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Forever Knight	By : AdamantEve Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 15409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Author�s
note: Wow, thanks for the enthusiastic response! I�m releasing chapters almost everyday,
simply because I�ve written this up to chapter 12 and they�re all posted in
another site. I�m working on chapter 13
right now, so after you read chapter twelve, expect that updates will take
much, much longer. Sorry. ::blush:: Hope you keep in touch, though!

Special
thanks to my beta-reader, Lady Diamond. ^_^ I swear, I gave this monster-chapter
to her last night and I got it back this morning. She�s awesome.

Chapter Rating: R

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Ninth: Homecoming

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours after nightfall, Harry sat in the living room
with Ron and wallowed in last minute angst.

�What if she takes one look at me and thinks that we can�t
work it out?� Harry asked, leaning back miserably on the couch.

Ron was about to answer when Harry was off again.

�What if I screw up one day and just happen to have a
pizza and I kiss her and that just makes her realize it�s all impossible?�

Ron frowned and tried again.

Harry sat up.
�What�ll happen when I�m older and wrinkly and she stops thinking I�m �fanciable� and leaves me for some strapping young vampire
who will never age?�

�For Merlin�s sake, Harry!� Ron cried.

�What?�

Ron motioned to say something, hesitated and sighed. �Look, stop with all the stupid questions
already. You have to settle down and
take it one step at a time. We�ll wait
and she�ll be at the door and� just take it from there, alright? Just calm down, for both
our sakes. You�re driving me
spare.�

�Fine.
Sorry. I�m just a little wired.�

�You�re what?�

�Wired.
Muggle expression�� He blew a breath through his lips and reached
for one of the boxes of chocolate he got for her. The particular brand he bought was listed in
the So Your Sweetheart�s A Vampire book under �Chocolate Favorites�. He thought maybe a homecoming present would
be nice and comforting.

Anxiously, he got up and peered into the mirror. He didn�t really dress up dress up, but he wanted to look a bit
presentable. He had selected one of his
nicer t-shirts, bought a decent pair of jeans that was actually his size
and�shock and awe�new trainers. His hair was as impossible
as ever, but he ran his fingers through it anyway, trying to beat it into
submission.

He turned to Ron.
�Do I look alright?�

Ron�s lip twitched.
�Er� you look nice?�

�Nice is what people say when
they�re too polite to say something bad, isn�t it?�

�Well, girl friend, if
you must know, those glasses aren�t working for me at all.�

Harry sighed, putting up his hands. �You�re right. I�m being an idiot. It doesn�t matter how I look. Hermione and I love each other and that�s the
sum of it. At least that�s what those
sappy romance novels say, eh? That it
doesn�t matter how you look, blah, blah, blah��

�Actually, in popular romance novels, you don�t really get
ugly leads. They�re usually very
beautiful and handsome. Blokes like you
and me are just secondary characters because we�re ordinary, and the female
lead never falls in love with us. We�re
just there for comic relief and sometimes one or both of us falls in love with her, our love unrequited, of course. We
usually end up sacrificing our lives for the wo��

�Exactly what have
you been reading in your free time, Ron?�

�What? You�ve never
heard of Fifi La Folle?�

�Who?�

�Author of the popular Enchanted Encounters series.
Ginny has loads of them on her bookshelves. It�s only a tad less racier
than Crystal Claire Waters� Ensorcelled
Wand series.�

�You have got to be kidding me.�

�Oh, not at all.
La Folle still uses euphemisms for the
unmentionables. Waters just lets �er rip and calls it like it is.�

�I meant about you reading them, Ron.�

Ron reddened. �Oh�
well, I�oy! I had no choice! Those nights body-guarding for dad, I had to
keep myself occupied during the down times!�

�With Ginny�s trash novels.
Sure.�

Ron was about to say something when he stopped and let his
gaze drift beyond Harry�s shoulder.

Harry turned and was looking out of the window where a car
had pulled up in front of number 11. The
car was a black Volvo.

Silently, they watched as the driver stepped out and
opened the back-seat door.

Cicero emerged in a dark-grey business
suit looking as impeccable as ever. He
stepped back from the door and offered his hand to help the other passenger
out.

The bushy brown hair was unmistakable and Harry felt his
heart thumping loudly. He didn�t know
why he was so nervous. This was
Hermione. His Hermione, and he shouldn�t have to be
scared that anything had changed. They�d
talked in the last two days and they seemed perfectly alright.

I have nothing to
worry about.

He watched her momentarily as she went to the boot,
knocking on it. She had some things in
the back, it seemed.

It was odd, but he did
notice that there was something different about her. From afar it was rather hard to tell, but�
her clothes. They were so�well,
dark. Of all the times he�d known
Hermione, she always wore something light, or pink, or pastel. Now, looking at her, there was nothing bright
about her clothing. Her jeans were
black. Her jumper was dark green and she
seemed to be wearing a black, cropped leather jacket. He didn�t even know she had one of those.

Tonks had taken care of bringing
Hermione�s clothes and he thought maybe it had more to do with Tonks than anything else.

Hermione pulled out her rucksack and a large book,
probably the one Ron had given her. Fred
and George�s balloons had been reduced to two tiny, golf-ball sized orbs and
tied to the back of her pack.

�She looks rather pale, don�t you think?� asked Ron.

Harry shot him a scowl.
�Well, what the hell did you expect?
She�d come back with a tan?�

Ron reddened, realizing how stupid he had sounded.

Hermione let Cicero through the wards and led him to
the porch.

Harry and Ron hurried to the front to meet them. They arrived just when Hermione was setting
her load down on the console table. Cicero was just stepping in right after
her.

Harry couldn�t help it when he stopped at the end of the
hall, seeing her for the first time since she had died in his arms.

She did look awfully pale; bloodless, with only a hint of
blush on her cheeks. But the difference in
her appearance went further than that.
First there were her lips, redder than they�d ever been and protruding
ever so slightly to accommodate the pearly little fangs, retracted though they
were. Then there were her eyes. They were still brown, but they bordered on
translucent, almost like amber from a certain angle. Sharp, penetrating,
hauntingly ferocious. And finally her hair.
It had always been bushy, alternating between waves and curls, but now
it was�well, it looked almost like it was styled
to be that way. Her chocolate-brown
strands were glossy, curled and waved in the perfect places, alive with
volume. It was gorgeous, but� strange, especially since it looked like
she had red highlights in her hair. She had hardly ever bothered about her appearance
before, but now she looked more like a sculpture, an alabaster statue made
alive under a master artist�s hands.

He should have expected it, of course. He had read how vampires woke from their
sleep looking perfectly groomed, but it still seemed surreal.

She stared right back at him, frozen at the
threshold.

No one said a word.

Then Harry saw something familiar flash in her eyes. It was the look he saw on her when she wanted
him, and it was so powerful this time that it almost caused him to disintegrate
on the spot. He could have let that look
overcome him. He might have given in to
the urge to take her in his arms and carry her up to the rooms to make wild, passionate
love to her, but she suddenly closed her eyes, cutting the sensations off, and
she swallowed.

Cicero whispered something in her ear,
his lips moving to soundless words.

Harry frowned, their closeness unnerving him, but he bit
back whatever jealous protestations he might have made, telling himself that Cicero was her healer of sorts, and that
he was helping her in ways Harry could not.

She nodded, kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds
before opening them again and smiling hesitantly. �Harry��

Hearing and seeing her speak, his anxiety fell away and he
smiled back, taking the first steps towards her. He didn�t get far before she was in his arms,
her face buried in his chest as she returned his embrace.

He finally had
her back.

The sweet realization that talking to her was nothing
compared to having her in his arms in complete silence made the moment more
precious, and Harry didn�t much care if they weren�t the only two people in the
hall.

She turned her chin up, touching her cheek to his
neck. She was warm there. Her soft lips touched his jaw, and she seemed
hesitant, like she was testing herself, before pressing a firmer kiss on his
skin.

Sensations rushed from the point of contact and Harry
gently cupped her face so he could touch his lips to hers. It was a quick but tender kiss; a wordless
greeting deep with emotion.

�Other people here, in case you forgot,� said Ron.

Harry sighed and Hermione smiled, close-lipped as their
foreheads touched.

She pulled away from Harry and went to Ron, giving him his
own hug hello.

Harry cocked a smile and turned to welcome their
visitor. He was instead scared half to
death finding Cicero suddenly standing right next to him.

