Chapter One: Burning
DICLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Vampire diaries!
SHOUTOUTS: Hope you guys like it!
Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.
~Stephen King
June Potter bolted up in bed, groping around for her wand in the mess of bed sheets and pillows. It was an automatic instinct from the war, but after throwing around the pillows for a little bit she decided it wasn't there and had probably fallen behind the bed or something. She had been tossing and turning all night. Looking over at the clock, June saw it was exactly twelve o'clock. She was officially 18, and she couldn't suppress the grin.
Throwing her feet over the side of the bed, she noticed the floor wasn't as cold as it usually was. Maybe she had finally gotten that heating spell down, she had been trying long enough. Walking through the halls of 12 Grimmauld Place, she quickly descended the stairs and turned into the kitchen. Walking over to the fridge, she threw it open, her eyes searching for something. She was hungry, she knew that, and her throat was burning.
'Surely I'm not getting sick on my birthday?' She thought and then let loose a somewhat bitter chuckle. That would be her luck, given her past track record of birthdays. Standing up and tucking one strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, she took a deep breath to try and calm the hunger and burning. However, as soon as that delicious scent infiltrated her system, the hunger increased.
"Ok, the late night diner. I'll go there." She said to herself as she began to walk upstairs to get dressed, "I don't have any food here anyways. I have got to go shopping."
Quickly dressing in comfortable muggle clothes, she found her wand under her favorite blue muggle shirt. She decided last minute on a jacket, even though it was June it was still twelve in the morning and bound to be cold. She was proved wrong when she walked out side and all she felt was a stifling heat was over her. Shaking her head, June knew she must be coming down with a fever. She'd check the potions cupboard when she wasn't so damn hungry.
She walked easily down the street, a few stragglers on the street but not many. She could walk down the sidewalk with her arms straight out if she wanted. Seeing the neon diner sign, she picked up her pace a bit. Opening the door, the bell that was tied to the doorknob jingled a little. She loved this place, really. It reminded her of an old 80's restaurant and they had great food. Not as good as Hogwarts, of course, but they were pretty damn close.
The waitress looked up and smiled, grabbing a pen and paper. June sat down at one of the colorful booths at one side of the empty diner and didn't even grab a menu, she knew exactly what she wanted.
"One slice of Treacle Tart, please."
The waitress scribbled something on her pad, "Breadcrumbs or almonds?"
"Almonds."
"Great, that'll be right out!"
As the waitress went to tear of the paper, it grazed her finger in just the right way to give her a paper cut. The small bit of crimson liquid spilled out and June's focus zeroed in on it. The burning that had sated itself somewhat on her walk returned with a vengeance. She clamped her mouth shut, jaw clenched, and stared at her hands. What was wrong with her?
"Oops! I always do that! Anyways, one slice of Treacle Tart with almonds, correct?"
Not trusting herself to speak, June gave a stiff nod. As the waitress walked away, she took a shuddering breath. The burning hurt like someone had dragged knives down her throat and poured lemon juice on the wounds. She ran a hand over her face and stopped short. She blinked in surprise and realized she wasn't even wearing her glasses, which she was blind without, but her vision was perfect.
The blonde waitress came back out, a Band-Aid now on her finger, and set down the plate with June's favorite desert on it in front of the witch. However she didn't notice. The burning was too much. She couldn't give another thought on her glasses, Treacle Tart, or whatever sickness she had. The only thing she needed something to soothe her throat and - oh god she could hear the waitress's heart beating, pumping blood into her system.
"Ma'am, are you ok?"
She ignored her and stood up too quick, causing the waitress to stumble back and the plate to fall off the table, desert and all, to shatter on the floor. She looked into the woman's fearful hazel eyes and didn't even wince, she should've winced. What was she doing?
"Stay still."
The blonde's eyes glazed over and the tenseness dropped off her body as she stared forward, looking at nothing. She could practically feel that vein in her neck pulse, and that was all June Potter thought about as she latched on to the waitress's neck, sucking the blood out of her. Eventually the woman went limp and the blood was totally drained, and June jerked back. She looked at the already cold body on the floor in shock.
"W-what did I-?"
She quickly grabbed the waitress's dropped metal platter and looked into the shiny surface. What stared back nearly made her cry out in horror and fear. Her mouth was stained red, two white fangs being visible as her mouth fell open in shock. Her eyes were a dark red, with bulging veins underneath. June took the side of her sleeve and wiped the blood off her mouth hastily, now glad she brought the jacket.
Pulling out her wand she cast a spell to get rid of the body in a blink of the eye. She felt guilty, horrible, and Merlin she didn't even think about the Ministry of Magic. She knew the diner was old and didn't have security cameras, the only evidence they would find would be a shattered plate, stale food, and a slight blood stain on the floor. Turning around, with a terrible weight on her chest, she fled the diner with her face being hidden by her hood.
The whole way back to Grimmauld Place she tried to convince herself it didn't happen. She was a good person, she stopped Voldemort, and she didn't just kill some innocent person. Practically ripping to door of it's hinges as she opened it and threw it shut behind her, June ran into the living room. She quietly sat down one the couch, shame washing over her. She had killed an innocent person. What would Sirius thing? What would her mom and dad think?
Her bottom lip began to wobble, not knowing what was going on always annoyed the hell out of her. This frustration coupled with the horror of her own actions made her start to sob into her own hands. It was only an hour later when she finally pulled her head up did she notice the small chest sitting in front of her.
Well, what do you guys think?