"Mum! Dad! I'm going to the library!" she called upstairs, already halfway out the front door.

"But, Hermione, it's so late," her mother said, coming down the stairs.

"Mum, the sun hasn't even set yet."

"Yes, and knowing you, you won't be home until well after. You'll miss supper."

"I'll eat on the way back. I promise I won't be home late."

She made her way down the stone pathway and began the familiar trek to the library. She had gone so many times before; she could have gotten there with her eyes closed.

With only a little over a week to go before the start of her last year at Hogwarts, she figured she had better look up the information that she had promised her Muggle Studies professor she would. After all, she wouldn't be a very good assistant professor if she showed up to the first class empty handed.

Ten minutes later, she found herself pushing open the doors of the library enthusiastically. She loved the smell of all the books and the seriousness of the atmosphere. Gathering several tomes almost at once, she found herself a seat at a large, empty table where she could spread them all out.

She dove into the first one and within the hour she had finished all the relevant parts of the book. Glancing up to give her eyes a well needed rest, she watched the very last of the sun set. She also couldn't help but notice the young man that had just walked in. He looked right at her and she flushed terribly when he started to walk her way.

"Would you mind if I sat here? Everywhere else is full," he asked in polite whisper.

She looked around and indeed saw that all of the smaller tables around where occupied.

"If you actually need all this room, I can go somewhere else," he continued in a voice as charming as his face.

"No, it's alright," she said finally and moved several books onto the chair next to her to make some room.

"Thank you," he said with a small nod as he put his bag down. "If you'll excuse me a minute, I'll be right back."

As he walked over to a nearby shelf, she took in his appearance. He was in his early to mid twenties and had short black hair that was almost as dark as Harry's but much neater. He was taller than Ron with eyes a piercing mix of blue and grey and his skin was milky white with no visible traces of any imperfections. He looked very professional in his black slacks and dark grey turtle neck.

She quickly looked back down at her book she saw him turn to come back. She looked up when she heard him sit back down. He had brought back with him a very thick book and had already turned to the middle of it and begun to read. He looked up to find her staring quizzically at him.

"How rude of me. Here I am taking up all your space and I can't even introduce myself properly. Marcus Wynston."

He offered his hand over the table for her to shake. She vaguely thought his name sounded familiar, like she had read about it somewhere, as she took his hand and answered, "Hermione Granger."

"Hermione? What a beautiful name. It's fitting," he said smiling.

She blushed again. "Thank you."

"So what brings you to this wonderful establishment tonight?" he said gesturing around him.

"I'm looking up information on the persecution of women during the witch craze in Europe. I've already finished the Maleus Malificarum and I've just started on this one," she said nudging the book that now lay closed in front of her.

"Ah, yes, The Witch's Hammer. I've read it myself a few times. Fascinating reading. But I am afraid that my book is far more interesting."

He closed the book he had been reading and turned it so the cover faced her. The battered old book was titled Vampires Through the Ages.

"You believe in vampires," she asked skeptically, with a hint of surprise also present in her whisper.

"Certainly. Don't you?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. The truth was that yes, she obviously believed in them, having learned about them in school. However, she didn't want to reveal her status as a witch to someone she had just met, especially if that someone was just a curious muggle, but she found him mysterious and intellectual and she found herself wanting to continue their conversation.

"If you don't want to be overheard, there is a delightful café down the street where we could continue our potential debate. Tea's on me."

"Café St. Laurent?" she asked bemused. The café was a very small and intimate spot wedged between two larger and more popular beverage places, she was surprised he even knew about it.

"That's the one."

She still had a couple of hours before she had planned on being home and there was just something about him that she couldn't quite get her head around. Then Harry's voice drifted into her head "Don't be afraid to take a chance, Hermione. Have fun every once in a while."

"Alright. Let's go then."

The returned their books to their respective locations and left the library together. It was a clear night and all the stars were out. She glanced up every once in a while to sneak a peek at her favorite constellations. She thought she might feel awkward walking next to Marcus, a person…man, she hardly knew, but they walked along in comfortable silence until they reached the café, where they found a small table in a corner, away from everyone else.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" asked the curly haired waitress.

"I'll have a green tea, please," Marcus ordered.

"And I'll have a hot chocolate."

"Certainly. I'll be right back."

"So you really believe in vampires?" Hermione asked as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.

"I really do," he replied, perfect white teeth shining inside his mouth.

"Can I ask why?"

At this point the waitress had returned with there drinks. He waited until she had gone to answer. "It's simple. I know one."

She didn't know what she had been expecting, but that had not been it. Her eyes lit up with excitement. Naturally she had read all about them and learned about them in class, but here was her chance to find out about them first hand!

