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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Author�s notes:
Finally, we get to this vampire thing, eh? Stressful,
this chapter. As some of you may
know, most of this story has been published in *another* website. Since the User Agreement on this site
specifically says that I can�t post links of another site, I won�t do so, but
just so you know, I have up to chapter 11 posted in that other site and soon,
chapter 12.

Standard
disclaimers apply. JKR, I vant
to bite you� on the ankle� until you give me Harry Potter. I�ll
settle for an autographed blow-up doll of him, though.

Chapter rating: R

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

Chapter Fifth:
Blood

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

Mediwizards came, tearing him
away from her body. He made a desperate grab for her, but someone was
pulling him back. It was Remus; maybe. He
hardly cared.

He didn�t fight, anyway. He needed them to get her
back. He needed them to revive her.

Ron�s sudden arrival caused more of a struggle with
those around him. He was a large man; strong.
It took three aurors to hold him.

Harry couldn�t even hear his own
furious screams. And he watched as the mediwizards
worked to revive her.

There was a steady stream of beams from the mediwizards�
wands, blue and pink rays aimed at her chest. The beams would bathe her in their glow, before dissipating
into nothing.

Several minutes later, the mediwizards
looked at one another, their faces resigned to the inevitable.

No�

One of the mediwizards reached over to
press her eyelids closed.

No.

They were noting her official time of death.

No!

Harry knocked them aside and pulled her limp, slender body back into his arms.

He wasn�t sure what he did next. All he knew was that he was
screaming her name, and that he was fighting back the crippling despair that
was pounding onto him in waves. He was holding her tight as he wailed
against her shoulder. He was vaguely aware of Ron nearby. Maybe it
was Ron�s hands that were gripping his arms.

He didn�t know. He didn�t care.

This isn�t happening, he thought furiously.
This is a nightmare. I�m going to wake up and she will be there; alive;
smiling. She�s not dead. She�s NOT DEAD.

�Harry�� said a choked voice from behind him.   �Harry,
please.�

SHE�S NOT DEAD!

He hadn�t even realized that he had been
screaming it out
loud.

Stored glass and ceramic figurines began to explode; wooden tables
split into bits through some invisible force and the walls groaned with the
stress of the power buffeting it.
Perhaps the house was mourning, too.

Shouts from the people around him did nothing to temper his
magical outbursts.

In the next minute they were tearing him away from her and he
couldn�t understand why they had to do that. Why can�t they just leave
him alone with her? Why did they have to take him away?

Someone was struggling to hold him back.

�Harry!� It was Ron, and there were tears running down his face,
too.

Harry didn�t care. Nobody could possibly understand his grief. Nobody!

He lashed out and the shriek of wood grew louder. Maybe he
hit somebody. He wasn�t sure, but the next thing he remembered was a wave
of drowsiness, and seconds later, the world went absolutely dark.

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

Harry woke up in the emergency ward of St. Mungo�s.
There were no healers surrounding him or even bustling about. He had been
placed in the farthest corner of the facility, and the only ones there to greet him were Ron and Remus.

He sat up from the hospital bed, frantically transferring his gaze
between the two of them. �Tell me I dreamed it. Tell me it was a
nightmare!�

Neither Ron nor Remus spoke. Harry
didn�t need for them to say anything, anyway. He was covered in dried blood. Her blood.

Ron�s face was streaked with tears, his eyes red and puffy. Remus didn�t look any better.

Harry crumbled within himself, right there on the hospital
bed. His strength was spent, and the
screams stayed inside him. The tears wouldn�t come, like they�d crusted and
clotted inside him, causing him worse pain than
if he had even tried
to force them out.

He brought his hands to his head as if it was going to explode
from his grief.

Bent over, he struggled to find some measure of control for his
raging emotions in the silence of the room.

He didn�t know how long it took him to compose himself, and he
wasn�t even sure if he was in any condition to do anything remotely connected
to her, but he asked Remus to see Hermione.

Remus could only stare
at him, perhaps trying to figure out if Harry was in his right mind.

�Please,� he said in an utterly defeated tone.

After a while, Remus nodded and gestured
for him to follow.

Harry touched his feet to the floor. His legs were going to hold
him, and his legs were cooperating well enough to move him forward.

God, I can�t do this�

But I have to.

As they walked beyond the curtains of his bed, Harry struggled to
speak. �Hermione�s parents� are they�?�

�Yes,� Remus replied. �It was
their bodies that were�in the attic��

Harry tried to settle the roar of revulsion at the memory of
it.

Hermione� had you found them that way? Or were� were you
made to watch as they were killed?

It was too horrifying for Harry to seek answers. Either way,
he wouldn�t have wanted that for Hermione.

God� if I had just held on to her. If I had just�

He closed his mind to those thoughts. The danger was
supposed to have passed. There weren�t supposed to be any Death Eaters
left to harm her�

Silently, Remus led him to the healers
in charge while Ron trailed behind.

The healer said she was in the morgue. She would be prepared
for examination in an hour�s time.

Harry felt his stomach clench. �They�re going to��

Remus turned apologetic
eyes on him. �They have to. It�s�it�s
standard procedure for� this.�

Death Eater victim, he thought.
He swallowed to control the bile that threatened to rise from his
stomach.

The other Weasleys were in the waiting
area, turning grief-stricken eyes to him as one. And Ginny, who had
refused to speak to Hermione before and during the wedding, was still shedding
tears as she sat between her mother and father.

Bill and Fleur weren�t there, and for a brief moment, Harry felt a
wash of rage, but he steeled himself, thinking that there was absolutely no use
destroying their day of days with news of Hermione�s death. Even in
grief, he had no right to be selfish.

As he stood there, he really didn�t know what to tell them.
What did they expect him to say? Thank you for coming? He wasn�t
feeling the least bit thankful about anything.

Ron spoke for him. �Remus and I
are going with Harry to see her. We�ll be back in a bit, alright?�

There were silent murmurs of assent and Ginny�s quiet hiccup
punctuated it.

The healer gestured for Harry to follow and he did, as Remus
and Ron flanked him.

They were led to the lower levels where there were even less
people to break the stillness. The doors to the morgue stood wide and
unimposing and the healer ushered them through them.

The room wasn�t very big, and there weren�t any covered bodies
left out in plain view. Instead there were slots built into the walls, rising
high up into the ceiling. The bottom-most shelves had numbers,
designating each column, and along the side, written up the wall, were letters.
The room was almost freezing cold.

The healer went to one side and flicked his wand at a
compartment. A scroll slid out and the healer tapped his wand on its
surface. A line on the scroll glowed red and a hiss permeated through the
room.

The healer looked up one wall and Harry followed his gaze. A
block several feet up slid from one of the slots, a faint shimmering sound disrupting the
silence.

Harry�s stomach dropped and he closed his eyes.

He felt someone squeeze his shoulder. �You don�t have to do this
now.� It was Remus.

Harry struggled to speak. �I have to.� Or I�ll keep
telling myself it didn�t happen�

The enchanted platform slid to the examination area, right where
they stood. There was a blanket over her and the healer muttered an
incantation to remove the magical casing surrounding her.

The healer looked to Harry for confirmation and reluctantly, Harry
nodded.

The blanket was folded back, down to her shoulders and there she
was.

Harry thought he wouldn�t be able to bear it. He thought
that the first sight of her remains would have him turning and fleeing, but he
supposed he was remembering her blood and pain. Now she was clean of all
that. Her pallid skin was bereft of the stains of death and her hair was
free of blood. There were bits of her neck on the other side of her that
were torn open and he averted his gaze from it, concentrating on her
face. Her eyes were closed, of course, but he wasn�t going to say
she looked to be asleep, because she wasn�t. He had seen her asleep. Watched her sleep in his arms. This was utterly
different. She wasn�t going to wake up again.

He placed his hand on her forehead. It was cold like
ice.

A deep abiding sadness seeped through him and his hand trembled.

He loved her so much. And the pain of losing her was just so
unbelievable. He had wept when he lost Sirius and he had grieved for Dumbledore, both deaths wringing
sorrow from the very depths of him, but what do you do when a piece of your
soul has been ripped away and shattered?
What comfort could be had when right now his heart just kept breaking, and
breaking, and�

I can�t� I can�t do this. I can�t just�just go on living,
can I? How can I do that when there�s this abyss inside me that seems to
go on forever?

