After the bite, Harry had fallen unconscious due to blood loss. The thought of waking had never flitted across his mind. Fortunately, or un-, depending on your point of view, the saviour woke with the dawn, alone and weirdly enough feeling exhilarated. He'd taken several moments to recall the events of the prior evening and when he did, Harry clamped a hand to his neck in subjective horror. The wound, thankfully, had closed, white and shinny. This was yet another scar to add to the impressive, but unseen collection.

But fuck, he felt fantastic. There was the bliss of a hang over but without the disgusting taste in his mouth. Potter couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this whole. Sure Snape had used and abused him, but really, for a former death eater, it was expected.

The vampire part though, that was totally unexpected and the saviour did not appreciate surprises. He despised them in all actuality, and after his stay in Voldemorts layer it wasn't really a question of why. There where rumours about Snape in Harry's school days, there always are, but no one had ever believed them. Except maybe Neville Longbottom.

The saviour left the room of requirement feeling both terrified and terrible. He could still remember Snape whispering to him in germen. It sent shivers down his spine, he wasn't sure whether they were of pleasure or terror. Both would have been equally appalling.

He left Hogwarts without talking or seeing anyone, a clean break. Moving to the edges of the wards, he apparated away to his lonely and desolate apartment.

In the next few days, Harry didn't feel the need to drink, or even smoke. He felt a different craving. But he knew only one man could take away the urge inside him. The one man he wanted never to see again. But the saviour was desperate for a release, as well as desperate to make it work without Severus.

He tracked down other vampires, allowing them to bite him in a futile attempt to fill the void. The feeling just wasn't the same; he'd had to stake the vampires, usually doing so in a rage. This was just another secrete to be kept from his public.

He went back to drinking, smoking and grinding to a beat, loud beyond anything the eardrum could possibly take, in a club. This eased the craving slightly, but it was always present, just pulsing under the surface. It was like a hunger he couldn't state. The number of bottles he empted, or the number of asses he pounded into, didn't mater; the void was ever present. But it could not compare to the pain of the memories that resurfacing, that were getting harder and harder to repress.

The solution to all his problems, though fairly simple and easy, was not a road he was ready to walk down. Potter was looking into all possible alternatives, before running to follow that one. He knew there would be no turning back once he'd stepped onto that path.

Harry really didn't like ultimatums; he was usually the one getting hurt in the end. But after another gruelling week, this wasn't a choice any more. Nevertheless, the saviour was still human, and like all humans confronted with an awful but unyielding truth he responded with a human reaction. He completely and utterly denied it.

The boy who lived flung himself with even more force into the few pleasures that were left to him. Abandoning his public persona, Potter consumed himself with his pleasures, roughly to the point of despising them. In the space of one night, one hazy mistake, Harry Potter, had destroyed his only hope of happiness. Which left him lost, confused and with only one path left unblocked to travel.

It was an entirely sober saviour that arrived at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry on a bleak afternoon. Although sober, his mind felt muddled and confused; there were no coherent thoughts pressing his mind. There was no pattern to his logic, no reason for his conclusions, and yet they made sense. Searching through his past, his mind concluded that this was the only possible outcome. There was no future for him, other than this path, this end.

Harry entered through the front gates, giving him the finest view of the castle. Hogwarts, the only place Potter had ever considered home, from this perfect vantage point had only ever been seen through a filter of twilight. The light of day affected the atmosphere around the castle certainly, but it could not take away its beauty. Walking through the gates of his own accord, carried dying or unconscious; the castle had never looked more appealing to the young hero. Unexpected as he was, he hastened inside, wasting no time lingering out front. One sweeping glance was all it took to take in its pulsing magnificence, its glowing splendour.

As he walked the long deserted halls of his former school, he realized with absent minded profundity, that there really was no end to it all. It was everywhere, around every corner, it was throbbing just below the surface of every tile lain one before the other. And in this pathetic moment of realization Harry came to understand what every other student who had passed through these halls had known. Hogwarts was magic, that it would not lead him astray. This conclusion made him believe truly that this was the right choice. And in the end that's all there is, choice. Not someone else orders or another persons thoughts or feelings.

