The Release

Professor Severus Snape sat at his desk, glancing through a book of Edgar Allen Poe's works. He sighed as he read over a passage for the second time, waiting surprisingly patiently for Padma Patil to show up for detention. The Ravenclaw sixth year had never had a detention with him before, and he off-handedly wondered why she had done what she had done to warrant one then. He shook it off and returned to the book, moving on to another passage rather than repeating the other for a third time.

The heels of Padma Patil's Mary Janes clicked as she walked along the stone corridor to the Potions classroom. She knocked on the heavy oak door timidly. "Professor Snape?"

He didn't look up. "Come in."

Padma took a deep breath and stepped inside. "Good evening, Professor," she said, her right hand playing with the material of her robe as it hung at her side. She dropped her bag into the seat next to her.

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow, still not looking up at her from his reading. "Good evening..."

She swallowed hard and took a few steps forward to approach him at his desk. "I'm here for my detention, sir," she said, involuntarily shuddering at the temperature in the dank classroom.

He slammed the book shut. "Yes...that," he stated, standing suddenly in a swirl of black robes. "Follow me."

"Yes sir," Padma smiled weakly, turning to do as he commanded.

Professor Snape headed toward the classroom's storage closet, which was housed in the far right-hand corner, behind his desk. He opened the door and gestured for his student to enter. The closet was large - large enough to walk into, and the shelves inside it were overflowing with bottles and cauldrons and vials of liquids of every color.

"Miss Patil, I would like you to put the potions on the left hand wall in alphabetical order. If you complete that task, move on to the potions ingredients on the right wall," he instructed sourly. "Do you have any questions in regards to your task?"

Padma shook her head. "Uh...no sir," she said, moving to the left hand wall and examining the bottles. She looked back at her professor. "Sir, what do I do with the unlabeled ones?"

He smirked at her. "You are a sixth year student, Miss Patil. I am sure that you can identify them by sight or smell."

She opened her mouth to speak again but, thinking better of it, closed it again. She nodded. "Of course, sir."

Slowly and carefully, Padma began pulling bottles from the shelves, beginning to already put them into some sort of order. Professor Snape stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. The Ravenclaw sighed. "Professor, are you going to stand there glowering at me all evening? It's quite disconcerting."

Snape blinked, having not realized that he was doing so. "No," he said. "Carry on." He turned away abruptly and stalked over to his desk, pulling out his chair so that he may still keep an eye on her. He made sure, however, that he was just far enough away that he didn't have to be mesmerized by the beating of her pulse.

Padma let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding and turned back to the shelf in front of her, blushing. With her hands on her hips, Padma scanned the line of shelves, thinking of the best way to go about rearranging it all. Finally, she settled on the top shelf to start with and reached up to it. Her 5'3" frame, however, was not tall enough to make it. "Eh, Professor?" she called out. "Do you have a stool?"

He looked up from his desk, nodding. Then, he stood up, grabbed a small stool that had been collecting dust in the corner of the room, and set it down in the doorway of the storage closet. He returned to his desk.

"Thanks," Padma muttered as she sauntered over to the stool and picking it up. She spun around and went back to the shelf, setting it down again. She made a face at the shelves in front of her for a split second before stepping up onto the stool and stretching to reach the top shelf. "Merlin," she sighed, stretching as high as she could. She wrapped her hand around one of the bottles and pulled it down, setting it next to another unlabeled one.

After a few minutes she had rearranged half of the top shelf, which was covered with mostly unlabeled bottles. Still, there was one vial back against the wall left. She reached as far back as she could, using the lower shelves for support. As soon as her fingers grasped the potion, however, she lost her balance, tumbling backward and landing on the floor with a thud. She sighed with relief, realizing the potion was still intact and in her hand.

Snape stood up, peering into the closet. "Miss Patil...do you require assistance?"

She was still on the floor when he walked into the closet. She also had her eyes closed. "Just had a bit of a fall Professor," she said through clenched teeth. "I can't seem to reach the top shelf." She set the glass vial on the ground next to her.

"Are you quite sure that you are not hurt?"

