She cherished the stillness of the night. It was the only quiet time she had anymore; the only time to think that she could get, and even the night was restricted for her. But she took what she could, and relished in the velvety black sky above her. Gazing up at the moon and stars could almost make her forget the Professor that stood a short distance away, watching her. Almost.

All too soon she had to re-enter the castle. She was escorted to the hospital wing, and Madame Pomfrey made sure she received what she needed. And then she was off to bed, for what little sleep she might get.

The morning sunlight shone brightly against her closed eyelids. A bit too brightly for her liking, but she tolerated it. She dressed and went to breakfast with her friends. They had noticed the pallor to her face these days, and the coldness of her touch. They were the most obvious symptoms of her condition, apart from the change her eyes had undergone. They had once been a warm chocolate brown, but now glittered obsidian. Her hair she was able to alter everyday, so that they would not notice how it had changed. She supposed that she could do her eyes too, and maybe if she felt that they would be noticed, she would.

She sat among the other students, watching them. They were so young, so vibrant and full of life. Like she had once been. But in a night, she had aged. She was different now, and it was a sharp pain to her whenever she remembered it. But no one knew, not even her friends, who should have put two and two together by now. It had been at least a week.

Maybe they have, and they aren't able to accept it, she thought. It made sense. Who would want to accept that it had happened to them, or to someone they knew? She hadn't wanted to. She still didn't want to.

Her professors all knew, of course. And they attempted to treat her no differently, for which she was grateful. As there was no definite cure for her condition, she appreciated every piece of her normal life that hadn't changed.

She took naps now, explaining to her friends that she simply felt tired all the time. They teased her, saying that it was because she studied too much. She needed to take a break now and then.

A month went by, and then came Christmas. She and Harry were alone in the common room. Harry came up to her.

"You know…"

"What?" she asked him. He pointed upwards, silently. Above their heads hung some mistletoe. "Oh…" She turned her gaze back to Harry, who was looking at her intently. He started to lean in toward her, but she stopped him.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, and turned away.

"Harry…"

"It's okay. I understand."

"No, that's not it." He turned back to her. "I just…"

"What?"

"Nothing." She allowed him to close the distance between them, to tilt her chin upwards. He smiled softly, and the next thing she knew, they were kissing.

And then he withdrew, his hand on his lip. He pulled it away, and stared at the blood that was on his fingers, then looked up at her.

"You…"

She nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Harry."

He sat down. "Ron and I suspected something was wrong…you've been so pale lately, so cold when we touch your shoulder. And the daytime naps…But we hoped that you were just ill." He looked up at her, and stared into her eyes. "But I guess you aren't. You don't even have brown eyes anymore."

"Harry, I…"

"Why didn't you tell us?" There was a lot of hurt in those green eyes.

"Because I wanted to pretend it never happened. That I never changed."

"How did you change?"

"No one knows. I just woke up, and I was this way. I must have been bitten the night before, but there are supposedly none of my kind here except me. I knew what was wrong with me even before I went to Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore." She glanced out the window; the sun was setting. "I need to go."

"Where?"

"I need my feeding." She walked to the portrait hole, surprised when he followed her. He said nothing during the walk to the hospital wing, nothing when she eagerly drank the bottle of blood that Madame Pomfrey handed her, and nothing as she went for her nightly walk, escorted this night by Professor Flitwick. He was silent until she reached the willow beside the lake, where he gently tapped her shoulder.

She turned to him, fangs gleaming in the moonlight, and noticed his swallow. "I won't bite you. They come out at night, I can't help it."

"I know," he whispered softly. "And I also know that getting blood from a bottle isn't enough for you."

"Yes, it is. I can live off of it. I'm not going to hunt, and kill. You know I can't do that."

"I'm not asking you to." He moved forward, and kissed her again, despite the fact that her fangs were piercing his lip. She could hardly control herself when she tasted his coppery blood.

"Harry…go away. I'm dangerous to you."

"I know."

"Then leave. And…and don't kiss me again. Harry, you need a girlfriend who's normal, not me."

"Maybe I do. But you're who I care about."

"Despite this?"

"Yes." And then he offered her his neck.

"No. Harry…" The urge to bite him was overwhelming. If he stayed like that, she wouldn't be able to control herself. She told him as much.

"I trust you…."

"You may trust me, but I don't trust myself, Harry. Please."

"Drink." And he continued to offer himself. She didn't know why he was doing this, how things between them had gotten this serious so quickly. Only an hour ago, he'd kissed her for the first time, and now he was offering his blood.