�Shite!� Harry
gasped, falling a step back as he clutched at his
heart. �Where�d you��

Cicero looked apologetic. �I�m sorry.
I shouldn�t have done that. I
should have made some kind of sound��

�You should�ve stomped, or�
yodeled or something!� Harry said, still rather
flustered.

�Won�t happen again.�

He felt Hermione�s hand slide into his, tugging at him
gently. Waves of calm rippled over him
and he managed to smile at her.

�I�ve some welcome home presents for you,� he said. �They�re in the living room. Come on.�
He was about to turn to Cicero to invite him when Cicero raised a hand.

�Never invite a strange vampire into your home, Harry,�
Cicero said quietly. �Vampires will
enter a house whether invited or not, but it�s best that you don�t express any
verbal or written invitation. You don�t
want to lose what little advantage you have over them. Remember that.�

Harry nodded nervously.
He draped his arm over Hermione�s shoulders as she slipped her arms
around his waist, exchanging perturbed glances with her.

�It�s alright,� she whispered.

It was assurance enough and they walked to the living
room, Ron on her other side tossing cautious glances at Cicero.

Remus emerged from the end of the hall
and smiled. �Well, hullo, there
Hermione! Welcome back!�

Grinning, Hermione went to accept his embrace after which
they all sat down in the living room to discuss Hermione�s homecoming.

Harry gave her the chocolates and her eyes sparkled
delightedly, marred only by the tightness of her smile.

She doesn�t like
flashing her fangs, he
thought morosely.

Leaning over, she put her lips to his ear. �Thank you,� she said breathily.

He felt no breath from her lips, but her soft voice send
tiny vibrations from his ear to the rest of him. He sighed and he could have
happily melted into a boneless heap on the floor.

�Hermione.�
It was Cicero, and he sounded like he was reminding her of something,
shooting her a pointed stare.

Her eyes widened for a moment before a blush put a bit
more color to her cheeks. She pulled
away from Harry.

He frowned, sliding his arm around her to keep her close,
but she seemed to have put up an invisible wall of sorts and Harry didn�t like
it in the least. He dealt Cicero a mild
glare but the older vampire only smiled placidly back.

Hermione passed the chocolate all around.

�Now,� said Cicero.
�I trust Hermione�s chamber was taken cared of?�

Harry nodded. �Yes.
Jaime was very helpful and Max�s crew
didn�t give us a hard time at all.�

�Good! And I assume
you�ve kept yourselves well-informed on the matter of vampirism.�

Harry grinned and shot Ron a smirk.

�Well, I know never to charge a vampire compound interest
of more than 15% per annum,� Ron said.
�You folks hate that.�

Cicero chuckled but Hermione looked confused. Harry whispered that he�d explain it to her
later.

Remus took some chocolate. It was his favorite snack, after all. �I�m at least well-prepared to deal with
emergency situations. I haven�t
forgotten what I learned from my days as vampire servant.�

Hermione made to protest but Remus
waved her into silence.

�Oh, don�t you worry, Hermione,� he said. �I won�t be surrendering myself to your services
in this lifetime, but you know I
shall be there for you whether you like it or not. Kind of like how McGonagall would go about
it, eh?�

She smiled, this time letting a bit of fang show
through.

Harry wished she wouldn�t be so self-conscious. He was a bit surprised that he didn�t think
the fangs too terrible. He supposed that
retracted, the canines weren�t threatening at all.

He ran his hand up and down her arm in a gentle caress and
she responded by leaning back against him.

Cicero nodded. �You�ve
great friends, Hermione.�

�I know.�

�In the next two weeks, you must pay regular visits to my
office. Apart from our set appointments,
you know you can reach me at any time should you� have any sort of crisis.�

Crisis? thought Harry. If she
does, can�t she just turn to us? To Remus, at least?

But Hermione just nodded.

Cicero turned to everyone.
�As for the rest of you�� He eyed
them one by one. �Floo
me if anything comes
up.�

Remus looked grave and Harry had to
wonder what exactly Cicero meant.

Ron was more vocal.
�Floo you? Whatever for?�

�Oh,� Hermione said. �Nothing really. Just that if I happen to
attack any of you unwarrantedly, you should let him know. Immediately.�

Ron turned to her, shocked.

Harry wasn�t quite as surprised, but he did feel wretched
for her. He could see in her eyes that
she wasn�t kidding, and that it hurt her to admit such a thing. He couldn�t be afraid of her. He simply couldn�t. If she bit him in a mad frenzy, he figured he
might as well go down with her, seeing as he�d be a total wreck if he lost her
to madness, but he just couldn�t see Hermione losing it that way. He believed that she was stronger than all of
that. He only wished that he could make
her believe the same thing.

Cicero did not contradict her. He rose from his seat, as did everyone. He shook hands all around and to Harry�s
discomfiture, exchanged cheek kisses with Hermione.

Harry knew they must have forged some kind of relationship
being cooped up for three days in a dungeon, and he trusted Hermione enough to
have no doubts about her fidelity, but it did
bother him that she would have another bloke for a �best friend� that
wasn�t him and Ron. He knew he was being
petty, and rather selfish, but among the many negative effects of her death, he
supposed possessiveness was inevitable.
He hoped it was only temporary.
He didn�t want to be a prat.

Remus offered to escort Cicero to the
door and the three of them were left.

�It�s great to have you back, Hermione,� Ron said in a
somewhat uncharacteristic show of warmth.
�Didn�t feel real, somehow, when we couldn�t see you.�

Harry smiled, idly running his fingers through her
hair. He couldn�t agree more.

�It�s good to be home,� she said softly. �When I was in the hospital, I was constantly
afraid that Cicero was just lying about going back home. I thought maybe he was just telling me I can
when I�d actually have to be spirited away to�I don�t know�Albania and be made
to live there the rest of my life.�

That was too horrible to imagine.

�So�� she began, even softer still, her gaze lowering to
her hands. �How different do I
look? Do I frighten you?�

It broke Harry�s heart to hear her ask such a
question. He pulled her closer against
him. �Hermione, no� we�re not frightened
of you. Right, Ron?�

Ron hesitated and Harry might have kicked him if Ron
didn�t regroup and say, �You do look
different, but it would be stupid to be frightened of you. You�re still our bossy little know-it-all,
you know. Nothing�s going to change
that.�

Her gaze rose and her eyes were liquid with tears, but she
was smiling. �Git!�

�What�d I do?�

She laughed, and there they were; her fangs. Not nearly as scary as one
would expect.

Remus returned minutes later and he
cast Harry a meaningful look.

Harry nodded, taking Hermione�s hand as he grew
serious.

She stared at him, realizing that he had something
important to say. �What is it?�

Harry turned to Remus and Remus just went ahead and said it. �The Auror
Department and the Order want to get your statement about what happened that
night at your parents� house. If you�re
willing, Shacklebolt will come here in a few hours to
represent the aurors. I�ll stand in for the
Order. This is important, Hermione. I wouldn�t have endorsed this if it wasn�t
necessary, but information is essential now, and we seldom have witnesses left
to attacks like the one in your home. We
need as much information as we can get.�

Her grip on Harry�s hand tightened ever so slightly. But for that, she was absolutely still.

Harry realized with mild horror that the look on her face
was exactly what he saw when she lay dead in his arms. Apart from the fact that she was right there,
talking to them, she was the picture of lifelessness.

He struggled to push that thought from his mind, reaching
up to move some hair away from her face.

She blinked, shattering the stillness of her
features. �It�s�It�s
not something I want to remember. If I
can erase it completely from my mind, I would, but I know it�s important. I�m willing to do it. Will there be a pensieve
handy?�

Remus nodded. �Yes.
A pensieve will be necessary after we debrief
you.�

She nodded and Harry felt a slight tremble go through her.

�I�ll be there with you,� he said, giving her hand a reassuring
squeeze.

Ron grinned. �You
should�ve seen Harry setting the terms for this meeting. He flat out said it
should be done here, that Moody can�t be in it and that Remus
will take his place. Tonks
couldn�t say no. He was brilliant.�

Harry blushed as Hermione smiled up at him.

�I never doubted he could be,� she said.

Her confidence in him meant everything.

�Well, we should get you settled back in,� said Remus, rising from his seat. �I dare say the Weasleys
will be coming by later on. Molly�s been
badgering me all afternoon� would you be willing to see them? I can tell them no for you.�

Harry wondered if Remus wasn�t
falling into the servant role inadvertently.
He read in the book that it was a matter of instinct for werewolves, and
that their tendency was to fixate on one vampire
master, so that they didn�t have to be subjected to the orders of many.