Padma sighed. "I don't know. I haven't tried to stand up yet."

Snape walked over to her, couching down, low to the ground. He muttered something that sounded remarkably like "Merlin save me" under his breath. Then, he looked at her. "Well do you feel any pain at the moment?"

Padma, shuddering a little at her professor's proximity, shook her head. "Uh - uh - no, not really. I think I was just stunned a bit."

Snape frowned. "Do you require assistance to stand?"

She shook her head frantically. "Uh - no. No Professor...I think I'll be alright." She propped herself up on her elbows and then pushed herself to her feet. Unfortunately, she forgot the glass vial sitting on the ground next to her, and she kicked it over, breaking it. "Damn!" she cursed, bending over to pick up the pieces. I'm sorry Professor. I didn't mean -" A piece of glass sliced open her palm. "Ow!"

Snape balked, his dark eyes glued to Padma's bleeding hand. He blinked.

"Professor?"

He swallowed, still staring at her hand hungrily. He didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" she continued. "You look...strange."

Snape took a step toward her. When he spoke, his voice sounded hollow. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't know," she said, backing up and pressing down on her palm to try to stop the bleeding. "Do you have a towel or anything?" Padma's eyes were wide.

Snape smiled at her - a small, evil smile. "I am sure that I can find something for you..."

Padma was still backing up, and before long she found herself smacking right into the shelf behind her, almost knocking its contents over. Snape jumped slightly at the noise, but he turned back to look at her. "How careless, Miss Patil."

"I'm sorry Professor," she said, looking at the door and growing more scared by the moment. "Did you say there's a towel out in the classroom?" she asked suddenly, seizing the moment to dart past him and toward the door.

Snape turned to look after her, but he didn't follow. He was hungry, yes; he hadn't found a decent supply of blood in at least a week, but he wasn't quite hungry enough to advance on Padma...yet.

"Is there a towel out here somewhere?" she called out. Snape could hear her shuffling through his desk drawers. "I'm losing a lot of blood..."

He nodded to himself. Snape could smell the blood oozing from Padma's hand, and he could hear her pulse beating, louder now that she was scared. "Perhaps I can do something for you," he said, almost gliding over to his desk and opening the center drawer, which she had just been about to reach for.

Padma let out a breath, smiling weakly. "Thank you."

Instead of pulling a towel or rag out of the drawer, however, he removed from it his wand. He took a step forward. Padma sucked in a breath, taking a step backward. He advanced again, to compensate. She stared at him. "Let me see the cut on your hand," he offered gently, holding out his own to her.

Padma was shivering slightly, but she extended her arm nonetheless, removing her, now blood covered, uninjured hand.

Snape took her hand in his. His eyes glazed over at the smell of the blood pulsating slowly out of her palm. It dripped luxuriously down to her wrist. He licked his lips as if in a trance.

"Professor...?" Padma squeaked.

Somewhere in the back of Snape's mind, a voice was telling him that he could not lick the blood off of a student's hand and arm and then proceed to bite her and drain her body of the rest of the blood. "Yesssss...?"

"Are you okay...?" she asked, trying to pull her hand away.

Snape blinked again, realizing how strange and creepy he must be acting. He released her hand and backed away slowly. "I...I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

He hissed at her. "Yes, I am sure."

Padma nodded, not entirely believing her professor. Something was wrong with him, and she was concerned, though she didn't really know why. "Do you have that towel?" she asked. She frowned and tapped her foot impatiently, tilting her head to the side, her hair falling away from her neck, exposing the skin.

Snape's eyes were drawn to the vein in her neck. "Oh...towel...yes," he stumbled, his breathing a little bit more labored than normal. "Of course..."

"You sure you're okay?" Padma stepped toward him. "You don't look it."

She reached out a bit toward him, but Snape moaned slightly and stumbled backward. Padma froze. Snape, shaking his head, began to speak. "You...you can perform a simple healing spell, right?"

She swallowed. "Uh - no, not really."

"Well, why not?" he snapped at her suddenly.

"Uh...I just could never master them, sir," she stumbled over her words, her face paling slightly.

