A/N: After a long time struggling with writer's block, I finally managed to get this story out. This isn't all to the story, there will be more. It would just take me some time to write it all out. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic.

I'm using a mix of the books and TV show canon.

Diana huffed in irritation. The step stool in the Bodleian was never there when it was needed. Her eyes drifted back up to Notes and Queries, sitting in a bookshelf out of reach. She debated with herself for a moment - go searching for the stool, or just use magic to retrieve the book?

If she searched for the step stool, it could take her as much as fifteen minutes to find it. On the other hand, she didn't want to break the rules she set for herself - especially not after what had happened on Friday. If she used magic this would make the fifth time this year. Considering it was September, it wasn't a bad record for the year, but it wasn't her personal best either.

Glancing furtively around the library to make sure that no one was watching, she took a deep breath held out her hand and imagined the book within it. Things didn't happen as she expected. The book shot out from the shelf, went over the railing, only to be caught by the man who was walking below. He looked up and saw her. The ice she felt on her skin confirmed her fears - the man was a vampire. Was it just her, or did she imagine the way his eyes widened briefly when they looked at each other?

"Yours, I believe," he said.

She slowly made her way down the steps, forcing herself to calm down. The vampire was flipping through the pages of the book, shutting it close when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She must have been imagining the glint of happiness in his eyes as she approached him. He leaned forward slightly and sniffed. Wait, was he smelling her? Was that normal vampire behaviour?

As she reached out her hand for the book, the vampire spotted the burn on her hand.

"That's a nasty burn," he observed. "You need to take better care of it." Was there actual concern in his voice? Why was he so concerned over a woman he just met?

"You're a vampire," was all she was able to say, taking the book from him.

There was a small smile on his face as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card.

"Professor Matthew Clairmont, biochemistry," she read.

"Dr Bishop," he said. "I'm a great admirer of your work."

Her eyes widened. While not impossible that a professor of biochemistry would be interested in seventeenth-century alchemy, it was highly unlikely. She was very aware of the fact that for the moment, they were the only two people in the library.

"I found your article on the colour symbolism of alchemical transformations fascinating, and your work on Robert Boyle's approach to the problems of expansion and contraction was quite persuasive. I've not yet finished your latest book on alchemical apprenticeship and education, but I'm enjoying it a great deal."

"Thank you," she managed to whisper.

"You have a marvellous way of evoking the past for your readers," he added.

Diana bit her lip, wondering what to say next. How does one even politely bow out of a conversation with a vampire?

"Might I buy you dinner?" he asked. His eyes widened briefly, as if he was shocked that he had said something like that. The flash was so brief that Diana wasn't sure if she had actually seen it, or she had just imagined it.

Her mouth dropped open. Dinner? What would dinner with a vampire even involve? Could vampires even eat?

"I have plans," she said abruptly, not specifying what those plans were. Well, she did have to get started on her paper for the conference, and with the date looming closer, she really needed to get back to work.

"That's too bad," he said. He seemed genuinely disappointing by her answer. The longer the conversation went on, the more Diana felt that she was missing some important background. But what could it be?

"Another time, perhaps," said Dr Clairmont. "You are in Oxford for the year, aren't you?"

Diana nodded. She couldn't do any more than that. Being around this vampire was unnerving.

"I thought so," he said. "I'm sure our paths will cross again. Oxford is such a small town."

"Very small," she agreed. Why couldn't she have taken leave in London instead?

"Until then, Dr Bishop. It has been a pleasure." He extended his hand.

Diana reached out hesitantly and clasped her hand to his for a moment. There was a fleeting pleasure before he withdrew. He stepped backward, smiled and then disappeared into the darkness of the oldest part of the library.

Diana laid Notes and Queries down on the table, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. What had happened? She shook her head. There was no way she could focus on her work now. Sighing, she packed her stuff and headed back to her rooms.

Matthew couldn't believe what had happened. He had come to the Bodleian, looking for answers to the pulse of energy he had left a few days ago, so certain that he would find clues to who had found Ashmole 782. What he hadn't expected was to run into Diana.

Considering the shock he just received, he thought that he hadn't bungled the meeting too badly. Although in hindsight, he shouldn't have creepily sniffed at her. Or suggested dinner. He had no idea why those words had even come out of his mouth.

No, that was a lie. He knew why. He had waited so long for her, had ached so much for her presence. All he wanted to do was to spend time with her. Even if she would never return his affections, at least he would be able to bask in her presence. He closed his eyes and indulged in the memory of her sweet scent. It was just like he remembered - honey and hope.

Well, at least he hoped that he hadn't scared her off too badly.

Matthew had been monitoring Diana's heartbeat throughout the conversation. While it had ticked up on a few occasions, it never went to the speed of full-blown panic.

He was certain that Diana was the one who had called up and opened Ashmole 782. For who else could have managed such a feat?

Matthew pulled out his phone and dialled a familiar number. "Maman?" he said when his mother answered. "I found her. I found Diana Bishop."

Over his mother's exclamations of delight, Matthew added, "And she is the one who found Ashmole 782. She is the one who opened it. Everything begins now."

"Yes it does Matthew," she said. "You know what you need to do, don't you? Protect her. She will need it, especially at this early stage."

"I will," he promised. "You have my word on that."

In just a few minutes, all of the de Clermonts received the very same message.

The Huntress has come into play.

It begins with a discovery of witches.