�U-Um� it isn�t that I don�t want to see the Weasleys,� she said, shooting Ron an apologetic
glance. �Just� I�m not sure if I�m ready
yet. I�m still� getting used to what I am.�

Remus smiled kindly. �Molly will understand. A few more days, then. Now, I�ll be in my study if anyone needs me.
I�ve quite a few things to catch up on.�
He gave Hermione�s shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving.

�Harry,� said Ron.
�Why don�t you show Hermione to her chamber. I�ll go on ahead to the library and put it in
order. It�s gotten a bit messy without
Hermione to keep it in order. I�ll wait for you two there, alright?�

Harry was astounded and grateful for Ron�s
sensitivity.

Hermione remained expressionless for a moment before she
stepped up to Ron and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek. �Thank you.�

Ron looked like he was going to vaporize right there,
blushing worse than ever. �Er, yeah� um, I�ll be�er�up
there.� He turned and fled.

Harry suspected that kiss did more for Ron than Ron would
ever be willing to admit. He stifled a
sigh. He realized in the last three days
that Ron was nowhere near getting over Hermione yet, and while Harry was glad
that Ron opted to keep being their best friend in spite of it, it still pained
Harry to see Ron suffer.

She turned to Harry, stepping into his arms and leaning
her head against his shoulder. He held
her close, looking down at her upturned face.

�I missed this, Harry.�

Ripples of warmth coursed through him from the sound of
her voice, like a cloak of soft fur wrapping itself around him and rubbing
luxuriantly against his skin. And he had
to wonder if it was a result of finally having her so near after what felt like
a long separation.

It was, however, difficult to search for explanations when
the sweet scent of her shampoo began to cloud his senses. Her milky skin felt soft beneath his fingers
and his urge to feel her pressed very close
to him grew overwhelming.

Drawn by desire, he tilted her chin up and kissed her,
deepening as soon as their lips touched.

At that moment, lost in her kiss, he believed that he had
absolutely nothing to worry about; that everything would be perfectly
fine. They would make love. It would be perfect.

His lips traveled to her earlobe and he nipped at the soft
flesh while his hand wandered beneath her coat to cup her breast. Her soft moan reminded him just how much he
missed touching her, and perhaps just how much he needed to touch her.

Her name escaped his lips, his voice hoarse with longing,
and just when he was resolving to physically pick her up and drag her to one of
the more private rooms they had in the ground floor, she pushed herself away from
him.

His mind, fogged by lust, refused to process it. He stared at her, confused, as he took
desperate, desire-ridden breaths.

�N-No�� she said, her brows knotting.

He couldn�t believe it.
What did she mean no? Everything about what they were doing was
saying yes! But he kept still, trying to make sense
of what was happening.

His gaze fixated on her lips and he wondered if he was
imagining things or if her fangs really were
the tiniest bit more pronounced�

�I�m doing it again,� she said softly, her tone filled
with guilt. �Didn�t you feel it, Harry?�

That made him more confused. �Of course I was feeling it! Why do you think
I was kissing you like that?�

�That�s not what I meant!
Earlier, when you gave me those chocolates��

He blushed. �Well,
I�ve missed you, you know. I suppose� I
suppose I shouldn�t be wanting you like this so soon, but��

�Oh, Harry,� she moaned, frustrated. �What I mean to say is� I�m sorry, but it�s just�it�s me. I mean, it�s you, too, but it�s mostly me. I�m being�� She clenched her fists, searching
for a word. �Vampy.
I�m� I�m giving off vampire pheromones and you�re so receptive to
it! It just makes the entire thing more
intense! Cicero said I shouldn�t. Not while I�m new to all this. But I couldn�t help it, you see! I love you, and I want you and you smell like me, which, for some reason,
makes it so hard to resist��

Pheromones?
He stared
at her, trying to make sense of it. Vampire pheromones?
Well� SO WHAT?

�H-Hermione, it�s not as if I wouldn�t feel these things for you without the
pheromones,� he said desperately.

She shook her head, sighing. �Harry� there are so many things that need
talking about right now. We can�t�we
can�t do that if all we can think about doing is shagging.�

The word �shagging� knocked sense back into him and the
blanket of lust fell away from his mind.
He paled, realizing just how much of a prick he was being. He fell back
on the couch, head hanging between his shoulders. �Holy hell� you�re absolutely right. It�s all I can think about. I�m a bastard.�

�You�re not! Of
course not! I just told you it was my fault!� Her voice had risen to that
hysterical squeak of hers; the one she used when he and Ron weren�t getting what she was trying to tell
them.

He took a deep, calming breath. �Alright. Let�s just settle down.�

She gave an exasperated sigh, collapsing on the sofa chair
across the couch. She wasn�t looking at
him. �You haven�t been wearing my
clothes, have you?�

�What?�

�Well, it�s just that� my scent�s on you, and it�s not
like you�re using my perfume or anything like that� are you?�

�No!� He
paused. �But I suppose� I used some of
your shampoo.�

�You did?�

�Well, it was there in your bathroom!�

�Why were you using my bathroom?�

�It�s right there in your room!�

�Why are you using the bathroom in my room?�

�Well I�� He reddened. �I�ve been sleeping in your room, is all...�

She stared at him in surprise before she seemed to realize
something. �That�s why my scent�s on you.
You�ve been sleeping in my bed.�

�Is that bad?�

She sighed.
�No. Just a
dreadful turn-on.�

�That�s� odd.� He
hadn�t finished reading So Your Sweetheart�s A Vampire. It was possible he hadn�t gotten to that
part yet. �Is that a vampire thing?�

�I don�t know, Harry.
But my sense of smell is sensitive to certain things now� I�d have to
ask Cicero about this, though. I�m not
sure what it means.�

Harry�s eyes widened in shock.
�You�d talk about this to that
pint sized��

�Harry! Don�t call
him names!�

�Kid!?�

�He�s two hundred
years old!�

�Well, I�m sorry!
But I don�t know if I�m comfortable about you discussing our�our sex life with�with him!�

She frowned. �He�s
practically my therapist, Harry! I have
to tell him things like this. For my own mental health!�

�Mental health?� He rose to his feet. �There�s nothing wrong with you!�

She glared at him, bolting out of her chair. �Nothing wrong with me? Everything�s
wrong with me! Because in case you
haven�t noticed, Harry, I�m dead!�

�You�re not dead!�

�I AM!�

�NO, YOU�RE NOT!�

�Harry��

�Shut up! Just shut
up!� He fell back on the couch, holding
his head between his hands and closing his eyes. Hermione�s
not dead. She�s not dead. She�s alive.
She�s alive. She�s�

�Oh, Harry�� The voice was soft, soothing and
repentant. �Oh, Harry. I�m so sorry.
I�m so sorry��

Her arms were around him and he hadn�t the strength to be
stubborn. He buried his face in her
shoulder and clung to her.

It was all very confusing to him. He was supposed to be happy she was home;
grateful that she was alive. He was
supposed to be strong for them both, because she had lost her parents and
because she now had to live with this affliction. Yet he had crumbled so easily, and she was
comforting him, and telling him she was sorry.

Her fingers were running through his hair and it was
soothing to his frayed nerves. When he
felt better he pulled away, looking into her strange new vampire eyes. They seemed almost feral; predatory, but he
couldn�t reconcile those concepts with his Hermione. At least, not yet�

She cupped his face in her hands. �I didn�t mean to be a bitch.�

He was startled by her expression. �You�re not�you�re not that. But I have to be
stronger than this, you know. And I can be, I think. Just that�I think maybe you somehow caught me
by surprise there.�

Her brows knotted.
�Am I so different?�

�I don�t know. Are
you?�

She sighed. �I want
to think I�m the same in spite of this
thing that I am��

�You�re not a thing.�

�I�m a creature of the dark. I�m not human, Harry.�

He sighed, but he wasn�t going to contradict that. He took her hands. They were cold and very pale, but they were
soft, and they squeezed his hands back. �So� so how are you�
how are you going to feed? I can give
you blood, you know. I can��

�No�� she said softly, tenderness settling momentarily in
her ferocious eyes. �I won�t do
that. I won�t feed off you. There are people I can pay for that. If I take any blood from you at all, it�s
because� because I love you, not because I�m hungry. Alright?�

He didn�t know exactly what to say to that. �Maybe I can accompany you when you go out to
feed, or something?�

She smiled shyly.
�I�d�I�d rather you don�t, Harry.
For the next couple of weeks, Cicero will help me with that, but
eventually, I�d have to do it by myself, and I�d rather be alone, really. I don�t want anyone seeing me� not like that.
I don�t think it would be pleasant for you or anyone human I know.�

�But alone? I don�t
want you to be alone out there. And really� I can take it, I think. It�s you.
I won�t ever be afraid��

�No. Just no. It�s not�
Harry, there�s something you have to understand about feeding��

�It has sexual undertones.
I know. I read it in the books.�

She lowered her gaze and he noted a very slight blush
coloring her cheeks.

