My Christmas present to all you lovely reviewers- thank you prettygal456, Penguin78 and TazzijadeBlack! you are all so nice and complimentary :) - so this is a little bit of a filler chapter- it gets more interesting next chapter but this chapter sprung into my head and explains a few things! Merry Christmas! (I have to wait another hour before Christmas D':)

Hermione looked at the dusty, plain room she was in. Waving her wand she first cast cleaning spells, the precautionary ones to stop people from getting in, warning spells if anyone broke through those, and a further set of wards over the bed. She knew that vampires contained a little of their own magic which was especially strong in the older families such as the Dracula's .

In deciding how to decorate she though of the other two houses she occupied, one at Grimauld place and one in her own home, which was within walking distance. Her rooms were never the same, the only thing they had in common was a bed, a wardrobe and bookshelves- each showing a slightly different side to her. Her room at Grimauld was red, Gryffindor, at her own house the walls held a dark midnight blue colour. Pausing slightly for a moment as she decided Hermione waved her wand and a colour that was a cross between forest green and emerald appeared on her walls, on of them also displaying a silver swirling pattern. The floor she left a deep mahogany. Unpacking her small beaded bag she sent out and enlarged two tall bookshelves and their contents- that had been waiting for a new home for some time, black curtains and a silver lampshade. She quickly transfigured the bed into a large double, with silvery covers and sheets. With a wardrobe expanding into place and a small vanity Hermione appreciated the size of the room though it did make her curious as to who this slayer was.

The slayer had been accepted for sometime into the family, a family who hated slayers. This was strange, a slayer should not be welcome in a vampires home- that much was obvious, and even if one was they wouldn't survive. However she had no interest in pressing the Dracula's for details, they all had their own secrets- after all she has not told them of the war that reeked havoc in her life and the wizarding world. With a flick of her hand the curtains shut and Hermione changed into her sleep wear- a dark green silk top that was far more low cut than her normal day clothing and had small silver straps and detailing. It came with matching silver shorts that she hoped would not be too inappropriate for the next morning. Looking in a full length mirror that was on one of her wardrobe doors she frowned. Her body was marred with scars from hours of torture, almost as riddled with pain as her mind was.

They were obviously visible against her pale skin, though compared to the Dracula's she may as well be tanned. She would put on a robe in the morning but she hoped that before long she could wonder around in just her night wear without having to worry about stares, such as she did at Grimauld and in her own home. Her blood brothers and those she considered family had their own scars, some had more than others, and no one was ashamed to show them- but these people were not war heroes and she knew they most likely did not have the same views.

It had been a unanimous decision throughout the trio to become blood siblings and had strengthened their bond further- Hermione was forever popping round and seeking comfort from them after a nightmare, she had had the worst experiences of the war and they were highly protective of her. Casting several of the strongest silencing spells she could muster Hermione eased onto the comfortable bed, placed her wand under her pillow for security and got set to sleep.

"Bertrand your back, how was the meeting?" the count concealed his annoyance at the tan vampire though the frosty tone left no need for assumptions.

"It was good, Wolfie wasn't too pleased about being dropped back home but I told him it was just a vacation. Where is Vlad?" the count pointed upstairs.

"Brooding, again." the younger vampire made to leave but the count placed a hand on his pale blue blazer- picking at the fine material slightly. "Not too fast, we have a young witch staying with us. I trust you remember a thing called manners do you not?" the Count placed himself gently on his plush throne. Bertrand hissed angrily.

"A witch, you allowed a witch into your home- do you not remember how they persecuted us?" the count waved a hand dramatically,giving a small smile.

"Yes, I am quite fond of her so far,c but you will not harm her. The entire wizarding world will come down upon you until your nothing but ash blowing in the breeze." Bertrand came closer, his eyes black.

"You are a fool Dracula, shes just fooling you- no witch is ever good news." The Count gave a simpering smile.

"And you know from experience I take it- go check up on the girl. I assure you she is not making any traps or plotting painful ways in which to kill us all. There is this thing mortals do- they call it sleeping- perhaps you have heard of it?" snarling Bertrand ran upstairs as the Count slowly trailed after him, highly amused by his aggravated state. As the blur ran past the Counts children stepped into the hall. "Just showing him our new guest, and how harmless she is." Bertrand slammed open the door but could not physically enter the room- it took him a a lot of magic even to do that.

He slammed against the protective ward twice before giving up and looking inside. Hermione was silently screaming, her body convulsing, tears running from closed eyes as her hands balled into tight fists and her nails almost tore the skin. She had curled up into a foetal position and was rocking in her sleep. Her scars became more prominent as she tensed in unimaginable pain. The Dracula's quickly averted their eyes from the multitudes of scars marring her body knowing she would not want them to know of her moments of weakness, would not want them to witness her scars- proud as she seemed.

"There is no sound? Why?" Ingrid asked, her hands gripping like a vice onto her brother's arm.

"Silencing charm, that girl is a warrior and you let her into your house Dracula?" Bertrand asked stalking towards the family. "You saw her, she knows pain and is more than likely to inflict it upon you. Your a fool to think she wouldn't, she's mortal and that's what they do. They take and harm and never stop because they think they are above everything and everyone else. Mark my words you will see damage to your family from her hands." Vladimir took a step forwards and with a twitch of his hand the door slammed shut, his eyes black and his posture tense.

"A warrior you say? It seems the entire wizarding world has become one of those according to the snippets we have gleaned. What I see is a girl who has suffered war, who has been tortured and is still in pain. What I see is someone who is combating her fear daily, who is trying to regain her life and who is doing her job by inspecting up fairly and without prejudice. What we see is a girl who is not here to destroy us because she herself Is destroyed and doesn't want to inflict that upon anyone else. And what I see is a vampire who is not willing to give her a fair chance, is being prejudiced and who is more than welcome to leave." the hall door slammed open and the candles lit- illuminating the way out. "Understood?" Vlad's power made him seem far larger than he was and this was only a fraction of what he contained. The elder vampire lowered his head in respect.

"Yes sire." Vlad smiled, revealing pointed canines.

"I'm glad we got that settled Bertrand, come tell em of your meeting." grimacing at the command Bertrand entered the young vampires room, leaving the two other vampires to share smiles.

"Now wasn't that interesting?"

"Indeed father, I think this incident should not be mentioned to our resident witch."

"For once I agree," the Count gave a small smirk, "but Vladimir's defence, now that was something wasn't it." Laughing slightly,a little shocked at her comradeship with her father, Ingrid returned to her room. She felt sorry for the witch inhabiting the room only a little walk away. The witch, she thought, had a funny way of making vampires forget she was mortal. She had already slightly wormed her way into the Counts and Ingrid's own heart. And Vlad, Ingrid didn't know. Since the slayer had betrayed him he had been a mess. The girls at school naturally like the new, darker, mysterious Vlad who now hung out with the popular crowd and had every girl begging for as date- but he wasn't quite the same. His protection, now that was interesting seeing as he cared for nought anymore, Ingrid mused, falling into her velvet lined coffin.

Very interesting indeed.

Next chapter up soon have written it already! :D