Disclaimer: I do not own anything within the following story, with the exception of a few OC's you do not recognize. If you see anything familiar, it is probably because it came from something else and I do not have any claim to it.
Author Notes: Well, I finally got around to fixing this story up. While the body of this fic isn't bad, I have re-read it and am not satisfied with it. My writing style has evolved since I began this and I have found that the grammatical errors and such extremely bothersome. I am also redoing the last chapters so they don't seem as rushed. Also, I am altering BoaE so that it does not need its sequel, Sisterhood of the Medium. It will be longer than before, but I do not see a problem with that. I hope you all enjoy.
Blood of an Enemy
Chapter One
Blood
Evening rolled in cool and early, shrouding the lovely cabin Hermione Anne Granger and her parents had taken lodging in for the majority of the summer. For Hermione, known amongst her small group of closest friends as Mynee, it was perfect. The school year before had been particularly stressful especially with the defeat of Voldemort. Her heart grew bitter as she returned to those darker days, her eyes dimming as she remembered the soul shredding screams of the wounded.
She had lost so many in that painful fight and then it had ended when she, a supposedly weaker mudblood, had killed one of the two most powerful wizards in the entire world. A most discomforting fact, especially as it was prophesied that Harry would have done the slaying. She had displayed power very unlike anything seen before, taking her rightful place in the history books that would not be written for many more years. Harry and Ron were unconscious and she so badly that she was on the verge of giving into that beckoning darkness. Voldemort was standing above them his wand outstretched...
…Remembering…
…Voldemort smirked as he looked at the three prone figures in front of him. The Boy Who Lived and his ever faithful sidekick were on the cusp of death and the little-know-it all was barely clinging onto consciousness.
"So, this is how it all ends. My mortal enemy finally dies at the wand of his greatest enemy, me. I must admit, I did not believe this would happen. Say good bye to your friends pitiful mudblood, you get the profound pleasure of watching them die."
Mynee whimpered quietly, which only made the Dark Lord's smirk grow wider in malicious glee. He roughly kicked her in the side, his wand momentarily leaving Ron and Harry and pointing at her. This was her chance. It a half-second she gathered all the loathing, all the hatred, all the pure unadulterated fear that was pounding in the room, much of it rolling off of the Death Eaters that were present. Slowly, with a strength she did not know she carried, she rose to her knees and glared at the one before her, her cinnamon hues gleaming with anger and profound power.
"You have killed countless hundreds Tom Riddle, you have slain your last." She was referring to the lifeless body of Mad-Eye Moody lying behind him.
Voldemort laughed darkly and with the tip of his wand moved some of her blood soaked hair away from her face. She fought against a shudder of horror with the tip of the soul sucking cold wood brushed her forehead.
"Isn't that touching, the worthless thing thinks she can hurt me. That is so sweet."
A muscle beneath her eye twitched slowly, a sign that she was about to explode in rage. She took in a breath and let out an unearthly scream of ire. Vivid, agonizing white light tore out of her body and flew at Voldemort. Time seemed to draw to a standstill, almost like the very granules of life were slipping through a sieve at a honeyed pace, as the eyes of eternal innocence met those of condemned horror.
And then, the pure energy tore threw his body and his frail disintegrated in a foul smelling miasma. As soon as the Dark Wizard was gone, many of the Death Eaters wailed in sudden pain and they too followed their master into green tinged mist. Aurors sprang into the room and she let out a weary sigh. It was too much, she needed to sleep. She let out a quiet cry and her body collapsed over the completely still figures of her friends….
…Returning…
…Mynee shuddered at the memory, trying to ignore the rapidly approaching remembrance of Harry and Ron publicly announcing that they hated her, and tried to bury her nose in the extensive book on Vampyres. Vampyres had always fascinated her; there was something about them that just pulled her deeply in. Contrary to popular belief, Vampyres were different than the Vampires that ruled the night. Vampires could not stand the sun, holy water, silver and the like, but it did not affect Vampyres.
They were the ultimate weapons, a perfect balance between cruel immortality and forgiving life. They had all the strengths of a Vampire and none of their weaknesses except for the constant thirst for blood. The idea of drinking human blood did not faze her, merely interesting to her and making her wonder. She could not help but speculate on the taste of that thick crimson liquid. It would be an incredible trip to wield that kind of power over humanity.
