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Neville Longbottom is stopped on his way out of the Potions' classroom-and by his feared Bogart no less-Severus Snape. But there's more to Professor Severus Snape than it seems...on account that a pair of gleaming fangs are in the mouth of the Potions' Master! Will Neville ever survive without a scar on his neck, or end up as the Professor's meal?
Biting Thru The CowardsEdit
“Not so quick, Mr. Longbottom.”
Neville winced and froze midstep, about to head out the door of the Potions’ classroom. He regretfully let the door swing slowly shut, barely able to manage turned around-only to find himself face-to-face with Professor Severus Snape. Snape scowled at Neville, his arms crossed and his cold, pitch-black eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Y-yes, P-Professor S-Snape?” Neville stammered nervously, trembling slightly in the presence of his nerve-wracking Professor.
After several silent seconds, Snape’s scowl suddenly twisted into a wide smirk-and as his cold, pitch-black eyes flashed with strange thirst and hunger, Neville’s hazel eyes widening with fear as he stiffened-just as four, sharp and deadly fangs began to elongate and lengthen out of the Potions’ Professor’s mouth.
“You know, Longbottom, I’ve always wondered if Gryffindor’s tasted as appetizing as they look.” Snape snickered, licking his lips slowly.
Neville trembled, his hazel eyes wide with terror. “Please don’t suck my blood, Professor Snape! Please don’t kill me!” Neville suddenly begged, backing up against the the wall by the closed door, his trembling hands clasped together.
“Is this what you call control? Is this what you call bravery? Is this what you call being a Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom?” Snape growled, moving toward Neville until he pinned him against the wall completely.
“You need a true attitude adjustment, Neville-and who am I, not to give it to you?”
Snape inhaled Neville’s rich, oaky and fear-filled scent, his mouth watering as he felt his fangs lengthen.
“Please, Professor Snape! I’ll do anything! Anything you want!” Neville begged as Snape grinned sinisterly and slowly licked his lips, leaning slightly toward the seventeen-year-old boy.
The Vampire Professor paused as if in deep thought, before suddenly gripping Neville’s arm and yanking him away from the wall.
“Come with me, Longbottom.” He growled, pulling Neville toward the front row of desks in the Potions’ classroom, swiftly pushing Neville into one of the seats, where a Potions’ book, an empty cauldron, a small knife, untouched ingredients, and several unused Potions and empty vials lay.
“Prove to me that you are worthy enough not to die, Neville Longbottom. We’ll settle on a deal. Construct and drink a Potion to keep me at bay using the time allowed in a regular class. If the Potion is correct, you will go free without a bloody neck. If not…I’m sure you’d provide an easy and exceptionally delicious meal, Mr. Longbottom.” Snape snickered, crossing his arms and baring his fangs as he now moved to stand in front of the desk Neville sat at.
Neville gulped and trembled, daring to meet the Vampire Professor’s thirsty, pitch-black eyes. Snape smirked at the terrified Gryffindor before turning sharply and shuffling into his office thru the open door, which he slammed shut as he entered with a sharp bang.
Neville just sat there in his stunned and terrified silence in his seat. In less than about forty minutes, he’d have to construct a Potion to keep Snape at bay-if he did so, he’d go free. If not, he’d be the Vampire’s neck meal. Hermione wasn’t here to help him make the Potion, and Harry wasn’t here to hex the Professor and save him.
Neville was on his own and helpless unless he attempted the Potion. He hesitated for a moment before reaching forward with a shaky hand and beginning to flip thru the pages of the Potions’ book-only to find a page labeled, ‘Vampire Warding Draught’.Anxiously, Neville scanned the page for any sort of help.
