So... this is it, folks. The last chapter. If you are craving more SS/HG vamp action, Droxy has commissioned a sequel to this story that deals primarily with the Malfoys and the backlash from Draco's death. It is well under way, so look for that in the future. All my thanks to those brave enough to follow this story - you are made of stern stuff. ;) Usual disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

They were the motliest crew to ever stand before the gates of Fortăreaţa Novăceştilor.

"Do you think they're trying to compensate for something?" Luna mused aloud, taking in the grandeur of the place. She was currently resting on Charlie's back, having ridden piggy-back all the way up the mountain.

"I wouldn't ask them that, if I were you," her companion warned. "They might take offense and eat you just for the hell of it."

"Hush, both of you!" Snape's hissed warning was accompanied by a snarl. "Someone's coming."

The stone barrier swung inward and revealed Radu Novac, standing there with his arms crossed and a wide smile on his face. "Ah! You are better, copile!" He nodded in greeting then embraced his child tightly. "I am fericit you have come home." Releasing him, Radu turned his attention to the woman behind him and off to his right.

"Miss Granger?"

She bit her lip and gave him a shy smile. "Thank you for answering my letter."

Approaching her slowly, he took her hand in his, tears edging over his lashes. "It was the least I could do, draguţo." He touched her crown of dark curls, looking at her as if she were a long-lost loved one who had returned to their fold. "I am truly grateful Severus was able to reach you in time."

Snape laid a hand on Radu's shoulder and squeezed it in sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Radu's tears spilled over, but he managed a smile at the thoughtfulness of his child, knowing he would never know the rapture that Severus did. "You are frumoşi together." The prince ran his fingers along Hermione's collarbone. "The bond between you is visible."

"It's a lovely shade of sage green and ivory," Luna commented as she slipped from Charlie's back. "They complement each other very well."

"It cannot be," Radu gasped in surprise, staring at Luna. "The last of the Zâne!"

She looked at Charlie and whispered, "Is that good, or will they eat me now?"

He snickered and shook his head. "It's good… and it explains a lot of things."

The older vampire placed a hand over his heart and bowed low to the pixy-like blonde. "We are honoured to have you as a guest."

"Oh! That sounds so temporary; do you mind if I stay longer?"

He blinked. "Of course not. May I ask as to the reason?"

"Well, I'm supposed to become Hermione's familiar, and—"

"You cannot," Radu interjected. "Zânele do not belong to anyone. If we try to brand you, it would certainly kill you."

Hermione's face fell. "But—"

"There are no other options, Anhelo Nex."

Luna looked forlornly at her friend. "I'm sorry," she said sadly.

Hermione curled into Severus' side, trying not to break down. "Would you stay anyway?"

The younger woman smiled brilliantly. "Of course. I like this—it's wicked fun!"

Charlie had remained silent throughout most of the exchange, not wanting to influence Luna's decision to stay or go. It made sense, her being of the Fae. It was possibly the reason he felt at ease around her, that she made his tumultuous emotions settle so that he could deal with them. It would kill him to let her go, for he knew he couldn't leave—ever—but if she stayed of her own free will, then that was another matter altogether.

As if reading his mind, which she might be capable of, Luna asked him quietly, "Do you want me to stay?"

Glancing at Snape, who had an expectant look about him, as if interested to hear his answer, Charlie leaned closer. "I would love for you to never go."

"That fits so well with my plans!" she exclaimed excitedly. Without thought, she pressed a kiss to his soft lips and pulled back to smirk at his gob-smacked expression. "I can't wait!"

"Shall I show you to your quarters?" Radu inquired before Charlie could say anything else.

"Yes, please," Hermione answered. "It was a long journey and even though it's only just after midnight, I could use an early night."

"Follow me, then."

Several days later, after they had all settled into their chambers, Hermione sat in the window seat with a few candles, carving. Neither of the men had been any help, so she'd decided to read up on the subject herself. Strewn about the floor were several wizarding newspapers touting the disappearance of the Weasley clan... and Draco Malfoy. There were speculations aplenty, Hermione's favourites being: Draco had killed them all, save Ginny, in a torrid Romeo and Juliet-type of love affair, knowing her family would never approve of him as her suitor. There was also the one about Percy cracking under the strain of his position at the Ministry and slaughtering the entire lot of them. No bodies were ever found, so the Ministry was having a hard time proving anything. Most of their leads came to an abrupt end, and the ones that didn't fizzled under the weight of any close scrutiny. Hermione had no doubt in her mind that Radu had orchestrated it all very quietly.

