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I told you I would be back with another Hermione/Sevvie! Enjoy! (Or at least try to.)

Note- I am re-uploading this because I am not happy with the way it was before! There are only small changes, so it's not essentail that anyone re-reads it!
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Chapter One- White Teeth

A flash of white teeth.

Hermione walked down the silent, dark road. A little way behind her, she could hear the noises of the party, if she strained her ears.

The celebration of the victory of the Order of the Phoenix against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

She knew that she should be there. She had been there. In fact, there was only one reason why she was not there enjoying herself with her friends at that very moment...

But it was out of her control.

Hermione continued to walk.

At the corner of her left eye she saw a beam of light reflecting off something white.

A tiny voice in her head was babbling wildly about what was happening to her.

Vampire! You know what it is, Hermione, a vampire is controlling your mind. You just need to fight it, force yourself to go back to the party, tell everyone and get their help... You even know how to fight them on your own!

The voice began to list ways that she could fight it, defeat it, everything that it knew. And being the inner voice of the fabled Hermione Granger, it knew a great deal.

The problem was that Hermione was not Harry Potter. She was not able to resist mind control. She had mastered almost everything else that a witch possibly could, but this was the one thing that had somehow always escaped her.

As a powerful witch, Hermione was rarely helpless... but this was one of the occasions in which she was. She could not even call for help.

Her journey ended suddenly behind some dustbins.
The little voice in her head said sarcastically, 'How lovely. You're going to die while everyone else is celebrating, behind some dustbins.'

"Hermione Granger," said a voice slowly. "What an honour."

Hermione, of course, was unable to answer.

"I have been looking forward to this moment for years, you know," it said conversationally. "I have been watching you. You will be quite an asset to us, I must say. All those NEWTS, the powerful contacts, and extremely gifted at magic as well. Everything I have been looking for."

The speaker stepped into the light thrown by one of the streetlamps.

"Yes, Hermione. Feast your eyes- after all, you will need to know me. I will be your everything."

Hermione could not help it- she looked.

The man in the light was certainly not ugly- in fact, he was quite the reverse. Long pale brown hair, a face that was a sculptor's dream, a moderate build. There was a commanding sort of presence around him.

But the more she examined him, the more she realised that he was not as pleasing as she had thought.

Handsome as the man was, his appearance was somehow cold, disturbing to look at after a few moments. His presence was not benevolent, like that of Dumbledore; it was oppressing. After only a few moments, Hermione felt like she was being smothered.

"Do you like what you see, Hermione?" said the man, seemingly unaware that she was doubting him. "You can have it, if you like. For eternity."

Suddenly, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Hermione flexed her arms, somehow feeling that they were stiff. She was, once again, in control.

Slowly, she began to feel for her wand.

Hermione noticed after a moment that the vampire was expecting her to talk.

"You want to turn me into a vampire?"

"Of course, what else? From what I know about you, you would make an ideal companion for me."

She frowned. "What if that isn't what I want?"

Hermione grasped her wand, preparing a few hexes and curses.

The vampire sighed.

"I see that this will not be as easy as I hoped. You wand please, Hermione." Hermione felt her hand rise and give the wand back to the vampire. "You can have this the easy way or the hard way. If you try to run or attack me, I can and will stop you. Please try to co-operate."

"Why are you doing this?"

"For me... and for you. If you come with me, you can have immortality to do anything you please with. Study, travel, anything you like. Do you not want that?"

It was tempting. Hermione knew that it was tempting. The vampire knew how much it tempted her; that was why he was asking.

But she also knew that she could never accept the offer.

"If you come with me, I will have a companion for myself, one who is intelligent enough to converse with. I can show you power, Hermione. You could do things you only dreamed of."

"You know I could never say yes, no matter what you do or say... what was your name?"

"I go by a number of names- after all, you pick up a few over the millennia. I think that my favourite, however, is Damien. You will learn the rest over time."

Damien, thought Hermione. Means... sweet and harmless. I wonder what went wrong?

"I haven't accepted your offer yet, Damien," she said, as confidently as she could.

The vampire smiled a mirthless smile, and Hermione felt her blood run cold.

"I have been patient, Hermione. I have waited for you for so many years. But now my patience has run out. I will have you tonight."

"But you made it sound like I had a choice," she said pleadingly.

"I would have preferred you to come willingly. However, come you will in the end."

Hermione could not think of anything to say.

She had spent the last few years of the war against Voldemort expecting death to come at any moment. And to many it had, often barely missing her.

But tonight... tonight she had thought that she was safe, that she could just enjoy herself and what had promised to be the rest of a happy, peaceful life to come.

Apparently not.

