Prologue

Hermione Granger was, to say it shortly, a happy woman.

She was now 31 years old, wife of Ron Weasley and proud mother of four little Weasley kids from which the oldest would start going to Hogwarts this September. She was a appointee at the ministry, at the Department for Mysteries. Her husband was an Auror and a quite good one too.

She had a great family, even if her parents died recently. She had five brothers-in-law: Charlie Weasley, respectable dragon expert, Bill Weasley, a Gringotts employee, Percy Weasley-Wood, father of three children and currently unemployed and Fred and George Weasley, ex-pranksters and successful joke shop owners. Her sister-in-law Ginny Malfoy, mother of two little Malfoys, was one of the most famous fashion designers.

She had, together with her friends, defeated Voldemort during her seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry Potter, her best friend and famous wizard, had killed the Dark Lord in a one-on-one battle somewhere underground. No one really knew what happened, the only one who could tell was the spy Severus Snape and he said just as much as he needed – Voldemort was dead, killed by the hands of Harry Potter.

But Harry, Hermione's dear friend, hadn't won everything. Out of reasons unknown had he packed his things as soon as he had gotten his N:E.W.T.S. and disappeared to Merlin knows where. He had never been seen again, until today.

But she still had a happy live and she knew Harry would want her and his other friends to have a happy, lucky live.

Nonetheless was she panicking.

There had been some mysterious muggle killings in Kirkcaldy, north of Edinburgh. The problem with those killings were the method the killer used:

During the last four months had 16 people been killed. All of them had had a slit throat and they had been drained of their blood. Of course, if you slit someone's throat the blood will flow out, but there hadn't been enough blood near or on the victims.

Of course, Hermione's first thought when the report had landed on her desk had been: vampire. Maybe a clever one, but a vampire nonetheless.

She hadn't been so sure about that after the next report. That had been the serial killer's seventh victim.

There had been magic used on the victim. The magical autopsy had clearly shown that. Someone had used 'imperio' on the poor woman that had been killed.

But, vampires had their own magic and illusion and command magic could be used by them. It could have still been a vampire.

But the twelfth dead body changed everything.

It had been day when the man had been found. Afternoon, to be precise. And the autopsy had said that the middle-aged man had died around twelve o clock. He had died at high noon. In broad day light.

And normal vampires couldn't just walk in the sun. hey would burn if they did that.

Unless you were a 'dies gradior' – a 'Daywalker'.

A Daywalker was a special vampire who could walk through sunlight, was immune to garlic and other normal ways to kill a vampire. A stake won't kill a Daywalker either.

But not everybody could become a Daywalker – thank Merlin for that.

You had to be someone with a high magical ability – a sorcerer, necromancer, conjurer, mage – something like that. And even then you had to be strong. If a vampire decides to turn you and you have this much power, you turn into a Daywalker.

A Daywalker normally had full access to his or her magical powers and a high capability of performing vampire magic. Daywalkers weren't normal, mindless killers who craved blood more then anything else.

Daywalkers were intelligent, mighty, dangerous and extremely rare.

And that was the reason Hermione was panicking. She was sure this was a Daywalker, but the Minister of Magic, David Ducyan was, like his predecessor Cornelius Fudge, a not believing idiot. He thought the idea of such a great threat walking through a muggle town was simply ludicrous.

Of course, not everybody thought that. Assumptions had been made, that the only known Daywalker – Severus Snape, still teacher at Hogwarts and still looking like twenty years prior, – was the killer. But Minerva McGonagell , current Headmistress of Hogwarts, had made clear that that was not possible.

And now Hermione was simply panicking. A Daywalker wasn't going mad if he didn't get blood regularly, but he needed human or animal blood or a potion which had the similar effect once in about two weeks

Every sixteen days.

And from these sixteen days had ten already passed. The Daywalker would kill again soon. And Hermione could do nothing against it.

Daywalkers were very rare, so rare in fact, that nobody was trained to track them down and/or take out.

Hermione knew just two persons she thought capable of to kill this Daywalker.

The first one was Harry Potter, but he had disappeared and no one knew why or where.

The second person was maybe the only one who knew why Harry had disappeared or – maybe – where he was now.

Severus Snape, Daywalker.

Translations:

Dies gradior:

Dies – daytime , day; a day, period of twenty-four hours

Gradior – to step , walk

Incruentatus Aenigma:

Incruentatus – bloodless

Aenigma – a riddle, mystery

A/N: Well, I hope my English isn't as bad as I think it is. Anyways, I hope someone likes the plot of this story. This is just the prologue. If you want to read more, leave me a review and tell me. IF you want to flame me, please be at least creative if you do it. If you've got any kind of comments, fell free to write them. I appreciate everything.