Biting her lower lip in concentration, she guided the reed wand to emboss intricate patterns on one of the four pieces of Ron's spine. She had read of a doctor that had taken the vertebrae of King Charles the first and turned it into a saltshaker and, being the curious person that she was, wanted to find out if it was possible. She even went a few steps further by adding a peppermill, and since Weasley's spine was quite long, she broke it into four pieces, to carve a smaller and a larger set.

Setting the large saltshaker to the side, she began wrapping the completed smaller set and placing them into a box that was spelled to never allow the items to break. Addressing the parcel, she put it to the side and did the same with the larger peppermill and saltshaker. Once both were ready to go, she summoned a goshawk and instructed it where to deliver the packages. Smiling to herself as the magnificent bird of prey flew off, she mused that she would've paid good money to see the look on Lavender Brown's face when she opened the box that contained the smaller set. She'd disliked the woman immensely, not so much for the fiasco in their sixth year, but because Hermione had always been insecure when it came to relationships and Lavender knew that and had taken advantage of it. Now, the ditzy witch would forever have a piece of Ron to cling to. The larger ones were sent to Hagrid, as they best fit his meaty hands, and Hermione knew the game-keeper would appreciate the sentiment—if not the gift itself. Neither parcel could be traced, so she wasn't too worried that the origins of such gifts would be revealed.

Radu always seemed to have a fresh supply of blood on hand, so Hermione and Snape dined with him nightly. Occasionally, a dignitary from another coven would also be present, but for the most part they socialized little. It was on one of those nights that the prince suggested they build relations with the Wizarding world, seeing as they really didn't have an emissary or an ambassador for their kind. He had heard that there was now a werewolf that had obtained a seat in the Wizengamot, so why shouldn't a vampire? Hermione enthusiastically volunteered for the position. While Severus was often dragged on her long-suffering crusade for vampire rights, he was content to continue his work in Potions, providing supplies for the local apothecary in the Muggle villages.

As a goodwill gesture, and a study in irony, Hermione boxed up the Percy teapot—which had a rather large chip broken off the spout—and sent it to Minister Shacklebolt with an introduction letter Radu had written. If all went well, she and Severus would be travelling back and forth between the fortress and the Ministry, campaigning for vampire civil rights.

Charlie and Luna had been moved into separate antechambers near Hermione and Severus', but they gradually began staying in the one suite, which worked out for the better, as both were right at hand if something should arise. Charlie kept George's lamp close by, and if either vampire happened to walk through their room, they would see it lit, casting a soft, rosy glow about the area. Luna was, indeed, a free agent of sorts. The clan had even went so far as to offer her a 'familial bond'—which wouldn't kill her—but allowed her the same rights and protection similar to those of Novăceştii descent. When she'd enthusiastically accepted, Charlie had been beside himself with relief, and they'd celebrated with a loud and vigorous bout of shagging.

At some point, Hermione received a letter from Harry. While she read it, her eyes became clouded with tears of happiness. He'd written that, having rid himself of Draco's wand, he'd left the Wizarding world altogether. The letter explained how Malfoy had regained possession of his wand, Harry having just given it back since he had no use for it. The same thing happened with the Elder Wand. No longer needing the dreadful stick, Harry had placed it in Dumbledore's tomb, knowing that when he passed, the wand would lack an owner. Harry now resided in Mousehole, Cornwall—an isolated community situated on the Atlantic coastline—and was enjoying life in general with a nice Muggle girl. Hermione had written him back, thanking him for the missive and expressing hope that they would continue exchanging letters in the future.

Reclining on the crimson sheets, Severus watched his mate through all her ablutions as she prepared for bed.

He could tell she still considered herself human when she slathered moisturizer on her already soft skin. He had to smirk when she asked him if she should keep what little cosmetics she had. He'd immediately told her that she had her own beauty, one that she'd always had, even as a young lady. While she'd packed her clothes, she'd often asked him if she would need this or that, and if it would be cold due to the mountain air. He'd succinctly told her that he wouldn't know, since his body temperature was constant regardless of the environment, except for an increase just after feeding… or sex.

Folding his arm behind his head, he basked in the contentment and love he always felt emanated from her. And it was all for him. Like with Charlie fighting the brand, he wondered why he'd fought the idea of converting her, or even caring for her. Tasting her, being buried deep within her welcoming body, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, and there was nothing in the world that would make him give her up.