He felt himself losing it.

What am I going to do without you, Hermione?

He managed to blink back his tears as he took controlling breaths.
He might have whispered her name before closing his eyes and finally turning
away.

He walked out of there without looking back. There was a
hallway and he needed to cross it. There was a lift, and he used it to
rise through the levels. There was a lobby, and he left it. When he
was outside, he didn�t know where he wanted to go. He just wanted to get
away.

He turned and Remus was there. He
hadn�t the words to make sense of it all.

�Do you want to go back to Grimmauld Place, Harry?� Remus asked.

Mutely, Harry nodded. He didn�t trust himself to
speak. He didn�t know if he could trust himself to do anything.

Remus�s grasp on his
shoulder was firm, and with a gentle yank, Remus apparated them both.

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

Harry found the silence of the
dark room appropriate as he lay on her bed. Her scent on the pillows lent a painful
reminder of her, but strangely enough, he didn�t want to forget. He
didn�t want to block out the images of her. He needed to remember
her being in this room; being with her as they talked; laughed; made love�

He remembered Crookshanks. Where
was that beast? She had told him she left Crookshanks
with her parents, but he hadn�t seen the cat-kneazle
in the house.

Shifting to his side, he stared out of her window, the London sky hazy over the
city.

How did this happen? How did this all go to hell so quickly?
Where did last month�s paradise that was Hermione go?

Just that morning, they had been so happy. He had never seen her
so beautiful and they were kissing, and holding hands, and they danced to
lovely music. They had read letters under the moonlight and they were
going to make love, right there beneath the trees.

What had happened?

What happened?

He couldn�t believe it. Couldn�t fathom it.

Harry was trying to understand just when and how it was all going
to sink in. And when the shock of it wore off, he had to wonder what he
was going to do. Was he going to rampage all over London, blowing up
things and people?

If I ever live through this� if by some miracle I find a way to�to
move on� The words were like a curse to
him. He thought that the person who invented the words never knew what
love and loss was like if he thought anybody can just �move on� like some
tourist moseying through some dinky museum� I�m going to kill those Death
Eaters. Every single one of them will die for this. And Voldemort... I�m going to make him suffer for everything
and everyone he�s taken away from me. The last thing Voldemort will hear is Hermione�s name and he�s going to know that
she is the reason I�m sending him back to hell�

Hermione.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his tears to stop, but that was
impossible. He wept. There was just absolutely no way he could get
through this without shedding his tears in private.

Several minutes later, he regained control of his emotions and sat
on the edge of her bed. He bent over
his knees and composed himself. He took deep, cleansing breaths as he
continued to stare out of the window for long minutes at a
time.

He didn�t know how much time had passed, with him staying just
like that, before he heard the sound of footsteps outside. Seconds later,
someone opened the door.

Light sliced into the room, illuminating Hermione�s dresser where
he could see her colorful beaded necklaces and her white hat with the dainty
lavender ribbon decorating it. He closed his eyes, remembering how she
would hold different beads to her neck, determining which ones she liked
best.

�Harry?� It was Ron.

He didn�t reply. He wanted Ron to leave him alone.

Ron didn�t. �Harry, there�s� been a development.�

Development? thought Harry bitterly. What
in hell does that mean? What the fuck do I care?

�Sod off, Ron,� he said. �I can�t deal with that Order shite right now.�

�It�s about Hermione.�

Harry didn�t react.

Ron went on. �She�s��

�Gone. That�s all I know,� said Harry, a choke catching in
his throat. �Nothing matters anymore. And I can�t�I don�t even know
if I realize it yet, Ron. It hasn�t� it hasn�t sunk in. I�m
thinking about it right now and it seems so outside of me� so please, just leave
me alone��

�She�s not dead, mate.�

Harry�s heart constricted and he turned to look at Ron, his eyes
blazing furious as he got to his feet. Ron had come into the room and
Harry went to him, ready to attack him as he pointed to the door. �Get
out. Now! Or I swear I�ll��

Ron made an exasperated sound and stood his ground. �Harry,
shut it and listen to me. They found something in her blood.
And�I�m not entirely sure what they�re saying, but they�they seem to think that
whatever it is that�s inside her will�well, it�ll make her rise back to life.�

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

Harry burst through the fireplaces of St. Mungo�s,
dismissing the soot on his face and clothes.
He waited impatiently for Ron who followed seconds later.

�This way,� said Ron, gesturing to the doors.

Harry stormed through them and down the long corridors that
followed.

Their brisk walk brought them to the �Special Injuries Unit� where
Remus and Arthur rose from the waiting room chairs to meet
them.

�Where is she?� Harry immediately asked.

Remus nodded.
�I�ll get the healer to explain��

�Where is she?� Harry growled more
forcefully.

Arthur held him by the shoulders. �Harry, calm down��

�I want to see her,� Harry said. �And I want to know what�s
going on.�

�Please!� Arthur cried desperately. �We�re getting to
that. I implore you to sit and have this all explained, alright?�

Harry was about to go on another rampage when he felt a hand
squeezing his shoulder. He turned and it was Ron, raw pain in his
gaze. Seeing Ron like that did
more for Harry than anything Remus or Arthur had
said. He realized only then that Ron was hurting almost as much as he
was.

�I�m asking you to calm down,� Ron said. �I�I want to understand
what�s happening� for her.�

Harry felt the fight leaving him and he expelled a deep
breath. He was being a prat�a big one,
particularly towards Ron. �Alright. Alright, then. I�m
sorry. I�m just��

�It�s alright, Harry. No need to explain.�

Remus shifted his gaze
between the two of them contemplatively before he left to call the healer
over.

Harry sat on one of the many chairs. Ron sat across from
Harry and Arthur took to leisurely pacing nearby.

Harry stared blankly at the floor, fingers fidgeting.

What Ron had told him at Grimmauld Place hadn�t
quite settled into his system yet. He was only just beginning to absorb the
shock of Hermione�s death when Ron showed up at the door. Harry wasn�t
quite ready to climb out of that hole he was digging for himself, and he refused to cling to hope even if his mind was
telling him to do otherwise.

Ron was in no better shape. He was biting on his
fingernails, his gaze on nothing in particular.

Remus returned, healer
in tow. The healer wasn�t a tall man; a bit round, but not terribly
stout. His healer robes were gray, with vertical black stripes. His
hair was a peppered black, the line of which crept high upon his forehead. His dark brown face was pleasant and
compassionate; even his eyes seemed to be made for soothing aches and pains.

Healer Kearney wouldn�t have seemed so small if he wasn�t in such towering
company. Harry was the smallest of them and even he had to look down to make eye contact with
the healer.

The healer gestured for everyone to sit.

Arthur sat with them as the healer was made to settle nearest to
Harry.

�This is Healer Kearney,� said Remus.
�He�s the primary healer for Hermione�s case. Healer, this is Harry
Potter.�

Healer Kearney was not introduced to anybody else and he merely gave Harry a
nod. �I�ll get right to the point, then. Ms. Granger was attacked
by a vampire approximately four hours ago. The bite marks on her neck, of
course, are the prime indicator for the examiner to
test for a vampire attack, the results of which are obvious. She also sustained
a sword wound to her abdomen, but in this case, that is merely her
secondary cause of death. There is evidence that there was an attempt to
clot the wound and minimize the loss of blood.�

�That was me,� said Harry, managing not to choke on his
emotions. �I tried� was that wrong?�

�Not really,� said Healer Kearney. �It didn�t make anything worse. That was the best you could have done under the
circumstances, but as you know, it didn�t do any good, either. The blood loss wouldn�t have stopped
because she was already infected at the time. With open wounds like hers,
the infection seeks the easiest and most effective means of killing her.
In this case, it expelled her life blood through her wounds.�

So far, Harry was not hearing what he wanted to hear. �What
infection are you talking about?�

�Vampirism,� said the healer. �Muggles
call it a virus. For us it�s a veneficus.
Literally, �poisonous magic�. Lycanthropy is a veneficus contracted
by a were�s bite, or in some cases scratches from its claws.
In this case, vampirism is a veneficus contracted
by a blood exchange between the vampire and its victim. Necessarily, the
vampire drinks the blood of its victim first, releasing dormant veneficus into her entire system, then the vampire
can either choose to let its victim die from blood loss or choose to let its victim live by giving its own blood for the victim to drink, in which case the veneficus is awakened in her system and
proceeds to infect her. The vampire blood acts like a catalyst to the veneficus it released inside her, and
eventually, the activated veneficus will �reanimate� her
dead body.�

Harry frowned, and he focused on cramming this information into
his head.

