Disclaimer: I do not own the Potter world - it belongs to JK Rowling.
I've done a bit of research for this story (and read a few books) on the subject of Vampires for this story. I hope everyone else finds it as fascinating as I have.
Isn't Dentistry a form of Medical treatment? At least, I could have sworn it was. If it's not, then just pretend it is for this chapter.
Summary: Hermione unknowingly saves the life of a vampire, one who is a member of a Vampire Lord's elite guard. Soon an attempt on her life is made, and Hermione is thrown into a world of darkness, war, hate, lust, jealousy, and love. Who should she meet there but her dark Potions Master? HG/SS
Chapter One
The rain poured down heavily, making it impossible to see more than four feet ahead outside the window. Hermione stared out anyway, jumping slightly when thunder boomed and lightning flashed. She sat curled up on the window seat in her living room, head resting on her hand, arm bent and resting on the window ledge to support her head. A forgotten book lay on her lap, open to a page covered with faded writing.
The lights had gone out, making it impossible to read the already hard to see text. Giving up after flicking the light switch a few dozen times, Hermione lit a fire and settled in for watching the storm, thinking about nothing in particular. Her parents had gone to a Medical Convention two towns away, and wouldn't be back until the day after tomorrow.
It was only a week into summer, and already Hermione wished to be back at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron, getting into trouble and having adventures. Although she'd never admit it out loud, hanging out with Harry and Ron was a lot of fun. Of course, it was only fun when it didn't interfere with Hermione's studying, but it rarely did. Since graduating a week ago, Hermione had felt herself drifting. She wasn't sure at all what she wanted to do; she only knew she wanted to learn more.
Hermione had received a letter from Harry and Ginny, and two from Ron. Ron had been hinting lately at a step up in their relationship from friends to - something else. Hermione had feelings for Ron of the romantic sort, but she wasn't sure it was strong enough to over-come her platonic feelings. Most of the time she thought of Ron as her best friend, but every now and then she'd get the urge to kiss him, to hold his hand.
Harry was as well as he could be, living with his relatives. Hermione wished she could take him away from there, to fix it so he'd never have to see his horrible family again. But Harry needed the blood protection staying there provided, so there was nothing Hermione could do. She sent him fattening food and bugged him about doing his homework, but she still felt helpless.
Ginny was well, too, despite for her complications with Harry. Harry had broken things off with Ginny - hoping to avoid Voldemort's attention settling on the pretty redhead. Ginny hadn't taken it well at all, crying and screaming at Harry that she could take care of herself. For once, Harry didn't give Ginny what she wanted. He point-blank refused to be the cause of her death, at least directly. Ginny often wrote to Hermione about Harry, telling her everything she couldn't say to her mother. Hermione's heart went out to Ginny, but she thought Harry's decision had been a wise and mature one.
Hermione caught movement out of the corner of her eye, jerking her out of her reverie. She sat up quickly and peered out into the pouring rain, unable to see any better now than she could before. The rain showed no sign of letting up, and Hermione could see no more movement outside.
And why would anybody be out in this weather, anyway? Hermione thought.
She settled back down, relaxing in the warmth of the living room fire. Her breath misted the window, and Hermione drowsily lifted a hand and swiped at the window. Lightning flashed again, accompanied by a loud boom of thunder. The sky lit up from the lightning, and Hermione could briefly see the form of a person lying crumpled on the ground in the middle of the street. She jumped to her feet and leaned close to the window, face practically pressed against the window.
Even with squinting, Hermione wouldn't see anything. The lightning had lit everything up, and since Hermione lived in a remote area, there were no street lamps to light the road. She couldn't see a thing without some light. Making a split decision, Hermione moved to the door, slipping her shoes on. She grabbed her raincoat and put it on quickly before opening the door and stepping out onto her porch.
The sound of the rain hitting her coat drowned out any other noise, and Hermione once again squinted in the direction she saw the body. She moved in the general direction the body had been laying. She reached the edge of the sidewalk and stood there, scanning the road. A dark blob laying in the middle of the road to her left had her scrambling in that direction, careful not to fall. Reaching the body, she dropped down to her knees and shook the person's shoulder.