When she caught him gazing at her lovingly, she graced him with a magnificent smile and turned off the light. She approached him slowly, seductively, her black gown sliding sensually over her curvy hips. Kneeling on the floor between his legs, she ran her hands up and down his linen-clad thighs.

"Severus," she cooed, and nuzzled his already hardened bulge before making quick work of the fastenings at the top of his trousers. "I want to taste you."

"By all means, Lady Snape," he replied in a raspy tone, lifting himself on his elbows to watch her slide his trousers over his hips.

"Mmmh, I like the sound of that." Having freed his erection, she took a long swipe at the slightly pink head.

"I'll make any sound you want if you keep doing that," he said between pants. He didn't grab her hair and direct her on what to do because he wanted to see what she'd come up with on her own. She was always so resourceful.

Taking the tip into her mouth, she swirled her tongue over the spongy flesh, tasting the milky fluid that oozed slightly from the slit. She then hummed around his hard shaft, delighting in the fact that he fisted his hands in the sheets and bucked his hips. "Lift up," she whispered.

Doing as she ordered, he felt his trousers tugged down and off his legs, and flung to the other side of the room.

Indulging in a little non-verbal magic, she positioned him on the bed just so, then crawled once more between his thighs.

His aching cock was suddenly engulfed in heat. As he peered down, he became fascinated with the sight of his length disappearing between her lips, the sensation heightened when she used her fangs to scrape along the edges of his rigid shaft. When her pace quickened, he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Hermione, love… I—"

His voice croaked when he felt a foreign, intrusion at his backside. The minx had wetted two fingers and inserted them in his puckered hole, searching for his prostate! Shocked into unresponsiveness by the roughness of the invasion, he briefly considered protesting before he suddenly arched his back and screamed his release when she found what she was seeking and stroked it only twice.

He sighed, his body filled with such a peaceful, languid sensation, that he felt weightless on the soft mattress. Closing and opening his eyes again slowly, he quirked his lip when her face came into view. "That was…"

"Good? Different? The best thing you'd ever done with a female partner?" she asked, insecurity lacing her voice.

"Indescribable." He continued to bask in the afterglow for a while, then frowned somewhat. "What did you mean, 'best thing I'd ever done with a female partner'?"

Her giggle belied the seriousness of the situation. "Oh, nothing."

Grabbing her arms, he hauled her up his body until her core was resting against his still-hard prick. "That is not a nothing statement, love."

"I'll tell you later," she purred, nuzzling his neck and scrapping her fangs over the claim mark she had gifted him with.

It was much, much later.

"Trimisule!" Radu bellowed at the antechamber door. "You have a letter!"

Charlie rubbed his eyes and glanced out the window, noticing the pre-dawn haze. "I'm coming." Wearily, he stumbled to the door and opened it. "How are you still awake? Snape and Hermione dropped about ten minutes ago after several wall-shaking rounds of mindless, carnal rutting."

"I think all you red dogs have a tongue that wags," Radu observed with a snort, handing Charlie the parchment.

"Woof, woof," the redhead muttered sarcastically. Breaking the seal and reading the contents stole his sleepiness away from him immediately. "Shit!"

"What is it?"

"My brother, Bill, and his wife!"

Scowling, Radu tsk'd the familiar. "Snape told me they were taken care of!"

Charlie shook his head. "All of them were, except for Bill. We had to leave unexpectedly."

"Where are this Bill and wife?"

Looking ashen, Charlie gulped. "They're on their way to Romania."

"Zis iz a tres belle maison," Fleur commented, angling her swan-like neck to allow for the maximum effect of her allure. "Tu et le prince, n'est ce pas?"

"Oui, Madame," Radu responded. "I am the prince here." He lifted his goblet of wine and drank deeply. "It is fortunate that you and your husband could join us on such short notice."

William Weasley sat in a high-backed chair, studying the occupants at the dinner table. Charlie sat off to his left, looking for all the world like his dragon had been kicked. At the head, was none other than vampire royalty, Radu Novac. Bill wasn't stupid. He and his wife—who seemed to be oblivious to the danger they were in—were sitting in a nest of vipers… a nest of very hungry vipers. His wife was chattering companionably with a male vampire named Bujor, who seemed to be taking a great interest in her breasts. She either liked the attention or she hadn't noticed.