Ron�s eyes widened. �So, are you telling us that you expect
her to rise� as a vampire?�

Arthur seemed troubled, but Remus
remained stoic.

The healer nodded. �It�s the only way, or else she won�t
rise at all. Every once in a while, we get a wizard or a witch in this
hospital that have provisions in their hospital records for this sort of�
situation; that in case they die of a vampire bite, they authorize this
hospital, or some other particular person to� execute them.
Usually, this means a decapitation. It�s to prevent reanimation in the
off chance that the vampire activated the veneficus inside them. In the absence
of provisions for execution, we let the family or spouse of the victim
decide. In Ms. Granger�s case, she lists three decision makers in
particular order. The first two are her parents, who
have�tragically�passed on. The third and last decision maker is Mr. Harry
Potter.�

Harry blinked. �M-Me?�

Healer Kearney nodded calmly. �Yes. You understand, Mr. Potter, that if there had been no one else left to decide,
the standard procedure would be to let her rise. But since you have been
given this decision, you may, or may not choose reanimation.�

Harry gaped. �Y-You want me to decide if I�ll let her live
or�or have her head cut off?�

Ron made a horrified sound.

The healer merely nodded.

Harry couldn�t believe they had even asked. He rose indignantly to his feet.
�Oh, well, you know me! I like the thought of someone lopping off parts
of her! Why not her head� ARE YOU SHITTING ME? No one and I
mean no one cuts off her head. Do you understand? Should I
even be telling you this?�

Remus looked
unmoved. �Now, Harry��

Harry stared at him, shocked. �Do you want me to say
otherwise? God, Remus!�

Arthur raised his hands for calm. �Of course he
doesn�t! Calm down, Harry.�

Ron stood right by Harry. �Well, I say let her rise.
And if in some twisted, parallel universe Harry lets them execute her, I
won�t. Do you hear me, dad? I won�t!�

Arthur looked to Remus helplessly.

Remus stared at them
with an unwavering gaze. �I�m not saying we shouldn�t let her rise.
Just that� it�s not easy to live with an affliction, Harry. You
don�t know what it�s like, and I�m just a werewolf. Twenty-seven days of
the month I can lead a relatively normal life as a human. It will be much
different for Hermione. She doesn�t get to transform back into a human. She will be a vampire for all eternity.
No walking in the day. No eating in restaurants. No sleeping on
a bed. She�ll need to stay in a dungeon, and sleep in a coffin, and thirst
for human blood.�

�I�ll give her that blood if I have to!� Harry cried. �I�ve read
about vampires too, Remus, and I know what she�s
going to become.�

Remus shook his
head. �There�s no knowing a vampire until you�re staring one in
the face. I�ve met a few. Werewolves have a tendency to seek them out every once in a
while. We�re natural servants of them,
you see. They�re not human, Harry. Not the tiniest bit. They
have their own culture; their own ways. They are nothing like you,
or even me. You have to understand this before you make this
decision.�

Harry clenched his fists. How can Remus
even put this to question? This was Hermione they were talking
about. They had a chance to have her back. He could not
understand why Remus was telling him not to
let Hermione rise.

He shook his head, glaring at his guardian. �Do you want me
to have her decapitated, then?�

Remus sighed.
�That�s not what I want. I want to see her again, same as
you. I�m just� well��

�What? What are you trying to say?�

�Nothing. Just� Harry, long after the lot of us� dies, she�ll be
alive. She�ll be immortal. She�ll be alone.�

Harry actually gave pause at this.

Immortal�

�Hermione won�t ever be alone,� Harry said resolutely.
�People will find her and will want to be with her. She�ll always have
someone to turn to.�

Remus was about to say
something more but stopped, clamping his mouth shut.

Harry took this to mean the discussion was over. �Healer Kearney, we�ll let
her rise.�

Ron nodded, clapping Harry�s back to show his approval.

Remus exchanged looks
with Arthur but said nothing.

The healer nodded. �Very well. We expect her to rise
in about an hour; maybe two. So we must take this time to get you
oriented with this entire procedure.�

�There�s a procedure?� Harry asked.

�Yes. At any rate, it begun the moment we found out the veneficus was in her blood. We
immediately moved her to the dungeons��

Harry�s mouth dropped at this piece of information.

�Hang on,� said Ron. �Dungeons?�

Healer Kearney patiently went on. �The newly risen almost always have a
violent thirst for blood. They will always seek the nearest
source, and unattended, they can kill enough people to sate their blood
lust. A regular hospital ward is no place for someone with this
condition. Vampires are strong, and lethal. It is imperative
that they are brought to the dungeons before they rise and are properly
restrained.�

�Restrained?� Harry said indignantly.
�Like how restrained?�

�Shackled, Mr. Potter. Hand and foot.   I assure
you, those shackles are as much to keep her safe as everyone around her.
She will be given a comfortable bed, anyhow. The best to be had. We
feel that the newly risen have enough to deal with without having to wake up to
a lumpy mattress. Besides� a vampire�s resting place is an essential part
of them. We try to make the transition as easy as possible.�

Harry could not seem to advance his thoughts. �With
shackles?�

Healer Kearney was not the least bit bothered by Harry�s objections. �We
have called in the best Initiator vampire society has to offer. He charges
exorbitant fees in his private practice, but certain� organizations have so
kindly provided the funds to pay for his employ in the Special Injuries ward of
St. Mungo�s. His name is Cicero Iswold and he will help Ms. Granger cope during this very
critical time. Guiding the transition of
human to vampire is no small thing, Mr. Potter, and it is therefore best left
to professionals, at least from the rising to the first two weeks of Ms. Granger�s
new life.�

Harry frowned and made a dismissive gesture. �Yes,
whatever.�

�There is no whatever for the newly risen, Mr. Potter,�
said a voice from somewhere within the room. Everyone searched for the source
of it and found two expensively clad feet emerging from shadows Harry didn�t even realize were there. �Rising
from the dead as a vampire is more horrific than anybody realizes. More
often than not, the victim�s last memory is
beastly eyes and fangs closing in on them, usually preceded by images of death
and blood. You see, it�s seldom that a vampire turns more than one victim
a night. Usually, it kills everyone else first�violently�and then
saves the victim for last. By that time, the victim would be too
terrified to do anything else but scream bloody murder.�

Harry felt his insides constrict. He had heard Hermione�s
screams; had heard her terror. He didn�t even want to imagine what it had
been like for her.

Healer Kearney smiled. �Mr. Potter, this is Cicero Iswold.
Initiator extraordinaire.�

Cicero Iswold stepped further into the
light and came into full view. He wore expensive robes over his expensive
suit, a briefcase clutched in his hand. His eyes were of the clearest
blue, almost transparent, and his hair a dark chocolate brown with what looked
to be strange highlights of red. There was a beautiful quality to his
face, like he was so unattainably pure. Everything from his perfect hair
to his perfect shoes was impressive, except for one thing.

Harry scowled. �What are you, twelve?�

Ron looked down at Cicero�s puny
frame. �Thirteen, maybe.�

�Ron!� Arthur cried, though he looked as perplexed as Ron and
Harry were.

Cicero looked elegantly
unaffected. �Sixteen when I was turned, actually, but it�s been two
hundred years for me since. My birth parents, unfortunately, weren�t the
tallest folks in the neighborhood so I�ve been getting flack about how I look
for two centuries. One gets used to it.�

�You�re one of them,� Harry said in awe. �A vampire, I
mean.�

Ron inched away from Cicero, bumping into
Arthur.

