Well, all you reviewers who asked me whether Hermione would become a vampire or not will finally have a definitive answer.
I don't own Harry Potter. I own Darknight, any future original characters, and some physiological aspects of vampirism.
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As Hermione's blood flowed smoothly down Harry's throat, his mind, once twisted and addled with hunger, soon became clear, and memories began flashing across his vision, like a poorly edited film.
A six-year-old girl, wobbling slightly as she attempted to ride a bicycle for the first time.
A seven-year-old, crying while other kids laughed and kicked her bag of books around.
A twelve-year-old, picking up an envelope addressed to her, with a strange seal stamped on the back. A seal with a lion, a badger, an eagle and a serpent.
The same twelve-year-old, sitting nervously on a stool as a large pointed hat is placed on her head.
The twelve-year-old, sitting on a toilet lid, curled into a ball while crying softly.
A fourteen-year-old, accepting a strange golden necklace from an older woman.
A sixteen-year-old, standing in a dark, filthy pub in front of a large group of other students.
A seventeen-year-old, sending shrieking yellow canaries towards a tall-redheaded boy.
An eighteen-year-old, kissing a pale boy softly on the lips while he slept.
Harry threw himself off of Hermione, gasping. Hermione fell on the bed, clutching her throat as she continued to bleed. Panicking, Harry hastily tore off a section of the bed sheet and wadded into a ball, pressing it against the wound on her throat.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry sobbed as he pressed the wad of cloth against her neck, trying to stop the bleeding. "Please forgive me, I'm so sorry."
"Harry..." Hermione gasped, feeling her life slipping away. "I...I..." she stuttered, but her mind was going fuzzy from the blood loss.
"Everything's going to be okay, Hermione, just hold on!" Harry said, wracking his brain to try and remember a healing spell, but he couldn't remember.
"Harry, I...lo...I lo..." she whispered as her eyes began to flutter. Harry gasped as she saw how far gone she was, and knew he had only one way to save her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said as he pulled his wand out. "Diffindo," he chanted, hissing in pain as he sliced a gash into his wrist, and held the wound to her lips, where she began to suck greedily. She drank until her eyes fluttered closed, and she completely collapsed onto the bed. Tearing off a fresh piece of sheet, he wrapped the rag around his wrist to seal the wound, and cleaned the blood off of Hermione's neck and mouth, before picking her up and Apparating to another bedroom, where he gently set her down. Harry looked down at Hermione's slumbering form, before hesitantly kissing her on the forehead. "Forgive me," he whispered again as he stood up and quietly walked out and closed the door behind him. As Harry walked out, he idly wondered if a vampire could get drunk.
Harry dug into the pantry and pulled out a large, amber bottle of Odgen's firewhiskey. Instead of pouring it into a glass, Harry pulled the cap off and took a gulp straight from the bottle, nearly gagging as the alcohol burned his throat on its way down. As soon as the firewhiskey passed through his esophagus and into his stomach, a searing pain shot through Harry's body, emanating from his abdomen, feeling like his stomach had caught fire. Harry fell to his knees before projectile vomiting all over the kitchen, the floor splattered by thin, red liquid. Harry groaned in pain while he flicked his wand, cleaning the mess that he had made.
Harry crawled into the pantry and pulled out a container of pig's blood and drained the entire container to satiate his newborn hunger. His stomach filled once more, Harry pulled himself to his feet and walked out of the kitchen. Harry thought about interrogating Snape and Malfoy, but decided against it since between his anger towards the two of them combined with the anger he was feeling towards himself, he might fly into a rage and kill them before he could glean any useful information from them. So Harry levitated a sofa so that it sat in front of the fireplace, started a fire and levitated a log into the blaze, and finally sat down and stared into the fire, watching the log wither away into ash.
Hermione stirred from her slumber, groaning as she stretched. Where am I? she thought groggily. She remembered Snape and Malfoy's unconscious forms appearing, ordering Dobby to watch them, and then she returned to Harry….
And Harry bit her.
Hermione shot straight up as she remembered what happened. She felt her neck, and felt two small puncture scars where her jugular was. She ran to the nearest bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked mostly the same, aside from her bloody clothes, but her once slightly tanned skin had gone pale, and her eyes, once dark, murky brown, had become lighter, an almost honey color. She bared her teeth, and saw that her canines had grown to become two long fangs. Tears started welling up in her eyes, but she quickly patted them away with a towel. After going back to her room and changing into new clothes, as well as disposing of the old ones, she walked down the stairs to see Harry sitting in front of the fireplace, watching the last few embers flicker away.
"I never should have written to you," Harry said as she approached, even though he didn't look in her direction. "I never should have asked you to join me. I'm cursed; everyone I care about seems to get hurt or die nowadays. My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Albus, and now you. When is it going to stop?" he asked, mostly to himself. Instead of answering, Hermione just walked over to the sofa and sat silently next to him.