"How do you know him or her? Are they very old? What sorts of powers do they have?" she rattled off before she could stop herself.

Marcus smiled widely before asking, "How old are you, Hermione?"

She thought it an odd question but answered anyway. "I'll be 18 next month. Why?"

"I've just never seen a young person this passionate about anything. I must say it's refreshing." She said nothing and he continued. "He is a close friend of mine. He was turned when he was 25, but that was 50 years ago so technically he is 75. I assure you, he looks very good for his age. As far as powers are concerned, he's rather lucky, I suppose. He can be quite stealthy when he likes and he can fly. I'm very jealous about that particular one. He can also be very…persuasive."

"That's amazing. But how do you know him? Why didn't he try to kill you or turn you?"

"Honestly, I haven't the slightest idea," he chuckled. "I like to tell myself that he finds me somewhat amusing and that he likes having someone to talk to, but I supposed I serve as his eyes during the day as well."

She nodded. "Does he really need to drink blood to survive? I'm sure that sounds like a stupid question, but what would happen if he just ate regular food?"

"He would die," Marcus said simply. "He needs blood to survive. Fortunately, animal's blood serves the same purpose. Unfortunately, human blood is far more satisfying."

"Has he killed many people?" she asked frowning. The severity of what they were talking about seemed to hit her all at once and she suddenly felt terrible.

Marcus eyed her thoughtfully. "That frown looks so out of place there." He reached over the small table, touched a finger to the corner of her lips and tugged upward slightly, forcing her mouth into a sort of half, lopsided smile.

His finger was cold on her mouth and when he pulled it away, the skin he had touched tingled slightly. "When he was first turned, he couldn't control the impulses. He has a handle on them now." He looked into her eyes and she froze a little. "You're unhappy," he stated.

"I want to meet him?" she asked, feeling as though it wasn't really herself asking.

"Why?" he asked in a tone that suggested he didn't really care what the answer was.

"I want to meet him," she said again, unable to break eye contact. It was like he was looking into her soul and if she looked away for just a second, she would lose everything.

"Meet me behind the library in 15 minutes," he whispered into her ear, as he leaned across the small table.

She blinked and he was gone. Shaking her head slightly, she looked around and took in her surroundings. She was in the café, mug of hot chocolate still smoking slightly.

"Excuse me," she called to the curly haired waitress. "Did I pay you yet?"

"Your gentleman friend took care of it about 10 minutes ago. Have a good night miss."

Something wasn't right and she was going to find out what. She walked back to the library, wand concealed in her pocket. It was very dark out now and she had half a mind to turn around and just go home, but the curiosity was killing her and at the same time she just felt drawn to him.

She reached the back of the library and slowed down. The parking lot was now completely empty. Hearing a soft rustle of wind behind her, she whipped around to find Marcus smiling at her.

"You came."

Her grip tightened around her wand. "Of course I did," she said, annoyance evident in her voice. She didn't like being snuck up on. "Where's your friend?" she asked squinting around the parking lot.

"You're looking at him," Marcus answered, taking a step forward.

At once she drew her wand and pointed it at his chest. "Don't come any closer," she threatened.

"You're a witch. I knew there was something special about you since the first time I saw you 3 months ago."

His eyes seemed to glow in the dark and she found her head becoming foggy. "W-what do you mean 3 months ago?" she asked shaking her head slightly.

She tried to look away but she was transfixed. Her wand arm lowered of its own accord and Marcus took another step forward. "For 50 years I have been searching for someone, anyone who had a passion for life as I once did when I was alive. Someone to share that passion with me now in death. Someone like you, Hermione. You're passionate, beautiful, brilliant. Just what I've been looking for."

Her wand was on the ground yet she had no memory of dropping it. They were nose to nose now.

"I don't want to die," she whispered into the night air.

He was behind her. He held her close with one arm around her midriff while the other stroked her hair off of her shoulder.

"It only hurts for a second," he lied.

A jumble of spells and jinxes raced through her brain but she was powerless. She felt his breath on her neck before the piercing pain set in. She didn't feel her feet leave the ground as they floated upwards, disappearing into the clouds. What she did feel was every second of her life as it was being drained from her. She felt herself getting weaker and weaker. In the far distance, she heard a voice telling her to drink. She seemed to have lost her vision but felt something being pressed against her lips. She obliged by opening her mouth and a thick, warm substance coated her throat. It raced through every inch of her body and re-energized her. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought for sure it would break her chest. She cried out in pain and before it became unbearable…it stopped.