Snape bit his lip, and upon doing so, revealed a small bit of his fangs. Padma just stared at his mouth, biting back a yelp. He frowned at her, saying, "What?"

She sucked in a deep breath, unable to move. "You have...um...never mind." Padma was practically paralyzed with fear and surprise, horrified to find that her feet didn't want to move.

He hissed at her, struggling to regain his concentration. "I have what, Miss Patil?"

"Um," she stuttered. "Fangs, sir. Your incisors are..." her eyes widened even more, her face losing almost two shades.

As he watched Padma try in vain to turn and run away, Snape realized that there was only one thing left to do. Pocketing his wand, he grabbed for her wrist suddenly, digging his nails into her skin. Padma gave a small yelp and struggled to pull away. Snape clasped the back of her neck with his other hand and sneered, his fangs clearly visible. She struggled to look away, but he had too great a hold on her.

"It doesn't always pay to be so nosy," he snarled.

Snape leaned forward slightly, his mouth inches away from Padma's hand, which was clenched in one of his own, the blood dripping everywhere. Quickly, he closed his mouth over the cut, sucking as much blood from it as he could.

She gave a sharp intake of breath, unable to take her eyes off of him. "Professor," she objected, quietly. He either didn't hear her or didn't choose to acknowledge her.

Snape ripped his mouth away from her palm and looked at her. His dark eyes were slightly glazed over, and the look he gave her was that of a predator closing in on its prey. He paused for only a moment, and then clamped down on Padma's exposed neck with his fangs, sucking hard.

Padma's eyes closed involuntarily, and she tilted her head neck back, almost to give him better access. She moaned softly, almost seeming to enjoy it. Snape didn't answer. He seemed to be out of his mind, not even realizing that Padma was no longer putting up a fight. At the moment, he rather enjoyed having a willing victim. She let out a small sigh.

Suddenly, she realized what exactly was happening, and she pulled away. "You're not..." she took a deep breath, trying to focus on her words. "...going to kill me, are you?"

The Potions Master pulled away just slightly as if deciding on how to answer her question, but his vampire instinct - that almost animalistic behavior that comes with receiving the curse - had taken over.

"Professor?" Padma squeaked, breathing heavily. Part of her was scared, but another part of her took some perverse pleasure in the feel of him at her neck. Though Padma would never admit it aloud, she had always had a crush on her evil Potions professor. Sure, he was strict, solemn, and an overall greasy-haired git, but Padma had always held some kind of respect for him. He was an intelligent man, and he knew what he was talking about. And sometimes, Padma felt as though she could just sit in class listening to his deep, rolling baritone for hours. Now - now all she could think about was the fact that his mouth was attached to her neck, despite the fact that the pain from his bite was immense.

When it didn't feel as though he'd be relinquishing his hold on her any time soon, Padma began to go into shock. It hit her that she was losing mass amounts of blood, and she began to feel faint.

Putting all of her strength into pushing him away, she began to protest again. "Professor, please!"

But Snape wasn't paying any attention. He was used to his victims protesting and struggling, and he almost took comfort in the fact that she was beginning to show signs of doing so as well.

Padma begin to lose feeling in parts of her body. She grew tired and weary, and she couldn't seem to think straight anymore. "Professor...I...oh Merlin," she sighed, closing her eyes again. "Severus...may I call you Severus?" Somehow, it seemed appropriate considering the intimacy of their embrace, even though it wasn't exactly what could be called romantic or even lustful in any way. "I mean -" she jumped a bit as he began to suck harder, drawing even more blood from her body.

She felt faint, and stumbled backward against the desk, letting out a moan. She tried to push him away but found that she couldn't muster up enough strength to do it.

Snape wrenched Padma up against him, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. She groaned softly, her eyes lulling shut as her legs began to give way beneath her. He finally released her neck from his bite. He had to keep an arm draped around her waist, however, to keep her from crumpling to the floor.

The Potions Master looked down at his student, panting slightly. Her face had almost entirely drained of its color; her normally rosy cheeks now several shades whiter. He glanced down at his own skin, which color had returned to, and the realization and impact of what he had just done fell upon him.