"I…"

"Drink, Hermione." And she did. She couldn't control herself any longer. She moved forward, and sank her teeth into his neck. She heard him hiss slightly, but then everything was beyond her.

Harry had been right. This was what she needed. Blood from a bottle could sustain her, yes, but blood directly from the source…It was power, life, and she wanted more…

"Stupefy!" She was knocked backward as the spell hit her, and Professor Flitwick came running over.

"I'm so sorry, Potter, are you okay? She didn't take much?"

"No…I'm fine, Professor, really…"

She scrambled up and fled, turning into a hawk as she did so. She took to the air, and flew directly into the Forbidden Forest.

There was no way she could go back now. Dumbledore had warned her that if she fed off a student, she would never be able to be satisfied with bottled blood again. And now she had fed from Harry. No one would be safe from her. She should ask to leave Hogwarts, to protect the other students. To protect Harry.

But she didn't want to leave. Harry had just done the most wonderful thing for her, and he'd trusted her so completely. She hadn't realized the depth of his feelings, or of hers toward him. He'd accepted her for what she was, and not many would do that.

"Hermione!"

"Miss Granger!"

They were looking for her. She perched on a small tree, and transformed into an owl to watch them. They looked for a few hours, before finally entering the castle. Harry entered with his head hanging, apparently deeply upset.

She transformed back into her human self, and relaxed against the branch.

"Do you plan to stay out here forever, Miss Granger?" She started. She shivered and turned to find Professor Dumbledore sitting on a branch just below her.

"How?" she asked.

"Do you mean how did I end up here, or how can you return to the school?" She didn't answer.

"As to how I came to be sitting here, I prefer to hold my secrets. As to you returning to the school, it is entirely possible."

"But I…I can't," she whispered. Tears began to crawl down her face.

"Of course you can. What happened tonight will not affect your standing at Hogwarts."

"But the Ministry said I would be expelled if I attacked someone." She choked out.

"Yes, they did. But you did not attack anyone."

"Harry…"

"Offered his blood to you, freely. You did not attack him."

"But I bit him."

"Yes. But only after he persuaded you to do so." Dumbledore smiled softly at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "To me, that's a sign that he cares deeply for you. He has accepted what you are, and he accepted all possible outcomes when he offered you his neck." He stared at her, long and hard. "Perhaps the real reason you fear to go back is because you haven't accepted what you are."

She stared back, in shock. "Of course I have. I know what I am, what I need, and what could cause me to become worse."

"Yes, you know it intellectually. But do you accept that this has happened to you, and that you will likely never be your old self again?"

"I, um…yes."

"That does not sound too convincing."

"I accept it, Professor. Really."

The Headmaster sighed, and shook his head. "I am inclined not to believe you, but I shall give you the benefit of the doubt. Now, shall we go back to the school? We can talk about this more in my office."

She nodded, and they were suddenly on the ground.

The walk to the school did not take long, for which she was both upset and grateful. She would not have to wait long to face Harry.

And indeed, he was standing in front of the gargoyle, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Professor Dumbledore. When he saw her walking slightly behind the professor, he visibly relaxed.

"Ah, Harry. I assume you wanted to see me about Miss Granger?" Harry nodded. "I believe that I will leave the two of you alone for a bit. You may enter my office when you are ready. Simply say 'Pepper Imps.'" As Dumbledore spoke the password, the gargoyle leapt aside. The headmaster walked past it, and the minute he was on the staircase, the gargoyle leapt back into place.

Harry turned to her, hurt written plainly on his face. "You didn't need to run."

She ducked her head, and stared at the floor. "I was ashamed."

"Of what?" Harry asked her. "This?" He forced her to look at his neck, where instead of the long gashes she expected, there were simply two little holes.

When she nodded, he wrapped his arms around her. "You don't have to be ashamed. I asked you to do it. And I wasn't hurt."

"You shouldn't have asked me." The words came out harsher than she'd meant them to, but she didn't apologize for it.

"Why not? Look, Hermione, I know the risk. I know that once a vampire has fed directly from a human, that they cannot help craving it again."

"Then why did you let me!" she cried. "You knew that I'd want your blood again!"

"Are you implying that I wouldn't offer it again? Hermione, I'll offer it to you every night, if need be. I know you need it, and I'm willing. Because I trust you."

"But what if I can't stop until it's too late?"

"I'd rather die at your hands than be killed by Voldemort," he whispered, lowering his face to kiss her.

"Harry…" He didn't let her speak.

Maybe one day she would lose control. Or Harry would change his mind. She didn't even know Harry would be allowed to offer his blood, as they were still outside of Dumbledore's office. But as Harry continued to kiss her, she didn't much care.