"May I sit with you?" The two men, in their mid-forties, sitting at the long, dirty table, raised their heads from their plates filled with rabbit stew and mashed potatoes and scanned the rather dirty interior of the inn. They could swear they'd heard the same words, although the source of the voice was nowhere to be seen. Their companion, a third, somewhat younger man went on with his food as if nothing had happened.
"May I sit with you?" This time the voice came louder and clearer. It was as if something was attracting their heads to the opposite end of the dimly lit room, where, under the cover of darkness, a lone figure was sitting, sipping his drink. Having felt the pressure of their view, the cloaked figure rose from the bench he was occupying, emptied his glass and moved towards their table. He was moving with a certain degree of grace and elegance, his feet barely touching the ground and when he reached their table, lit by a dirty chandelier above their heads, one of the older men, listening to the name Ron had to gulp. He saw that the figure was casting no shadow at all.
"Thanks for your kind invitation," spoke the figure with an edge in her voice, pulled the fourth chair and sat besides the second man, Harry, at the same time freeing her head from the hood of the cloak. By this time it had become clear that the figure was a girl, maybe 13-14 years old, with shoulder-length raven-black hair. She was pale and thin, only her lips were red and somewhat swollen as if she was constantly chewing on them. And her eyes, Ron realized with awe, sparkled with red as she threw a shy smile at the three. He was unable to take his eyes off her, much to the distaste of Hermione - it was her, disguised as a young man - who, at this point, put down her fork and turned to the newcomer.
"Who are you?" she demanded with a slightly hysterical undertone.
"I can help you," the strange girl answered. Her real voice, her eyes, her face, her manners;she seemed much more mature than her age. There was something wrong about her, the three felt that in an instant. "I can help you. Who I am, at this point, is not important."
"First of all, I don't seem to recall that we'd ever asked for your or anyone else's help. Second, if nothing else, good table manners require to know who you are talking to, so yes, it IS important," went Hermione to lecture mode. Ron could barely suppress a smile, this was the Hermione he'd known so well for so long and secretly fallen in love with.
"Professor Dumbledore used to say that help would always be given to those who were in desperate need," answered the stranger with a wry smile, which, Harry could swear, was at the same time incredibly sad.
"What? You knew Professor Dumbledore?" he asked in disbelief, throwing away all precautions.
"Oh yes, he was my father's best man. The wizarding world is small, you know, on the contrary to what you're ready to believe. Is it true he was murdered in June as the Prophet wrote?" their guest inquired.
"Wait a second. How do we know you're not a Death Eater in disguise?" pushed Ron the matter further, reaching for his wand under the table. The girl could not miss the small movement and laughed, at the same dangerously narrowing her eyes.
"You can't. As simple as that. Were I a Death Eater, I could either have killed the three of you days ago or at least taken you to the Dark Lord and collect my reward. Believe me, I saw neither option fit. But you are right, you can't know," she repeated. "Still, I have to warn you, by the time you pull your wand, I will have already broken your neck. I would not risk it if I were you. Your girlfriend here spoke about table manners. Do you always meet people with your wand drawn ready?" she laughed again, but one could say her laughter was not a happy one.
"Harry, there's something wrong about her, mate. She cast no shadow under the chandelier. Her eyes are red. She is a 13-year old girl who speaks as a professional killer. She speaks in our heads," whispered Ron, leaning across the table.
Harry nodded, for a split second uncertain of what he was going to do. Then, he suddenly made up his mind, ready for a compromise. "OK, here's what we do. You tell us who you are, we tell you who we are," he offered, looking into the strange girl's eyes.
"Oh, but I already know who you are, no need for an introduction from your side," the girl smiled at them, this time with an honest, friendly smile. "At this table, Polyjuiced as three everyday Muggles, are sitting three Hogwarts students, most notably Gryffindors. You are Hermione Granger, sitting besides you is your boyfriend Ronald Weasley;"
"He's NOT my boyfriend!" snapped Hermione, flushing red, then looked at Ron and caught a weird expression on his face. Was it disbelief? Disappointment? Yet, she had no time to think about the matter, as well as the worrying question how the girl was able to see beyond their disguise, as Leticia went on, not taking notice of the interruption.
";and you are the very person Death Eaters have been looking for for ages, my dear. The Boy Who Lived. Shall I spell out the name, or do you get the hint?" she inquired in a playful tone.
"And how do you know all this about us, if I may ask?" asked Harry and ignoring the warning look on their guest's face produced his wand and began toying with it.
"If you had listened previously, my dear, to what I was saying, you would already know that I've been tailing you for days. It's your own fault that you are so careless. When in hiding, one would think you'd exercise more precaution. Believe me, I know everything about hiding. I've been on the run for two years now." She looked up at the barman who brought her another butterbeer and nodded curtly.
"Seems I have judged you wrong. You still have some table manners. Thanks for the drink. When you have slept rough four nights in a row, something to warm you up is really welcome," she acknowledged the hospitality.
She sipped some of her drink, then closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, the red sparks in her eyes were gone and they were shining with a vivid, emerald glow.
"My name is Leticia. My parents were murdered by Vol..."
