AN: Hello there! We're two authors, trying to write the story of two Original Characters in the Harry Potter verse. Our setting is 2010, so already some time has passed after the defeat of Voldemort. We're only using the Universe as a setting, thus Canon Characters will only be mentioned a couple of times, if at all. The story is about Seraphinus Aterlucis (DADA Professor at Hogwarts at the time and also a vampire) and one of his Slytherin students – Anne De la Croix and how there peculiar relationship starts. The POV changes throughout the story so that you'll get to see how both of the characters react to things.

Disclaimer: We do not own the universe! It belongs to JKR. However we do own our characters.

Chapter One

A thick, chocking cloud of mist descended upon Knockturn Alley swallowing up buildings and people alike, just as the sun was taking it's leave, yet again, from this forsaken place. The fog looked particularly lively and jaunty this evening - more like a living, breathing thing, swiftly spreading it's tentacles as far as they would reach, shielding it's beating heart from the rest of the world - it was like the infamous alley had a spirit of it's own, an entity bound on protecting all the corruption and misdeeds that surfaced, every time, with the darkness.

Seraphinus smiled to himself as he considered this, slowly making his way through the dim, stygian landscape, with nothing but the much too loud sound of his footsteps for company. It was for the best in the end; sun didn't suit this place, nor did the light, laughter, smiles or joyous crowds that accompanied the bright and boisterous Diagon Alley. No, this was a place of secrecy, despair and misery and that suited the young man just fine.

He didn't like happy people – never had. Well, at least hadn't had for many, many years - enough that it made it seem like forever. Happy people were all the same – the same reasons, reactions and demeanors – a poorly written, slushy novel; a boring act that would play out over and over again, different actors and settings, same subject and end result. If you thought about it, it was really very depressing.

Miserable people … well, miserable people were an entirely different problem and situation. They were … unique. The way they all suffered and endured - it was interesting, diversified and colorful - for even though we all rejoice pretty much in the same fashion, we all have particular approaches when coping with our pain. Some take revenge, some simply endure, some go mad, some become better and some become worse – the possibilities were endless. In the young professor's opinion, life was a generally created, socially accepted, common heaven – much like the market square of a village – and a multitude of specially customized hells – kind off like your own particular brand of alcohol. For one, Seraphinus enjoyed the misery and despair in other people and he enjoyed his particular hell, perhaps a little too much – if he'd ever be bother trying to classify himself as anything, he might have been one from the 'become worse' category.

The Hogwarts professor continued strolling down the alley, absentmindedly gazing at his surroundings, keeping himself straight, tall and proud as he passed the random beatdown witch or wizard – dirty, defeated, pathetic little things that they were, reeking of things he would rather not even consider, with their tired, beady eyes and contorted features, foul breath and inviting hands, trying to get him to buy something, anything, trying to make him spend his coin in their weather-beaten excuse of a shop. Just like stupid, mangy rats, hurriedly trying to entail the cat in. Didn't they realized they would only get eaten in the end?

He choose to ignore them and continue his walk – glaring menacingly at whomever dared come too close - least he wanted to somehow get infected with their disease and worthlessness. He always enjoyed his late walks through Knockturn Alley. More so than anything else, being here, amongst the insignificant insects made him sharply aware of his position and importance, of his greatness and their lowliness – of the powerfully drawn out contrast.

This evening however, his walk was about more than mere enjoyment; and he was painfully reminded of the fact every time his hunger stirred and mouth started to water when one of the lowlifes of the wizarding world dared draw too near. He would find a lonely, sad excuse of a being with an equally sad story somewhere out of the way eventually, Knockturn Alley was full of them. It was like a heaven for the washed out and the unimportant, the ones that wanted to drink and waste their life away, that practically screamed for release from the pain of living, as much as it was a heaven for the powerful that preyed upon such things – it really was strangely funny and ironic how those things worked out. In the end, they all got what they were after and tonight, he would be more than happy to oblige someone else's wishes.

He smiled again – a cruel, wicked, sinister thing that should really not be considered a smile at all, not even a sneer, it was something else all together, something that, if not for the dim light, would send most people running.

Maybe a beggar or a failed drunk … someone no one would ever miss, someone no one would even notice gone. He would have to wait for a while still, he would have to wait for the night to comfortably settle in so that only the stray, lost and very pathetic would walk the street. He would have to wait … and wait he shall.

(***)

The sun was setting down over Diagon Alley, its last rays reflecting from the windows of the small shops. The shadows between the buildings were growing heavier and some of the shop owners started closing down their businesses for the day. The shutters were up, the doors locked and the proprietors were heading home. The late shoppers were hurriedly finishing up, aware of the falling night. The Leaky Cauldron would be full now – witches and wizards searching for company and a drink after work, as well as some relieve from their daily worries and stress.

A mist was settling down, a sure sign that the night would be cold and unpleasant. No proper, responsible citizen would be out and about tonight. There were families and homes to return to, dinner to be served and enjoyed, stories to be told and conversations to be had; and even if it was almost summer there would be fires roaring in the fireplaces, for there was a sense of security that a fire brought which was needed in these darker hours.