�Of course I�m a vampire,� Cicero said. �I
can�t properly help the newly-risen if I
didn�t know about rising, myself. And mister�� he eyed Ron intently �� Weasley, you needn�t worry about your neck. I�ve
fed. Your blood is safe from me. But be that as it may, if you
intend to see Ms. Granger through this new life of hers, it wouldn�t do to be
so ignorant of our ways, either, unless you�re planning to be afraid of her
your whole life. Incidentally, your fear will only taunt her blood
lust. It�s like you putting whipped cream and a cherry on your neck and
inviting her to pudding.�

Harry would rather not have images of Hermione and Ron
experimenting with whipped cream and cherries. �Mr. Iswold,
I�d like to know exactly what it is that you do.�

Cicero smiled, the tips
of his fangs barely showing through his lips. �Ah, you are eager to
understand. This is good. Come, let us sit down and I will explain
as best I can. Healer Kearney, thank you for your help. I
can take it from here.�

The healer nodded, saying his goodbyes to everyone before retiring
further into the ward.

Cicero took a moment to
glance at Remus, eyebrow arching. �You are a
werewolf.�

Remus smiled mildly and
nodded.

�You�ve a pack? A master?�

�No. I choose not to be part of a pack. And I� prefer
not to have a master.�

Cicero shrugged.
�Who was your Initiator?�

�Albus Dumbledore.�

Cicero�s eyes
sparkled. �Ah, one of the best a were can
have. Very caring. Perhaps
a bit too much.�

�Indeed. He built me a house in Hogsmeade
and grew a whomping willow tree to protect me during my transformations.�

Cicero nodded. �I
was sorry to hear about his death. He was a great man. The vampire
community mourned his loss.�

Harry had to feel a bit amazed at that. All the creatures of
the forest and water had mourned Dumbledore�s passing. He never
realized that vampires did, as well.

They couldn�t exactly attend the ceremony, could they?

Cicero turned his
translucent blue gaze back to Harry. �No, we could not.�

Harry was startled for a bit before he frowned. �Not the
first time I had my mind read. That�s not entirely polite, just so you
know.�

Cicero smiled
apologetically. �No, it is not. I apologize, but one of the gifts I
acquired after I turned was mind reading, and it�s not even a conscious effort
on my part. I just hear thoughts, particularly when a person
broadcasts. I have a more difficult time blocking it out. But then,
I was a muggle when I was turned. Ms. Granger�s
case will be different. She was a witch. While she will still be
able to perform some spells, a considerable number of her witch abilities will
be cancelled out by her vampire abilities. First thing you have to
understand for this transition, Mr. Potter, is that Ms. Granger is no longer
human. She may look like one; or act like one� she may even love like
one, but she isn�t one. That�s the awful truth.�

Harry�s jaw tightened. �Humanity is sometimes a state of
mind.�

�Funny how you say that. We don�t even know if she will be
the same Hermione when she rises. There are many factors to consider when
a person is turned. Sometimes, the trauma of their death is so great that
all that�s left of them is a shadow of their former selves, and it�s all
downhill from there as they give in to the madness of blood lust. In such
case, there is very little I can do in terms of reintroducing them back to
their family and friends. If madness has taken Ms. Granger�s mind, you
cannot expect her to return to you. If she does, it�s only to slaughter
the lot of you without conscience, and then she will seek those of her kind:
those who will identify with her state of� preference. You must learn to
accept this possibility, Mr. Potter.�

Harry looked at him apprehensively and caught Ron�s worried stare.

�You know I don�t really think she�s mental when I say she is,�
Ron blurted. �That�s just a figure of speech, Harry. There�s really
nothing crazy about her� well, most times��

Harry shot him a glare just as Arthur did the same.

�Mental doesn�t even cut it, Mr. Weasley,� said Cicero. �We call
it madness, yes, but perhaps the saddest part is, they will eventually gain
control of their faculties and actually realize that they enjoy this lifestyle
of blood, death and power. But we are getting rather sidetracked� there�s
still every possibility that she will rise as the same sweet, hauntingly
beautiful and caring Ms. Granger you know� except that she drinks human blood
and sleeps in a coffin�� He chuckled softly.

Harry couldn�t even begin to understand how Cicero found the humor
in it. Sure, the guy�s been alive for two hundred years, but weren�t
there just things that stayed un-funny?

Cicero was not the least
bit deterred by his tough audience. �As an Initiator, I will help get her
through her critical first two hours. It�s very fortunate that her rising
is in perfect time. She�ll wake up and we can get her through the initial
blood lust, which can be a bitch, I tell you, and then she�ll go back to
sleep. Day break is but a few hours away. I already have my coffin
in her rising chamber��

Harry�s brows knotted. �Your coffin?�

�Why, yes. I will be there when she first rises and I have
to be there when she wakes up the following night. It shall be like that
for the next three nights or so, depending on how quickly she gets through the
first blood lust.�

�So, what, you�re going to let her drink your blood all those
three nights?�

�Gods, no,� said Cicero patiently.
�Vampires only drink each other�s blood for emergencies and�ahem�sex.
I�m thinking Ms. Granger won�t much be in the mood.�

Harry narrowed his eyes at the little man. �I�m thinking
you�re right, you puny little bastard.�

�Now, Mr. Potter� I never take advantage of my clients. It
isn�t proper and it�s bad for business. I will provide Ms. Granger with human,
living blood, and it shall be done in a clinical, professional manner.
It�s part of my service. Incidentally, I�d like to know how she swings.�

�Swings?�

�Heterosexual? Homosexual? Bisexual?�

Ron�s eyes widened while Arthur and Remus
blushed.

Harry steeled himself. �Heterosexual, as far as I know.�

�Good enough,� said Cicero, nodding.
�I�ve found that the newly-risen are
more comfortable feeding off their gender preference. Most heterosexual
males, for example, wouldn�t touch another man�s neck with their lips no matter
how hungry they get. Rip into them with their nails,
yes, but tender suction� forget it. I�m a businessman. I could not afford
the cost of clients slaughtering the food source on a daily basis.�

Harry expelled a breath. �So let me get this straight�
you�ll bring someone in� to feed her?�

�Essentially, yes. Mind you, if she rises as the person you
knew, she will find feeding difficult. There is a natural revulsion for
people to feed off what they still believe to be their own kind. There�s
an element of perversion to it, admittedly, but a vampire has to learn to live
with that, or suffer hunger which will eventually be painful. And she
can�t substitute human blood with animal blood either. Living off animals
is not a healthy option. Animal blood lacks the essential life force that human blood has. Most animals don�t
have souls, and that fact makes animal blood incapable of nourishing a vampire
with what keeps vampires beautiful, and elegant and altogether enviable� at
least to those of the vampire persuasion. Prolonged ingestion of animal
blood can lead to real madness, decay, and at the very least, ugliness.
I don�t know about you, but if I�m going to live forever, I�d rather be
beautiful while I�m at it.�

Ron sniffed. �I don�t know why, but I suddenly had an image
of Draco Malfoy in all his
conceited glory when you said that.�

Cicero laughed. �Ah, Malfoy. Long history of
vampire ancestors, that.�

�Not surprised.�

�Yes� they do seem to have an uncanny ability to suck the
psychic energies out of people around them. Psychic vampires, I call
them. They replenish their strength by making everyone feel utterly inferior.�

Remus grinned. �A
distinct Malfoy trait.�

Cicero shrugged.
�I can�t say I disapprove, considering. Now where were we? Ah, yes,
feeding. I can help initiate Ms. Granger to this necessary fact of
vampire life. I�ll even teach her� table manners, so to
speak. Tell me, what is her type of male?�

Harry blinked. �What?�

�You�re looking at �im,� Ron replied,
nudging his chin in Harry�s direction.

