Chapter Ten

"So what commonalities are we aware of?" Eric boomed as he sauntered into his dining room the following night, startling Sookie and Hermione who were in the middle of small talk with each other. Nobody had expected him to be this early – it was only a quarter past one. Bill, upon hearing Eric arrive, started taking a rather protective stance with his arm around the back of Sookie's dining chair. Hermione expected that, and couldn't help but feel a tad unarmed.

There was some stretched silence amongst the foursome, not that they were trying to come up with any similarities. It was that nobody knew how to begin the discussion.

"Well," Bill started. "All the victims have all been in contact with vampires in one way or another, supposedly at your bar."

"Very good, Bill," Eric sneered. "I'll throw you a bone."

"Eric-"

"Relax, I was only teasing. That information is valuable, yes. Anything else, though, that isn't as predictable?"

Boy, could Eric be a condescending son of a bitch. Of course, Bill wasn't exactly being very tactful anyway, given his obvious contempt for the Viking. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Sookie decided to speak up. "They were all females in their mid-twenties. Dani was the only one who had a kid, Dawn and Maudette were kind of free meat to many men, I didn't know Becca all that well – not as much as Arlene did anyway, um..."

She was rattling off all the information she could recall. Eric was staring at her with utter perplexity and some amusement.

"Bill, stop her yapping."

Clearly offended by this, Sookie exclaimed, "Excuse me, Eric Northman, I am not-"

"Sookie," Bill said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Calm down."

"Well, sorry if I chatter under stress," Sookie pouted. "It's not my fault..."

"Don't be anxious, we're all like family in this nest," Eric goaded, grinning like the world's most satisfied sadist. "I personally do not do well under stress myself. You know what gets me by? Country music. Not that silly pop garbage floating around, but the real deal – you know, rodeo music?"

His words only made Bill gnash his teeth. Hermione could vaguely imagine his fangs were blunted by the sheer force of Bill's locked jaw. She personally found the scenario pretty darn hilarious, though she could not bring herself to burst out laughing. Eric and country music? That was just not an option, ever.

"All right, all right, when we're done with the make-fun-of-Sookie club, can we get back to the topic here?" Sookie snapped, glaring at the Viking. "Anything else we know about the deaths? Hermione, you've said nothin'. Go on. I'm sure you have somethin' we haven't mentioned."

"Indeed-"

"Eric, just shut the fuck up and let her talk!" Sookie barked. She turned to Hermione in a more gentle way. "Go on, sweetie."

"Well, this might be pertinent. They all seemed to kind of died of...fright," Hermione offered.

"What?" Bill and Sookie asked simultaneously.

"What did you say?" Eric breathed softly. A little light bulb had seemingly clicked on in his (dead, Hermione thought) brain.

"I..." she hesitated. Perhaps she shouldn't have told them.

"Say it," Eric encouraged. His tone was hard to place. Somewhere between persuasion and pure force seemed an appropriate classification, if ever such a combination existed. "This would be the perfect time to point out that there will be no secrets within my nest."

Sookie gripped Hermione's hand and looked at her receptively.

"It's okay. What made you say they were scared to death?"

"I...took a look at one of the bodies – Dawn's – and overheard Dearborne talk about one on my first day in Bon Temps – I think they were discussing Dani's death," Hermione finally confessed, more to Sookie than to the vampires. Both Bill and Eric were watching her with alarming attention.

"Wait, how did you manage-?"

"Let's hold up for a minute, Sookie, we should clarify something else first," Bill interrupted. "You sound like you know what dying of 'fright' should exactly entail."

"She is talking about the Avada Kedavra," Eric spoke up, his voice barely audible. "It makes perfect sense, yes..."

"You know about it?" Hermione asked, astounded.

"I have witnessed it used a total of three times in my life," Eric murmured absently, strolling to the other end of the kitchen to stare out the window into the moonlight. "Twice after I was turned. However ever since moving to the States such ancient magic has ceased. Then again, I made it a point to avoid witches and wizards in general, so I suppose my judgement is not a very accurate one."

"But what is it?" Sookie wanted to know.

"It's a spell," Hermione replied. "More specifically a curse. It's one of the three Unforgivable Curses – the incantation kills you."

"And you've seen it used?" Bill asked Eric incredulously. "I've read about it myself. It just seems like pure myth."

"It is something to be sceptical about indeed," Eric agreed. "A flash of green light being able to kill someone. It's too clean."

He seemed to eye Hermione with a sense of caution and suspicion if only for a fraction of a second. Their eyes met and she shook her head slightly in a defensive position. Hermione had no real inclination why she would care at all if Eric thought her dangerous – wasn't that good? He would leave her alone then.

"So let me get this straight," Sookie said. She was obviously having a very hard time digesting this information. "A witch or wizard could point a stick at you, say those words and kill you without leavin' a mark on your body?"