Hell, to be higher in the food chain then humans, something that many muggles feared above all else. She laughed quietly to herself and shut the thick tome. It had been too dark to read for some time now and she had simply been trying to kill time. Mynee shuddered at what lay at home for her. Her parents had fought almost none stop since the summer before her Fourth Year and she knew a divorce was eminent.
That in itself did not bother her, it would be better if they broke apart and the yelling ceased, but would not stop her more pressing problem. Her uncle, Michael, had moved in with them to make the burden more 'easier' for her and once she began to develop he had begun to watch her in a way she knew was not morally correct. She rubbed her temples slowly, balancing the book in her lap.
She just hoped that Uncle M. would not try to do anything to her; she was horrified at the thought of loosing her maidenhood to a family member. She slipped out of the tree and tucked her book beneath her arm. Slowly, sadly, she trudged like a prisoner to her execution back to the expansive cabin and all that was awaiting her.
The moment Mynee opened the door she was awarded with the sound of her mother shouting bloody murder at someone and the sound of breaking dishware. She shuddered unhappily and scurried quickly to her bedroom, praying to any deity, whether she believed in it or not, that she would be spared her parent's anger and her uncle's unwanted affections. That particular divine being decided to turn its back on her.
She had her eyes on the richly carpeted floor when she ran into someone, a tall and very male someone. She muttered a hasty apology and tried to squeeze by. A rough hand grabbed her chin and forced her face up; she looked nervously into the rugged face of her Uncle Michael. If he had not been her flesh and blood, he might have passed for an extremely handsome man.
Short dusty brown hair hugged his head in greedy ringlets that often reminded her of some Greek god, tanned skin and a pair of twinkling hazel eyes completed his face, making him a 'dreamy' guy for some girls. He lowered his face close to hers, his face bearing traces of alcohol consumption in the past hours.
"What's my little bunny doing being out so late? It's almost eleven o'clock; I thought you'd be in bed by now my sweet."
She shuddered slightly and tried to shake her face out of his grip. "That's what I was going to do Uncle Michael. I'm really tired."
"Are you now? How about your good ole' uncle reads you a story before you go to sleep, like I used to when you were little?"
She could not answer him; her tongue felt as if it had swollen up so it was a lump of dust and completely took over her mouth. She just stared up at him, forcing herself to hide the fear that was coursing through her. Her normal Gryffindor bravery that had helped her so many times in the face of terror had left with its tail between its legs. When Mynee did not answer he smirked and lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was nothing like the ones she and Ron had exchanged a few times. No, this one was too hard; fiercely possessive that told her that he wanted only one thing from her. The one thing she refused to loose to brutal rape, the thing she would loose too a once trusted family member. She gulped and stupidly opened her mouth to cry out, but any attempt at speaking was cut off when his thin tongue darted into her mouth. Revulsion coursed through her when his relatively slimy strip of muscle was rammed down her throat in a physically revolting gesture.
Mynee whimpered quietly and frantically attempted to push him away with all her feeble, waning strength. A small, traitorous part of her mind sobbed that it would just be easier to give in and just let the inevitable happen. Luckily, he was so caught up in attempting to snog his fighting niece, Michael was rather easily pushed away from her. He looked at her with lust darkened eyes, a nasty smile on now his twisted face.
"Just you wait Bunny, I'll pop your little cherry and I'll make you scream my name before the night is through. I've had enough of your silly little games. I know you want me and I definitely want you. Look, see how much I want you?" He grabbed her hand tightly by the wrist, hard enough to leave dark bruises, and pressed it against the crotch of his pants.
She let out a horrified gasp and jerked her hand away from him, unable to keep her trembling in check anymore. Why could not he see that she did not want him like that? Oh, what she would have given to return to her boring, normal life. Why had she felt the need for something more interesting to happen? He just smirked nastily and moved aside so the shaking seventeen year old could run past to her bedroom.
She threw her book down onto the dark maroon colored bedspread and rapidly locked the door. Why did her uncle have to be like this? She could handle it if he ignored her or was never around to help her when her parents were drunk/absent. But this, he being sexually and physically abusive was worse than anything even her mother or father could do. She wished fervently that she could tell her parents, but they would not believe her. Her father had put his brother-in-law on such a high pedestal that he would not believe that he had done anything wrong.