Cicero seemed vastly
amused by this. �Dark featured, skinny intellectual, eh?�

�I�m not skinny!� Harry cried. �And she doesn�t love me
because of my looks! Well, maybe she does, a little�, but��

�Your looks will do, Mr. Potter,� said Cicero. �It will
help her adjust if the person who feeds her has physical features similar to
her male type. It�s familiar and comforting, though it�s necessary that
they never look too much like the ones they date. It�s a delicate
psychological balance��

Harry scowled. �I�m beginning to get the feeling that this
feeding isn�t as professional as you make it out to be, Mr. Iswold.�

�Well� there�s of course a sexual element to the entire process of
feeding. It�s true enough for humans and the food they eat��

Harry�s eyes flashed. �Excuse me? And you
expect me to step back and watch you throw men at her like that? No bloo�shite, I feel
ridiculous swearing like that, now��

�As I�ve said, I try to keep it as professional and clinical as I
can.�

A determined gleam came over Harry�s gaze. �I can feed her.
I don�t mind. Saves you the trouble of making arrangements with anybody
else.�

Remus shook his
head. �Harry��

Cicero sighed.
�You most certainly will not feed her at this time, Mr. Potter.
You won�t even be allowed in the rising chamber these next three days.�

Harry�s gaze bore through him indignantly. �Now, wait just
one minute! I can�t let her wake up with a bunch of strangers!
She�ll be terrified! She�ll look for me! She�ll��

�Be ravenous,� interrupted Cicero smoothly.
�Hungry beyond imagination, and even if she recognizes you, she will gain
nothing feeding off someone like you who doesn�t know the first thing about
dealing with a newly-risen
vampire. Do you think I prowl the streets and bribe just any willing
bloke to give blood? The humans in my employ are professionals. A
lot of them have been working for me for years. This isn�t an
orgy, Mr. Potter. That�s what I�m trying to make you understand!�

Harry leaned back, monstrously displeased. �So she can�t see me in the next three days? Is that
what you�re saying?�

�Yes. Believe me when I say that seeing you in the next
three days will be very traumatic for her. If she sees you and is
unprepared for the fact that she�ll look at you and think, �Hmm, I desperately
want to know if my darling Harry Potter�s blood is sweet or robust,� it can
push her to madness. Is that what you want, Mr. Potter? Drive her
insane because she wants to rip into your throat in spite of her heart telling
her she doesn�t want to hurt you?�

Harry let Cicero�s words sink in. �No.�

�Of course you don�t. So you will let me handle this.
You may keep tabs on her progress, of course. I will always be glad to discuss
such matters with you on a regular basis, but in the next few days, I�m afraid
I�m going to have to be her best friend.�

Harry and Ron�s gaze flickered.

For the first time since this tragedy occurred, Harry felt real
jealousy. This blood-drinking
business with other men was one thing, but their friendship with her� that was
supposed to be untouchable. That was supposed to be constant. Now Cicero was telling them
that even that had to be set aside for the time being.

�Not as easy as you thought, is it?� Remus
said.

There was no spite in his tone. In fact, there was nothing
but kindness in it.

Harry sighed. �Just do what you have to do, Mr. Iswold. But please� take good care of her. She�s the
most important person in my life.�

Cicero smiled gently,
nodding. �I always take care of them, Mr. Potter. You can�t be in
this business and not care. It makes for bad vampires, and
honestly, bad vampires are such a bother.�

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

The crush of jaws shot pain right through her but Hermione found
that she couldn�t scream. She couldn�t even move. The creature had
her pinned against the wall, house junk and debris falling all around
them.

The teeth withdrew. She felt that much, but the creature�s
lips remained. He sucked, with the gentle flick of his tongue coaxing the
beat of the vein in her neck. The pain disappeared, and she felt
blessed. She generously tilted her head to the side, willing him to drink
his fill.

Vampire� Her thoughts were swimming. She knew, even in
this euphoric state, that she was being drained of life. He�s bespelled me. And even if that thought bothered
her the tiniest bit, there was very little she could do.

�I knew you�d come,� said the vampire in its silky, lulling
voice. �Your father said you would��

�Dad�� she breathed. And for a moment, her forehead creased as she
remembered, and she saw her parents� bodies. Tears pooled in
her eyes as the horror of it came at her again. She would never forget.
She would never be able to. Their blank gazes. The dark, crimson
tide of blood. The coppery scent of death. She choked on a
sob. �You killed them��

She could hear shouting from beneath the trap. Someone was
trying to get to her. It was a voice she knew well, but for now, she
couldn�t exactly place who the
voice belonged to.

�Shhhh,� said the vampire. �Don�t
cry.�

She struggled a bit and the vampire smiled. He was still but
a shadow with slanted golden eyes.

�What a strong will Potter�s whore possesses,� he said, sounding
impressed. �No wonder he chose you. You are proving to be more
interesting to me than those wizards let on and you are certainly lovelier than
I imagined you to be. The banality of your parents suggested nothing of
your better qualities, but I had to admit, their constant praise of you
intrigued me. And by showing them my interesting in you, it was quite
easy to get them to invite me into your home��

Never invite a vampire into your home. Vampires gain
immunity from common deterrents when you invite them into your home� they gain
even more power, like resistance to garlic,
religious objects and magical ward charms made by a fanciful child�

She opened her mouth to try and cry out, but he shushed her again.

�I think�� Mischief gleamed from his eyes. �I think I won�t
kill you after all��

She watched in terrified fascination as his fangs gleamed and he
bit into his wrist. She heard the distinct squishing sound of breaking
skin. He held up his fist as blood flowed from his wound and she thought
he was going to punch her, but instead, he jammed his open wrist against her
lips.

The scream that climbed out of her throat was muffled and useless;
the gush of his blood sliding against her tongue. She tried not to
swallow. She tried to spit. But he clamped his other hand over her
nose and she couldn�t breathe. Her fingers clawed to remove his hands, but he
was strong, and she couldn�t resist the instinct to survive by taking gulps of
air through her mouth.

She swallowed and rasped for breath. She was helpless as he
chuckled at the success of his methods. She swallowed again, and again,
just so she could breathe. She needed precious air to fill her lungs.

There were explosions from beneath and he grabbed her by the
throat again.

�I suppose I�ll have to be
going, now,� he said. �And worry not, love� this won�t be the last you�ll
see of me.�

Hope surged at the thought that he was going to leave her
alive.

There�s a way, she thought desperately. There�s a way
to expel the veneficus he sowed inside
me. She prayed that he would leave. If she didn�t want to turn,
she had to be treated with potions now.

But he smiled as he looked into her eyes. �Oh, Hermione� I do know what you�re thinking.
You cannot fool Janus.�

It was the only warning he made. She heard the whisper of
steel slicing through the air. She saw the tip of the blade pulsing in
the darkness. His hand on the hilt was skilled and menacing.

He twirled the sword deftly before he plunged it right through
her.

She gasped, shocked at what he had done, before the icy pain
exploded through her body.

He slid out the blade, dragging agony through her a second time
before he tossed her to the floor.

She hit the floor hard, splotches of silver flashing in her
eyes.

The pain from the sword wound rippled through her as she felt her life
gushing from her wounds. She coughed, blood gurgling up from her
throat.

Then the entire attic exploded, wood and glass flying above and
around her. The charms around her attic door were knocked out of place by
his magic.

When the explosion settled, she found that she was suddenly bathed
in moonlight and blood.

Janus turned to her and
she saw him. He was tall, slender and lovely. His porcelain skin
gleamed in the light of night and his short locks of black hair framed an
almost feminine face. He smirked before he turned to his exit and
vanished.

The next thing she saw were the warm green eyes of Harry. He was holding
her. Trying to stop the bleeding. He was saying things to
her. She couldn�t exactly tell what those words were.

She saw his tears, and for that, she felt a deep well of sadness
within her. She was dying, and she was going to leave him behind.

Harry was going to be alone again and she couldn�t bear the
thought, but she couldn�t stop life leaving her, either.

She wept for him one last time before the darkness finally took
her.

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

She opened her eyes to a dim room.

The smell of earth and stone wafted to her nostrils, mixed with
the intoxicating scent of lamp oil. The light of the fires flickered
against the ceiling and in her disorientation, she couldn�t even make out what
the ceiling was made of.

Her bed was soft. And warm. Her head pressed against a
perfect pillow.

Slowly, she tried to move, but she heard chains.

Cold steel bit into her wrists, and the surprise of it caused her
to jerk. Her ankles were bound as well, and while the length of the
chains seemed to allow her some measure of movement, she was unable to quash
the panic that began to rise in her chest.