�It�s not something I�m thrilled about,� he went on
quietly. �But you need it to survive,
and if you won�t take my blood, then I suppose you�ll have to take from someone
else.�

She touched his face with her fingertips. �I wish there was another way. There isn�t.
And the worse part is human blood is so much more expensive than a
Shrimp Wonton at the local Chinese restaurant.�
She smiled, hoping her levity would help take some of the tension away.

He cocked a weary smile.
�That�s almost funny.�

She placed a soft kiss on his lips. �My poor, serious Harry.�

�As opposed to Ms. Killed Or
Worse Expelled?�

She smiled. �My
priorities have changed a tad since then.�

�No! Really?�

She gave him a delicate pinch.

He chuckled, taking her by the shoulders and running his
hands up and down her arms. �Hermione,
do you need help� you know, to pay for
the human blood? Because I can support you, you know. What with� well, my parents and Sirius and��

She seemed surprised.
�Oh, Harry� you really are�you�re the sweetest, most generous man, and I love you for it, but no. I just won�t be a kept woman.�

�Kept woman!�

She giggled. �Won�t that be manly of you, though? Lord it over me and pay for my breast
implants.�

He felt blood rushing to his face. �I would never�your breasts� you know I love
them.�

This made her giggle even more. �Why, thank you, Potter. That�s encouraging.�

�But I really don�t mind�well, alright fine�keeping you.� He felt himself grinning broadly. There was
something immensely satisfying at the thought that he could take care of
her that way. Must be
some kind of male, foraging instinct.

She shot him a glare, though she was smirking. �Thank you, but no. I�ve job prospects, believe it or not, and I�ll
be meeting with a potential employer, soon.�

That was a surprise.
�Really?�

�Umm-hmm!�

�Doing what?�

�Well, see, I�m not quite sure, but said employer thinks
she has use for me. At this point,
that�s good enough for me.�

He frowned. �But
what if�what if the job�s unsavory? I
don�t wa�I
mean, you should do something you like to
do.�

She shrugged. �If I
don�t like it, I won�t do it and I�ll find some other employer. It�s no big deal, Harry. But I�ve a feeling I might like this
work. The employer�her name�s Yasmin bint Omar al-Khwarizm�thinks that I�d be suited to the �goals of their
organization�. Besides, Cicero thinks I
should give them a try.�

His frown deepened. �Oh, well, if Cicero says it�s okay��

�Harry, please stop
being jealous of him. He has helped me
so much already and I�m seriously considering retaining him as my therapist
for�like forever!�

�Great,� he muttered.

�Harry��

He sighed. �Fine. Sorry. I know
he�s helped you a lot and for that I�m grateful. His looks remind me too much of Draco Malfoy, is all. Buggery little... anyway, I�ll live. I know
he�s a good chap. I�m just being moody.�

She smiled, rubbing his knee affectionately. �Thank you.�
She kissed his cheek and stood up, taking him by the hands. �Now, can I just see this chamber of
mine? I don�t particularly look forward
to sleeping in a coffin, but Ci�my therapist��

Harry chuckled miserably.
I suppose I�m going to have to
live with Mr. Junior G.Q. being in her life.

She went on. ��said
I�d get over my silly notions of it once I have a good day�s sleep in it.�

�That�s one way of looking at it, I suppose.�

�Actually, it�s the only way to look at it without totally
freaking out. No matter what anyone
says, it�s still as creepy as hell to have coffins in one�s home, don�t you
think?�

�Well, unless you own a funeral parlor��

�Eh, true. Did you
at least have the sense to avoid pastels?�

�I� sort of went for the silver and dark blue theme��

�Ah, I just knew I could trust your judgment, my
love. And you so cleverly avoided red
and orange, too! I�m impressed.�

He almost sputtered in laughter at that. He hadn�t nearly given her motif that much
thought. All he knew was that blue and
silver was safe and that she liked blue in the first place. �Yes, well, you know� fall colors were so
last season��

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Visiting the chamber turned out to be more upsetting that
Hermione was willing to admit. In spite
of her vampirism, the thought that the coffin in the dungeon was hers and that
she would have to close herself in it like a corpse, awoke in her that primal,
mortal fear of death. If she could be
sick, she would have vomited, unfortunately, as far as vampires went, getting
sick was out of the question. The chamber had been turned into something as
cozy, after a fashion, coffin notwithstanding, but she took one look at the
room at the threshold, stared for two heartbeats and turned quickly around to
leave. She, of course, ran right smack
into Harry who thought she hated it.

�N-No, it�s exactly how I would have fixed it,� she said,
hustling him back into the hall and away from the room.

She felt stretched, and mortified
and horrified at the same time. It felt
like the fact that she wasn�t human anymore was being constantly pounded into
her head, as if she could forget.

She stood with Harry, in the hallway, the light of his
wand just missing the glow of torches from her chamber. The concern in his eyes
had her fidgeting under his gaze.

�What�s wrong?� he asked.

Though unable to meet his eyes, she managed a weak
smile. �Nothing�s wrong. I just� the coffin gave me the willies, is
all. Cicero didn�t exactly have his
coffin in the same room as mine at the hospital. He put it in some corner of the dungeon where
I couldn�t see, so I haven�t exactly gotten used to the idea that�� She sighed, folding her arms over her chest
and rubbing her shoulders. �And when I
think about it, it�s just so bloody ridiculous for you, isn�t it? Your girlfriend sleeps in a coffin.�

He gave her a thoughtful squint. �I wouldn�t call it ridiculous,
actually. Morbid comes to mind, but
that�s only because coffins get a bad rap.
It�s actually quite comfortable in yours.�

She stared at him, blinking in astonishment. �You tried it?�

�Well, I didn�t close it��

�Good lord, you�re serious, aren�t you?�

He shrugged. �I had to make sure it would be comfortable
for you, you know. And it�s got this
neat device on the inside where you can adjust the softness of the��

�You�re mental, Harry.
Abso-bloody-lutely out of your mind! But I love you. I love you to death, and coming from me,
that�s no exaggeration!�

He seemed surprised by her last statement before he
laughed.

She threw her arms around him, her weight sending him
crashing against the wall. He gave a
soft �Oof!�, but before he could complain, she was
kissing him and pressing against him nicely.
She wasn�t about to tear his clothes off quite yet. They were in a dungeon, and there was a
coffin in the next room. She wasn�t that kinky, but he had to be rewarded somehow.
If she were more confident about keeping her fangs nipped, she would
have happily gone down on him right there, but as it was, she was still
fighting to control many of her vampire urges.

She had to stave the constant hunger, which she had to
admit wasn�t so bad right now. She could
hear the beating of his heart, and caught flashes of the blood rushing in his
veins, but she had fed before she left the hospital, and the pangs of hunger
were fleeting. What she found most
challenging right now was keeping her pheromones in check, and it was almost
impossible to keep her fangs from extending when Harry had aroused her desire
in the living room. Cicero told her that
she would eventually find it easy to control all of her vampire impulses, but
not so soon after being turned. Her body
was still bursting with the initial surge of activated vampirism.

Harry groaned as he kissed back, holding her tight against
him with his hands clamped to her bottom.

It was amazing how his response felt like he had
pheromones of his own. One of the many
things she had learned about Harry was that when he felt intense surges of
pleasure, his thoughts sometimes darted into hers. Just in bits and pieces,
really; usually in flashes. Sometimes pictures; sometimes words. This time it was words, and what a string of
them, too! A mix of erotic, romantic and
downright naughty words spilled into her mind, and even if words failed him,
there was always that bulge that was now making its presence known. She hadn�t realized just how much he had
missed all of her until then.

As much as she wanted to ease that ache in him, all of
that had to wait. Her fangs were already beginning to extend, and it was that
which brought her back to her senses.
She was in no condition to be making love to Harry. She could hurt him.

She pulled away apologetically, willing her fangs to
retract.

