"I'm yours, and you know it."

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The Game Is Over

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Rating: M

Warnings: Explicit sex, horror and angst, contains graphic violence and blood-drinking.

The Game Was Over

The pale moon was high in the gloomy night sky and the sharp croak of crows pierced the chilly air. Fallen leaves flew around lifted by the acrimoniously cold wind which sent them racing through raced the dilapidated backstreets of the small quart. Hermione wandered alone down the poorly lit street, humming a tune softly like the world outside her mind didn't exist.

Despite it was dangerous for her to wander outside alone she didn't want to stay at home. Her husband, Ron, was back from a night out at the pub and was extremely drunk. She sighed heavily. After everything they went through, she really didn't have the heart to blame him. She had decided to simply disappear before her husband noticed that his good-for-nothing wife was there.

Hermione still had slight bruises on her arms and face where Ron had beat her last time. She may have been stubborn, but she knew not to push it when it came to her husband. When he was drunk, he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if Hermione didn't back down; saving her health and surviving to see the rising of the new sun was her new priority. A part of her knew Ron probably would never hurt her up to the point of it being fatal, but she didn't want to gamble. Her parents had taught her not to trust drunkards. Hermione also knew that if she got too badly hurt, her friends and colleagues would notice sooner or later, especially Ginny. She didn't want her to get involved, especially because of everything that happened during the past five years.

She sighed again, the memories that flew back into her brain making her shiver. After Voldemort;s death everything was supposed to be perfect. She and Ron, Harry and Ginny. Two perfect couples, four best friends, one ideal family. And it was like that, at least for a while.

Then everything changed. It twisted. It broke. Broke into a thousand of pieces that scattered itself around, leaving nothingness behind like the shards of a broken mirror. Too small to have any importance yet sharp enough to cut their hearts, leaving them to bleed… bleed until they died like their hopes for a better future.

She turned the corner sharply and her pace sped up. She didn't know where she was going, nor did she especially care about the destination; her feet followed the path that led to an unknown place. She wanted to run, run away from everything and forget everything, yet her mind refused to listen to her pleas and kept reviving the painful memories.

The memories of the day when Harry told her that he wants her despite she was married, that he doesn't care for Ginny anymore. The memories of that rainy, sinister night when Ginny, shocked and soaked, threw herself into her arms and muttered the words that changed their lives forever. Harry had become a vampire.

A vampire. Those words still echoed in her tattered mind. It was then that the real nightmare begun, rendering their previous problems akin to an unimportant soap opera. As Harry became hellbent on chasing them, she and Ron had to move from their home, and consequently kept moving for months. He quit his job and started to drink, blaming everything on Hermione. The ruined marriage, the loss of his almost-brother. And what was even worse than his accusation was her subconscious thought that maybe Ron's words weren't striking far away from truth. Harry persecuted them, stalked them. And because of what? Because of her. He wanted her so badly that he would do absolutely everything to gain his desired prey. Oh, how had she started to hate him because of that.

One small piece of her heart wanted to justify him – since he was a vampire and swayed by his bloodlust he couldn't think normally. The bigger part of her heart, the part that longed to have her devoted and love-full Ron back, wanted to judge him. The part that was hidden deep beneath the surface, the part of her heart she feared the most, wanted to run into his arms.

After an hour of aimless wandering she reached a small shadowed park. Hermione looked at the swing which swayed eerily as if some invisible ghost was sitting there. She discarded the silly thought, moving slowly towards it. As she sat down the swing swung and buckled under her weight. A small tear threatened to spill across her pale, frozen cheek as she recalled her parents and their often visits to the neighboring park. The gust of wind messed her hair and threw it across her face but she didn't react.

Trying to keep her diminishing body heat, she pulled her black jacket closer. Slowly, against her will, she began to shiver. It was too cold here, but where could she go? Home was now not an option, so where?

She sighed. Running away wasn't really a smart choice. She never was a coward and Ron was probably asleep by now, so she wouldn't have to deal with him in all his inebriated glory. Teeth chattering, she got up off the swing and started to walk towards her house.

Suddenly, the wind rose and swirled around her, carrying with it an unearthly noise and she froze in the place. Her ears prickled; it seemed the wind whispered something to her ominously, yet caressingly, like silk.

'What was that?' she thought. 'I know that voice. But from where?' She swallowed, thinking quickly.

Then something clicked inside her mind. She knew what that was. It was him. He was here, ready to devour her and shred her to pieces like an insatiable chimaera.

The voice seemed to get closer and louder. Hermione knew she needed to run away, now. She had stayed away from home to avoid troubles and staying here now meant she would stumble into them anyways.

She regained control of her stiff body. Feeling tension building in her legs, she sprang up and leaped over the edge of the park's railing, landing awkwardly; thanking God she had magic or else she would have broken something, she looked back. She could see one slim, shadowy shape lumbering gracefully towards her. For a moment Hermione wanted to draw her wand and fight… and then she realized it was useless against a vampire. She wouldn't be able to fight him alone. Hermione turned her back to him, her heart beginning to pound. Plotting a course to reach her home, she clenched her small fists and ran as fast as she could. She wouldn't help him to satisfy his libido, she decided.

A person on the opposite end of the grounds smirked slightly as ghostly moonlight lightened the messy tresses of a girl dashing away.

"Where are you going, Mione?" he whispered amusedly. "The game has just begun."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder as she reached the pathway, only to see that Harry had stepped forward. She turned her back again and run, fearing for her life. Who knows what would happen if he catches her? She never saw him as a vampire before.