"Can you hear me? Sir...er...ma'am? Are you alright?" Giving up on shaking the person's shoulder, Hermione braced herself with her legs and pushed the person onto their back. Barely visible in the dark light, she could make out a man's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was partially open. She reached out with a trembling hand and smacked his face lightly. He grunted and turned his head away, but otherwise gave no reaction. Sighing, Hermione stood up and gripped one of his arms.
Hermione attempted to lift him up, but he was way too heavy for that. Unable to think of anything else but to drag him, she gripped his arm again and began to move backwards. Getting him over the curb (and up the porch stairs) proved to be a bit of a problem, but other than that, Hermione had no trouble. Closing the door behind her, she flung off her raincoat and kneeled beside the man.
His eyes were open now, and he was looking around, obviously dazed. The man's gaze turned to Hermione, and she was struck by their color. His eyes were a vibrant blue, practically glowing in the firelight. His hood and fallen back, revealing long hair tied back in a low ponytail. My my my. He certainly is good-looking... a small part of Hermione's brain observed. She shoved the thought back like she always did - after all, who could think of good-looking boys or men when there was studying to do?
"Sir, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Hermione asked urgently. Perhaps I should just call an ambulance. The man shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving her face.
"No. I will be fine in just a moment." He sat up quickly, forcing Hermione to back up so she wouldn't be in his face. By the time Hermione had brushed away the hair that had fallen into her face, the strange man was already standing. Hermione blinked in amazement. He sure can move fast. The man offered a hand to help her up, which Hermione took gratefully.
"What is your name, girl?" the man asked softly. His voice was heaven to listen to, and Hermione could feel herself drifting. Frowning sternly at herself for allowing her mind to drift, Hermione dropped his hand and stepped away.
"Hermione, sir. And yours?" she asked politely. After several moments of silence, Hermione thought he wasn't going to answer.
"Maksim Apraxin." His voice had a faint accent Hermione couldn't place, but judging by his name, it was probably Russian. She smiled at him softly.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Apraxin." Apraxin smiled back, a strange glint in his eyes. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Um...the electricity is out, so I'm afraid you can't call anybody," Hermione commented, saying the first thing that came to her mind to break the silence. Apraxin grinned boyishly before pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. Hermione felt like smacking herself in the head.
"Oh, I'd forgotten about mobile phones! I don't spend much time in the Muggle wor- I mean, with my parents," Hermione stammered. She was sure he was going to ask about the word, "Muggle". When Hermione said it, he had frozen with his mobile phone raised. He stared at her silently, unsettling Hermione with his unblinking, unreadable gaze.
Right...well...You can stay here for the night if you need to," Hermione said. Apraxin blinked several times before nodding his thanks and moving off to a corner of the room. He quickly dialed a number and began to speak rapid Russian into the phone. Hermione watched him speak, pale hands moving quickly and gracefully through the air. Finally, Apraxin hung up and made his way back to Hermione.
"If it is alright, I will be staying here until tomorrow night," He said matter-of-factly. Hermione nodded and went to get some blankets and pillows for him to sleep with. Hermione made a quick detour into her father's room to get some dry pj's for the man. When Hermione returned to the living room, she found Apraxin standing at the window, staring out into the night. He turned to face her when she entered the room.
Throwing the stuff casually onto the couch, Hermione stood in front of the fireplace and warmed herself. She gestured towards the pile of blankets, pillow, and clothes with one hand.
"Those are obviously for you."
"Thank you," Apraxin said. Hermione nodded.
"I am a light sleeper, and I have not slept in some time. I will probably sleep right through the day. Please do not open the curtains. I'm sensitive to sunlight," Apraxin said very coaxingly. Hermione felt herself nodding in agreement. The man gave her another one of those smiles, one that made Hermione feel warm all over. She shrugged the feeling off, just as she did before.
"Do you need anything? Food, or maybe a drink?" Hermione inquired. Apraxin shook his head. He seemed puzzled over something.
"No thank you, I am fine. I would like to get to sleep, however," he replied.
"Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry. Please excuse me. If you need anything, I'll be upstairs. Just call up," Hermione said as she left the room, making her way up to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she sat on her bed and petted Crookshanks.
