A/N: Sometimes you think of two characters from different fandoms and realise that they would be perfect together. In this case, I was thinking of Bellatrix (who is, alongside Severus Snape, one of the only reasons that the Harry Potter fandom is worth writing for) and trying to decide which characters would be good to pair her with. I discarded the other women from her own fandom and moved on to sexy-insane female characters from other fandoms. That's when it occurred to me that OMG, Bella and Dru as vampire lovers would totally kick ass!

So this is part one of a gothic-erotic WIP. It will contain femmeslash and blood and probably bondage and I'm not forcing you to read. This chapter is safe, but others will not be. Feedback will be welcomed like a lost puppy in a snowstorm and flamers will be covered in chocolate and thrown to the lesbian vampires.

The light drizzle that fell from the dreary grey clouds above made a hissing noise as it bounced of the pavement. This kind of weather, although less exciting than thunder and hailstorms, had much the same effect over the long term. It soaked into your soul, making your life more and more miserable the longer you lived in this godforsaken place. The perfect setting for a creature of the night looking for a bite to eat.

Not many people dared venture out in this part of town at night. The rest of the world may have lost its fear of the dark, but not much had changed here in the past hundred years or so. Tales of what lurked in the night had been passed down, and the odd disappearance or two helped keep people safe and sound in their homes, tucked up nice and warm in bed where Dru couldn't get to them.

But this didn't mean the streets were completely dead. A vampire who knew her game would never starve here. Take the woman she was stalking for example. Pretty, dark haired woman in her late twenties, early thirties. Probably not a whore – too classy for that, too old to still be in the game. Visiting a gentleman friend, no doubt, bold enough to brave the dangers she faced walking the streets alone at night.

Should've stayed at home, curled up on the sofa with a mug of warm cocoa. Making little enough sound that she could've crept up on a cat, Dru took a shortcut that would place her a little ahead of the woman's path and slipped into an alleyway, giggling to herself at the brilliance of her ambush. The look on her prey's face would be delicious as she sunk her fangs into the warm, soft neck. Blood was all the sweeter for being a little matured.

--xxXxx--

Rain. How often had she stared out of her cell in Azkaban, wishing to feel the rain on her face? It had been a dark and stormy night when the Dark Lord had orchestrated her escape, and she had laughed out loud into the downpour that had cascaded down her face, soaking her to the bone and making her feel more alive than she'd felt in years.

Since then, Bellatrix had lost her appreciation for nature's insistence on pissing on her every chance it got. This wasn't even proper rain – when you stepped outside you'd get a few annoying spots here and there and think nothing of it, but soon you'd be completely drenched and wishing you'd never left the house to begin with. There wasn't a part of her that didn't feel as cold as her master's presence in her mind, probing her thoughts as her had done on several occasions.

And what's worse, she was being followed. Again. The last time this had happened, a startled vampire had ended up face down in the gutter and not woken in time to escape the sun. When would they learn not to target her? This was going to take up valuable time and she'd be late for the meeting. The Dark Lord was not appreciative of tardiness.

Stopping in her tracks, she called out to the creature in the alleyway. "I know you're there. Come out, come out, whatever you are."

Surprisingly, there was no response. In her experience, vampires were stupid vermin who never missed a chance to leap out dramatically and bare their fangs, giving you every opportunity to draw your wand and hex them. Placing her hands on her hips, she tried again. "I could count to three, but I expect you know better games we can play."

Still nothing. Against her better judgement, Bellatrix took a couple of steps forward and, drawing out her wand, muttered "lumos" under her breath.

--xxXxx--

Pouting, Dru watched the human from her vantage point on the roof. She'd been standing there, all ready to pounce, and the brazen wench had the cheek to call out to her. Spoiled her entrance and all, so there'd been nothing for it but to climb up onto the shingles and see what the bitch would do next. That had been interesting, to say the least. Drusilla had come across witches before, and they all had a distinct smell, one that could only be detected by those with the right kind of nose. The Slayer's redhead friend was strawberries, fresh and newly picked – just right for eating. This woman smelled just like any other human – hormones and pheromones and pulsing, pounding blood.

Must be a charm then, something magickal to stop every supernatural being in town from tracking her down. In Dru's opinion, that was no better than cheating. After all, she'd nearly tried to take a bite out of the witch, and she was sane enough to know that snacking on witches lead to a dusting.

Witchy lady gave the alleyway a once-over (empty crisp packets, a few dropped coins, one used condom) and put her wand away before sauntering off to wherever it was she was going. Dru knew the smart thing to do was to go off and find some pretty young thing for her dinner, but she'd gone far enough beyond the border of sanity to want to follow Witchy and see what business she had wandering the streets past midnight. It'd been years since she'd tasted the blood of a Wiccan, and she bet this one was spicy and full of flavour.

Not only that… she'd seen something in the witch's eyes as she searched the alleyway, a wide-eyed childishness that mirrored her own insanity. The only contact she'd had with her own race recently had been brief run-ins with younger, stupider specimens who'd never be able to tell the difference between a Slayer and a kitten. If she'd finally found a kindred spirit, Drusilla wasn't about to turn around and give up on the chase this early in the night. Where would be the fun in that?

Besides, it wasn't like she was going to let herself get caught.