Disclaimer: Any character or locale that you recognize is the result of JK Rowling's imagination and therefore her property. I'm not making money off this, just playing on JK's coattails for a while.

This part of the story is rated R for violence and content. It will become NC-17 at some point so be warned.

Chapter 3: Fearing fear itself

Over the next few days Hermione found herself confronting the beginnings the nightmare she was facing. Christov had explained that she was infected with a form of Vampirism that was very rare. Contrary to the numerous books written by muggle authors, Hermione learned that vampires come in different "breeds". Most breeds are rather innocuous in that they prefer an isolated existence and feed on mostly wild animals, not wanting to venture into populated areas. Like werewolves, vampires are shunned by non-infected wizards and if they can happen to function in society, tend to keep their infection a secret.

"Fear causes peculiar behavior in people." Christov said with a note of irony in his voice. "These creatures fear most the actions of other people's fear." He continued, "Most vampires struggle in the world. If they are not in hiding, they must hold jobs at night and feed discretely. The common vampire doesn't demonstrate fantastic ability. They don't have hyper sensitive senses or transfigure at will. They cannot bend a victims mind to their will. They cannot survive the light, it weakens their already diminished life."

Hermione was intrigued. "The vampire that attacked me. What sort was he?"

Christov visibly shuttered and paused before replying, "He was U'ebitsche. The worst of evil monsters, that one." Christov was uncomfortable discussing the U'ebitsche with Hermione, but she needed to know what to expect from the life she was now forced to endure. He crossed the room and poured himself a draught of dark red liquid from a crystal decanter. In one pull, the glass was empty only to be refilled by a much more steady hand. He turned and offered Hermione a wary smile, "Port. Sometimes courage is best poured into a glass. Would you like a bit?" Hermione nodded and appreciatively took the proffered glass.

"Mr.Dimetria, please tell me about the U'ebitsche." Hermione's eyes were pleading with Christov to tell her a story with a happy ending, but it appeared that today she would not get a fairy tale. As he spoke, a cold chill gripped Hermione's heart and tears brimmed in her eyes.

"He was born U'ebitsche. He was not made that way. Pure monster if you ask me. His powers are unlike any I've ever heard about. Just looking into his eyes is enough to make a person die of fright. That's the rumour anyway. He's haunted this forest for years, but he comes and goes. He likes to play with his victims. You saw the pool. He makes them see pure beauty before his kills them. His trap allows him to take their passion for his own and none ever escape. I've often found the remnants of his twisted existence after he's gone. He never leaves much behind. Some hair here, finger there. You were the first I've known of to survive his attack. Honestly, I don't understand why. His senses are sharp and he would have known I was there long before I even saw him. I wonder......" Christov trailed off.

Hermione was looking out the window of the small cottage. Her expression was hard to interpret. Christov noted that she was changing rapidly. Her eyes had been deep cinnamon brown yesterday. Today they were tinged with violet. Her hair, once unruly and dark ash brown was becoming more sleek, longer and had auburn highlights. Her skin shone like fine silver dust dancing in a sunbeam. She was fully recovered from her encounter with the U'ebitsche, but it was clear that her blood had been corrupted and the transformation was underway.

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione inquired, "What will happen to me? If I am to accept this life, I must know what to expect."

He regarded her with a mixture of sympathy and awe. There was no avoiding the truth. "You will change into some version of the U'ebitsche. The transformation has already begun. We can only hope that you will retain what love and joy you have in your heart when your transformation is complete. You mentioned that Adele spoke to you and you understood Quiddity." He laughed, a bit like a schoolboy would laugh at a harmless prank. "I've often wondered if that miserable dog and prideful cat understood what I've said to them. It seems animals can learn Slavic with the rest of us, eh?"

Hermione was perplexed. "Slavic? No, Adele spoke to me in some form of fractured English."

"How could she? She's never heard that language. We've lived here for many years. Come to think of it, I haven't heard any English since I was a boy at Durmstrang and we had an exchange student from Ireland. Been in this forest for many years, I have." Christov gave her an enigmatic look. "Tell me dear, where did you learn to speak the Slavic language so well?"

"Slavic?!" Hermione exclaimed. "I don't speak Slavic. Well, only what Viktor has taught me, but mostly it's just mushy garbage I won't ever say to anyone else."

Christov gave her a pensive look. "I think I understand. One of the many talents I believe you will find yourself endowed with in the coming months may be multi-lingual perception. Peculiar indeed. Do you notice anything else?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, really. I could hear your heartbeat pulsing through your wrist when you handed me the glass of port. And despite sitting in front of the fire, my skin feels cool, almost refreshed. It won't end there, will it?" Hermione wasn't sure she wanted her question answered.

"Doubtful, my dear. This is only the beginning and I can not predict what will happen. All I can do is wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.

"What of this Viktor? He is your boyfriend? Surely he must be worried about you." Christov said.

Hermione gasped. "Goodness, I've been here for days and he's surely back from Australia by now. He'll wonder where I've got off to. Do you have an owl I could send to him, Mr.Dimetria?"

"I'm afraid not, Hermione. But we can send Adele with a message for him." Christov handed Hermione some parchment and a quill to write a message to Viktor while he went and roused the sleeping cat off the windowsill.

* * * *

The next morning Hermione woke feeling refreshed and energetic. As she dressed she glanced in the mirror hung over the bed. She could see the changes taking hold in her appearance. Her front teeth were now much smaller than Madame Pomfrey had made them in her 4th year at Hogwarts. Conversely, her canine teeth were slightly longer and sharper. The change was subtle, but she noticed. She also noted that her hair had grown a couple inches overnight and was now tickling the bottom of her ribcage. "Not a bad change." Hermione thought to herself as she pulled on her jeans and blouse.

Hermione opened the bedroom door, took two steps and immediately got knocked to the floor as the weight of a medium sized man apparated where she was walking.

"Hello, Viktor." Hermione said pleasantly. She reached up and gave him a passionate kiss, but gasped when he pulled away abruptly. Viktor looked her up and down and realization came into his eyes. He moved away to stand by the doorway near Christov who had just come in with an armload of firewood.

"Viktor, what's the matter?" Hermione asked. He looked terrified and was still backing toward the door.

Viktor's eyes were filling with tears despite the fear in them as he said, "It's true then. I wvill owvl your parents right awvay to expect you on tomorrow's train. Goodbye, Hermione." With that, he turned a fled out the door.

Comprehension dawned on Hermione as she saw Viktor's reaction. She hadn't needed to say a word for him to know of the monster she was becoming. Heartbroken, Hermione ran back into the bedroom, flung herself onto the bed and cried.

Christov placed a sympathetic hand on her back and guided her into a fatherly embrace. "It's the way of fear, child. Your strength and resolve to live will help you in your journey, but you will learn all too well the heartbreak of rejection for what you are. I can't change your fate, much as I wish I could. But I promise that no matter what your future holds, I will love the heart that beats in your chest and the spirit alive in your mind." Hermione looked into Christov's old black eyes and whispered, "Thank you, Mr.Dimetria."