*This is a Snape x OC student fanfic. There will be sex, sexual arousal, violence, and blood.*

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~Chapter One: A Rare Breed.

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"Artemisia Relic." The stern woman called, startling the girl out of her inner most thoughts. A small boy behind her lightly shoved her forward, flashing an encouraging smile.

Artemisia approached the three legged stool in front of the gathered mass, gingerly plucking the tattered mess of a Wizard's hat up off of the ancient wooden surface. Her river stone blue eyes scanned the crowd, wishing a familiar face rested within it. The girl sank down on the stool, carefully balancing herself. The remains of the hat felt fragile and cool as it slid over her brow.

What's this, then? A quiet voice asked. Her hands squeezed the stool tightly, letting the worn edges bite into her palms. You aren't the usual type... are you?

No, I'm not. Artemisia thought back to it, her heart racing.

The old hat snorted, I don't believe that we've ever had one of your kind here before... but, I guess it better be...

"SLYTHERIN!" It suddenly shouted out loud. She ripped the hat off of her head as the far table began to applaud. With a forced a smile, she slipped from the stool like smoke and hurried to join her new house.

As expected, the usual interest was on her immediately. Artemisia wasn't like the other witches and wizards at Hogwarts. Not just because she was a transfer, but because they knew the girl sitting beside them was more than human... even if they didn't exactly know how they knew.

A white-blond haired boy- a fifth year- smiled at her. It wasn't the friendly sort of smile one would expect. She however, knew it well. This must be the unofficial Prince of Slytherin judging by the way his lackeys were practically strapped to his side.

"Artemisia Relic, was it?" His nose scrunched, "That doesn't sound like any pureblood name I've ever heard. I'm Draco Malfoy. Are you a mudblood?"

Her muscles tensed at his tone but her face remained calm and relaxed, unwilling to let his obvious distain bother her or show. She smiled charmingly at him.

"Yes, I suppose. My mother was a muggle as far as I know." Artemisia answered him, river-stone eyes resting on his icy blue ones.

He made a rude noise in the back of his throat. "What of your father?"

"I know very little. I was raised as an orphan in America. As far as I know, he was a Frenchman... but other than that I'll likely never know."

The boy's shrewish gaze tore away from hers in irritation, resting instead on the archaic form of the Headmaster who had risen from his seat.

She tried to listen to what the man was saying, but all she could hear was the sounds of her own blood rushing in her ears. A hot and shivery tidal wave of confusion sweeping over her as the world around her tilted. Artemisia screwed her eyes shut, hoping that the feeling would fade. In the distance she vaguely heard the sound of an irritating female's voice interrupting the Headmaster with an odd hiccuping noise. More than that, she couldn't tell.

After what seemed like hours her head began to clear and she found herself starting down at a pile of mashed potatoes as though it were of the upmost interest and importance. Her head snapped up and she took a quick look around herself, thanking the powers that be that she was fortunate enough to have not gathered any attention to herself from her house.

Draco Malfoy had moved on, telling some grandiose tale to an enraptured group of girls who wanted him only for his name.

It was a pity really.

The hungry way they gathered around him as he spoke... a black and white picture of the life that awaited him flashed through her, featuring himself and woman that she assumed would be his wife and a small boy. He was much older, some of the smugness had left him.

Artemisia smiled at the thought before some imagined force slammed into her. She covered her face with her hands and groaned, her stomach contracting violently.

She glanced around at the other tables, hoping that no one noticed her odd behavior. She looked at the high table where the professors sat and the Headmaster and Artemisia locked eyes. A worried frown curving the edges of his mouth before he gestured at a man clad in black farther down the table. The man had an aquiline face with deep onyx eyes and silky shoulder length black hair that he swept impatiently out of his face as he rose to his full and impressive height. He was at the Headmaster's side in a moment.

She dropped her gaze back to her untouched plate of food. After all this time... she still wasn't sure why she was so upset or embarrassed about herself. It had always been this way. She was born this way... it's not as if she could help it.

Like a brush against the back of her neck she felt the weight of the man's stare on her and knew that this must be the Potions Master that the Headmaster had been telling her about when she arrived this morning.

The one who'd be supplying her potion.

The one who currently was making his way towards her at this very moment.

Artemisia felt the other students shift around her uncomfortably as the man stopped by her side and she turned towards him politely, lifting her gaze to his.

"Miss Relic. I am your head of house, Professor Snape. I am also the Potions Master here at Hogwarts." He drawled deeply, the sound of his voice like a low rumble of thunder in the distance.

"I'm pleased to meet you." She replied, inclining her head towards him. Her lips curving into a small simpering smile.

Professor Snape stared down his nose impassively at her for a long and awkward moment as though he were weighing the authenticity of her statement.

"Follow me." He ordered, turning sharply on his heel. His robes billowed behind him as he made his way down the narrow isle between the student house tables, never once turning to see if she followed. Artemisia watched him dumbly as he got farther and farther away before loping after him.

The castle was fairly quiet, not yet over run by the students who had returned for another year at Hogwarts. Artemisia smiled at the paintings that lined the walls, some of which greeted her politely and others that simply ignored her. The temperature plummeted suddenly as they came to a stair well. Artemisia stopped beside the Professor, looking up at him curiously.