Slowly her senses came back to her. She was surrounded by silk sheets. When she finally opened her eyes she saw the canopy she now lay under. She lifted her head gingerly, expecting it to hurt and was surprised when it didn't. She sat up and looked around. She was in what appeared to be an ancient looking castle room. Then, she spotted him in the corner.

"Welcome back," he said standing.

"Where am I? And why do I feel so-"

"Alive?" he interjected. "Ironic, isn't it? That you can feel more now than when you were alive."

"I'm…what did you do to me?" she was surprised to hear a small growl in her own voice.

"I saved you from your ordinary life," he said looking slightly hurt.

"I was happy," she retorted, stalking towards him. She was unusually aware of her surroundings. Waves crashed on distant rocks just outside of the windows and a light breeze seemed to carry whispers through the air. As she walked towards him she also noticed the complete lack of sound that surrounded him. No heart beat, no breath…nothing.

"You'll still be happy. With me," he said calmly.

She was standing right in front of him now. "You've ruined my life," she snarled. She reached her hand out in a flash and had his throat in an unnaturally firm grip. "This was my last year of school! I was going to be Head Girl and a professor when I graduated!"

Marcus merely chuckled and looked to his left. On the wall hung a very ornate, full length mirror. She followed his gaze and was so shocked by what she saw, she let her grip go immediately.

Instead of seeing Marcus standing next to her, what was reflected in the mirror was nearly unrecognizable. For starters, Marcus had no reflection. She just saw a faded reflection of a very different Hermione. Her hair was no longer the frizzy mess it once was. Instead, perfect ringlets now covered every inch of her head. Her skin was very pale, almost translucent except for the dark circles under her eyes that made it look as if she was wearing make-up, and her eyes seemed to have gotten darker as well.

Her mouth opened in surprise and closed just as quickly when she saw two particularly long and sharp teeth settled neatly in her mouth. A thought crossed her mind, but before it could fully materialize, her reflection faded.

"You like it, don't you?" Marcus asked. He was standing behind her again. "I know what you're thinking…even if you don't. My blood is in your veins now. You are mine."

She turned to face him. "I belong to no one," she said and pushed him backward. To her surprise, he sailed across the room and landed on the bed.

"There is so much I can teach you, so much you need to know," he said getting up.

"There was still so much I could have learned in school," she snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Hermione, all I want is your happiness. And if that means you finishing school then so be it."

He wrapped his arms around her and she stiffened slightly before reluctantly returning the hug. She remembered how a hug use to feel, two hearts beating together. This was empty…she was empty.

"Let me fill that void for you," Marcus whispered.

She looked into his eyes and saw a storm of mixed emotions. Anger, confusion, regret.

"Take me home," she requested.

He said nothing but simply took her hand and led her to the window. Normally, she would have been petrified, but the cold wind rushing against her face was exhilarating. Had she still had a heart beat, it would have been racing. She looked at Marcus, smiled, and thought that perhaps things could have been worse. She felt his anger ebb away as they jumped and began to sail back to where they had come from.

They arrived back at the library much quicker than she had expected.

"How long have I been gone?" she asked.

"Two days."

"My parents must be worried sick," she stated, annoyance obvious in her voice as she turned to start walking home. She could feel that he wasn't following. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be around. You'll know how to find me if you need me. Stay out of the sun," he cautioned, "and if you need to feed, come find me."

He kissed her forehead lightly before disappearing into the velvet sky once again.

As she walked home, she thought about what she would tell her parents, but her senses kept interrupting her. Every breeze that blew carried a voice and a smell with it. Every leaf that fell from a tree, she felt. And when she reached the front door of her house, she could smell that her parents were not alone. She knew she didn't want to go in through the front door, so she went around the back of the house, scaled the side of the wall with ease, and climbed in through her bedroom window. Everything was how she had left it. Even with the door closed, she could hear the worried voices from downstairs. She found she didn't have to try and be quiet, she could move effortlessly around without making a sound. She settled herself at the top of the stairs and listened.

"I believe if Voldemort was involved we would have heard something by now," Dumbledore's voice floated up the stairs to her.

"But it's been two days. What could have happened? You don't think she's-"

"We have to stay positive, dear," he father said, trying to calm his hysteric wife.

She found that her parents' distraught voices didn't tug at her heart like she thought they would. She was indifferent and yet it bothered her. She was at the foot of the stairs when she cleared her throat.

Her parents nearly fell out of their chairs but Dumbledore simply surveyed her carefully.

"Hermione!" her mother yelled and made to run towards her, but Dumbledore blocked her path.

"Not just yet, Mrs. Granger. I am afraid this isn't the daughter you once knew."