"Apraxin seems like a really odd man, Crooks. Something about him is just...off. You can't notice it until you've left his presence, but it's there. I wonder what he was doing in the street. It would have been impolite to ask, but I'm so very curious," Hermione told the cat. Crookshanks purred in response. Hermione stood up and began to do her nightly routine.
She brushed her curly hair out thoroughly before undressing. She slipped on her pyjama bottoms and a tank top before using her lotion on her hands, arms, and legs. Finally finished, Hermione slid between her sheets and sighed. It felt so good to be in her bed, warm and safe. Oddly enough, she didn't feel worried about having a strange man in her living room downstairs.
It must be because of the wards.
Back at the end of fifth year, the Order had set up wards around Hermione's house. If someone wishing them ill would approach, alarms would sound and the portkey Hermione was to keep on her at all times would activate. The alarms didn't sound, so the man downstairs couldn't have been a threat. Hermione fingered the portkey-necklace she wore. It made her feel safe, and that feeling of safety helped her drop off despite the loud noise coming from outside.
Hermione tiptoed down the stairs, attempting to avoid disturbing her guest. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she peeked around the corner in to her living room and found the man on his stomach, face turned to the right and snoring loudly. Hermione bit her lip to keep in her giggles as she spotted a wet spot on the pillow from drool. She turned into the kitchen and made some breakfast - bacon, eggs, and toast - before sitting down and skimming the newspaper.
Once finished, she made her way upstairs and showered. After washing, she dried and got dressed. Hermione tucked her shoes into her backpack before heading downstairs. Her backpack was had her mobile phone (which she really didn't use), a book she read while waiting in line, and anything else she thought she might need on her trip to town.
Before leaving the house, she wrote a quick note to Apraxin explaining where she went and when she'd be back. After writing that he should help himself to whatever food and drink he wanted, she signed her name and left, locking the door behind her. Hermione spent several moments putting her roller blades on and struggling to get onto her feet, before rolling away down the road.
Hermione roller bladed a mile down the road to the little town of Picket, just outside London. Hermione marvelled at the peace and quiet of the country, even as she looked ahead and saw the buildings that made up London in the distance. Everything was wet from the storm, and the road had puddles of water Hermione swerved to avoid.
Hermione rolled into town and passed the Post Office and an ice cream shop. Hermione called out greetings to those she passed as she made her way to the grocery store. Once outside, Hermione changed from her blades to her tennis shoes. Tucking the roller blades shoes into her backpack, Hermione entered the grocery. She shivered at the feeling of cold that greeted her at the entrance as she made her way to the dairy products.
After shopping around a bit, Hermione decided she had everything she could want or need. After paying the money, Hermione switched her shoes for the blades yet again. Hermione tucked her shoes in before the food - she didn't want the food squashed or dirty by the shoes, even if everything was wrapped up.
The return home took longer than the trip into town did, mostly because of the extra weight in her backpack. Hermione sighed in relief as she slipped the pack off her back and stretched leisurely before making her way inside. Once inside, she put away the food and made herself lunch. A quick peek into the living room showed Apraxin still asleep, this time on his back.
He seems like a nice man. A little odd, but nice enough. I wonder how he came to be here. How long ago was it that he left Russia? The man was an intriguing puzzle, one Hermione was beginning to long to solve. Dismissing the enigma asleep in her living room, Hermione climbed the stairs to her room. Slipping her headphones on, Hermione opened the book on healing spells she had been reading last night, and began to yet again devour the written word.
Two and a half hours later, Hermione closed the book and set it reverently aside. Her headphones had not blocked out the noise so well that she wouldn't of been able to hear Apraxin call - they worked just well enough for her to concentrate. It's so hard reading when it's noisy. I hated reading in the common room for that very reason. Hermione's stomach rumbled, turning Hermione's attention away from her thoughts of noise and reading.
She made her way downstairs to make something to eat. Apraxin wasn't sleeping as hard as he was before. Hermione promised herself to be extra careful not to make noise. Finishing her sandwich with another bite, Hermione threw the paper towel she'd used to make the food on in the garbage can. Hermione caught a glance at the clock above the fireplace and saw that it was 4 in the afternoon.
