A/N: This should go without saying, but just in case... This story is much darker than my other HP/Twilight crossovers. People are going to die, most of them won't be known characters, but in this chapter one is well-known. Angsty stuff is somewhat new to me, so I hope this is okay. Second 'Creepy Quote' is underlined.
Also, this is officially going to push this story into 'M' range, at least, I'm going to change it to be safe. This chapter deals with sexual situations and character death. Since I'm pushing this up to M, I will promise lemons in later chapters. Fair trade?
Enjoy, and please review. This has gotten such wonderful support, and reviews make me want to update quickly (hint, hint). Thanks for reading!
She had left him, and the panic set in, but only for a moment before he started thinking. He knew more about newborns that almost anybody west of Italy, so he would have to assume that she was going to act somewhat like a newborn, although more like one who had their wits about them. A slight disadvantage, but there were still things that most of the young ones did. He could only hope that she would follow the pattern at least slightly.
The first place he checked was her house. Someone had been through, probably looking for her, but there was not a trace of her vampire scent here. She hadn't come back. He went to the abandoned house, but, as he had suspected, she hadn't gone back to the obvious place. He had a feeling about where she might be going, and he hoped she wouldn't stoop to that, but it was often too tempting not to do once one had superhuman powers. He dug out his copy of her biography and flipped through the pages until he found the information he wanted. Securing a few of his belongings he made sure the coast was clear before jumping out the window and taking off to the west.
She spent the first day hiding out in the attic of some old Muggle woman who obviously hadn't been up there in a while. The smell from below her was tempting, but she didn't want to kill again. When the burning became near unbearable she would hunt again, before she was driven mad by hunger. Her new plan was to practice self-denial. If she didn't satisfy her thirst whenever it called to her perhaps she would learn to take longer between killings.
When the sun had gone down on the fifth day she admitted the burning was taking control and she left the attic. The days had given her a chance to think. There was no denying that she was a killer now, but if she had to kill, perhaps it was better to rid the world of those who wouldn't be missed, whose absence might improve the lives of those around them. And she had just the idea where to start.
She made her way to a safe place to Apparate, and disappeared into the night, reappearing in a grove of trees in Wiltshire. Sliding down a secluded lane she came across a row of yew hedges. She followed, keeping in the shadows, until she came across a narrow drive. Checking to make sure the coast was clear she bolted down the drive, raising her wand at the wrought iron gates she was approaching. Much to her surprise they disappeared, allowing her access. Perhaps they sensed that the one holding the wand was more an evil spirit than a good one. Silently she rounded a large, ornate fountain, skirted past an albino peacock pecking at a fallen log, and came around the back of the house.
"I tell you, Narcissa, you are going to your women's group tonight," a sinister drawl sounded out of one of the back windows.
"But I don't feel well, Lucius," she pleaded with a cough.
"I have business to conduct around the manor, and I do not wish you to be here for it," he snapped back.
"You mean you've got a whore coming," she muttered.
"So what if I do? If my wife kept up her appearance and didn't seem so disinterested in physical relations I wouldn't have to resort to find release elsewhere," he replied indifferently.
"What about my looks displeases you?" she asked, voice catching in her throat.
"At the moment, everything. You are a mess, Narcissa. Hardly worthy of being seen on my arm. If divorce wasn't so frowned upon I would have found a suitable replacement some time ago."
"Perhaps I should go live with Draco, then!" she snapped, stumbling from the room.
"I should be so lucky," he muttered into his glass of firewhiskey.
Hermione ducked behind a bush as Narcissa stormed out the back, tears streaming down her face. Hearing the familiar crack of Apparation not once, but twice, Hermione dashed around to the front of the manor. A pretty girl about her age was striding towards the front door. Hermione cast a quick glamour charm on her eyes and walked towards the young woman.
"Hullo, there," she said, blocking her from going up the steps.
"Um, hullo," the woman eyed her nervously.
"I'll be taking over the care of Lord Malfoy tonight," she said with confidence and finality.
"Did the agency send you?" the woman hissed.
"No," she said, trying not to show her annoyance. "I'm just really interested in spending some time with Lord Malfoy."
"He's the highest-paying client I have this week!"
"Did he already pay the agency?"
"Yes."