His hold on her waist tightened. �Oh, please, no,� he said in a hoarse
whisper. �Don�t say we can�t.�

�Harry, in case you�re forgetting, there�s a coffin in the
next room.�

�And would you believe that completely slipped my mind in
the last few seconds?�

She sighed. �Ron�s
waiting in the library.�

He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes
as he took a deep, cleansing breath.
�Coffin, Ron. Coffin, Ron. Coffin, Ron�� He looked at her. �Alright, I think I�m fine now.�

Well, that was bound to get him out of the mood.

She had to laugh softly at that. She took his hand and led him back out of the
dungeon, making their way to the library in comfortable silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Ron who had the pleasure of giving Hermione back
her wand.

Harry thought it was only right Ron should, considering it
was Ron who remembered that she�d want to get it back.

When Ron rolled Hermione�s wand across the library table
in her direction, he had forgone any kind of ceremony. It rattled between him
and her and she stared at it, a smile growing on her lips to match Ron�s as her
vine wood dragon heart�s string wand crept steadily towards her.

�Thought you�d miss that,� said Ron, smirking.

She snatched her wand up like an old friend and
transfigured one of the chocolate truffles into perfectly carved chocolate
lion. She set it on his hand as he
laughed and popped it in his mouth.

�I can�t do a lot of things anymore, you understand,� she
said with a wan smile. �Like I� I can�t
ever make a Patronus or� or apparate��

Harry felt stricken, and by the look on Ron�s face, so was
he.

She hastened to comfort them. �But I can still do loads of important magic,
really. I can still conjure things and I
pretty much have all of my transfiguration powers intact. Besides, when the two of you get your apparating licenses, you can side-along
me.�

Harry took her hand and squeezed. He was sad to hear she can�t make a Patronus, but he supposed it made sense. A Patronus could
hurt her.

�Then again,� she continued. �Cicero said I�d be developing a few vampire
powers of my own. I don�t know what they
are, yet, but I hope it�s not as disgusting as being able to communicate with
maggots.�

Ron made a face.

Hermione nodded morosely.
�It happens.� She turned back to
examine one of the many books Harry had about vampires.

Nearby, she had a bunch of other books she had already
pulled from the shelves, possibly relating to horcruxes.

Harry had to admit that seeing her this way relieved
him. She was back, and it was still her.
It had to be. Her books and her
cleverness were her defining traits. If
she had lost that in her vampirism, he didn�t know how he�d cope.

�These are excellent books, Harry,� she said, skimming
through Underworld: Vampire Society. �I�d love to read them, too. I�ll squeeze them in between my research.�

It made him smile to hear her make these plans.

Life goes on, after all.

He thought maybe he�d tell her about that other book later, when Ron wasn�t there
to overhear.

She had turned to a chapter in the Underworld book entitled Coven
of Power and was tracing the sparkling aquamarine image of a naked winged
woman on her knees holding up a huge orb.
The woman�s wings flapped lazily, but they were always extended, and the
orb floated above her outstretched hands, bobbing slowly up and down.

He leaned over to give it a better look. �What is it?�

�Isis,� she replied.
�Holding the Eye of Horus.�

�Sounds Egyptian.�

�It is. Isis is the
Egyptian feminine archetype for creation: rebirth, ascension, intuition,
psychic abilities, higher chakras, love, and
compassion. Horus
is her son and represents traits of kingship, revenge and victory. Horus�s eye,
whether or not he has it on him, sees all.
Isis having the eye balances his avenging spirit and together they�re
keepers of righteousness.�

�Interesting,� said Ron.

�Do you really mean that?� she asked.

�Not in the slightest.�

�I thought so.�

Harry smiled and hurled a crumpled piece of paper at Ron
with a wave of his wand. �Well, I�m interested. What�s this got to do with vampires?�

Hermione explained to them about vampire origins and
vampire organizations.

�So in this Coven of Isis,� began Ron, who was supposed to
be uninterested, �the birds rule the roost and the blokes sort of grovel at
their feet? What�s in it for the
men? Do they at least get some?�

She arched her eyebrow disapprovingly.

�What does the Coven of Isis do in the first place?� Harry
asked before Hermione blew a vein.

She made a point to turn in Harry�s direction, as if he
was the only other person in the room.
�I don�t really know. Cicero
didn�t want to say, so I�m hoping this book will be more forthcoming.�

�Well, is it?� He
moved closer to her so he could read over her shoulder.

They turned to the book together, and Harry had to admit
that in spite of his genuine interest, it was difficult to concentrate on the
book with her so near, so he didn�t actually get to read all that much.

He was pushing some of her hair off her shoulder when he
caught Ron�s eye and Ron made a vulgar motion with his hand, like he was wanking something off.

Harry replied by glaring at him and flashing his middle
finger.

Ron laughed.

�Boys, I�m right here.
Just because I�m not looking at you, it doesn�t mean I don�t know what
you�re doing.�

Harry rubbed her lap affectionately to appease her. �Ron�s being a git.�

Ron smirked.
�That�s right. Blame me. �What does this coven do? I�m really interested, Hermione. You�re so pretty I�ve forgotten how to read.
Let�s just quit this and snog like mad!�� He had pitched his voice comically for the
monologue.

Hermione couldn�t help but laugh and just for that, Harry
could forgive Ron the ribbing.

It didn�t mean Harry had nothing to say about it, though. �Oy! You�re cramping my style, Weasley!�

�He calls it a style?�

Hermione giggled.
�Oh, stop it, Ron! I think
Harry�s cute.�

Harry stuck his tongue out at Ron.

Ron scoffed. �Well,
Harry, I don�t care what you do. She
still gave me the chocolate lion.�

Harry was well on his way to making a full retaliation
when the library door opened and Lupin came in.

�Shacklebolt and Tonks are here,� he said.
�They�re setting the pensieve up in the
drawing room. Hermione?�

Harry felt her hand creep into his, squeezing with
near-painful pressure. He put his arm
around her, pulling her close. �I�ll be
there with you, and if you can�t go on, you don�t have to. Don�t worry about what Shacklebolt
might say. I�ll deal with him, alright?�

From the corner of his eye, he saw Remus
flinch. Harry knew they couldn�t let
Hermione back out mid-way through debriefing, but the main reason Harry asked
to be there was precisely so they couldn�t force her to go on if she didn�t
want to. He wasn�t going to let anyone
make her do what she didn�t want to do.

She stared up at him, saw that she could trust him to take
care of her and nodded.

They rose from their seats.

Harry kept a firm hold on her hand as they went to the
drawing room.

Tonks was waiting for them
outside. �Shacklebolt�s
inside,� she said. She turned to
Hermione and gave her a welcoming embrace.
�It�s good to have you back.�

�It�s good to be back,� Hermione whispered.

Tonks cocked a smile and patted her
shoulder. �Thank you for doing
this. This can�t be easy for you.�

�It�s important. It
has to be done.�

Tonks nodded. She stepped back and gestured for Ron. �We can wait it out in the other room. I�ve got some tea going and I brought treacle
tart.�

�Bless you, Tonks,� said Ron,
following her as they left.

Remus led them through the drawing room
doors where they found Shacklebolt seated on the
couch, testing his quick-quotes quill while the glow of the pensieve
rippled in the dimly lit room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a strange quality to Hermione�s eyes as she told
them what transpired. While she didn�t
exactly sound detached, she wasn�t bursting into tears, either. It was as if she was desperately clinging to
that strange middle ground, where she might be able to hide her emotions. She never let go of Harry�s hand and he
willed himself to be strong for her, because he had a feeling that if he let on
about how horrified he was, she would break down completely.

When she was done telling them what happened, she began to
tell them what she thought.

�I think daddy invited him into our house,� she said
faintly. �It�s the only way he could
have gotten through the wards around the attic.
I don�t know how he did it, but apparently, he�d been speaking to them
beforehand, yes? They�d been talking
long enough for Janus to gain an interest in me. He was interested enough to defy Voldemort�s orders, anyway.�

�So you really think You-Know-Who did not order your
turning?� asked Shacklebolt, not raising his eyes
from his parchment pad. Every so often,
his jaw tensed, usually after Hermione said Voldemort�s
name.

�He didn�t. From
the things Janus said, Voldemort
wanted all of us dead. There�s no
practical reason for me to be turned, anyway.
Turning me would only serve to anger those dearest to me and my theory
is that Voldemort thrives on the darker emotions if
he can�t get rid of emotions completely.
To him, anger and hate can breed power, so in his mind, if his enemies
learned to nurture these emotions, they might be more formidable. It�s just a theory on my part, but I dare say
it makes some sort of sense. If I�m
wrong, the fact still remains: my death would have served his purposes far more
effectively. He�d have proved that the Muggle-born have no place in his society and he would
have�he would have hurt Harry very, very badly. At any rate, I think Voldemort was furious when he found out what Janus had done.�

Harry was surprised at that.