He could have murdered hundreds of people before her father, but he would not believe anything said against him. Her mother idolized her older brother even more then her husband did. He was a complete saint in her eyes. Mynee had tried to tell them once what was happening, but bother her parents threatened many things, even disownment, if she did not stop saying those horrible, hateful, and untrue things about her uncle.
She slid down the door and sat on the soft, celery colored carpet of her room and pulled her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped 'round them. She began to rock slowly, forcing her mind to go that special place right in the center of her subconscious. It did not work. All she could see in her mind's eye were the lust filled irises of her uncle. Slowly, her hues filled up with tears and one of the heavy droplets escaped the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek.
She hastily rubbed it and all the others away, fighting for composure. Her legs slid down and she rested her arms a top them, looked dully at the silvery scars adorning them. For two and a half years she had been cutting herself and it had rapidly become addictive. The feeling off all of her troubles, pain, and sorrow being let out with the simple flick of a razor had been euphoric and she knew the very first time it would be almost impossible to stop.
She knew that it was a horrible way to deal with her problems and it would be best for her own conscious if she just told someone, but her blasted pride kept her from confiding in any. Mynee absently ran her fingers over the blemishes until her finger tips reached the unmarred flesh right at her wrists. She had never actually attempted to kill herself and had always told herself that life would turn up. She snorted at the thought. Two and a half years later nothing had gotten better, only worse.
She begun to slice herself almost every night, hiding for a few moments in the sweet pain she got each time pearly droplets of crimson bubbled up to the surface. She sighed quietly and did not bother to pause so she could draw herself out of the deep pit of despair; that was hopeless. Outside her bedroom there was the sound of her mother screaming, a common noise in the Granger household.
She began to brush it off as one of the many, when she realized that it was different that the norm. All the others had been filled with complete anger, but this one was full of terror and pain, horrible agony. And then, as if it had never happened, the horrible noise stopped and the house grew eerily quiet. She craned her ears for even the slightest noise and swallowed a stifled shriek of surprise when a floorboard creaked outside her door.
She gulped and scrabbled away, thinking her perverted uncle had come to fulfill his cryptic promise, the fact that the door was locked fled in face of her fear. There was a soft clicking noise of a lock being opened and the thick slab of maple swung open. A figure wearing a black cloak with the hood pulled up was leaning in the frame, acting as if he/she/it owned the place.
She bit back the need to scream and forced what little courage that had not left her to wake up. She got up off the floor, one of her hands grabbing her wand of her bedside table. To hell with the fact she was not allowed to do magic out of school; there was a stranger in her home who had probably done something vile to her parents and, despite what her conscious said was wrong to wish for, her uncle too.
"What are you doing in my house?" Her voice quavered slightly.
The figure laughed softly and extended a hand. The hood was pushed back and a masculine face was revealed.
Mynee's eyes narrowed visibly and she lifted her wand so it pointed at him. "Answer my question now!"
"I need not answer a mortal if I do not wish so." His voice was deep, layers of dark, sultry temptation tugging at her soul and a sense of near euphoria swamped her.
"Answer me Goddess damn you!" She tried so hard to clear her head from the heady aura surrounding the man.
He chuckled coldly and suddenly was before her. He easily snatched her wand from her hand and dropped it on the floor, it rolling beneath her bed. She remained there in shock from the sudden disappearance and reappearance that definitely was not apparition. He reached out as if was going to stroke an animal and touched it to her neck, right where the visible vein was pulsating.
The moment his had touched his hand touched her flesh there was the distinct sound of skin sizzling, the aroma of cooking flesh filling the air within seconds. He jerked away and looked in surprise at the mutilated flesh. For several minutes she looked at him in confusion, her thoughts till muddled, before he spoke.
"So you are the one with such purity, never would have believed it to be a woman. I suspect the 'Pyres will rejoice."
Her ears perked at the word "Pyres", unable to help noticing it bore great resemblance to Vampyres.
"Pyres? Wait...What the hell are you doing here? Who are you? What fuck did you do to my parents?"
"Silence human, all will be revealed in time. First things first, this may tickle."
