I do not own Harry Potter, or Twilight.

WARNING: AU! FemHarry, Vampire! Harry. Eventual Explicit content. Ron bashing. Hermione bashing? (Kind of) Esme DOES NOT EXIST in this story! This happens before the whole Bella/ Edward nonsense. My vampires always have fangs. (It's, like, a requirement.) Timelines are are annoying, and not a thing in this story. THIS STORY IS SLIGHTLY EXPERIMENTAL, AND EXTREMELY ROUGH.

Read at your own risk.

Chapter 1

Dahlia Potter could hardly believe her life was ending like this. What life she had had, anyway. She had won a war, vanquished a madman, saved the world- but here she lay, in a pool of her own blood. She had been taken down, felled by a hidden enemy- her best friend.

Apparently, Ron had been of the opinion that they would get together after the war. Dahlia had no idea where that idea came from. They had never dated. She had never shown one speck of interest in him as anything other than a friend. Everyone knew that Hermione was in love with Ron. Eveyone believed he returned her feelings.

When Ron tried to start Courting Dahlia after the long war, everyone was shocked. When Dahlia refused, and brought up Hermione, Ron explained that Hermione and 'her kind' were good for 'practice', but not for marriage. He felt that Dahlia owed it to him to marry him, for his help over the years. Needless to say, he was thrown out on his ass.

Dahlia, sadly, lost both best friends that day. Hermione refused to speak to Dahlia, ever since the day Ron asked to Court her, with intent to Marry. Dahlia felt this was very unfair. She had never wanted Ron, and truthfully, had only stayed friends with him because of Hermione. She thought he was rude, had no manners to speak of, and was disloyal to boot. He was greedy, jealous, spiteful, he refused to bathe everyday - she could go on and on. Ron wanting her money- I mean- wanting to marry her, was taken as a direct betrayal, and Hermione blamed Dahlia alone.

Three years later, things were good. She had traveled some, with Luna. Many men had tried to Court her (properly, and improperly) but she had resisted. She had stayed single. Only two other people knew why.

Neville and Luna had become her new best friends, and she didn't know what she would have done without them. They had supported her throughout the war, and especially the last few years. When Neville asked her why she refused to date, Dahlia tried to explain. "I have been attracted to people. I mean, I'm not dead! I just... I feel like forming a commitment, or a..." Dahlia blushed slightly. "physical relationship with someone would be wrong. I feel. I feel... like I am meant for someone in particular. Someone special." She said, finishing somewhat sheepishly.

"Oh! Oh! We have to go to Gringotts! You might be the Mate of a Creature!" Luna said excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Neville furrowed his brow. "A Creature? What do you mean? Like a Werewolf? Like Prof. Lupin?" He said, then looked apologetically over at Dahlia. She had taken Remus and Tonks deaths' hard. She truly loved spending time with Teddy, though.

"A Werewolf, Vampire, Siren, there are numerous Creatures that can have human mates. Usually, it is a Werewolf, or a Vampire. Gringotts has a test. Do you want to go see? That may be why you feel the way you do. Many Creatures prefer Virgin Mates, which explains your lack of desire for a partner." Luna said bluntly, excited at the prospect of Dahlia being a Mate.

Dalia rolled her eyes, while blushing at Luna's comment. It was true. She had had plenty of offers while traveling, Hell- Wizarding Britain was like an open meat market for her. She just was not interested! They had gone to take the test, and it was confirmed - Dahlia Potter was the Mate to a Vampire.

Unfortunately, she would never meet him now, it seemed.

The last three years had not been good for Ron Weasely. He had squandered the cash award that came along with the Order of Merlin, Second Class he had gotten for his actions in the war. He had immersed himself in liquor and women, and when the money ran out, so did they. He tried to join the Auror Corps then, but was denied because he never took his NEWTS.

Imagine! Not letting a War Hero bust up bar fights because he hadn't sat his Herbology Final! It was madness! A disgrace! He was back living at the Burrow, with no prospects. His brother finally took pity on him, and gave him a job stocking shelves. STOCKING SHELVES! After all he had been through? After all he had done?

He had found out that Potter was being a Socialite. Travelling all over with Loony. Refusing Courtships left, right, and center. Uppity bitch. Thought she was better than everyone. Better than him. This was all HER fault. If she had married him, he would be rich beyond imagining. He would have money, power, respect. He wouldn't be a washed -up has been, stocking shelves, and living with his mother. Well. Maybe he could make her pay, and make some money out of it at the same time.