A small blond exited Fortescue's parlour which was about to close as well, and headed down the streat in the opposite direction of the Alley's exit. Her pace was slow and delibarate and despite having a certain destination to reach she wasn't in a hurry to get there. Anne had spent the entire day out in the wizarding shopping district, pretending there was no Hogwarts to return to, no term to end and exams to be had, no conflict which would probably soon be resolved, coming to an end of an uncertain nature.

She had flown from shop to shop, exiting as quickly as entering. She had tried and tasted everything she liked, bought everything she wanted, looked for places she hadn't visited before and conversed with strangers, trying to find someone who could catch her interest and keep her attention for more than a second. The girl was insatiable. She wanted more, needed more – to see, to experience, to have, to feel. She wanted it all and she wanted it now – right this instant if possible. The young blond wanted to live, wanted to find the way of existance with the most meaning for her, the one which could bring the most satisfaction.

Anne wanted to find something which could make her feel. She was looking for an emotion which could shake her to her very core, memorable and lasting, unlike the fleeting specks of feelings that were the daily experiences. The girl wanted something which would have a meaning and wouldn't release its hold over her quickly or easily. Whether it be fear, excitement, happiness or anger it didn't matter. What was important was its intensity and the effect it would have over her. The young Slytherin didn't know if such thing existed, she didn't even know why she wanted to find out. The only thing clear and certain in her mind was that she couldn't stand still; the current day to day life in Hogwarts and ordinary happenings couldn't satisfy or excite her; the only way for her to feel content was to go out and find that experience which would matter. So she did.

The day so far had been slightly disappointing. The blond had fun, she always did, but she had still to find the thing that was missing. But there was one other place she had to visit. The heels of her shoes clacked on the cobblestone, the sound slightly muffled by the mist that was creeping around the corners and by the walls of the buildings. Here it had a sickly dirty color and a certain unpleasant smell to it. Standing at the opening of Knockturn Alley the girl glanced down the road trying to decide which her first stop would be.

Little droplets clung to her cloak and Anne was grateful that she had thought to bring the garment with her from the castle. She would stand out: her golden blond hair, the light blue summer dress and the cloak in a darker shade of blue were sure to be noticeable, contrasting with the colorless, dirty clothes of the Alley's usual inhabitants… but that was the plan. Nothing happened to those who were invisible: neither bad, nor good.

Lifting her chin and straightening her back Anne moved down the street, keeping her pace slow. Here everything was still open, no doubt the owners trying to get as much profit as possible, not risking to lose a single possible customer. However the mostly dirty shop windows and the slightly daunting displays didn't inspire a desire to enter and browse the merchandise. For now the blond decided to keep to the street and study those she could only guess were regular visitors.

Haunted eyes, unsteady steps, drawn faces void of any expression were typical for the people currently surrounding her. Anne looked at them and studied them with an indifference, which didn't seem right for what she was faced with and yet she couldn't seem to be able to replace it with any other feeling. She didn't know them, they didn't matter and it seemed they wouldn't be of any interest thus of no use to her. She could feel their eyes following her, heavy and suspicious. She was a girl, she was just sixteen and she knew she should be scared here, surrounded by those strangers who could turn out to be much more dangerous than their appearance could suggest. She should be scared and yet…she wasn't; she was bored.

It was then that she noticed him, easily even through the mist, walking on the other side of the street in a direction opposite of hers. There was pride to his stance and a certain deliberateness to his step. It was clear he wasn't a part of this gloomy, shady place. And yet Anne couldn't bring herself to feel anything but distaste at meeting Seraphinus Aterlucis here. The young man was frankly annoying, untrustworthy, suspicious, dangerous and… well, slightly interesting. And it would probably be great fun to ruin his evening at least a little bit. Scratch the probably.

An idea quickly formed in her head and a mischievous smirk appeared on her lips. She skillfully transformed it into a goofy grin and raised her arms, waving them over her head. "Professor Aterlucis! PROFESSOR ATERLUUUUCIIIIIS!," Anne shouted, making sure it was as loud and shrill as possible. People on the street started turning their heads around to see what the commotion was about, and with a sense of satisfaction the girl carried on even louder. "SERAPHINUS ATERLUCIS! Sir! Don't pretend you don't know me! It's Anne De la Croix! From your fifth year Slytherin class!"

That said…or screamed… Anne was satisfied enough with the noise she had made and rushed across the street. Without stopping she made a small leap, leaving her inertia to carry her. The point was to take him by surprise and hopefully knock him off balance. The blond threw herself right on the man, locking her arms around his neck, foolish grin returning to a small smirk with a slightly evil air to it.

(***)

As the last remnants of light faded, taking with them all colors and sounds, so did Seraphinus' inhibitions and cares. Every new tick of the clock worked to soothe the young man's concerns, making him feel more alive, more powerful and more aware of everything and everyone. It was a rather surreal experience – he was wide awake and still, only just now he did he felt like waking. It was like he had been sleep-walking the entire day, and only with the sun did the blurry, dream-like quality of the passing events leave his eyes, clearing his mind and sharpening his senses.