Remus and Shacklebolt
stared at her.

�And you believe this because�?� asked Remus.

�Harry�s scar.
When it hurt, Harry saw Voldemort punishing Janus for something.
I think I�m the reason for it.�

�How do you know all that?� demanded Harry.

Hermione cast him a mildly displeased look. �I made Ron tell me. You promised him you�d tell me about your
scar if it hurt you, but you didn�t.
Don�t blame him. I made him swear
to watch over you and he was just doing what he thought was best.�

Harry frowned, but he was only slightly concerned about
Ron letting the cat out of the bag. �How
did you know it was Janus whom I saw?�

�I saw his face too, and from what Ron told me, our
descriptions match. Except
for the tattoo, maybe. I didn�t
see his tattoo.�

Harry turned away from her, struggling for control. I know
who he is, he thought viciously. I�ve seen the vampire that did this to
Hermione�

�Harry will have to confirm the match,� said Shacklebolt.

Remus shot Shacklebolt
a disapproving look, leaning over his chair to speak. �But the question remains: Why would Voldemort be so angry?
It can�t just be that he thinks Harry�s anger will give him an
advantage. It�s plausible, but Voldemort�s too arrogant to let on that Harry�s rage could actually be a threat to his grand
plans. Harry, you�re the one with a link
to Voldemort.
Do you have any idea at all?�

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head
gravely. �All I know is he was angry,
and Voldemort saw fit to punish Janus.�

�Is Janus dead, then?� asked Shacklebolt.

�I don�t know.�

�He�s not,� said Hermione quietly. �If he died, I�d know.�

Harry�s brows furled as he looked at her. Her eyes momentarily glazed with that strange
translucent vampire quality before they faded to their usual color. Hermione had told him that she had a residual
psychic link with Janus. He hated that she did, just as much as he
hated having Voldemort connected to him.

Remus seemed vastly troubled by this,
but did not give voice to his particular concerns. �These are useful leads, I think, and we�ll
follow them. There�s something in Voldemort�s anger��

�But first�� said Shacklebolt. �Hermione, are you familiar with how a pensieve works?�

She nodded, taking out her wand. In the next few seconds, she managed to
extract the memory of that night from her mind.
The silver thread was tinged with something Harry had never seen
before. There was a trail of red laced
within the strands of memory, like blood.
He did not say anything about it since Hermione didn�t seem alarmed, but
he could tell even Remus and Shacklebolt
found this strange.

She released the swirling memory above the pensieve and tapped it down so it would fall into the
bowl.

�Harry,� said Shacklebolt. �You have to go in so you can confirm Janus�s identity.�

A bolt of terror shot through Harry and Hermione�s eyes
widened.

�NO!� she cried.
�Y-You can�t let Harry see it!�

Remus glared at him, a hint of warning
in his gaze. �Kingsley��

Shacklebolt was unaffected. �He has to, or we might be going on a wild
goose chase following this lead. It�s a
thin enough lead as it is. I don�t even
know where to start following it.�

Hermione clasped Harry by the arm. �You said you�d stop it if I can�t go any
further. You promised. I can�t keep going anymore, Harry. I want this to stop right now.�

Harry was about to say something when Shacklebolt
interrupted.

�Harry, Hermione�s part in this is done. This doesn�t concern her anymore. This is about you doing what you have to
do. Whatever you decide now won�t
directly affect her, but if you refuse to look into that pensieve
because you�re afraid, our information
tonight will be incomplete. That could
mean lives. If you want to be
responsible for those lives��

Hermione�s eyes flashed ferocious and she hissed at Shacklebolt, her fangs elongating as she spoke. �Don�t you dare burden Harry like that! Don�t
you dare!�

Shacklebolt was taken so much aback by her
appearance that he actually gasped, inching away.

Remus made a move to intervene but
Harry shot him a warning glance. If
anyone was going to calm Hermione, it was going to be him.

Harry reached up and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it
a firm squeeze.

Her furious gaze darted to him. He hesitated only for a heartbeat before he
leaned over and spoke softly into her ear.

�Hermione�� He kept his voice gentle and undemanding. �There�s no need for that, love.�

�He��

�He didn�t mean it.
And he can�t hurt me. I�ll be
fine.�

She remained still for several more seconds before she blinked, her anger deflating as she did. She began to look regretful as she leaned
away from Shacklebolt.

To Harry�s great astonishment, she began to move away from
him, too, her gaze downcast to avoid his eyes. He held her fast just as she
whispered apologies for her outburst.
She did not struggle against him as he pulled her close.

Harry shot Shacklebolt a scowl
as he crooned soothing words in Hermione�s ear, her head on his shoulder.

When the tension in her shoulders eased, he met Shacklebolt�s still-shocked gaze above her pate.

�I�ll look into the memory,� he said gravely.

Relief slid over Shacklebolt�s
features.

Remus wasn�t above relief,
himself. As much as the kind werewolf
would want to spare Harry the anguish, this information was too important to be
set aside for personal considerations.

�No�� Hermione breathed, her fingernails digging into the
skin of his arm. �I don�t want you to
see��

�I have to,� he said.
�I�ll be alright.�

She shook her head but his only response was to pull away
from her to go to the pensieve.

Shacklebolt stood beside him. They would
enter the memory together.

Harry exchanged looks with Shacklebolt
and together, they bent over the bowl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione�s scream assaulted him, and it sounded ten times
more terrified than the first time he heard it.

Harry almost swooned at the horror of it all. The bodies� the blood� her
screams. And while darkness
cloaked the room, there was still enough light for him to see. Oh, how he wished the
darkness had blinded him, but there was moonlight from the windows, and his
gaze fell upon her frightened face as the vampire sank his fangs into her
tender throat.

After he had drunk his fill of her, the vampire spoke
words of approval, and helpless against him, Hermione had no choice but to
drink his blood. Her struggles to push
him away were futile, and Harry�s rage gripped his heart and mind.

His eyes ached from fighting back tears and his breathing
had gone ragged with emotion.

Blood poured from her neck, soiling the front of her gown,
and her teeth were stained crimson.

The vampire introduced himself after a fashion just before
the whisper of steel cut through the milieu of sounds. It was a Japanese sword. A long, silver blade, curved ever so
slightly. It flashed in the darkness and
sang just before Janus plunged it all the way through
her.

Harry couldn�t help it.
He turned away, unable to bear the shock of pain that so evidently
exploded from her eyes. He squeezed his eyelids shut, his knuckles white with
strain.

�Potter!� Shacklebolt
said beside him. �You have to look at his face!�

Oh, God, he thought, struggling to get his
emotions under control. Hermione�

There was a second sigh of steel, followed by Hermione�s
sob of pain and all Harry wanted to do was clamp his hands to his ears.

�Potter...� Shacklebolt sounded terribly impatient. �It�s either you I.D. him now or we do this
again. Do you want to do this again?�

Gods, no! Harry summoned what courage he could muster and looked
through clenched teeth.

Janus tossed Hermione aside like a rag
doll and turned away from her.

It was then Harry saw the same man in his vision, his
vicious beauty glowing pale in the dim light.

Janus�

�Is it the same man in your vision?� asked Shacklebolt.

Harry didn�t trust himself to speak. He just nodded.

That was enough for the auror.

A great explosion rocked the attic and Harry and Shacklebolt flinched on instinct. The gaping hole in the wall cast moonlight
over the gruesome scene.

Wind blew through the opening and hit Janus�s
still form. His black blouse, underneath
a flapping black leather coat, was held close by two dragon-shaped clasps just
above his abdomen. His blouse blew open,
exposing the swath of skin between his bellybutton and the low rise of his
black leather pants.

For the second time, Harry saw the tattoo. There was more of it to see this time, and
Harry could decipher just what the image was.
They were the open jaws of a serpent, fangs extending long and low.

And then Janus was gone, as if
he had disapparated without a sound.

Harry saw himself emerge from the attic stairs, stumbling
frantically to get to Hermione.

He didn�t want to see Hermione die again. Once had been enough.

�I�m done,� said Harry, and without even checking to see
if Shacklebolt would follow him, he swept himself out
of the memory and out of the pensieve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was paler than Hermione had ever seen.

Harry emerged from the pensieve
looking like he had stared death in the face and lost a part of himself in the process.
Shacklebolt looked less ashen, but his
expression was grim.

The auror began to gather his
materials.