Deciding to take a shower, she gathered the necessities and entered the bathroom. The click of the lock sliding in place comforted her. Hermione didn't dawdle - she turned the water on, jumped in, and immediately began to wash. Hermione knew she could do things the Wizarding way - shaving, lighting a light, things like that, but Hermione preferred to do things the Muggle way when in her parent's home.
Stepping out of the shower, she began to mechanically dry herself off. Her hair took the most time, but soon enough she was finished. She dressed in her pj's and padded her way down the stairs. Apraxin was stirring as she reached the last step. Hermione waited for him to sit up and take in his surroundings before speaking.
"Hello, sir. Are you hungry?" Hermione queried. The man shook his head, more to shake his sleepiness away than to refuse nourishment.
"No, Hermione. I am fine." Hermione was halfway to the kitchen when he had replied. She stopped and turned around to find him completely dressed in his old clothes and getting his shoes on. Her brow furrowed in confusion. How'd he get dressed so fast?
"But sir, you've been asleep all day. Surely you must be hungry?" she asked. The man looked up at her, dark eyes watching her with a look that made Hermione very uneasy. His eyes are like a predator's. Hermione shivered at the thought, and the man looked away.
"I must go. I will eat later. There are people looking for me, and they will be back soon to check and see if I have died." He moved towards the door, but stopped abruptly when he was passing Hermione. He gazed down at her solemnly. He reached a hand out to touch her cheek, but stopped inches from her skin. Hermione quivered where she stood, gazing up at the man. He suddenly seemed dangerous and eerie, and Hermione wanted him gone.
"Thank you for what you have done. You have saved my life, and I will not forget that." He dropped his hand and disappeared out the door, which closed softly behind him. Hermione raced into the living room to the window seat and peered through the window. There was no sign of the man. The yard, street, and woods were empty. Not even an animal was about. How can that be? It's like he disappeared in thin air.
Hermione suddenly remember her comment about the Muggle world, and the man's reaction to it. He hadn't seemed curious at all about the word, which any normal Muggle would have been. Hermione felt realization slam into her. He was a wizard! He disapparated. An idea of the danger she had been in hit her quite forcefully. Even with the wards, by the time an Order member arrived, he could've killed me and left the scene. Hermione swallowed heavily and thanked every God and Goddess she'd ever heard of for her safety.
That's it, Granger. No more helping strange and hurt men. At least, don't invite them into your home.
Hermione stepped away from the window and closed the curtains tightly. She went about the house, locking doors and windows, drawing the curtains shut as she went. She knew locking them was futile - any witch or wizard could get in. But she felt safer with them locked somehow. She threw the blankets, pillows, and clothes the weird man had used into the wash, though she had no idea why.
Hermione gathered her entertainment for the night (her music and another book, Jane Eyre) before settling on the couch with the lamp on next to her. She began to read in earnest, blocking out the real world for some time. Several thoughts kept nagging at her brain, and Hermione set aside her book with a sigh to think them out. It was the only way the thoughts would stop bugging her - Hermione knew this from experience.
I wonder if Professor McGonagall has gotten my letter. Hermione's future rested on that letter. Unable to decide on what to do with her life, Hermione had turned to Professor McGonagall - a positive authoritative figure that had always been prominently in her life. Hermione had written asking for guidance from all the Hogwarts teachers willing to give some. The people were older, and with age came wisdom. Perhaps they had some way of helping her decide.
Maybe I'll even apprentice to one of them. Hermione smiled widely with excitement, and suddenly she couldn't wait for Professor McGonagall's reply. I'm sure they'll be very helpful. Hermione could just imagine all the possible jobs out there - Mediwizard, Curse-breaker, Unspeakable, Auror...the wizarding world was an exciting world, and Hermione wished she could try everything once.
As pleasant as her thoughts were, Hermione knew better than to leave a nagging thought alone for too long. Reluctantly, she pushed away her thoughts for later and focused on the other thing that had been bothering her.
Apraxin's exit...there was no crack of apparition, and no whooshing sound of a portkey. Besides, he had nothing on him but a phone and his clothes. No jewelry or anything. Hermione mused. Can portkeys be silenced, and can the portkeyed object still work? If his mobile phone was the portkey, I suppose that doesn't necessarily mean it can't work. Hermione bolted up right; another thought barrelling it's way in. Yes, it does mean it won't work! Electronics don't work when surrounded by magic. That's why nothing electrical works at Hogwarts.