His black gaze sliced into hers as he gestured to the stairs, "This is the way to the dungeons. This is where your common room, potions class, and my office is held."

She turned back to the foreboding space and nodded. He descended the stairs swiftly and she followed without hesitation. The damp mouldering scent invaded her nostrils. The chill air caused goose flesh to rise on her arms and legs until they finally came to a halt infront of a large wooden door.

Professor Snape pulled out his wand and unlocked and unwarded the door in one silent and sinuous movement that was both impressive and telling of his skill as a wizard. The faint shudder of magic being dispelled ran over her face and shoulders like a soft sweet breath and she sighed.

Artemisia stood back as the dark Professor entered the room, the sconces that were bolted to the wall flaring to life with a casually thrown hand. Somewhere on the opposite side of the room a faucet leaked, the droplets of water pinging against the basin in an almost rhythmic timing.

The world around her lurched suddenly and her eyelids drooped. The scent of the room was strong. So many half-forgotten scents of potions, ingredients, and students lingered. The strongest and most recent she knew belonged to the Professor who currently was rummaging through a cabinet containing innumerable potions. They clicked and clanked as they were shifted around.

She ran a lazy hand through her hair, pulling the ink black locks over her shoulder in a cascade that slid like silk down to her waist. She could feel her heart pounding against her throat and her pupils dilating. The familiar ache in her mouth almost made her growl.

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x Snape's POV.

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Professor Snape straightened abruptly, holding a bottle of wine red liquid up to the light to scrutinize it. Appearently satisfied with its contents he slowly approached her. His dark eyes watched her with interest as her gaze zeroed in on the bottle and flashed violet. She reached out to take it from him but withdrew just as quickly, adverting her gaze.

"The Headmaster has of course informed me of your... nature. I can't say that I've ever encountered a dhampir before. Your kind is incredibly rare, as I understand." He spoke softly and without inflection, his drawling voice echoing in the empty room.

Artemisia forced herself to look at him, "Yes, sir... there are not many of us. I've only met one other."

The Professor hummed lowly in his throat, glancing back at the bottle in his hand and smirking when he looked up to find her stare also fixed on it.

"Sanguis Faux Substitutus," he whispered, turning the bottle this way and that to allow the light to reflect off of the dark red liquid inside. "Are you familiar with it?"

Artemisia nodded slowly, her fangs sliding effortlessly out of their sheaths and pricking her bottom lip. She quickly licked away the blood. "I am. I've been drinking it for the past month in preparation of attending Hogwarts."

Professor Snape stilled in interest at the sight of her fangs and then glanced to her eyes. Her pupils were the size of olives with a vicious violet ring around them. A smile dared to twitch against his lips. He supposed that he ought to allow the creature her sustenance before she decided he would make an adequate meal.

He'd hate to have to explain why he'd murdered a student... one ought not to tempt and tease a beast such as this. He dangled the bottle from careless fingertips in front of the young dhampir, shaking it slightly to encourage her to take it. Her hand closed around the neck of the bottle and in one swift movement she had pried the cork out and raised the bottle to her dark red lips. Her lips crushed together into a straight line and she lowered it again, self-consciously turning to the side for privacy before she poured it down her throat.

When she was finished she let out a low sound of satisfaction and shuddered. Sheepishly she turned back to face him, her face flushed and her eyes faded back to a bluish shade of stone. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing, opting to observe instead.

"Thank you, Professor..." she sighed, wrapping a length of her hair around one hand and closing her eyes. "I've been rather thirsty."

"How much substitute do you require?" He asked, more curious for the sake of research than of actually caring about her needs.

She smiled charmingly at him, "I am comfortable with three to four a day."

His brow furrowed. It was more than he had expected. He currently only had six on hand. He'd have to brew more at once to adequately satiate her.

"Will you be needing more tonight?"

"No, Sir. I'll be fine for tonight. I had a dose this morning." She assured him, corking the bottle and handing it back.

"I see. What did they do to accommodate your needs back in America?" He took the bottle from her and gently set it down on the desk beside him.

Artemisia flushed and looked away in shame, an odd flash of what looked like pain shivered over her features. "Well, you see... Sanguis Faux Substitutes is rather expensive to make. Being the only dhampir to have ever attended Ilvermorny, well... they kept small animals for me. Mostly rabbits because they breed fast."

Professor Snape's brows came together in a scowl as the dhampir's lip trembled.

"Why feel guilty for taking what you must?" He asked, his tone sharp and reprimanding. "They were just rabbits."

She shrugged her shoulders in response, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I suppose. One rabbit lasts me for about two days if I'm not doing too strenuous of activities. I need two on a bad day..." she squirmed under his scrutiny. "um... Thank you again, Sir. May I go to the commons now?"

"You are excused, Miss Relic. Come to my office in the morning for another potion. Do not hesitate to seek me out for more, if the need arises. I will have one thing be made perfectly clear. There will be no feeding from students under any circumstances and they aren't to know what kind of creature you are."

Artemisia blinked back tears, her face pinching with hurt. "I- I've never fed from a human before."

"That is irrelevant. It will not start." He fixed her with a glower, watching her lip tremble with the threat of tears.

"Yes, sir..." the dhampir whispered, rushing from the room to what he could only expect was the Commons.

He pursed his lips as she went, turning his gaze to the emply bottle beside him. A single red drop was the only evidence left of the potion.