"You have to mean what you say. You have to really want to kill someone or have the sick pleasure of doing it," Hermione whispered. "But otherwise, yes. That's about right."

"Shut up," Sookie gasped, her visage going significantly paler. "Nothing stops it?"

"The curse can be deflected," Hermione answered. "Or you can simply dodge it. But we still don't know for sure if the Unforgivable Curse was used."

"It's utterly convenient," Eric murmured thoughtfully. "Too convenient then. Since nothing can be proved at all, the police and the media will cook up some story, no doubt targeting the vampires. I keep wondering why we came out in the first place."

"Wait, we should consider every angle before we even think about all of this," Sookie exclaimed. "Why would a witch or wizard want to do this to innocent people?"

"Too many reasons," Bill spoke up. "Personal issues, vendettas with them... maybe these people insulted one and whoever this magical being is got a little out of control. I don't think 'why' is the principle here, though, sweetheart."

"It isn't – not in these criminal matters anyway," Hermione could not help but sound defensive again. "Besides, all those assumptions about wizards killing the women? They're as good as obsolete information. The wizarding community has only ever striven to live in peace with the Muggles. We have treaties signed with the Muggle Prime Ministers, and thus these authority members keep our identities hidden. Only an utterly insane individual would want to risk that kind of harmonious relationship. And definitely no one under the Ministry."

"That sounds like a propaganda speech handed over by some authoritarian leader of sorts. I take it Muggle-Magic relations is your area of expertise within your workplace?" Eric enquired, finally taking a seat. She despised it whenever he stared at her with an indecipherable expression. The worst part was that no matter how indistinguishable his features locked into he always seemed to be interrogating her anyway. Forcefully and unrelentingly.

"No it isn't. It's my friend Ron's position," Hermione blurted out without thinking. Ron...

All right, do not think about him, she thought in a panic. He isn't worth it anymore, just stop this before the water works come on!

"Excuse me," Eric's butler – whose name Hermione still did not know – politely interrupted the meeting. "Telephone call for you, Mister Northman."

"Thank you, Vladimir," Eric responded as he rose to his full height yet again. "I'll be back in a bit, kids."

Bill was visibly rolling his eyes in frustration. Sookie sighed and sat back quietly into the sofa. Her grip on Hermione's hand had loosened considerably.

It was like Hermione's thoughts and memories had become a raging ocean, with crests so high and troughs so deep that they were engulfing her. She couldn't remember the last time she even said Ron's name. It hurt too much, so she had kept it away in a little box at the very back of her heart and mind. In it were all the dusty roses, the crumpled letters, the unsaid apologies, Ginny's comfort, that now dreadful scent of parchment and fresh grass...everything from the past few years.

Hermione was suddenly curious. Amortentia was not an easy potion to concoct, but she had done it twice before anyway, so it was not too big a problem for her. Asking around for magical ingredients would be difficult – infiltration of the black market might be required after the United States government shut out the Ministry of Magic, intending to take matters into their own hands concerning the magical community. However she had to know: had the scent in that beautiful pearlescent brew changed? She couldn't still be attracted to Ron, not after what he had done. She had to-

"New Orleans tells me they have sighted a witch and a wizard," Eric called out as he ambled back into the kitchen. He did not sound surprised.

"Why would they tell you of all people?" Sookie questioned.

"They're putting out an alert to the whole of Louisiana," Eric answered indifferently. "The Straitjacket bar in New Orleans reported having thrown out a witch and a wizard looking for a way to get to Bon Temps."

Eric looked pointedly at Hermione for a second.

"I can't imagine why."

"You're thinking I have something to do with this."

"Sending for backup perhaps?" He was angry, Hermione realised.

"I have not been in contact with anybody from the magical world ever since I got here!" Hermione exclaimed. Of course, she could cover up sending her Patronus to Shacklebolt. It's not as if she technically received a reply anyway.

It took her several seconds to calm herself down. "Did your correspondents say anything about who these magical folk were?" she asked softly. "Appearance? Names maybe?"

"Pale freckled red-heads was all I got," Eric replied quickly. "Nobody asked for their names."

Ron and Ginny? Hermione gulped. No one knows for sure, she tried to comfort herself.

Eric continued, "Presumably, they're on their way to Renard Parish right now. I'm putting some border security out to get them. This is only a precautionary measure; I'm just pulling out all the stops here," he reassured Hermione before she could protest. "Still I'm not risking them running around causing more havoc than I daresay I want caused. I'm taking proper procedure, if not the Queen will stake me."

"What will you do with them?" Hermione asked, a sinking feeling finding its way into the pits of her stomach. She felt slightly nauseous.

"That should not be our concern at the moment," Eric answered. "We have to keep a one-track mind on these murders. You were saying the Avada Kedavra could have done it."