"Their deaths weren't your fault, Harry," Hermione said, placing a hand on his arm. "There was nothing you could do for Cedric. Sirius, Dumbledore, your parents, they all died to protect you."
"And you?" Harry asked, not looking at her. "Whose fault is it that you're a vampire now?"
Hermione swallowed quietly before answering.
"Mine," she said simply. Harry quickly turned his head to her in confusion, and she saw that he seemed to have been crying for some time. "I never should have hovered over you like that. It was stupid of me. You were in a coma for two weeks; I should have known that you would be hungry after not feeding for that long." Hermione paused as she wiped away a tear. "In a strange, twisted sense, I'm kind of glad that you turned me," she continued, shocking Harry. "The truth is I was scared. I was scared to die. I would never abandon you for my own ambitions, but there's still so much I want to do. I wanted to graduate, maybe expand S.P.E.W., or maybe become a healer, or go to a Muggle university, or something. I wanted to fall in love, get married, and have children." By now, tears were freely rolling down Hermione's cheeks. "I mean yes, part of me is angry, because now I'll never be able to have any of that, but another part of me is glad that I didn't die…I just don't know why yet." For several moments, they just sat silently, until Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand.
"I'm sorry for taking all that away from you," he whispered. "No one should be condemned to this life, but I panicked, and I couldn't lose you, so I did the first thing I could think of." Harry chuckled darkly. "I guess this just blew any chance you had with Ron," he said casually. Hermione gaped at him.
"What would possess you to think that I liked Ron?" she gasped. Harry suddenly looked very nervous.
"Erm…the way that Ron reacted at the Yule Ball, it was pretty obvious that he fancied you, and the way you acted all jealous last year, I figured you fancied him too. And then there was the funeral," he said. Hermione just shook her head at him.
"I don't fancy him, Harry. Sure, I might have thought about it, but I quickly realized that with all the bickering we do, we'd likely be at each others' throats all the time. And the funeral? Ron was just a convenient shoulder to cry on. And besides, I kind of…fancied someone else." Harry cocked his eyebrow at her.
"Oh? Is it someone I know?" he asked teasingly. Hermione laughed, even though inside, she was beyond terrified that he had figured it out.
"Maybe," she said evasively. Harry stroked an imaginary goatee as he thought about it.
"It is a bloke that you fancy, right?" he asked, which earned him a hard slap in the arm. "Okay, okay, I was just checking. Is it McLaggen?" he asked, throwing in the first name he thought of. Hermione scrunched her nose in disgust.
"Why the hell would I fancy that egotistical prat?" she asked.
"I guess that means you don't fancy Malfoy then?" If Hermione were drinking something, she would have sprayed it all over the room. As it was, she merely cast a withering glare at him.
"You would have to be on some pretty powerful drugs to think that I would ever fancy Draco Malfoy," she growled. Harry grinned cheekily.
"Who said anything about Draco? I was talking about Lucius." With a shriek, Hermione tackled Harry to the ground, where they wrestled on the floor, laughing like little children. When they stopped, they both realized that they were in a very compromising position, with Hermione straddling Harry's waist and her face mere inches from his. Unable to blush, she got off of him and pulled him up, both with stupid grins on their faces.
"Thanks for that, Hermione," Harry said as he stood beside her. "It felt good to laugh again." He bent down to kiss her on the cheek, but didn't see Hermione turn her head.
"You're welcome, Ha-" she started as she turned her head, but was cut off when Harry's lips unexpectedly pressed into hers. They simply stood there, too stunned to move, before they separated.
"Sorry," she said quickly as she turned to leave. But as she started to walk away, Harry suddenly remembered something.
"Hermione, wait," he said, and she stopped, fearing the worst. "Why did you kiss me?" Hermione gulped nervously.
"It was just an accident, Harry, it was nothing," she said, not turning to face him.
"Not that; yesterday, you kissed me while I was still in a coma. Why?" Hermione was glad that she was facing away from him, for her tears began to fall again.
"Don't make me answer that, Harry," she said in a barely audible whisper. She gasped as she felt Harry laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Hermione," he whispered. "The boy you fancy…is it me?" Hermione could finally contain it no longer.
"Yes! Yes, I fancy you!" she shouted, turning to face him. "It's been you since the end of second year! I watched and I waited and I hoped for four years that you would notice me, but that day never came," she sobbed as she collapsed into Harry's arms. Harry pulled her closer as she cried all her sorrows, all her heartache into his shoulder. When her sobbing had descended into sniffles, he carefully pulled her away and lifted her head.
"Hermione," he whispered, wiping away the stray tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I want you to know that Ginny and I are through. I may have broken up with her to keep her safe, but now…now I don't feel anything when I think of her."
"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. Harry gulped nervously as he stared down into hers.