"Don't speak his name. It's cursed! There will be Death Eaters here within minutes!" hissed Hermione.
"My parents were murdered by the Dark Lord two years ago, shortly after his resurrection. Don't look at me like an idiot, Harry! I'm perfectly aware of what you've been through in the graveyard of Little Hangleton... I can see it in your eyes..." The last sentence she didn't pronounce aloud, but Harry still could clearly hear the words as their eyes made contact. He saw the two emeralds glow brighter and brighter but could not break the eye contact with Leticia.
"Stop it! I don't want to relive it again!" he cried. Thanks to the Muffliato charm their conversation could not be heard outside their table, so this small incident went unnoticed, the other guests of the pub didn't take any notice of the four.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." she apoligized, and in a fracture of a second her eyes regained their normal color and intensity. "When I read that article in the Prophet, the article stigmatizing you a liar, a hoax, I tried to read between the lines. There was so much hatred, so much fear in those sentences that I instinctively understood you must have been right. My parents got the willies and immediately started making preparations to move abroad. Two days later they were dead, and together with them my unborn sister my mother was pregnant with. The Dark Lord really wanted to gain their alliance, as my parents had certain... skills and influence."
"Vampires... and you are a vampire as well!" The realization came too hard on Hermione.
"Took too long for the smartest witch of Hogwarts, I'm disappointed," smiled Leticia. "Your Ron here put things together in the first minute, only he could not name things by their name. Impressed!" and she inclined her head towards Ron as a token of approval.
"The boys heard me while you couldn't because I was Calling them. The Call is effective only on members of the opposite sex. When on a hunt, a vampire Calls the victim to come to him or let him in to the victim's place. Can you hear me, Ron?" she looked into his eyes. Ron nodded, just like Harry, unable to break eye contact, sitting and staring into her mesmerized.
"Let!Him!Go!" shrieked Hermione as she jumped on her feet and drew her wand to point at her. Only, Leticia wasn't there. She was gone in a whirl. Then, suddenly, Hermione felt a cold breath on her neck and a cold hand with an iron grip grabbed her chin and inclined her head to the left. The perplexed Hermione felt the wet touch of her tongue on the right side of her neck, a few small kisses planted on her skin on the very spot her artery was pulsating causing her to shiver, then a tiny prickling sensation of two sharp fangs touching her skin there.
"Don't tempt me, stupid girl! You are no match to me!" whispered Leticia in her ear breathing heavily, but the red flash, which had briefly reappeared in her eyes, was already gone. She let go of Hermione, and sat back on her chair besides Harry. Hermione stood still on the same spot, as if in a haze. Ron jumped on his feet and hugged her, clumsily patting her back.
"Hermione, honey, it's OK. She won't harm you." She couldn't answer but Ron could clearly feel her nodding. "Sit down, love." Hermione was glad to feel the comfort of her roughly carved chair again as her legs were just about to give in, so she totally missed the last word, but Harry didn't. With a small smile on his face, he looked into Hermione's eyes and nodded. Only then could the girl relax. Harry, on the contrary, couldn't; he had to turn away for a second so that the others couldn't see the pain on his face as the memories of his Ginny and their last kiss on his birthday emerged on the surface. Blinking back his tears, he swallowed and turned back to the others. They seemingly didn't notice the small intermezzo.
"The Dark Lord wanted to persuade my parents, who indeed were vampires, to join his ranks and to recruit others of our kind into his followers. They declined his offer, so he killed them on the spot, with Dark Magic, a curse only a very few wandholders are aware of," Leticia went on as if nothing had happened. "I was lucky I was at school otherwise I would have been killed as well. I've been hiding ever since, almost two years. You know, we have never bitten a human being. In fact, both Mum and Dad were doctors and they were able to cure several people, who were already written off by human doctors. They were doing research on the usage of several ingredients of the vampire venom in modern medicine and were booking some significant progress."
"But what about the hunger? What about the sunlight? How come you drink butterbeer? I read somewhere alcohol was harmful to the vampire metabolism," inquired Hermione, who seemingly fully recovered from the greatest ever shock in her life.
"Dark Creatures, page 244, written by John Lupin," laughed Leticia, baring her beautiful white teeth. Her fangs were nowhere to be seen. "I know you love to read, Hermione, but come on! It's time to learn that you can't trust everything in a book! Especially not the books that mad Irishman Stoker and the followers of his ideas had written. For a doctor, blood and blood preparates are not that complicated to come by. We can eat some of the human food as well, such as a rare steak. And I've got to admit that I like the taste of butterbeer and tea. Coffee, however, would turn my metabolism upside down, as I had learnt in a rather painful experience, when was it, by the way? Around 1970, was it?"
"How... how old are you then, Leticia?" asked Ron in awe.
"Quite impolite of you to ask, Ron, and I don't think you'll book much success with human girls, asking questions of this kind," shook the vampire her head. Harry met Hermione's eyes and was amused to see a hint of a smile on her worn face. Then, she sent him a sad look, which could just as well have meant "What? I've had worse!"
"I will turn 51 this year, just for your records, Ronald," Leticia pitied him after having emptied her glass.