What surprised him most, however, was Professor Severus Snape sitting next to Hermione Granger, the woman who was supposedly Ron's girlfriend—at least she had been when Ron had last owled him. Apparently, that was not the case anymore, for the two looked like they only had eyes for each other.

Having found no answers himself, regarding his parents and siblings' disappearance, he'd decided to contact Charlie, though his brother hadn't been where he should've been. The Reserve hadn't seen the dragon-keeper in months and warily advised Bill to depart hastily. Of course, Bill hadn't accepted that and had gone in search of clues, eventually finding several that had led him to where he now sat. He didn't understand how his brother Charlie, the smartest Weasley besides him, had gotten involved in this mess.

"Shall we adjourn for Cognac?" Bujor suggested, never peeling his eyes away from Fleur.

"You drink liquor?" Bill asked the prince, impressed.

"I drink many things, Mister Weasley." Radu arched a brow. "Perhaps the women would care to stroll in the conservatory?"

"Oh, yes!" Luna exclaimed, jumping from her seat and pulling on Fleur's arm, unwilling to take no for an answer. "They have the rarest plant I've ever seen—it's called the Ya-te-veo. It smells like a rotting corpse."

"Zounds `orrible!"

"It is! Come on." Luna tugged until the other blonde was standing and following her.

"Go on, love, I have business," Severus whispered in Hermione's ear. He pressed a kiss to her jaw.

She pouted somewhat. "You have all the fun." She leaned in close and whispered, "Save the head."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Eww, don't ever call me that again!" she groused. "Makes me feel like I'm aeons old." Rising from her seat, she followed Fleur and Luna, who disappeared around the corner.

Severus studied both Weasleys seated at the table. Hermione was right to be jealous of him. This would be quite interesting, indeed.

"Shall we, Gentlemen?"

Once all parties were within the study—except Charlie, whom Snape had sent to keep a closer eye on Hermione and Luna, and because he didn't want his familiar to suffer more than he already had—Snape added several wards he was certain not even the experienced curse-breaker would be able to crack. If he did attempt to do so, it would take him months to unravel... and he really didn't have months.

Bujor and Radu stood on either side of the dark wizard as they approached a wary Bill Weasley.

"They say man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victims he intends to eat… until he eats them," Severus drawled.

"You would know, wouldn't you, Snape?" Bill accused, raising his wand. "I knew Charlie was too quiet for his own good."

Waving his hand, Snape sent the eldest Weasley's wand into the roaring fire behind him with a powerful non-verbal Expelliarmus. "You'll no longer need that." He turned to Bujor. "Bind him, please."

The vampire's fangs descended and his eyes glowed indigo. "With pleasure."

It was highly amusing to watch Weasley scramble around the small chamber. His mistake came when he tripped over the chaise lounge and went sprawling across the marble floor. Bujor pounced on him and held him in a hypnotic state until he'd wrapped several lengths of heavy rope around the man's body.

Snape placed his boot heel on Bill's neck. "That's it, Mister Weasley. Struggle. I do love to have the blood flowing before I sup. Gives it a spicy kick, I must say."

"I'll kick you, you fucking bastard!" The redhead was effectively silenced as soon as he was finished with that sentence.

"Why does everyone think I'm a bastard? My parents were married, for Merlin's sake."

"It is the way of the unimaginative lot," Radu commiserated. "We will leave you to finish your work." Inclining his head, he led the way out of the room, Bujor close behind.

Once the door was closed, Snape pulled the struggling man upright to rest on his knees. "Did you know, William, that in Ancient Egypt women used crocodile dung for birth control?" He made the younger wizard arch his head back. "If it was so easy for them in the Dark Ages, why couldn't your mother manage such a feat, powerful witch that she was?"

Bill tried moving, but the position his body was in allowed him no leeway. He stilled his thrashing when the dark vampire began stroking the side of his neck.

"Think of it this way, William," Snape mused. "I love you more than anyone in this world, because I'm willing to kill you. Being loved can never compete with being murdered. That is when someone really gives their all for you."

Though he'd just dined with Radu and his guests, Severus sank his fangs in the crux of Bill's shoulder, drinking the copious amount of crimson fluid that sprang forth. The blood was indeed spicy, as he'd predicted, but he didn't drain the oldest Weasley completely.

Taking the long ponytail of Bill's hair in hand, Snape pulled it back until the man's head was arched unnaturally so he could stare into Bill's drowsy eyes. "Hermione wants this, so I do hope you understand."