He smiled a little at this, continuing his stroll, already feeling invigorated and so much better. For a few moments the young man contemplated the possibility of leaving the school of magic and wizardry behind and finding himself another position – maybe something in the ministry, something that would not require him being awake during the day, or working with children – but he quickly dismissed the thought.

A job in the ministry would be all well and good, the promise of money, status and power sounding pleasantly sweet and compelling to the ambitious man, but it would only go up to the point where people would start regarding him and his way of life with suspicion and concern. The fact that the Ministry was filled with narrow-minded, barbaric and obsolete mentalities was well known, as was the presence of numerous hunters that walked his halls. No, it was better that he remained here, at Hogwarts, in his humble teaching position … at least for the moment.

So distracted had the young professor been with his own mussing and plans that he hadn't even noticed leaving the cover and general emptiness of the less walked parts of Knockturn Alley for one of it's more 'lively' areas. No matter, it was all for the best, for he found himself now just outside of the rather famous, or more like infamous, 'Borgin & Burkes' and from what he could tell by gazing through dusty, diry the windows the shop-keeper had recently received and interesting new lot of jewelry, one amongst all the rest really caught his eye – it was silver necklace with what looked like an artistically shaped vial as it's pendant. The vial looked as if holding poison or some other greenish looking liquid, in some cases, blood, or something the like, in other cases and, for his own reasons, Seraphinus found the act of buying and wearing such an adornment highly ironical and amusing.

With a small smile on his face, the man stopped for a second to better glance at the piece of jewelry and to decide if he were to grace the shop-keeper with his presence this evening.

That was when he first heard it.

"Professor Aterlucis! PROFESSOR ATERLUUUUCIIIIIS!" shriked the banshee in a shrill, high voice – loud enough to fill the entire bloody street, loud enough to make his ears ring and his head hurt.

With a deep frown on his face and an almost unnoticeable turn of the head, Seraphinus gazed towards his right, across the street, in the direction from witch the sound had been coming a few moments ago. His shoulders tightened a little as his entire vision was instantly filled with a flurry mass of blue and golden yellow, waving around desperately and ungracefully, as if it's life depended on it. The young man couldn't help but observe this strange, unworldly apparition for a moment, transfixed and entirely disgusted by the display unfolding before his very eyes – was it jumping up and down a little as well? He really couldn't tell, with all the dizzying, absurd motion the shape was subjecting itself and, in consequence himself, to.

The young professor closed his eyes for a second, deciding to do his very best to ignore the horrible girl across the street and avoid further embarrassment that, should he notice her, he would be most certainly subjected to. He straightened his posture, pretending nothing out of the ordinary had ever come to pass, and decided to keep moving on, away from the blond menance – his shopping could wait and perhaps, if he were to ignore the girl enough, maybe she would go away – just like a nasty rash.

He didn't manage to make another step however, before the shrieks and squeals came at him again: "SERAPHINUS ATERLUCIS! Sir! Don't pretend you don't know me! It's Anne De la Croix! From your fifth year Slytherin class!" Louder than before, more brazen and more coherent as well. She was evolving. The little annoying, lying, disrespectful rat of a girl – the one that had broke into his office, for reasons yet to be revealed, not more than a few nights ago – oh, how he despised her!

Seraphinus ignored her yet again, although he was sure no one else on the street was able to. He had never been a religious, praying sort of man, quite the contrary, he found that blasphemous activities suited him so much better – he was a corrupted, depraved, damaged individual and that position suited him just fine – but in that short moment he did pray. He asked all his dark gods and wizards that came before him, he asked for deliverance and absolution, he asked them to save him from this annoying twig of a girl. She had already ruined his night, for after the display she had put on, all game had certainly skidded away, out of his grasp, so if he was to starve, or drink some of that filthy bottled stuff, he only asked that he might be allowed to do so in peace.

She was fast however. He only managed a few steps and the next thing he knew an unnecessary breath was leaving his lungs as the girl pounced him like a devil straight out of hell, like his own personal demon – here to torment him. She was … hugging him? Or trying and failing very poorly to do so.

Seraphinus couldn't help containing the low growl that rouse deep in his chest as he tried to unwrap her hands from behind his neck – this was unheard of. He couldn't believe she was so brazen and improper - in the middle of the street, in the middle of Knockturn Alley, no less.

He successfully disentangled himself from the girl's limbs, holding her by the upper-arms and setting her in front of him, perhaps using a little more force than necessary, but at this point, he really couldn't care less about such details, let the girl bruise, she deserved much worse than that in his opinion.

The young man took a few unnecessary breaths, trying to calm himself a little, but to no avail. He was beyond pleasantries and manners at this time. He glared at her with all his might, anger and annoyance blazing in his eyes.

"You …" he began, having a much more difficult time finding his words than first suspected. "You little …" he stopped himself short of calling the girl, this Anne, a very unflattering name. "You … vex me! Greatly!"

TBC