Remus put a hand on Harry�s shoulder to
nudge him out of his catatonia.
�Alright, Harry?�

Harry blinked, swallowing as he nodded and turned away
from the pensieve.
His eyes met hers and for a moment, Hermione thought he was going to
start shedding tears, but he didn�t.

There was definitely something changed in him.

He took her by the hand and gently pulled her close.

She didn�t even wait for him say anything. She simply slid her arms around him and
initiated the embrace. He held her and she buried her face in his chest,
breathing in the scent of him. There was
a tinge of blood to his smell, and she knew the hunger was growing again, but
she could hold back for a little longer.
For now, he needed holding as much as she did.

It was several seconds before she heard Harry speak again.

�Are we done here?�
He was asking Shacklebolt.

Shacklebolt nodded. �Yes.
I�ll bring the information in for processing. Thank you for yours and Ms. Granger�s
cooperation.�

�You�ll let me know if there�s anything?�

Shacklebolt frowned. �Let you know? Everything�s on a need to know basis,
Potter. You aren�t��

�I�m not what? I�m not authorized? I think I am.
I�m just learning that now, actually.
The Order thinks I�m authorized, so if you�re going to tell Remus, or Mr. Wea�Arthur, or
McGonagall, you get to tell me. If you
don�t, I�ll ask Remus, and he�ll tell. Unlike some people, he wants me on the Order�s governing circle.�

Hermione looked up at Harry in surprise. His expression was bereft of anger or
stubbornness. He was calm;
collected. He was stating a fact, not
fighting to be noticed. He did not avert
his gaze from Shacklebolt�s glare and while his
shoulders were tense, she noticed that he was running his hand in soothing
circles on her back, as if he was calming her
in this admittedly discomfiting situation.

This was a side of Harry she had never seen. She had witnessed him take charge before, but
only with his peers, like in the D.A., or when he was captain of the Quidditch team. With
the elders, he was usually just sulking and being angry or even being very,
very respectful. Now he was standing up
to Shacklebolt, and she was pleased to note that Remus was watching it all happen with barely veiled
delight.

She looked at Shacklebolt, her
expression going haughty. She was proud
of Harry, and she was daring Shacklebolt to tell
Harry no.

�You�re not in the circle yet,� said Shacklebolt.

�There are four of you in the circle now. Three have no objections to making me a
fifth. If you want to get technical on
me, three out of four is a winning vote.�

Shacklebolt glared as he gathered his things
irritably. �I�ll see what I can do,
Potter.�

�Thanks, Kingsley.
That�s very kind of you.� Harry
sounded anything but grateful. He
sounded like he had been completely entitled to the information and that Shacklebolt should have known that.

Shacklebolt stormed out, yelling for Tonks to come on out because he was done for tonight. They heard him stomping through the hall and
down the stairs.

Seconds later, Tonks emerged
with Ron behind him. Ron had treacle
tart in his mouth while he held an ugly yellow mug with piping hot tea.

�What�s up with Kingsley?� Tonks
asked.

Hermione didn�t know if Tonks
was just pretending she hadn�t listened in on the conversation. Tonks had been with
Ron, for goodness sake. As if that wasn�t incriminating enough.

�Harry grew a backbone on him,� replied Remus, completely oblivious to any foul play.

Harry reddened and Hermione grinned in spite of her
suspicions. �He was brilliant, Ron. You should have seen it!�

Ron took the tart from his mouth and raised the mug. �Been there, seen that. Harry seems to be getting the hang of this
leader thing. Should we give him a
t-shirt? A nifty one that says, �I
respect your feelings but I�m still your boss, twat.��

Hermione laughed.
The elders tried to maintain their dignity by pursing their lips.

�I�d never wear
a t-shirt like that,� said Harry. �I�d
wear �Allergic to stupid Dark Lords�, though.
Or better yet, something that says, �Kiss my dementor,
Voldie�.�

She giggled. Remus and Tonks gave in and
laughed with her.

�That�s not funny,�
said Ron, grinning in spite of himself.

�Come on� say it,� said Harry in needling tone. �Say Voldie. You know you want to.�

Ron sneered. �Quit
toying with my emotions, Potter.�

�I�d love to stay and see this milestone of Ron�s,� said Tonks, �but Shacklebolt�s teed
off enough, so I must go see to him downstairs.
Remus, you are obligated to suffer with me
because we are in a deep and meaningful relationship.�

�Ah, yes. I knew I
should have read the fine print.�

�Come along, Moony.�

Remus followed and closed the drawing
room doors as he asked Tonks, �Do I get a biscuit for
following orders?�

To which she replied, �That�s only for dogs,
sweetheart. Wolves get nothing for their
efforts.�

Closed into the drawing room, Hermione sat on the couch
with Harry while Ron sat on the nearest lounge chair.

�Tonks and I heard everything,�
said Ron. He went on when Harry arched a
questioning eyebrow. �Extendable
ears.�

Hermione knew it.

�Naturally,� replied Harry in a dry tone.

�You two alright?�

She frowned, shooting Harry an anxious look. He smiled and put his arm around her,
squeezing her shoulders.

�I�m fine,� he said.
�I�m more worried about Hermione.
Love, was it too much for you?�

�Only when he made you� made you look.�

Sadness and regret shone from his gaze as he pushed some of
her bouncy brown hair behind her ear. He
cupped her face, brushing the pad of his thumb tenderly on her cheek.

�Don�t worry about me,� he said quietly, but the pain in
his eyes said otherwise.

She made no protest as she cast her gaze down, wishing that
Harry hadn�t been forced to watch as Janus murdered
her. If it had been the other way
around, she probably would have gone mad.

She looked up and caught Ron watching her. He averted his eyes almost immediately.

For a brief moment, she wondered if Ron had worked out his
issues about her. She couldn�t tell
herself for sure that he had. She peeked
at Harry and saw that he was still looking at her. He had missed Ron�s wandering eyes
completely.

�I�m going back to the library,� she said. �Do you two want to come or are you going to
bed?�

She knew Harry liked it when she mentioned the
library. It was something of her that he
was intimately familiar with. Seeing her
or thinking about her with books seemed to confirm that she was still the
Hermione he knew. It was no bother to
her, anyway. She still loved books and
she still liked doing research.

Although it did occur to her at that moment that her
waking hours were their sleeping times.

Harry�s eyes did light up and Ron cocked a grin.

�So what are we researching tonight? Horcruxes or
vampires?� asked Ron.

She smiled, rising from her seat. �Horcruxes, I
think. And if Harry would be so kind, he
can bring over the locket so we can give it a look.�

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione looked up from her scribbling on the library
table and saw her boys fast asleep. Ron
was sprawled out on the couch and Harry was bent comfortably on his sofa chair.
Each had a book plopped unceremoniously and haphazardly on their laps. They�d been asleep for a few hours, but
Hermione had let them. She was quiet
enough not to disturb their slumber, anyway.

One of the many things about being a vampire was that she
could remain perfectly and utterly quiet.
She could move, but her movements were all calculated, graceful and
soundless. She didn�t breathe anymore,
for one, unless she sighed and gasped out of some kind of habit. And everything about her was as still as
death. She could move about so quickly
that she was almost apparating, and she wouldn�t make
a sound.

She�d been trying to find ways to destroy horcruxes and she might have some useful theories. But while she searched for answers to that question, she had also managed to
make interesting notations on possible Founder possessions that could have been
used as horcruxes.
She found herself writing an essay of sorts, justifying a particularly
warranted pattern to Voldemort�s choice of objects.

~~

Consider the
following objects: Tom Riddle�s Diary, Guant�s Ring, Hufflepuff�s cup (pending verification) and Slytherin�s locket (pending authentication). The pattern to the objects connected to Slytherin, and conversely Voldemort,
is Longevity: A diary preserves memories, a locket preserves time and the ring,
a gemstone, is linked to a number of things timeless, like heritage and, more
importantly, ageless-ness. Most
gemstones share properties of non-decay.
They can last for hundreds�thousands of years looking exactly the
same. Of course, an uncut stone would be
too crude for one such as Voldemort, so he needed
something set as jewelry, and his ancestral ring was perfect.

Hufflepuff�s cup was a trickier study. A cup could symbolize anything from bounty to
water to emotion. The problem obviously
lies in pinpointing how the cup would symbolize Hufflepuff. A plausible theory would�of course�be Hufflepuff�s loyalty, but how does a cup symbolize
loyalty? It then occurred to me that the
answer could be found in history, through hundreds and thousands of years of
rituals. Looking back, there have been
thousands of congregations, meetings, initiations and groups that have used the
�communal cup� to symbolize unity. A
single cup would be passed between several lips to indicate one�s affiliation
to their chosen brethren. It seemed that
the association of loyalty to the cup began to make sense. Besides, even Voldemort
values loyalty. If not for loyalty, he
wouldn�t have Death Eaters begging to suck his dick.