It had all gone wrong from the start. Seeing Ron, after all this time, Dahlia was on alert. She was walking to an apparition point, after a charity gala for Creature rights. (Oh the Irony)

The glaring contrast was clear, and made his anger blaze even hotter. Dahlia looked beautiful, and if you knew how to tell, wealthy. She had fully embraced her wealth after the war, and had become something of a fashionista. Her dark, riotous curls were in a graceful updo, curls escaping, and cascading down her back. Her makeup was done to compliment her almond shaped eyes. Their emerald color putting the jewels around her neck to shame. Her sharp, aristocratic cheekbones were accentuated nicely, and her pouty lips were a deep, mauve.

She was clad in a sumptuous, saphire blue, silk gown with a corsetted bodice. It had 3/4 length sleeves, and was almost floor length. Her 4 inch, Louboutin heels completed the look.

Conversely, Ron was wearing a worn out pair of trainers, a pair of torn, dirty jeans, and an obviously hand -me -down maroon robe. He had a smudge of dirt on his nose, and smelled unwashed.

"What are you doing here, Ron?" Dahlia asked, wand out, but pointed down.

Ron fumed. His ears turning red. "Oh? So I'm not allowed to breathe the same air as the 'Great Dahlia Potter' am I?" Ron said scathingly. "You seem to forget, who was standing beside you the whole damn time! You never would have survived if it wasn't for me, you bitch!" He said, spittle flying.

Dahlia placed her hand up, placatingly. "Ron, I never said you and Hermione didn't help. In fact, I sang your praises. It's not my fault the media didn't print it. You both decided to not talk anymore, not me." Dahlia said, trying to defuse the situation.

"Why wouldn't you just marry me? everything would have been perfect." Ron said, crowding close to her.

Dahlia could smell alcohol on his breath. It brought back images of her Uncle. Vernon never beat her when he was sober - you don't hit a girl, even a freak - but when he was drunk, all bets were off. She still had the scars along her back, from the belt. (She usually kept them glamoured.) As Dahlia struggled in her flashback, Ron grabbed Dahlia. She had turned into a hot piece of ass, he thought. She would pay him back, one way, or another.

Dahlia started fighting like a hellcat. She would not go down without a fight! Ron was holding her wand arm down with one arm, while she struggled. He raised his wand, and in his drunken mind, decided to cut off her dress, instead of tying her up, or even disarming her. "Diffindo!" He cried. He tried to only use enough force in the severing charm to cut her dress, but he put too much power behind it. Dahlia, still struggling, had moved enough that the trajectory of the spell was changed.

In other words, he missed her dress, and hit her throat.

Blood, rich and warm, spurted out, and Dahlia slid to the ground, clutching her throat. Time seemed to stand still for a fragile moment, as their eyes met in disbelief. And then Dahlia tried to take a breath, and blood flooded her throat. Her eyes became panicked, and bloody bubbles escaped her lips. She felt liquid run from her nose, and the smell of blood was cloying.

Ron looked upon what he had wrought, and panicked. Running away, with her blood on his hands.

Dahlia lay, drowning in her own blood, in the entrance to an alley, all alone.

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ONE WEEK EARLIER

An unearthly beautiful figure, sat stiffly in a High School caffeteria somewhere in Alaska. She looked like a pixie, short in stature, with short, dark hair. Her amber colored eyes were far away, vacant. The other beautiful, statue -like teens surrounded her protectively.

A gorgeous male teen, with bronze colored hair was also stilled. He had his head cocked, like he was listening to something no one else could hear. Suddenly, a look of wonder broke over his face, making him even more breathtaking.

Alice Cullen giggled, coming out of her vision. "Finally! After over 300 years! Carlisle's Mate is finally coming!" She said excitedly. Hopping up and down.

"What!" A gorgeous girl exclaimed. Rosalie Cullen was model-worthy. A blond-bombsell. She was known for her gorgeous looks, and bitchy attitude. Her tall, muscular boyfriend, Emmett was simularly dumbfounded.

"Really, Darlin'? Can you explain?" Jasper asked. Alice's Mate was a handsome, blonde, Southern Gentleman. He was an empath, and currently sensing joy, tinged with sadness.

"Carlisle's Mate is in England. We need to go there. I need to call Carlisle." Alice said, reaching for her phone.

"Wait!" Rosalie said, coming closer so as to not be overheard. "Is she a vampire? How do we meet her? We need details!" She whispered harshly.

Alice's face fell, and she became sad. "No. She is a witch. She is going to be on the brink of death one week from today. She will die if Carlisle isn't there to turn her. There is nothing we can do to stop it."