"Well... you look 13, you are 50, but for some strange reason you feel 200," replied Ron the same blunt way, seemingly having missed the point in Leticia's reproachful tone.
"Why thank you very much, Ron. You know, when a vampire child is born, it already has some of the knowledge and experience of the parents. Therefore we do behave older and know more that our age would suggest," Leticia turned around on her chair and giving a sign with her hand she called the barman.
"We can, of course, sit and chitchat here for ages, but we won't advance with our little task here, so I suggest we move to some place safe. Your Polyjuice will wear off ; what, in five minutes, or so?" she inquired as-a-matter-of-factly as she ordered four more butterbeers and four sandwiches, asking the innkeeper to pack them in. When their order was ready, Harry threw some coins on the table and the four left the inn. The only street lamp lit only a small spot, maybe 20 feet in diameter, with its yellowish light, apart from it there was complete darkness in the narrow alley. Just on time, their Polyjuice disguise wore off and they turned back into their original selves. Leticia nodded. "I like this disguise of yours much better, to be honest. Nobody would suspect three 17-year old students planning the downfall of the Dark Lord and I can blend in just perfectly."
"Why, Leticia? What is your plan?" asked Hermione.
"My plan? I have no plan, as of yet. I have only an aim. To revenge my parents and my unborn sister," she replied in a low voice. "Whatever your plan might be, I'm in. I daresay that with me, your chances to succeed are bigger."
"Grimmauld?" asked Harry his friends, seeking their agreement.
"Grimmauld," answered Ron immediately. "What do you think, love?"
"Honestly, I don't know," answered Hermione hesitantly. She still couldn't forget their previous little encounter and she was not sure if having a teenage vampire around while they were sleeping was a really good idea.
Leticia understood her hesitation. She reached for her pocket and picked out a small amulet in the shape of a snake biting into its own tail, forming a circle, hanging on a leather cord. The amulet was covered with ancient-looking runes even Hermione could not read.
"This belonged to my best friend, a human girl. My parents charmed it and gave it to her so that she be protected if I happen to lose control. Unfortunately, shortly afterwards she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia and passed away within a month. If you don't trust me, you put it on, Hermione. You can also duplicate it and give a copy to Harry and Ron. This way they will be protected, as the protective charm is in the structure of the pendant itself, not simply attached to it. Can you do it?"
"Why of course I can." Somewhat hurt with her abilities being questioned, Hermione reached for her wand and muttered the complex incantation. There appeared two perfect copies of the amulet in her hand.
"Nice work, Hermione. A Protean Charm at your age? I'm really impressed. I was never capable with my wand, so I always had to rely on my other ... capabilities. You will need a drop of my blood, like this..." she bit her lower lip and applied a drop of her black blood on both copies. The ruby in the eye of the snake emitted a red glow, then went dark.
"Ok, now put the amulet on your neck and you are protected from this crazy vampire girl," muttered Leticia half joking, half serious. "If I happen to lose control, the eyes of the snake will light up and the power of the charm will stop me before I could come closer than a yard to you. I wanted to earn your trust; if I were you, I would not want myself around as well. Now, I can assure you I can see fairly well in the dark, what can't be said about you three; so if you don't mind, let's move on. Show me the way, please."
Hermione took Ron's hand and nodded to Harry, who took Leticia's ice cold hand in his. "Leticia, the place we are taking you to is protected by the Fidelius Charm. The address is 12 Grimmauld Place in London. I hope for us all that you don't breach our trust. It might sound lame, but if we fail, there might be no other chance for the wizarding world," he whispered. He felt Leticia's grip tighten on his hand for a second and looked at her, only to see her nod once. For a strange reason he could not explain, as of yet, he trusted her. Suddenly, drawing a sharp breath, Leticia let her hand slip out of Harry's and, reaching under her robe, produced a short, dark wand and raised it in a ceremonial stance.
"I, Leticia Angelica Brown, swear on my magic, my powers and my existence, that I never disclose anything you'll tell me or show me, never share any information I get from you in any form, with any other being without your prior consent. I also swear not to harm anybody you call your family, friend or comrade in front of me, even if my existence depends on it. May the Powers above us help me keep my promise. So mote it be!" she finished the Wizard's Oath in a raised voice, and for a brief moment her contours seemed to dissolve in thin air as a ring of cold blue flames engulfed her.
"I think that should do the trick," she shivered when things went back to normal and her body solidified again. The Trio stood there in disbelief for a second, the Harry gained control again. Offering his right hand again, he pronounced a few formal words.
"Welcome, Leticia Angelica Brown. Your oath is accepted, let us offer our friendship and protection in exchange." The girl accepted the hand; then Ron, and after a second of hesitation Hermione also placed their right hands above their friends'. A golden glow encircled the four, completing the ritual.
Without saying a word, they spun around on the heels and in the next instant the whirlwind of Apparition embraced them, only to land a second later on the top step of 12 Grimmauld Place.
Harry Potter-Black, the lawful heir to the Noble House of Black, reached for the doorknob, which, recognizing his touch, opened and they entered their headquarters.