light that illuminated the ruined entrance, (less than an entrance even, just an old collapsed doorway) came from a group of fairies, making themselves at home in the plants and bushes over-growing the ruin beautifully.
Gazing at them made Severus think of the fairies that lived near the lake. He suddenly remembered spending warm summer nights looking at their dance from afar. Lily’s auburn hair shimmering in the light.

Severus shook the thought away concentrating yet again on the ruin. Suddenly people were coming out of it, seemingly used to bending a certain way to pass through the door easily. The trees were blocking most of their features, but what Severus was sure of, is that they were headed towards him.

For a split second, Severus considered running away, but on another thought, he was here because he had wanted to be. He needed help, and running wasn’t going to give him any answers.

So, on shaky legs, and with the help of the tree trunk behind him, Severus stood up.

Suddenly a shower of bats flew down from the sky enveloping Severus in a cloud of wings and darkness, making him falter, sinking back to where he’d sat just minutes before.
As if that had been the bats’ goals they stopped crowding him as fast as they had begun and instead seemed to spread out. Two of them landed right in front of Severus on a low-hanging tree branch with a flourish. Out of nowhere, the bat forms vanished and two vampires stood before Severus, shortly joined by the two who had only just left the ruin, moments ago.
Looking up at the four figures above, Severus couldn’t recognize anything or anyone other than four pairs of blood-red eyes.

“No need to leave us so soon. We haven’t even had the chance to ask you for some feedback. Maybe you could fill out a short survey before you go.”
“Stop playing with our food.”

“I’m no poacher, just a teacher. And I’m not here to hurt you or hunt you. I need your help! You have to believe me. My godson is in grave danger.”
Had he ever sounded this pathetic in his life? Unlikely. Did he care, yes but he had to ignore that. He didn’t plan on dying today.

“Don’t be afraid mortal one. Apology for Our king, he’s not really a fan of wizards, and we don’t usually get visitors up here.”
Severus looked up towards the so-called king.
He still couldn’t make out any of their faces, but the king seemed to be the vampire standing in the middle, his blond hair illuminated by the backdrop of the moon, and instead of the all-around red eyes of his peers, his pupils were the only red part.

“What could a Hogwarts Professor need help with?”
The king spoke, fixing Severus with a dead-eyed stare. His voice sounded young and somehow familiar to Severus' ears, though he wasn’t sure where he had heard it before.
“Who are you? What brings you here?”
The vampire asked further, stepping up to him in order to intimidate him.
“Severus. Severus Sn-“
“Snape? Snivellus? I thought for sure you’d end up in prison. How in Salazar's name did you become a teacher?”

Severus stared at the king, really looked at him. Other than the marauders, who were all either dead, in prison, or definitely not vampire kings, there hadn’t been many to ever call him Snivellus.
There had been Regulus Black, missing, Pandora Rosier, dead, Barty Crouch Jr., definitely dead, and-
“Evan fucking Rosier.”
“Well, you took your time.”