The memories poured into recall and her heart began to pound with terror.

The blood, she thought as her chest constricted.
She began to hyperventilate. I can smell�

There was a second heartbeat thrumming in her ears, and the rush
of blood in someone�s veins flooded her mind. It was like music to her
ears, and that horrified her. She clamped her shackled hands over her
ears and it muffled the sounds, but she couldn�t stop the scent snaking into
her senses.

It was wonderful. There was no coppery smell. Just the
aroma of sweet promises and warmth. It would sate the unbelievable hunger
growing within her; take the hollow pain away. She needed it.
Wanted it. She longed for the feel of skin against her lips. The
rush of life gushing into her mouth and on her tongue.

No.

She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as a throbbing pain in her
mouth took over.

Someone placed a warm hand on her forehead and she felt waves of
comfort coursing through her body from the touch.

�Breathe,� said an accompanying, gentle voice. �Breathe, Ms.
Granger��

She followed that sound, taking painful gasps through her
lips. It was more familiarity than necessity. She didn�t even think there
was real breath passing through her, but it helped.

The illusion helps�

Some of her panic subsided, and the pain in her mouth ebbed, but the
unmistakable sound of heartbeat and flowing blood remained. The hunger
for that blood still raged, and she knew, without having to find out, that she
had grown fangs.

She remembered Janus. Remembered
what he had done. And even passing from death to un-death, her
mind remained functional.

Hermione knew what she had become, but for that moment, she
refused to believe it. Maybe if she denied it enough, it would undo
itself.

Tears sprang into her eyes as
she took in everything that had happened to her; what she found in the attic;
her parents; what Janus had forced her to do; and
Harry� the despair in his eyes. She could almost hear the little boy in
the cupboard under the stairs. �Don�t leave me!� his eyes had pleaded desperately.

Her heart broke and she began to sob, shaking her head.

�Do you remember who you are?� asked the voice, unimposing in its
quality.

Through the scent of blood and life, she could detect the nearer
smell of his cologne. It was surprisingly soothing, however unfamiliar it
was.

It was mixed with clean skin and soap, but that scent was not
his. It was from someone else. There was another person in the
room, and she yearned for that person.

She looked up, aching to see the face of the man who held
her.

As if detecting her need, he walked to the side of her bed, his
hand shifting to settle on her head. She saw him, saw how young he was,
but his eyes were old. Ancient.

His gaze was filled with kindness, even if she could detect that
ever-present hunger in them. She
wasn�t afraid. She and he were the same, after all.

She focused her thoughts; trying to summon coherence. It was
the only anchor she could think of now. �You�re more than a hundred years
old,� she said.

She didn�t know how she knew that. It was a feeling,
really. Maybe he had told her telepathically.

He smiled slightly. �Two hundred. It�s always hardest
to be accurate between a hundred fifty to three hundred� do you remember what
happened to you, Ms. Granger?�

She closed her eyes, willing the painful memories back.
�Yes.�

�Tell me.�

�I was bitten, and� and Janus made me
drink��

He stayed silent and she opened her eyes. She saw more
compassion radiating from him, a plaintive curve on his lips.

�You know what you are, then?� he asked softly.

Tears leaked out of her eyes again and she sniffed. �Please�
sir��

�Cicero.�

�Cicero� have my�have my friends left me because
I�m� I�m like this?� She couldn�t bear the thought.

His brows knotted, his hand smoothing back her hair. �No,�
he crooned. �Of course not. Your friends� Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley� they are right outside this facility. They
can�t be here with you now because I forbade them to be here. For now, it
is better this way, but I promise you, they are right outside, waiting for me
to tell them that you� remember who you are.�

She could tell that he was telling the truth and her heart
fluttered with relief. �I�I want to see them� I want to��

He shook his head. His resolve was firm, though his regret
was evident. �No. You cannot right now. Not for a
while. Not until we can control your hunger.�

Hunger�

The pain in her mouth began again, her fangs elongating even
more.

The other stranger in the room with them� he was alive. His
blood was warm. She needed it.

No! God, no! It�s wrong. It�s monstrous.
Sacrilege and sin!

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if it would force the hunger
back. �No��

�You must,� said Cicero quietly.
�There is no other way. I can assist you in some manner; like putting the
blood in a cup and have you drink it from there. But you understand that
such is an illusion, and that you deprive yourself of the pleasure of feeding
from its natural vessel.�

�I don�t want to enjoy it!� she cried, bringing up her hands and
clamping it over her ears. Her nails dug into her temples, drawing her
own blood.

Cicero was not
impatient. �You must learn to. You are immortal now, Hermione, and
if you�re going to live forever, you must at least try to take pleasure in
doing so. If you refuse this truth, you will only give yourself over to
eternal madness.�

The heartbeat in her ears quickened. His living blood was calling
to her. Beckoning her to taste. She fought the urge, but it was
beginning to grow painful inside her. It blossomed into agony and her
gaze widened in shock.

�I will be here to teach you,� Cicero said.
�Concentrate on my voice and I will help you through it.�

He broke eye contact with her, and for that moment, she felt
horribly insecure. But he was gesturing to someone; beckoning the other
to approach.

She looked, and she saw him with her vampire eyes. He was
light of frame with dark, short hair. He had a young, pleasant face, like he
could be your neighbor�s son; or that quiet boy you had a secret crush on and
tried to catch a glimpse of when he went to work at the local grocery.

He was not timid when he approached them, but he did not seek to
intimidate, either. His kind gaze matched Cicero�s, and for a
moment, Hermione forgot to be afraid.

Then it happened. The pallor of his skin pulsed underneath,
flashing translucent to the beat of his heart and flow of his blood. He
glowed with life, and she could see where his blood coursed thick.

Neck� wrists� thigh�

She shut her eyes. �No! I can�t��

Cicero�s voice broke
gently through her panic. �This is Allan. He is a student at Oxford University and on weekdays, he works at
the university bookstore. He is a scholar, and he helps his mother
support his two younger sisters��

God, I don�t want to hear that! In what sick world do you
introduce yourself to your food? she thought
bitterly. She shook her head.

�Yes, you must know their names,� said Cicero firmly. �If
you wish to maintain that
shred of humanity you have left, you will know who they are; respect who
they are. If you can�t even know their names, or know what they do, they
will be nothing but cattle to you. Is that what you want, Hermione?�

His words sunk in, and breathing deeply, she let herself realize
the truth of it. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at Allan, before
turning her gaze back to Cicero. �No,� she said softly. �I� I want to respect��

�Yes. Of course you do. Allan?�

Allan met her gaze. �Hullo, Hermione. Scared?�

�Yes,� she whispered.

He smiled kindly. �It�ll be alright. Cicero will take care of
you. You listen to him and you�ll be fine. He�s the best in the
business, after all.�

Cicero chuckled. �How long since your last raise, my friend?�

Allan cocked a smile.

�I pay Allan for this service,� Cicero explained.
�This means I have to provide him with certain supplements and potions to keep
him healthy. Understand, Hermione, that you
don�t have to kill for blood, and you don�t have to force it from people,
either. There will be those who are willing to give� some too willing,
but we�ll get to that later on. For now, Allan is willing to feed
you.�

Again, her tears leaked. Her need for Allan�s blood was
roaring inside her, but the thought that she would feed off someone was
revolting.

Cicero bent over
her. �You must listen to his voice. It is imperative that you
do. Keep yours senses sharp. Try to maintain control over your mind
as you feed. Remember, if you abandon all sense, you can kill him.
Do you want to kill him?�

�No.�

�Then stay aware. I will tear him off you, if I have to, but
I�d rather you try to control yourself. Listen to him, and listen to your
conscience. Allan?�

Cicero�s hand left her
forehead to be replaced with Allan�s.

�Ready, Hermione?� Allan asked.

Her breath trembled as she nodded.

He bent over her, speaking to her about focusing on the tone of
his voice, explaining to her that he would be counting, and all she had to do
was visualize the numbers as he said it. He crossed his arm over her and
gently put his wrist over her lips.