Snape laid the tip of his wand just under Bill's jaw and started chanting in a low, melodious tone. The wand might as well have been a specialised scalpel, methodically slicing Weasley's head from his body. When it was done, he had a perfectly cauterized stump where the skull used to reside.

"I really must try that again," Snape said with amusement. "Not a drop spilled."

Setting the head to the side, he removed Bill's clothes and began etching hieroglyphs onto the freckled wizard's body until the skin looked like the wall of an ancient Egyptian tomb. Murmuring, he transfigured the body into a small statue that was promptly placed on the mantelpiece above the fire. Stepping back, he tilted his head and studied it. The lighting was perfect and it brought out the Coptic Sanskrit stamped on Weasley's frame.

"He's pretty," Luna observed over his shoulder. "And that glyph over his genitals says, 'large'." Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. "But I don't think that's right. He's quite mediocre if you ask me."

"Done already?" Severus asked his mate's companion. "Did she put up a fight?"

The tiny blonde laughed. "Hardly. We just shoved her into the plant. We found out the reason it smelled like a corpse was because that was what it was full of."

"Clever girl." He dangled Bill's head from the ponytail. "For your mistress."

"Now, that's some beautiful hair!" Taking it, Luna Apparated away to find Hermione.

Several nights later, after all the Weasleys had been dealt with, Snape was able to relax for the first time in his life, or unlife. Charlie and Luna had firmly established their relationship with a series of raucous and vocal shags in their chamber, and he didn't have the heart to reprimand the boy, admitting only to himself that he might be growing soft in his old age. Wait. He would remain this age forever, never growing older. Tucking that thought away, he just grumbled about his disrespectful minion and went in search of his mate.

They had just received word from Shacklebolt that in a month's time a meeting would be arranged to determine the viability of the vampire cause. If he knew Hermione, there would be nothing to stop her from succeeding in her goals, and he expected her to present a great deal of long-winded speeches and an excessive amount of documentation in the near future. His mate never did anything by halves.

Severus walked towards their sitting room but stopped when he discovered Hermione humming to herself, a sharp-looking, large needle with dark thread in her right hand. She was working away at the bundle of material in her lap, as if she'd been sewing all her life.

Pierce, push, pull and repeat. Pierce, push, pull and repeat.

He leaned against the doorway, just watching her work methodically until, with a final pull, she made a double-loop knot, bent her head, and neatly bit above the securing tie-off.

"There! That should do it," she said to herself, her lips forming a supreme smile of self-satisfaction at her handiwork.

"And what exactly is it you have created, my dear?"

"This—" she looked up at him, unsurprised he'd been standing there "—is the fruit of our labours, the final product. Our magnum opus, if you will." Standing proudly, she shook out the ginger-coloured mass and held it high to show him. "Do you like it?"

His face twisted into a horrible sneer. "It's positively ghastly."

"Perfect," she chirped in reply to his foul judgement. Walking over to the fireplace, she spread it out carefully before the hearth, vanished her clothes, and turned to give her mate a saucy wink and a come-hither motion with the fingers of her left hand. "Care to test it out?"

His sneer turned wicked, a gleam flashing dangerously behind his eyes. "Absolutely."

Sometime later, the lovers were curled against each other, relishing the peaceful atmosphere as they stared into the fire, their hands idly moving over one another.

"Hermione?"

"Mmmh?"

He trailed his fingers over her navel, smirking when she chuckled somewhat. "I was thinking about having Lucius Malfoy for dinner. What do you think?"

She stretched and wiggled until her bum was lined up with his renewed erection. "Sounds positively decadent."

"Glad you agree." He manoeuvred her leg back over his hips, opening her wide for his exploration. "I owe him." He buried himself in her wet core. "He could have warned me."

"Evil Malfoy," she muttered under her breath, moving with him as they gently rocked against each other's bodies.

"Yes." He hissed, quickening his pace, slapping his pelvis against her fleshy arse.

She clutched his leg and rode out her orgasm, crying his name and whimpering when he ground out his yell and flooded her with his seed. Their breathing regulated, she smirked to herself. "We could make another rug—a blond one this time."

Snickering, Severus nuzzled the claim mark on her neck. "A sight more tolerable than this one."

She reached around and pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you."

He would never tire of hearing it, as clichéd as it sounded. "And I you… always."

That sounded about long enough.