"Could have, but not I'm not certain of it. As far as we know, there are plenty of other forces at play here."

"Like what?" Eric challenged.

"How the hell do you expect me to know?" Hermione cried out in response. Both of them seemed to forget that Bill and Sookie were sitting right there, staring at the arguing pair.

"Ever since you got here, murders have escalated. They've left Bon Temps and arrived here of all places."

Eric didn't even need to raise his voice to make a point.

"Are you suggesting that I'm some sort of decoy?" Hermione scoffed. "That I'm only here to lure you vampires out? I have no interest in using you as bait of any kind in witch-burning trials-"

Eric was about to interrupt but he paused to look at her long and hard.

"You know the history," he stated bluntly and...in a tone of surprise.

"Oh so you think I can't be well-informed, do you?" Hermione replied indignantly. "I went to look it up. I very well know you vampires hate our guts, okay? So you can throw all your false hospitality out the fucking window. How do I know you asking me to help is merely turning me over to some sort of police force?"

"I've gone through this," Eric growled behind gritted teeth. "I do genuinely need your help hence I actually welcome you into my home. And this isn't about anything except those two magical beings on their way here, is it? Read my lips. These magical friends of yours do nothing for me. I do not feel obliged to keep them as my guests-"

"-But as prisoners you'll receive them with open arms." Hermione shook her head slowly. "I can't believe you."

"Why do you care so much as to what I do with these people?"

"For your information, the description you gave me happens to fit that of two of my friends," Hermione said frigidly. "It's a real fucking long shot, but if I find out that they are who I speculate them to be, and you lock them up, you will be sorry, Eric. I don't care who you are in this area of Louisiana. You will be sorry. Don't underestimate me."

Without another word, Hermione screeched her chair backwards and stormed out of the dining room upstairs.


Calling on her would not be wise. She needed some space to herself for her to calm down. However, she intrigued him so much. Hermione had only been in his abode for a couple of days but her presence there was different. No, it wasn't her witchcraft entirely. She was a different breed of girl that he was used to.

A lot like Sookie – headstrong and independent. Well, Sookie had Bill now, so some of that liberty was bound to filter away soon enough. Hermione was clearly alone in something. He could see it in her eyes. He could identify with that. Despite having Pam, the bar, women falling all over him and begging him to bite them, ravish them, pleasure them...to say it wasn't enough would sound ungrateful. Then again, at over a thousand, one had very little to be surprised and grateful about. He had been dead a long time. He just didn't care for much. Nothing excited him or intrigued him anymore. Until her.

Her scent was changing around him. It was becoming something more neutral. He saw his own prejudice melting away. Counting memories one by one – this took awhile, for he had a vast multitude of them – his only other contact with witches and wizards had been when he witnessed them kill in the harsh battlefield – when his Maker Godric was still showing him the ways of being a dead man walking. Then he'd read about the medieval witch burnings and his hatred for them grew. Godric had taught him that those creatures, they weren't like vampires. Yes, they too dealt death, but they could not sustain body animatronics. They could not 'bring people back from the dead'. They, the vampire, were a superior race and still the witches and wizards stole them. Ravaged them. Robbed them of their numbers. Indeed, years of experience later taught him otherwise, but at the time, Eric had only been a 'baby' vampire. He was receptive to every detail his Maker told him. And he believed it all.

So his image of the wizarding community had been greatly warped. He didn't know both sides. He imagined he knew why Bill was not so affronted by Hermione's so-called 'smell'. He was an accepting simpleton at times, but Eric had to admit – although not to Bill directly – that perhaps being accepting was not always a bad thing.

However, he was not soft. He knew he had nothing to apologise for. These people he was planning to capture – be it allied or against – he had every reason to be suspicious of. Hermione probably did not understand the importance of Eric's position as Sheriff. At least, not yet, for she was in no danger. Once she saw the real casualties in this war she would know.

He then decided he had better knock on her door. Not to crawl back to her, although not to enforce authority either. It was simply to call a truce to work for both their advantages. He had an idea that was very plausible.

He rapped on her door thrice.

"Go away."

In this, he was reminded that she was a mere child.

"I have a proposition that might interest you. It concerns your magical friends."

And with the right leverage, anything was possible.

Hermione cracked the door open a minute fraction. "Well, what is it?"

Were her eyes bloodshot or was it just the dim lighting?

"Promise to help me and I promise to keep them here with you, rather than in the Fangtasia basement prison."

It was a very blunt statement, but she was listening. He could almost see the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and her ears perk up.

"So what I hypothesised was true," she said softly. "You would have locked them up."

"You'd thank me later if these weren't your comrades," Eric answered snappily, although he was not angry at her.

They were quiet for awhile. Eric soon thought that he had better left her alone now – it was three in the morning and she probably was not used to staying up this late.