It was not determination that sparked the saviour's eye as he strolled down the darkened halls of his home, but simple truth and just a touch of peace. With his scattered thoughts, his illogical answers, and redefined frame of mind; the boy descended into the depths.

The door was far less foreboding then he remembered, it was after all only a portrait. He knocked, and then entered without waiting for the denied entrance he was sure to receive. The chambers were all that he had expected them to be; dark, gloomy, with just a touch of class and culture. It was perfectly Severus Snape.

"I am here," the saviour called out, standing in the doorway.

"As I knew you would be," replied a voice from deep inside the suite.

"Care to step into the light? So I might speak to you face to face?"

"That is not the real reason you wish to speak to me in person." Said the man in a statement rather then a question. The boy said nothing. "Speak the truth and I shall grant your wish," promised the silky voice.

"You know nothing of my wish."

"You want death," answered Snape as he came out of his private lab disregarding his earlier promise. He looked immaculate, as he usually did. There wasn't a single difference from when the boy had met him nine years prior. It really was a mystery how no one had yet noticed the truth.

"I can't take it anymore. The memories, Merlin, the flash backs. The voices, they call to me, asking me to come home. I am home. And yet… and yet, I am not. I have always called Hogwarts my home, but I see now that it never was. This castle is a sanctuary, not a home. I've never had a home. Their offer is just so tempting." Here Harry gave Severus a long measuring look. "And I have never been one to resist temptation. For long anyhow," said Potter, his voice low and controlled, his tone growing warm at the mention of a true home.

"Come to me, I can give you this home you so desire." The boy who lived hesitated only for a moment, knowing in his heart this was the right decision but his mind forever questioned it.

"You cannot cheat the way of the world forever Potter. You were born and so you shall die, as it has always been. Till the end of days." Locked in not a passionate embrace, but a comforting one, the saviour replied.

"Sie wenden sein vergessen. Will you remember me Severus?" the boy looked up, into the eyes of the one that held him close. His expression for once open, innocent, lost and completely vulnerable.

"Who will be there to remember who I was? When the sun wanes and the sky falls from the night?" Continued the boy who'd never grown up.

"I will be there, forever and always, tell the end of all days. I shall be here. Have no fear Mr. Potter; the world shall forget your deeds, your name and your sacrifices in time. But in me, you shall live forever," whispered the vampire.

Harry looked down, unable to meet the potion masters gaze, the offer almost too much to take. Thankful that he needn't express his gratitude in words, he let his deeds speak for him. Action outstripped the meaning of words, and soon thoughts.

"It's all about trust," murmured Snape before he bit in selfishly, his fangs flashing gracefully downwards. He sank into the saviour, knowing full well that this was not what the boy wanted. It was only a taste. After a second Severus let Harry Potter go, his knees weak from the bite, he dropped to the ground, as if a man kneeling before his god.

The saviour gazed up to his god, a pleading look tearing through his expressive orbs.

"You will know pain," his god whispered before first backhanding the boy, the kissing him sweetly, "and pleasure."

Their clothes stayed on only long enough for Snape to rip them off. The potion master bit, licked and scratched every part of Harry' torso he could touch, giving both pain and pleasure equally. He was rewarded by strangled cries and sluggish moans. There was even a softly whispered "Severus," in there somewhere.

Then, without warning, Snape flipped Potter over and drove into him. The boy cried pitifully in pain. Snape bent down to Harry' ear and spoke harshly in German.

Wanting to get away, Harry couldn't take the emotional strain he was being subjected to, attempted to pull away. Only then did Severus bite down on the saviours' neck.

Harry Potter convulsed twice, coming as he died in the arms of his undead lover. The blood pooling from his veins into the mouth of another.

Body white, lips red, face content. The saviour died.

A/N: ok there's the "ending." But I've thought up an alternate ending so I will post a chapter 5. However if you prefer closer, don't read it. Hope you enjoyed, review, don't review at this point its more for my benefit putting this up then yours. Ok well, ta.