"Because, even though any potential feelings I have for you, or anyone has been rather low on my priority list, considering all that's happened, it tears me up to see you hurting like this. I can't honestly say whether I fancy you or not, but…I'm willing to give us a try." Hermione fought to keep new tears from forming at these words.
"And if we don't work out? What if we end up having a bitter break-up and hating each other forever?" she gasped.
"I could never hate you, and you have said twice that you could never hate me, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Harry assured. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Hermione, will you be my girlfriend?" Hermione nodded her head softly.
"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she whispered. Harry pulled her back onto the sofa and pulled her into his arms, and they sat like that for hours. No kisses, no small talk, just holding each other tightly.
That night, Hermione waved her wand one last time over a letter before folding it and stuffing it in an envelope and sealing it.
"Done," she said, handing Harry the envelope.
"Thanks, I just hope we're not too late," Harry said, mostly to himself, before Disapparating with a crack. He appeared a few meters away from the Burrow, the living place of the enormous Weasley family. Needing to contact on of its members, Harry pulled a pebble out of the dirt and flung it as hard as he could.
The Weasley family was currently enjoying its weekly family dinner with a new addition, Fleur Delacour Weasley. It took over a week of near-constant arguing with his mother, but Bill had managed to continue the wedding without Harry and Hermione, saying that that's what they would have wanted. They were currently laughing at a joke that the twins had told when they heard a tapping on the window.
"Bill, could you be a darling and check to see what that is?" Molly asked. Bill obediently stood up and looked outside the window. He blanched when he saw a pale figure in black clothes standing out in the fields, pointing away from the house before walking away.
"It's just a gnome throwing rocks around, Mum, I'll go get rid of it," he said quickly, rushing out the door. He bent over by the window for a few seconds to make the impression that he was digging for the gnome, then ran in the direction that Harry had went, yelling profanities to the imaginary garden gnome.
When Bill arrived at where Harry was waiting, he was covered in dirt and gasping for breath.
"I thought I told you not to bother my family," he snapped, although the image of him with his hands on his knees, panting had destroyed the image of intimidation.
"I'm not bothering them; I'm bothering you," Harry said simply, drawing an envelope out of his pocket. "I need you to send this to Remus and Tonks for me, since this is too sensitive to send by owl. Make sure that no one else knows about this." Bill nodded his head and took the envelope, folding it and stuffing it deep enough in his back pocket that it didn't stick out. "Good luck catching that gnome," Harry said cheekily before Disapparating. Muttering words that he wouldn't dare repeat to his mother, Bill walked back to the Burrow.
"Well, I had to chase that little bas - bugger halfway across the property, but I got it," Bill said, triumphantly dusting his hands. "I'm going to go wash up, and I just remembered I needed to ask Remus something, so I'll be back." As the twins waved good-bye dramatically, Bill dashed to the nearest bathroom to clean his face and hands, then walked to the Floo and fire-called Remus.
"Bill, what's going on?" Remus asked, frowning in concern. After looking around to make sure no one was looking, Bill reached into his pocket and withdrew the letter.
"I ran into Harry a few minutes ago, and he told me to give you this," he whispered, passing Remus the envelope through the flames.
"Harry? Is he okay?" Remus asked, taking the letter. Bill shrugged.
"He seemed fine, or as fine as he can be," Bill said. "I might as well ask this while I'm here," he muttered. "So Remus," he said in a normal tone. "From one bloke to another, what should I do when Fleur gets pregnant? Just for future reference?" Remus smiled knowingly.
"Just nod your head and say, `Yes, dear', no matter how absurd the request," Remus said in a slightly louder than necessary voice, before cutting off the connection. Bill sighed as he stood up and walked down to finish enjoying his mother's cooking.
Remus stood up from the fireplace and looked at the letter in his hand, addressed to himself and Tonks in Harry's messy scrawl. After calling his wife down, who had just begun showing her pregnancy, they opened the letter and read it together.
Dear Remus and Tonks,
You're probably worrying about us, and I'm sorry for that, but things have been a bit hectic here. I can't really say too much more about it, but I want to let you know that we're fine, and hope that you are as well.
Cheers,
Harry.
Below the letter was a postscript written in Hermione's neat handwriting.
P.S. If you ever need sanctuary, you can find it at Number 12 Grimmauld Place
P.S.S. Destroy this letter after you read it.
Remus and Tonks were shocked, but were both relieved that they were okay. As they placed the letter on a plate and burned it, Remus held Tonks close.
"We can go tomorrow night," he told his wife. "I still need to wrap my mind around this." Tonks merely grunted in agreement before snuggling next to her husband, watching the paper wither away.
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Man, this chapter was difficult to write, particularly pretty much everything before Harry giving Bill the letter. I hope you liked it.
Don't forget to read and review!
EDIT 8/09/07: Due to a bug that caused most of the fic to appear in italics, I have reposted this.
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