"Then keep the damn money. I'm not in it for the gold."
"Your funeral. The man isn't much for pleasing the women he's with, though he likes to think he's the best we've had. And you may want to re-think your outfit, dearie. He likes someone a little more refined looking." The woman turned and started walking down the drive. Hermione didn't hear the 'crack' of her Disapparating, but she didn't see her, either. She took a moment to transfigure her clothes into a revealing black dress and strappy black heels. Her sleek hair went easily into an elegant up-do, and with her new looks there was hardly the need for makeup. As an afterthought she cast a warming charm on her skin, in case the scumbag touched her. She checked her reflection in the fountain, then ran to the front door and knocked.
A house elf opened the door and bowed her inside. Without a word the ragged creature led her to the large sitting room, where Lucius was sitting in an armchair by the fire.
"That will be all," he snapped at the elf, who bowed out and scurried away.
"You are late," Lucius drawled, motioning for her to sit on a pillow at his feet. "And you are not the girl I requested."
"She fell ill with a fever. The agency thought I would be a suitable replacement."
"You bear a striking resemblance to..."
"Hermione Granger, sir?" she smiled sultrily.
"Yes. That repulsive little Mudblood my idiotic son has had his eye on for some time."
"One of the reasons I was suggested as a replacement."
"You are willing to do as I would wish to do to Ms. Granger?" his eyebrow lifted.
"You are a long-term, high-paying client," she smiled back.
He considered her for a while. "If things turn out well Ms...."
"Whitlock," she offered, without even thinking about it. "Though whatever you want to call me is suitable."
He smirked. "If things work out, pet, you may be hearing from me on a more regular basis. Wine?" he offered her a glass that had been sitting by his side.
"Please," she said, reaching for it, but his hand closed tightly over her wrist. Without another word he lowered the glass to her lips and helped her take a sip. It was foul, some of the worst stuff she had ever tasted (right behind Polyjuice), but she kept her face plastered with a small smile.
"While you are here you will do nothing without my permission. If you desire a sip of wine, I will help you drink it. You will speak when I tell you that you may. You are to follow every command I give you, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," she said, straightening up. That's what he would do if he had the chance with her. Control her. Probably humiliate her, too.
"Come sit," he said, patting his lap. As disgusting as she found it she obeyed.
"If there is a next time, pet, I want you to come dressed in a Hogwarts uniform, and try to mess your hair up. If I'm going to pretend you are Ms. Granger you must make the part more convincing. Do you understand?"
She nodded once, keeping to his ridiculous rule the she could not speak without permission.
"Good girl." His lips traced up her arm, kissing her every so often, then biting her hard skin. She pretended to let out a soft yelp of surprise.
"Not to your liking my dear?"
She shook her head and he continued, placing a hand on her throat and forcing her head up so he could kiss and bite the crook of her neck, obviously not noticing the silver scar from the last person that had bit her there. As he kissed her she took account of what was around her. The walking stick containing his wand lay against the table next to the chair. Before she had much time to look over the room he roughly pushed her to the floor, and she had to really concentrate to fight her reflexes and make her movements look human. She was on her knees on the floor, looking up at him.
"Remove my jacket and shirt, girl," he ordered sharply. She hastened to comply, feeling a pang of regret that it wasn't this Malfoy she wanted to be undressing. Where did those feelings come from? she thought in surprise. Why was the mere thought of sex getting her worked up?
Before she could think things through he roughly pushed her against the wall and began attacking her neck once more.
"Talk dirty to me," he growled.
"You are a lucky man, Lucius Malfoy," she murmured into his hair.
"Why is that?" he sneered.
Seeing her chance she grabbed him around the throat, whirled him around, and pressed him against the wall. It was his turn to gasp in surprise and pain. She released him and he slid down the wall, gasping for breath and in shock. She walked slowly to his walking stick and drew out his wand, which she snapped cleanly in two with one quick movement of her fingers. His eyes opened wide in fear as she took out her wand and lifted the spells she had placed on herself. In the blink of an eye she had him by the throat, pressed against the wall again, as his hands clawed at her stone fingers, trying to escape.