Vampire Warding Draught
-2 Cloves of shredded Garlic
-3 Crushed Snake Fangs
-10 Drops of Holy Water
-Half-Vial of Chicken blood
-Half-Vial of Salamander blood
-Powered root of Asphodel
-2 Drops of Honeywater
-1 Drop of POTION MAKER’S BLOOD
Step 1-Add and shred 2 cloves of Garlic and dump them into your cauldron
Step 2-Add and crush 3 Snake Fangs with the flat side of your blade and dump them into your cauldron
Step 3-Add 10 drops of Holy Water into your cauldron and begin to stir clockwise to mix with Garlic and Snake Fangs
Step 4-Add half a vial of Chicken blood and stir clockwise
Step 5-Add half a vial of Salamander blood and stir clockwise like Step 4
Step 6-Add powered root of Asphodel into your cauldron
Step 7-Add 2 drops of Honeywater and mix with powered root of Asphodel
Step 8-Add a drop of POTION MAKER’S BLOOD and mix together to complete the Potion
Step 9-Drink and watch Vampires keep themselves at bay from your blood
Neville seemed to freeze at reading the last ingredient and Step 8 of the page.
He’d have to cut himself and add a drop of his own blood to the Potion-while Snape might be in the room when he did it, or if he even got that far before his time was up and he became the Vampire’s meal.
Neville paused for a moment before taking in a deep breath and reaching for the first ingredient to the Vampire Warding Draught.
Neville winced as he took the sharp tip of the knife and pricked the skin of his arm as he held it over the simmering cauldron, which emitted a faint, blood-red smoke.
One lone drop of blood dripped into the cauldron, and Neville pulled his arm back before wiping off the blood of the stained knife.
Neville pulled out his wand and muttered a spell, allowing the small and bleeding slice in his skin to heal up in a matter of seconds. He then hesitated for a moment before looking at his simmering cauldron-the Potion was now complete, and hopefully, correct.
Neville reached over and took an empty vial among the others and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it to the brim before taking it out and setting it on the desk in front of him. He then sighed and sat back in his chair, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.
If he had made the Potion correctly, he would live. And if not, he’d be Snape’s next meal.
But, ever so suddenly, as the thought crossed Neville’s mind, and as if on a dreadful cue, the door to Snape’s office creaked open, and out stepped the Vampire that was Severus Snape. Neville stiffened as the Professor’s thirsty, pitch-black eyes strayed toward him, and the Gryffindor instantly straightened up, his fear returning.
“I see you have completed your Potion, Mr. Longbottom. The Vampire Warding Draught. Let’s see if it works.” Snape snickered, slowly walking up to the desk where Neville sat. “Drink it.”
Neville hesitated for a moment before taking the vial of Vampire Warding Draught and bringing the top to his lips; he gulped it down in a matter of seconds. It tasted half-terrible and half-excellent, more like the metallic taste of mingled blood and the strange, yet pleasant taste of Honeywater-a simple mix between the two. Neville lowered the now empty vial of the Potion and set it down on the desk in front of him-seconds before daring to glance up and at the Vampire that was Severus Snape.
The Vampire seemed to pause for a moment before leaning across the desk and inhaling Neville’s scent; once delicious and oaky, the Gryffindor’s scent was that of Holy Water mingled with the metallic scent of Chicken Blood; blood that a Vampire wouldn’t touch due to it’s terrible taste altogether.
The frantic thoughts raced thru Neville’s mind as his heart pounded hard deep within his chest-had he failed?
Then, ever so suddenly, Snape opened his mouth wide and bared his yellowed teeth, allowing his four, sharp and deadly fangs to elongate and lengthen out of his mouth-Neville gasped and flinched back, looking away-but instead of attacking, the Vampire let out a furious and disgusted hiss as he jerked backward, trembling.
“Leave my sight, Neville Longbottom! You have proved me wrong! Leave my sight!” Snape hissed, spitting and hissing at the terrible scent still lingering in his nostrils, flooding his whole mouth as though he had bitten into the coward that was Neville Longbottom.
Neville instantly stood up, turning away toward the door of the Potions’ classroom-but, a second thought crossed his mind, and Neville blindly took the knife from the desk-only to scrape the blade across the skin of his arm, allowing fresh and crimson-red blood to drip into an open and empty vial in front of him, untouched by the Potion.
Then, without a word, Neville ran out of the Potions’ classroom, clutching his bleeding arm and wand as he slammed the door behind him.
He had fulfilled the task and escaped without a bloody neck.