Her instinct and hunger took root like claws. Her hand came
up to grab his wrist and she sunk her teeth into his skin. She heard him hiss,
but the explosion of sensations that went through her as his blood flowed from
her tongue down to her throat was positively orgasmic.

Vaguely, she could hear his voice, piercing softly as his life
pulsed against her lips.

She could feel her eyes rolling to the back of her head at the
ecstasy, and it was delicious beyond belief. She could hear his heartbeat
with his voice. The heartbeat was strong still. She could still
feed off him. His blood was still the blood of the
living.

�Hermione��

Her name� from his lips.

�Hermione��

Be aware. Stay aware. Or you�ll KILL HIM.

The horror of it clenched in her stomach and withdrawing her
mouth, she screamed and shoved him away from her.

She turned away from him in shame, covering her face in her hands
as she tried to curl herself into a ball.
The length of chains hampered her, and she found this frustrating, but
she resigned herself to the fact without much of a fight.

She wept, disgraced by what she had done. �I�m sorry!�
she cried. �I�m so sorry! I�m sorry��

Her apologies poured out of her, even as Allan�s life giving blood
pooled soothing warmth within her.

She didn�t know how long she had been crying before she felt a hand squeezing her
shoulder.

�It�s alright,� came Allan�s wistful voice. �You did
well. You�re fine, Hermione. I�m fine. Hermione?�

�Please� don�t�� she whispered. She didn�t know what she
didn�t want him to do. Perhaps she wished he wouldn�t touch her.

Cicero whispered
soothing words to her, telling her she did well for her first time, reassuring
her Allan was fine. In a while, he coaxed her to look at Allan, and while
tears marred her vision, she could see that Allan was standing, and that he was
smiling at her, though his wrist was wrapped in a thick bandage where some
blood was already getting through.

Cicero handed Allan a
vial and Allan drank it down, grimacing at the taste.

As she began to relax, she realized, to her horror,
that the hunger hadn�t completely gone. It wasn�t as bad, but it
was there, and it was still whispering to be sated.

I can�t take from him again. I�ll kill him. I know I
will!

�You want some more, don�t you?� Cicero asked.

�Make it stop,� she whimpered.

Cicero smiled
plaintively. �I can�t. You will have to feed again, but not
now. Now you have fed enough to keep the pain of hunger away. The
first feeding determines how much control you have on your
instincts. You simply must not abandon reason, or you will want nothing
but blood and death. Your first effort is commendable. You did not
take more than was necessary from Allan. We will hone your control.
It will get easier in time. In the next three days, you will want to keep
feeding. The first blood lust is a beast. I will teach you to tame
it, and eventually, you wouldn�t have to feed all the time. You will be
able to go days without having to draw blood.�

She focused on the words and realized she was grateful for Cicero�s help. She
appreciated his care, but she needed someone far more. �I� I want to see
Harry. Please? I want�� It was a
need�she realized�far more powerful than the blood. Thoughts of Harry set
the hunger aside, and she wanted to cling to that. �I want to be with
him��

�I�m sorry, but you cannot. Not yet.�

She heard the finality in his voice, so she tried not to cry,
though her lips trembled a bit. She was so wracked with emotion that on
any other day, she would be disgusted with
herself. She would be scolding herself for being impossibly weak, but she
supposed today she could allow herself some leeway. She had died.
That was a pretty good excuse, wasn�t it?

�It is almost daybreak,� he said. �I will put you back to
sleep and you will rise tonight. When you do, I will be here, and we will
do this again.�

�Is�Is Allan��

�No. It will be someone different. Allan will need his
rest. I will be bringing a boy named Ethan. He is as kind as Allan,
though he can be a bit of a flirt.�

Hermione couldn�t help but worry. Allan had strangely grown
on her. She didn�t know if she could shift the comfort she felt for him
so quickly to another, but she supposed she would have to trust Cicero.

Cicero stared into her
eyes and she felt him stroking her mind. Sleep�

It was merely a suggestion, but she couldn�t help giving into
it. Slowly, her eyes closed, letting sleep take over.

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

Harry sat in the waiting room with
Ron, Remus and Arthur. It had been an hour
since Cicero had
descended into
the dungeons to attend to Hermione�s rising, and while Harry understood why he
couldn�t be there, it pained him to think that Hermione would be waking up to
strangers.

His three companions in the waiting room had engaged in quiet
conversation throughout their vigil, and on several occasions, Remus made mention of what he knew of vampires.

�There are factions of them,� said Remus.
�Like societies. The kind of vampire you are will dictate the company you
keep.�

Harry tuned in and out of
their discussions, always letting his thoughts drift back to her.

Several minutes later, the soundproof wall dividing them from the
dungeon�s entrance yawned open.

They all got to their feet anxiously.

Cicero stepped out, his �assistant�, Allan, in tow.

Allan looked a tad peaky and his wrist was wrapped in a bandage.

Harry eyed him with slight hostility before turning to
Cicero. �Well?�

Cicero smiled wanly. �Hermione is in her right mind so far.�

A collective sigh of relief escaped them all.

Cicero went on. �Usually, this is a good sign. While
there have been instances that madness develops later on, I do not see this
happening to Hermione. She was relatively more docile than most newly
risen I�ve encountered, but that�s because her will is strong. As she
grows more comfortable in her new form, you will find that she will develop a
certain� ferocity, but that is a defining vampire trait and it doesn�t
necessarily mean it�s a bad thing. I am proud to report that she
responded well to Allan, treating him with respect and consideration.�

Harry stifled the glare that he desperately wanted to shoot in
Allan�s direction.

�It will be another couple of nights before I can let any of you
see her,� Cicero said. �By that time, I hope to have her prepared enough
to deal with it. In the meantime, you must prepare her� chambers.
Here is my card.� He gave his card out to all of them. �I assume
you know how to use a telephone, Mr. Potter?�

Harry nodded.

�Call the office number and ask for Jaime. Tell her you�re
calling to arrange Hermione Granger�s placement in your home. She will
basically see to everything. All you have to do is give her your
address. Now, be mindful of the hours. Jaime is a vampire.
She likes her sleep.�

Harry squinted at the card and saw that their hours were from 9 pm
to 5 am.

Talk about a dead end nine to five�

�I shall be retiring soon,� said Cicero. �You can come back later
after sundown, if you wish, though you still won�t be allowed to see her. But
if you do stop by, I will gladly report on her progress. In the meantime,
you might want to acquire and read the following books�� He handed Harry a
list. �They best explain how to cope with vampirism in the family.�

Harry looked the list over briefly. It wasn�t a terribly
long list, but the titles ranged from Understanding Vampires to I
Drink Blood, I Don�t Eat Raw Liver. It was fascinating, if not
outright disturbing.

�Now� if you will be so kind, please see Allan out of the
hospital. He�s a muggle and I�d imagine he could get lost in these
halls. I�d rather not have that happen to him, as he�s one of my more trustworthy employees.�

With that, Cicero turned and closed himself back into the soundproof
anteroom.

�That sounds promising, doesn�t it?� Arthur said.

Remus smiled
plaintively. �Best we could hope for at the moment, at least.�

�I wish he�d told us more, though,� Ron grumbled, exchanging looks
with Harry. �Sounded a bit too clinical for me��

Harry nodded in agreement. He had so many questions for Cicero about Hermione,
but Cicero had popped in and out, droning on about the technical
details. He supposed it was too much to ask Cicero for a more
personal narrative.

�She wanted to see her friends,� Allan suddenly said. �She
was afraid you had abandoned her because of what she�d become.�

Harry�s heart constricted.

�But Cicero assured her you hadn�t,� continued Allan upon seeing the looks on
their faces. �He made her understand that he was the one who forbade you
to see her.�

That was slightly comforting.

�H-How was she?� Harry didn�t know exactly what he wanted to
ask. He had no idea how to deal with the idea of coming back from the
dead, but he supposed Allan would understand what he needed to know. At
least he hoped Allan understood. The guy had done this before, hadn�t he?

�She was very frightened at first, but Cicero and I managed to
calm her. She knew what she was the moment she got to thinking, and I
think that made things easier for all of us. Smart girl.�

Ron smiled a bit. �Still the know-it-all, eh?�

Harry didn�t know what to make of that comment. On the one
hand, he was probably supposed to be proud of her, yet on another, how horrible
could that have been for her? Knowing with certainty that she wasn�t�

Human.