Seeing the retreat as a sign of a weak challenge, Harry sped up. The moonlight shadowed across his face, and bloodlust could be seen deep in his once completely emerald—now slightly—red-hazed eyes.

Hermione's legs were screaming in agony as her muscles begun to give up and slowed her down but she kept picking up her feet and stepping quicker. Fear fueled her and she continued to run. Faster and faster… faster for her own life. The darkness blinded her, and she barely saw where she was going. Reaching her home was no longer her objective, now she just wanted to hide in the empty darkness and surrender to the recluse of her worn out mind.

As the minutes passed by, she knew that this would never happen. Hermione couldn't outrun him, not when who-knows how many litters of blood were surging through his system. She knew he would keep running longer than she, his prey. Her chocolate eyes were blurred with sweat dripping off her forehead, her brain starting to wield to the demands of her weakened body. Her actions were getting sluggish and she was slowing down. No matter how strongly her stubborn mind was yelling to keep her feet going, her body was ignoring the commands and gradually started shutting down.

Harry could see her slowing as she dazedly picked up a path for her feet. 'I will let you think that you won for a while,' he thought as his own feet slowed to a stop.

Clumsily, Hermione tripped and stumbled over her own shoes; roaring with helplessness, she cursed loudly. It was over now. Hermione turned, clutching the ankle she had tripped on. Her eyes widened in surprise: Harry was nowhere to be seen and her lips curved into a smile filled with relief. Now she just needed to find a way back home. Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she stood up and sprinted across the shadowed street, unaware of two eyes which followed her every movement, hidden behind a tree.

Hermione stopped again. Everything was dark and foreboding, bands of moonlight casting ghostly shadows across the dank features of the street before her. The houses lining the dark road appeared to be abandoned. Only the doors of one of them was slightly ajar, she noticed. Thanking her lucky star, she hurried towards the entrance. Slamming the doors behind her, she winced when the pain from her ankle reached her brain.

She looked around the unknown building, after a while deciding that this was probably an abandoned warehouse. Corners of the room were covered with webs and dust, making her cough lightly.

"Unbelievable," Hermione murmured quietly as she rummaged through her pockets, searching for her wand. It wasn't there. She sighed, astonished at her bad luck. It probably fell from her pocket while she was running. Having nothing better to do she sat on the floor, unwilling to move. She felt her courage leaving her as despair infested her heart. She was alone… so alone.

All of a sudden, the floorboards creaked. She sprang up and threw a bewildered look around herself.

It was him, again. He was sitting on the stairs, watching her carefully. An amused grin spread across his face. Hermione couldn't help but notice that his face was now pale, his emerald eyes tainted with just a small trace of crimson. Her heart clenched, she couldn't help but think that he was more handsome than ever.

"Hello my little Mione."

His voice was as smooth as velvet, like he had been taunting and luring her. She stumbled forward weakly. Why fight anymore? He had her and she knew it. She was intelligent enough. Her wounded ankle refused to endure her weight and betrayed her; she tripped forward into his arms. Her brown orbs widened in fear as he patted her softly. Surrender, her heart screamed to her. It was so sweet, sweeter than constantly fighting him. He pulled her onto his lap, seemingly lovable. That was something she lost, something she craved for; despite her wits and courage she was still a simple woman. She had hormones and feeling, and that definitely didn't help her to think normally now.

"Just give up."

Hermione didn't know one thing – the power of a vampire's compulsion was a dangerous weapon he had, a weapon he would use against her. Unaware of it, she kept the contact with his eyes, allowing his will to slowly infest her own.

A moment later, she nodded weakly, trying to smile. Why was she so afraid? Even if he was a vampire, he was still Harry. Just Harry, her Harry. Her heart wanted to believe in that. She didn't want to look at him like he was a dragon, or some other fear-inspiring beast.

Hermione missed her old life, including him. She started slipping into insanity a long time ago, and now was the time to finish what she had started. "I'm yours, and you know it," she muttered, her words leaving her mouth without her agreement. She had been running away from his arms for so long now, but tonight was the end, finally. He caught her.

The game was over.

She felt his lips against her neck, shuddering as his fangs caressed her flesh. In a motion that was so painfully slow he removed her jacket aside and slipped a hand under her shirt. He rubbed his hand against her stomach as his lips traced her elegant neck, and she knew what was going to happen even before he bit down.

A cute gasp left her throat as he sunk his sharp fangs in. He took long, avid gulps of her blood, feeling her body becoming lax in his arms. He traced his smooth tongue over the two perfectly shaped wounds before he pulled away. She felt like someone had washed her brain. Her usually twinkling eyes were heavy and relaxed as he tilted her chin to passionately crush their lips together. Her own blood filled her mouth and she smiled against his lips, for the first time in her life perfectly content, swooped away in her insanity.

"I could give you everything you want. I can give you immortality, immortality which you'll spend with me. Just be mine," Harry said, looking in her dazed eyes. One still awake corner of her mind was connected his offer with someone else. Voldemort… Harry started to sound like his old nemesis. Maybe the years he had spent like the host for a tainted piece of Voldemort's soul took its toll on him. But her mind was too weak to think about something as complex as that now. Why should she fight the darkness, when it was so much pleasurable and easier to give in?

"Do as you wish," Hermione murmured as her body became unusually light, just like she was boneless.

A/N: I enjoyed every single moment I spent writing this! Poor Hermione...Sure was fun playing with her mind like that. I hope the story was angsty enough for your liking. If so, I'd be glad if you could drop a review and tell me what you think.