So how did he leave? Hermione was bothered by this thought, until another one barged in, causing Hermione to relax. He could be an animagus. Something small, like a snake that can hide in the grass. Or maybe a bug. Hermione's thoughts turned to a certain beetle-reporter, and a smug grin flitted across her face. So that's it - he turned into some small animal and left. But why? Surely there are faster ways to leave. Hermione couldn't reason this one out. The only thing she could come up with is Apraxin didn't want his magic to be traced after apparition. It didn't explain why he didn't take a portkey, but that could be explained away - maybe he didn't have one with him.
Hermione felt herself relaxing even more. He wouldn't have stuck around either, because he said that people were looking for him. Hermione wanted to make sure he hadn't, though. The memory of his face when she'd asked if he was hungry...Hermione knew there were cannibals out there, but she had been sure she would never meet one. Now she wasn't so sure. What she couldn't figure out was how to protect herself from him. He didn't register as a threat to the Order wards, but there could be ways around them. She didn't know what type was used on her house. So how should she protect herself?
Oh, I am an idiot! Hermione slapped her forehead and groaned aloud. Am I a witch or not? I can add to the wards. Hermione quickly pulled out her wand (she never went far without it) and began casting personal wards on the already warded house. Some were on the entire house, but most focused on the windows and doors. Once finished, Hermione collapsed on the couch and heaved a sigh of relief.
Feeling lazy and tired, Hermione looked at the clock. Eleven at night - saying goodbye, reading for who knows how long, and casting wards had taken longer than she thought. It'd only seemed like an hour or two since Apraxin left. Fatigue hit Hermione suddenly, so she sleepily covered herself with the blanket kept on the back of the couch and slipped into unconsciousness.
Her dreams were filled with Apraxin's face, staring at her with hungry and malicious intent. His black eyes blazed with hatred. Apraxin's skin disintegrated slowly before her eyes: the eyes slipped out and his hair drifted down slowly. Eventually all that was left was a grinning skull. Blood poured out the eye sockets like tears, and then out of the mouth as well. When the blood stopped, maggots crawled out his eyes, mouth and nose. The air became unbearably cold. Hermione couldn't see a thing except her breath in the air before her. She turned around, frantically searching for an exit. A hand on her shoulder caused her to cry out in fear. The nails dug into her shoulder deeply, and Hermione made a noise of pain.
The hand turned her towards the body it belonged to, still digging painfully into her shoulder. Hermione's eyes travelled up. Past the chest, over the shoulders and mouth, before reaching the face. Hermione's eyes widened in fear and a scream lodged itself in her throat.
"What's wrong, Hermione? You look like you've seen a vampire," Apraxin said, smiling widely. His large canine teeth gleamed, looking pointy and very real. The tip of the tooth curved just a little in, but you could still tell they were as sharp as a pin. Hermione struggled to get away, but Apraxin held her tightly. Despite her exhaustion, Hermione continued to struggle. She kicked at his legs with her feet and dug her nails into his hands on her shoulders.
"Where are you going, Hermione? I'm hungry, and a good hostess feeds her guests," Apraxin admonished, even as he leaned closer to take a bite out of Hermione's neck.
About the headphones - Yes, Hermione put them on without actually listening to music. I did this for two reasons:
One, I don't know any foreign music. I'm American, and I don't know what type of music people in other countries listen to. I don't know if they listen to American music or not. Please don't be offended - that's the last thing I want. If somebody could tell me what type of music (bands, song titles, genre, etc.) popular in Britain (I believe that's where Hermione lives - I'll have to check), then I'd be most grateful.
Two - I myself do this. I hate getting distracted from my reading, whether by the TV, radio, or what have you. So I usually slip on a pair of headphones to at least block out the noise a little bit. Maybe that's weird...but there you have it.
I'm mentioned this in Chapter 5, but I thought I'd warn you all. This story is slow taking off - at least that's in my opinion. You all might feel different. However, if you do find it slow at first, I just ask you stick with me for a little bit.
Please review!