Damien was coming closer, although making no noise as he moved. In fact, everything was silent. There were no footsteps, no rustles of clothing. Just her death stalking closer and closer.

Hermione tried to back away, but as she did, she felt the weight of the mind control spell that the vampire appeared to be so adept at stopping her escaping.

Damien was so close that she should have been able to feel his breath, and the heat from his body.
She could feel nothing. He was cold. There was no heartbeat, no warm breath against her cheek. No life in the cold, dark eyes staring down at her.

Hermione was aware of her head tilting back, but was still a little shocked at the feel of sharp teeth grazing her neck. They brushed against it for a moment, then suddenly pierced the soft, white skin there.

She gasped as she felt the vampire's tongue on her neck, lapping up the blood that was quickly appearing.

As the energy began to drain out of her, her body slumped, and was only held up by Damien's arms, which had clamped around her waist.

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Severus Snape stared into the depths of his mug of firewhisky.

"Severus, I thought that you and Hermione had decided to meet here?"

The man looked up to see Harry Potter, who he was never happy to see at the best of times. And funnily enough, even at this joyous hour, this was not the best of times for Severus.

"So did I, Potter."

"Severus, I always told you to call me Harry."

"I never told you to call me Severus," muttered the older man irritably into his glass.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," said Harry. "Anyway, I was wondering if you had any idea where Hermione is?"

"None at all," said Severus glumly.

"Oh. Do you think she went home?"

"I doubt it. She is probably just with some people that she enjoys spending time with more than me."

Severus cringed at what he had just said. He sounded like a moody teenager!

It was true, though, that Hermione had agreed to meet him. She had known that he was out of sorts in parties, so had promised him that she would meet him at the bar for a drink to celebrate together. It had been one of the only things he had been really looking forward to that evening.

"Nobody else has seen her for a while. We are beginning to get a little worried."

Severus shifted immediately.

"You should have just asked me, Potter. Tell me, have you tried her home?" Harry nodded. "Everywhere in the party?" Another nod. "The roads outside? She may have felt ill and gone out." Harry shook his head. "Well, I will go and look for her. After all, the 'hero of the hour' should be in here enjoying himself," said Severus wryly.

After a moment, the younger man nodded again. Severus put down his drink and stood, brushing down his spotless black robes.

Stepping out into the road, Severus began to walk down it, musing over how much had changed since the war had begun.

Hermione had decided to specialise in potions- it was the only thing that she had not found easy, she had said, so she had naturally wanted to improve.

After a while, she began to brew potions to a sufficiently high standard that she could work with him. Together, they had developed complex potions that would help in the final battle- both to attack and to heal.

Since they both worked in such a close proximity to each other, Severus had been forced to get to know the girl. It had turned out not to have been such a torture as he had imagined. Hermione reminded Severus a little of himself- just happier, and rather more socially adept (although this was not saying much).

Although Severus had always told himself that she would not turn up to drink with him tonight, that she would have better things to do than spend time with an old teacher, he had in truth been very disappointed that she had 'stood him up'.

As he neared the end of the road, Severus saw two figures embracing by the bins.

One of them had curly brown hair.

Severus immediately guessed that Hermione had found a lover at the party, and was choosing to celebrate with him.

For some inexplicable reason, that hurt.

As quietly as he could, Severus moved closer to the couple. He should find out who it was, he told himself. See if he was suitable, if he was good enough for her.

It was for her own good.

Damien drew back.

"Someone is coming."

Hermione would have been happy, but she was too weak to respond.

"I will not be able to take you with me tonight- there is no time. Do not worry though, my dear. I am sure that one of them will give you some blood to 'save your life', and make you like me. My doing or not, you will become one of us."

A tear squeezed itself from one of Hermione's eyes, and rolled slowly down her cheek. Damien touched the drop, and it burst on the tip of his finger.

"I will come back for you, Hermione. Be a good girl while I am gone," drawled the vampire with a smile.

With that, he leant Hermione against one of the bins, then was gone. Unable to hold herself up, she began to slide to the floor.

For the second time that evening, strong arms caught her.

"Hermione," said Severus, "look at me, say something."

She was too pale, he thought. And there was something on her neck.

He bent down, and saw the gaping wound there, blood pouring out of it. And she was so pale...

"Don't worry, Hermione. I can save you, there must be something I can do. Keep calm, just don't die... please..."

Although Hermione knew that she should stop him, tell him to let her die instead of turning her into a vampire, she could not.

There is something about human nature that will always resist death, no matter how close it is or whether it is right or wrong.

Hermione allowed her eyes to flutter shut as he picked her up, and was lost to oblivion.
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