~~

Hermione found herself smirking at that. Ordinarily, she would have considered the
phrase revolting, but dying and rising tended to take the edge off certain
trivialities. And frightening as the
Death Eaters were, she really did think they were a bunch of sniveling,
groveling dweebs fighting over Voldemort�s scraps.

Besides, in many
ways� I�m now more frightening than they are.

She continued to write:

~~

Through this theory
of association, it is now incumbent upon us to realize what sort of objects would
represent Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw best as far as Voldemort�s
values goes. I can only guess that Voldemort would not choose
attributes that he did not find important.
Therefore, Gryffindor�s �bravery� cannot be a
point of reference.

As far as the last
two founders go, your guess is as good as mine, but I shall postulate.

Ravenclaw�s most defining trait was
knowledge. She sought answers and
believed in the power of knowing.
Knowledge, itself, is a benign concept.
Voldemort, worldly as he is, would consider
something more apparently useful in Ravenclaw:
Intelligence. There are a number of
things that could be associated with intelligence: Books, a tree, an owl, spectacles� The first
three objects are out of the question as far as horcruxes
go. They are vulnerable, easy to destroy (as was made evident in the second
year when Harry destroyed the diary) and if not destroyed by something or
someone else, they can be destroyed by time.
A book can decay; a tree can wither away and an owl can die. An ideal
repository for one�s soul these objects do not make. Spectacles are out of the
question, as well. Rowena Ravenclaw did not wear glasses. Even if she could have
taken them off for portraits, her glasses would have been mentioned in the books
if she had them. I would, therefore,
have to speculate about symbols that could not have been so obvious: A diamond,
a compass rose, or perhaps a quill.

Gryffindor�his hat
and sword scrapped out of the picture�leaves very little to the imagination. Voldemort would not
admire Gryffindor�s bravery. He would, however, admire Gryffindor�s
ability to do battle. Gryffindor would
have been a man of action, unsaddled by matters of strategy and planning. So maps and charts would be improbable. I favor the theory of weapons, or better yet,
something protective: Shields, or armor.

Another possibility
crossed my mind for a brief moment, mostly related to the night Voldemort gave Harry his scar, but I dare not print such
thoughts as of yet. Its particulars are
unsound and largely without basis.
Unless I find something to support it, it is not worth recording in
detail, lest they taint future thought processing. Noting that I did have this particular deviation is necessary, though. For future reference.

~~

She leaned back on her seat and checked the time. It was three thirty in the morning. At around five thirty, she would have to
retire to her chamber.

I�ll have to sleep
in a coffin. How
dreadfully morbid.

Reservations about coffins aside, Cicero did tell her that
she would eventually grow more attached to the darker concepts of the universe:
Death; fear; pain; viciousness.

�You won�t turn
evil, you understand,� he had said. �But such matters would not seem so beyond
you any longer.�

She didn�t know if it was something she could appreciate,
but she supposed that if she had to sleep in a coffin and drink living blood,
it only made sense that death, fear, pain and viciousness would seem less
daunting.

Her fingers ran along the leather jacket slung on the back
of the seat beside her. She had had the
jacket for ages, but she hardly ever wore it.
Her mother had bought it for her; said it would serve to add
sophistication to her look since she liked wearing jeans so much. Hermione hadn�t thought much of if before,
but now she liked it exceedingly.

Leather, she thought, almost
affectionately. Dark leather. Used to be something alive�

She shook her head, shutting her eyes and willing the
strange thoughts away.

Her gaze fell on Harry and Ron, hoping to draw calm from
their peaceful forms.

So it caught her completely off-guard when she began to
smell the sweet scent of their blood.
Their heartbeats thumped in her ears and she began to see beneath their
skins; where their blood pumped warmest.

Harry, in particular, was irresistible. Her mind was already making promises about
the ecstasy of taking from her human lover.
How he would be sweeter than sweet and so blessedly warm and alive.

Her fangs began to lengthen and she could feel her eyes
going vampiric.

�Oh, God,� she whispered, rising to her feet to leave the
library in a hurry.

She hurried away from the library doors, gliding down the
stairs with the single purpose of putting floors between them and her.

Cicero had told her that this would happen; that she would
look at her human loved ones and occasionally want
their blood. Harry, especially, since
thoughts of him were associated with carnal things.

Hermione was determined not to let her bloodlust with him
win. She would tear out her own throat
if that�s what it took. She would never,
ever take from Harry like that. She
would never drink his blood to sate her hunger.
She had promised him she would only do so for love, and even that did
not sit well with her.

�Taking blood from
your human lover is a very intimate act,� Cicero explained.
�Oh, a lot of vampires do it
casually, of course. It�s the same
concept as sex for humans. A lot of humans
have sex whenever they feel like it, but it doesn�t remove from the fact that
giving your body to someone is intimate.
It could be very special,
though some choose not to make it so.
You, as a vampire, can have
sex with someone without taking blood.
We are still capable of�well�climaxing in the usual way, just that
taking blood is another way of achieving that. It goes without saying that
making love with another vampire might lead to an exchange of blood, but unlike
taking blood from their humans, vampires do consider vampire blood exchanges very significant. Exchanging blood
with a vampire sets temporary psychic links between vampire lovers. It only becomes permanent after several years
of doing it with the same vampire on a daily basis, but the fact remains: You
don�t do a vampire blood exchange with just anyone. Your lover would have access to your thoughts
and feelings, if only for a brief period after sex. It�s not something you�d want with someone
you do not trust unconditionally.�

As she recalled Cicero�s words, it occurred to her that
whenever he explained something relating to coping with Harry, he always led
the conversation to her association with others of her kind. She didn�t know if he was just being
informative or whether he was actually trying to tell her something, but she
was under the impression that Cicero thought that she would eventually separate
herself from her human life and join the vampires completely.

She didn�t want to think about it that way, but it was a
nagging thought.

Hermione went to the kitchen and activated the
lights. She sat at the table and
realized she had no real reason to be there.
Ordinarily, she would be rummaging through the refrigerator and making
herself some tea, but that wasn�t the sort of thing she could do now.

�Bulloks,� she muttered. She�d have to go back to the library, but she
didn�t want to if her hunger was overcoming her.

There was nothing to do but sit there.

It was several minutes of silence before she heard a
commotion at the kitchen window.

She looked, startled, and saw a raven tapping on the
pane. The raven had a note attached to
it.

Curious, she let the raven through and it stuck out its
leg, the letter dangling from it.

Gingerly, she took the note. She was about to offer it a treat when it
simply hopped out and left.

She watched it go before turning to the letter.

The seal was one she had seen before.

The coven�

She broke the seal and saw two words.

Its impact was immediate.

~~

Look outside.

~~

Frowning, Hermione went to the living room and cautiously
peered out to the street.

At first she saw nothing.
The moon seemed to have been covered by clouds making the night blacker
than usual. Then she realized that there
should have been streetlights, or even lawn lights from the neighbors. There was nothing but darkness.

Momentarily forgetting her hunger, she thought about
alerting the others concerning the state of things when the moon suddenly broke
free and cast rays of pale light over the streets.

It was then that Hermione saw it; a thick traveling mist
blanketing the street. It gathered at
the foot of a lamppost, twirling upwards like a tiny tornado and coalescing at
the top of it before dissipating as quickly as it came.

In its wake was a woman in dark clothes perched calmly and
gracefully atop the streetlight; hair flowing and blowing as if drifting in
water. Her eyes glowed purple and she
was looking straight at Hermione.

Hermione blinked, and the figure of the woman grew
absolutely still; no sign of life.

And then Hermione heard it; a voice in her head so
captivating that she would have wanted to wrap herself
in that voice and die.

What does a vampire
have to do to get an invitation around here? the voice asked, followed by a mental
chuckle.

Hermione knew, to the very core of her darkened soul, that
she was staring right into the eyes of Yasmin bint Omar al-Khwarizm, Coven
Master and Keeper of the Blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:
Officially, this chapter has 13,213 words, from �Chapter Ninth� to �Keeper of
the Blood�. You are now 13,000-words
more read. Lol!

Buffy reference:

Buffy:
You don't just sneak up on people in a graveyard. You make noise when you walk.
You... stomp. Or yodel.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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