He shook that thought away. �You�You didn�t have to hurt
her, did you?�

Allan looked only mildly surprised with this question.
�No. We didn�t have to use any kind of force. She�s a gentle
soul. She asked for the lot of you, and then later she asked for Harry.�

His breath hitched at that. He wished he could have been
there for her. He wished�

It was rather odd that this person didn�t know who he was.
He supposed he had gotten more used to that than being anonymous, which was
sad. This muggle obviously knew
things that most of his kind didn�t, considering he was standing calmly inside
a wizarding facility and he had just given blood to
the newly risen, yet Allan stood there, unaware of the very things so known to
the Wizarding World. If muggles
and wizards could be so different� how much more different could a vampire be?

Harry was beginning to feel very, very weary.

�We should all get some rest,� Remus
said, gesturing for them to head for the doors. He patted Allan�s
shoulder as a gesture of thanks.

�She mentioned another name,� said Allan.

Arthur smiled. �Ron?�

Allan shook his head. �No. Janus.�

Harry didn�t recognize the name in the least.

�I think it was the vampire who turned her,� said
Allan.

Janus. Harry found himself committing that name to memory, wrapping it in
his rage and marking it. I�m going to find that bastard and I�m going
to kill him for what he did to her. I�m going to string up his�

Arthur and Remus exchanged looks that
Harry recognized at once to be significant.

�What?� Harry asked.

Arthur hesitated.

Remus sighed. �If
we really want Harry on the board, we must share information like this
with him.�

Ron exchanged looks with Harry, and if Harry wasn�t mistaken, he
detected fear and apprehension. Things�familiar things�were coming down
around them. The things that made them children were slowly, but surely, being
torn down for adulthood.

Harry knew that for him, it had come to him in various ways and
aspects. It started with Hermione awakening feelings and emotions in him
that used to be unfathomable, then he went to Godric�s
Hollow where he basically walked into his past so he could look forward; then the horcruxes,
the board, Hermione�s death, Hermione�s rising, and now this�

He didn�t know how Ron went about his own path, but they were
coming to another intersection, as they always did being the best of
friends. Just that some intersections were more pleasant than
others. He�d imagine this little crossroads was just as horrible as the one they shared mourning
Hermione�s death.

Nodding, Arthur sighed. �That information I delivered; the
one Ron accompanied me for� it was a list of new Death Eaters. There have
been a lot of recruits, of late, and most of them are names we could not
trace. Janus was on that list,
and he was reported to be an important person. The only problem was we
couldn�t match his identity to any records we have. It seems� we know now
why this is so. We did, of course, consider the possibility of dark
creatures. Voldemort has, after all, managed to
get the giants, dementors and werewolves to ally
themselves with him, but� vampires have always been a rather�er��

�Snooty lot?� Allan contributed.

For a moment, Harry forgot Allan was part of the
conversation.

They stared at him, all of them realizing that maybe they
shouldn�t have been speaking of these things in front of him.

Allan put his hands up. �Oh, don�t worry about me. I
know nothing about� well, whatever that is. All I know is Vampires can be dreadfully
snobbish. They are only concerned about themselves, how beautiful they
are and why so many people find them fascinating. Some have a social
conscience, like Cicero, but in general, they can�t be depended on to�well��ally�
themselves with anyone. That would be getting their hands too
dirty. They don�t want that. That�s what werewolves are for.�

Remus looked quite
uncomfortable about that.

�Allan, sit over there and wait,� Ron said, pointing to a distant
corner.

�Right,� said Allan, shamefaced and walking to his corner.

Harry turned to Arthur. �Is there any way we can track Janus down?�

Remus caught on
quickly. �Now, Harry��

�Remus, I�m going to make him pay for
what he�s done. Don�t tell me you don�t understand that. You wanted
to kill Peter Pettigrew as badly as Sirius did.�

�Frankly, Peter Pettigrew�s a lot easier to kill than this Janus person,� said Remus.
�A vampire like him� he has to be notorious for something horrible. He would
definitely have to be dangerous. Nobody from the Granger home survived to
tell the tale, Harry, but everything suggests that there weren�t that many
Death Eaters involved. Nobody saw them, for one, and nobody saw Janus when he left. He moved too fast, that�s
why. There had to be a wizard, of course, because someone had to cast the
dark mark, but what if� what if Janus did it all by
himself? You heard what Cicero said.
Wizard vampires don�t necessarily lose all their magical powers. He could
have massacred the lot of aurors and Hermione�s
parents then cast the dark mark by himself. Vampires are killing
machines, in themselves, but what if he�s ancient? That would make him
far worse.�

Harry glared. �I�m not afraid of him.�

Ron frowned. �Well, I am. Harry, if you�re
going to do this, I�m going to ask you nicely to make sure you know what you�re
getting into. I don�t think I can cope with both my best friends
being vampires, and that�s being optimistic. What if Janus
decides you�re not fit to be raised? You�ll just be dead.�

Not the most eloquent speech, but effective enough. Harry
certainly felt the full bluntness of it and actually made him pensive.

Arthur nodded, clapping his son on the back. �At any rate,
we expect Harry to use this information I�ve given him responsibly. We
can depend on you for that, right Harry?�

Grudgingly, Harry nodded.

�Good! Now, let�s take our young friend over there and head
on home. It�s been a rather long day, don�t you think?�

Longest day of my life, Harry
thought.

Arthur led the way and Harry lagged. He didn�t want to leave
Hermione behind but he knew there was nothing he could do for her now. It
was very depressing.

Ron fell back with him and Allan sort of stayed to the side.

When they rose to ground level and stepped out of St. Mungos, Allan turned to them and smiled.

�You�re Harry, right?� Allan said, looking at him.

Harry arched an eyebrow. �Yeah��

Allan jerked his head to the side. �Come here for a
minute.�

Harry arched an eyebrow at Ron questioningly. Ron shrugged.
With that, Harry approached Allan who pulled him even further aside.

�Give me that book list.�

Hesitantly, Harry did.

Allan brought out a pen and crossed out a few books while marking
a few with asterisks. �Those are redundant� this is really important�
this one can be read when you just feel like it�� He looked up and
grinned. �I�m going to let you in on a book that I really think you�ll
need, my friend.�

Harry looked at him warily.

Allan began to write something at the bottom of the list.
�You and Hermione� you�re�erm, together? As
in� you know��

Harry reddened. Was this necessary? �Umm� we��

�I figured as much. Then you have to get this book.�
Allan shoved the list back into Harry�s hand and pointed to the bottom where he
had written: So Your Sweetheart�s A Vampire, 8^th Edition by Angel
N. Buffie. �You have to get the 8^th
Edition, mate, or else you won�t have the chapter about Vampires and leather.�

Harry blinked. �She�um�I don�t think she��

�Get the 8^th Edition anyway. The newer the
better, eh? Check page 281. Very sexy.�

�Right.� Harry couldn�t believe he was committing the page
to memory.

Allan gave him a pat on the shoulder and smiled. �Well then,
I�m off. I�ll probably never see you again, but it has been
interesting. It always is around here.�

Harry finally found it in himself to cock Allan a grin. The
guy wasn�t all that bad� once Harry got over the feeding thing�

Alright, maybe I won�t get over that anytime soon, but I suppose
he did help Hermione. �Thank you,
Allan. For all your help, I mean.�

Allan waved his thanks away. �All part of the service.
Listen, I really got to go. I�ve a Trigonometry exam in a few hours��

�Er�sure��

�Gotta cram, you know, so� ciao!�

�Uh, yeah. Ciao��

Allan walked off with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Harry headed back to his companions.

�What did he want?� Ron asked.

�Nothing. He was just saying goodbye.� Harry could
feel his face warming.

�Muggles can be so barmy,� Ron muttered.

Arthur took out his wand. �Well, grab hold, then. Time
to head on home.�

Ron took his father�s coat and Harry took hold of Remus�s.

With a quick flick of their wands, Harry felt that yank within his
navel as they apparated back to Grimmauld
Place.

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