He, with speed so fast no mortal could follow his movements; he jerked her head lightly to one side and sank glinting fangs into the pulsating jugular. A bizarre dearth over took her, but the emptiness was soon replaced by a deep sense of power. It was arousing, painful, and extremely frightening sensation all rolled up into one emotion. Moments passed, it was over and she had not the strength to remain on her own two legs. Mynee rapidly crumpled into an undignified heap at the immortal's feet, a curtain of ever so slightly bushy hair covering her face. He knelt beside her and pushed the auburn locks out of her face.
"Listen, normally you would get a choice in this matter, but because of who you are you'll just have to suffer through. So when I say open your mouth, you better drink what dribbles in, got it? You can't speak now, so just nod." She moved her head weakly. "Good girl."
Slowly he brought his razor sharp fangs over the nearly transparent flesh of his wrist and watched as bloody crimson welled up and pooled over the indent he had created. "Open." She weakly did as he asked and almost shut her mouth when something warm and distinctly coppery entered her mouth.
For some time he let his blood dribble past her lips until the cut sealed up, leaving no permanent slash to bear witness to the event. Mynee opened her eyes slowly and looked at him blearily.
"What was that fo..." She was cut off mid sentence by an excruciating pain suddenly being born and swamping her.
Mynee bit back a pained whimper and started thrashing around violently on the floor. The man stood up and looked at her with a nasty smirk. He was a pureblood; he had never gone through the pain of The Change. When she finally was able to breathe again, her skin was sheet ashen and covered in a sheen of glinting sweat.
"What happened?" She croaked.
"You are dying, this process will take some time. Enjoy."
"I'm what?" Emotionless, numb.
"You heard what I was said and I was merely granting your wish.
"My wish?" Her mind drifted back in time, sifting through the events of the day until an outraged squeak escaped her. "I wasn't being serious..." She refused to let her voice tremble, she had shown enough weakness around this creature and she refused to appear cowardly. She was a Gryffindor and had defeated Voldemort, she could handle this.
Mynee pushed herself up to her knees, her cinnamon eyes flashing dangerously. "You said I was supposed to have a choice, why didn't I get one?"
He suddenly seemed ill at ease and shifted his weight from foot to foot until a forced cheerful smile slipped onto his attractive face, though it did not reach his empty eyes.
"I have to go. I'm sure you'll be able to take care of yourself. You might want to clean up the mess I made of your family out there, there's blood everywhere...Your mother put up quite a fight." He smirked at her before disappearing without a trace.
There was no pop of misplaced air common to disapperating, it was like he had cut a hole in the fabric of time and gracefully stepped to his destination. Suddenly, the full force of what he had said came crashing down on her. She was dying, becoming a Vampyre no less, and was completely orphaned. They were dead, she was alone. Despair welled up inside of her, but she quickly dammed it up behind age old walls.
She needed to get out; she could not stay there with the cooling cadavers outside the once sanctuary of her room. A shuddering gasp filled her lungs with air and she grabbed her wand off the floor, ignoring the dust bunnies that clung to her sticky form. Mynee hobbled out of her room and into the living room. A horrible sight awaited her, on that would remain with her forever. Her mother was sprawled out by the kitchen door, blood pooling around her neck in a rapidly congealing mess.
Her father was by the sofa, colorless and empty. Her uncle was in the roaring fire, filling the air with burning meat her nose already had sampled earlier. The corrosive, burning smell of blood and cooking flesh overwhelmed her and she almost collapsed. She had to get out, not another moment could be spent in that death house. She stumbled to the fire and took a handful of the sparkly green powder from the hidden compartment on the mantle.
For a brief second she thanked the gods that she gotten that fire place connected up to the Floo Network, it was actually proving useful. She threw the sand like substance into the fire and it flared green rising several feet. She looked nervously at the corpse of her uncle and stepped around him, fighting back the need to vomit. The moment she was safely in the fire, she hollered the first place that came to her mind:
"Hogwarts!"
There was a soft rushing noise that somehow calmed her and she and the steadily burning cadaver of her uncle were swept away in a torrent of emerald flames.
Well, the first chapter of Blood of an Enemy – Revamped (Oh, the puns). Please review and let me know what you all think, thanks.
Your Lord and Master;
Foamy the Squirrel