She surprised him though when she suddenly spoke. "I too have a proposition," Hermione whispered. "It's dangerous, life-threatening, against the laws of physics and really dodgy, but it's the best that I've got. We need to take a closer look at a body before we come to any more conclusions. What I said tonight definitely shocked everyone and I realise I can't explain anything unless I find some evidence."

"What is this plan of yours?"

Hermione disappeared into her room for a minute and came back with a little tumbler of bubbling sludge. It was an insalubrious colour – deep mud brown – and it looked thick as wet cement. It smelt awful too.

Eric guardedly took a step back. "What on earth is that?"

"It's called Polyjuice Potion," Hermione explained, her eyes suddenly glittering with excitement. "I mixed this a month ago when I was practising my Potion-making skills. If done right, you can keep it for up to six months under the right conditions."

"Well, what does it do?" Eric asked cautiously, his eyes still fixated on the little cup in Hermione's hand.

"I'm getting to that. It allows me to transform into anyone I want. To take their likeness."

Instantly, Eric's eyes were on hers. She carefully sucked in a long breath at his sudden interest.

"W-well, only for an hour," she stumbled. "That's how long a non-lethal intake of the potion can give me – one hour. And I need hairs from whoever I'm changing into. I say hairs because it's the easiest DNA strand to be extracted from a human."

She inhaled deeply before continuing. "I was thinking of morphing myself into the Shreveport coroner. What better way to view a dead body than to get to the very heart of authority."

Already she could see the cogs reanimate in Eric's head. He was greatly considering this.

"I can have my people locate the coroner for you," Eric nodded. "We're quicker and silent. We'll be able to get it with ease. I do have to ask, you plan on going into the morgue alone? What happens if you need some help?"

"Well, you and Bill can't go with me, I plan to go during the day when it's less suspicious for a coroner to hang around," Hermione shrugged. "I suppose Sookie-"

"What about turning into the night-time coroner?" Eric suggested. "People die at night too."

"I actually didn't think of that!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. "That works too..."

"You would still have access to all the bodies that are still in the morgue," Eric supposed. "And all their records."

It was plain weird, not coming up with all of this during the actual meeting they had and instead talking over it outside Hermione's bedroom later on. It wasn't at all as counterproductive as Eric had predicted, though.

"We'll need the actual coroner out of the way when I go in. Knock him unconscious or something," Hermione reminded. "Just...don't kill him, okay?"

She glanced warily at Eric.

"Wouldn't it be easier if I went in instead?" Eric quickly implored, clearly avoiding Hermione's request. He didn't want to make promises he could not keep.

"I know the potion only works for human to human transformations. Seeing as you're already dead, though, I'm not sure if that will pose a problem. We want to get to the bottom of this promptly so I don't want to risk it. I've had friends try the Polyjuice Potion I've made, and it...has worked."

Hermione decided to leave out the fact that she herself had turned into half-cat.

"If you say so," Eric murmured. "I'll be your guard on the night itself."

"You can't come into the building with me," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"I'll wait in the car," Eric shrugged. "Just scream if you need anything."

That almost sounded like a joke. Hermione smiled slightly but faltered again.

"What of Bill and Sookie?" She didn't want them involved if she could help it, especially not Sookie.

"I'll have a talk with Bill," Eric offered. "I know where your concerns lie, so we'll just make sure Sookie is out of harm's way. Even though I know she'd try to help you out anyway. She is indoctrinated with the belief that you need more protecting than she does. Just because she has a vampire for a boyfriend."

He gave a bit of a mirthless chuckle. Hermione sighed a little indignantly, but resignedly at that fact. Sookie played such a mother hen sometimes. She found a smile break her stoic expression once again, though.

"I almost can't believe we kind of have a plan," she remarked.

Eric laughed. "Neither can I."

That was easier than I thought, he smiled to himself.

"I'll try to get you what you need within the next forty-eight hours," he said after awhile.

"That'd be fine, thanks..."

She seemed like she wanted to say something. She was wavering on the precipice of speech, and yet nothing seemed to want to come out. It was all stuck halfway. Eric and Hermione simply stood there, staring at each other for the longest time, fighting with words they were unsure of. Finally, though, they gave up and lost the battle. For now. Eric turned to leave abruptly just as Hermione slammed the door shut without saying goodnight. Good day.


A/N: This might be full of mistakes because it's unbeta-ed haha, but I'll fix it up as I reread it some other time. Enjoy :)

That being said, I'm going on a bit of a writing hiatus as of now. I haven't actually been writing at all lately, and I don't want people thinking I'm going to be updating weekly at this point when it's obvious I'm having a lot of trouble. I don't want to force myself to write a chapter because then I would never be pleased with it. I'm very sorry about this development, but hopefully this break won't last very long. I'll try to be back as soon as I can. All you readers and reviewers have been absolutely wonderful and all your support is very much appreciated!