"And you thought you were in control," she sneered, looking into his terrified eyes. "You are lucky because I am very young. At the first sign of blood I'll probably loose control and finish you. I just hope I can return some of the pain you've brought on others first." Her fist flew back as she readied to strike him.
"Hermione," a voice scolded from behind her.
A groan escaped her lips as she turned her head and saw Jasper standing there, a strange look of jealousy and possessiveness on his face.
"Don't play with your food," he warned, flashing red eyes watching her.
"He deserves everything he's about to get," she growled back.
"I don't dispute that. But you are a better person than this, Hermione. You do this, and you are no better than he is, no better than the creature the myths say you should be."
Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at the struggling figure of Lucius.
"And I'm just to let him run free?" she growled.
"No, ma'am," he chuckled. "By all means, kill him. But be the better person, Hermione. Make it quick."
She stared at Jasper, wondering why his words meant so much to her. Sighing she turned back to Lucius.
"A very lucky man," she hissed before sinking her teeth into his skin. Howls of pain filled the room as he did everything he could to be free of her, but in the end he went limp. She finished with him and let his body fall unceremoniously to the floor.
"I noticed you took more time than you needed," Jasper said, looking at Lucius' body.
"Since you talked me out of beating him to a bloody pulp before I killed him I figured I had the right to take my time."
"A small victory," he smiled. "So, do you need to dispose of his body the same as you did that woman?"
"Hell, no," she growled. "Let the man rot right here."
"Do you wish his wife to find him like this?"
"I doubt it would matter much to her. Still, you have a point. House elf?" she shouted. A moment later the timid little thing scurried into the room. Her eyes went wide as she saw Lucius' body laying on the floor. "I know I have no power over you, but would you please warn Narcissa of this before she comes in and finds the body?"
"Yes, Mistress," the elf squeaked, then ran off in terror.
"That takes care of everything, then," Jasper said, offering her an arm to lead her out.
"Not quite. How did you find me here?" she asked.
"I remembered what happened to you here, and how it quoted you in your biography that you might forgive Draco, but you will never be willing to forgive Lucius for so callously treating you and your friends lives. And I assumed that you would be looking to feed on someone who you felt would do more good dead than alive. I figured you might have come here sooner or later. I guess I was right."
"I see," she muttered, taking his arm and letting him lead her from the house.
"It was a good kill, but I should warn you of one thing."
"Yes?" she asked.
"You let the, er, working girl, walk away from here. She saw you, even with your disguise. When word got out that Lucius had been killed she would have been able to tell who was there."
"I didn't even think about it!" she gasped.
"I did," he said, looking at a barely noticeable pile of dirt underneath one of the hedges. If Hermione didn't hear what it was she would have assumed it to be nothing more than part of the ground disturbed by the bushes. They walked in silence through out of the drive and down part of the lane before he spoke again.
"I have been doing some thinking. You have every right to hate me for turning you. I know it was crass of me to ask or even hope for your forgiveness for that. I wanted to tell you that before I ran into you I was heading towards Volterra..."
"You were going to the Volturi?" she gasped.
He chuckled. "Wizards don't have a high opinion of them, I know, but they are somewhat of our royalty. I thought my skill might be useful to them, and I would be able to stop my wandering for a little while. Maybe find someone to wander with..." he gave her arm a hopeful little squeeze that she ignored. "If you want we can continue there. Maybe you will be able to find you path among others of our kind."
She thought about it. She wanted to stay in England, near her friends, but at the same time she felt like there might be more of what she was looking for if she moved on. Perhaps if she spent some time away, worked on her control, learned from those who had been around the longest, she would be better equipped to come back to see her friends and not worry about killing them. And Jasper was right. It would be nice to have someone to wander with. The thought of being away from Jasper, however, sank her stomach for a split second. He obviously had some sort of feelings for her, but she wasn't sure what her feelings towards him were yet. There was still some animosity she would have to work through before she could ever think of him as anything more than the one who made her. Volterra might be a good place for her to work a lot of things out, surrounded by thousands of years worth of guidance. Gaining their acceptance didn't worry her, they would more likely than not love her magic and welcome her openly.
"It would be worth a shot to at least try going to Volterra," she nodded. "But I have something to do first."
He nodded. She wrapped herself around him, turned on the spot, and left Malfoy Manor and her second kill behind her.
