In how many ways do I love thee? Too many, far too many! Your amazing reviews definitely helped jar me out of my writer's block. The support, wishes, encouragement, chanting, emotional blackmails, requests, death threats and offers for psychiatric evaluations/medication all helped dramatically ;) I just hope you find the resultant chapters worth it! My gratitude to these recent reviewers (in order of reviewing): EverAfter13, Fantasy Trickster, Jade2099, caseyjarryn, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, xxDracoDragonxx, ebbe04, The nameless soul, margaritama, brandonlov, kavii, ginnylovesharry07, Swimming-Gal, tfobmv18, Cb623, blueidpanda, Liz16, JillianUnleashed, lily, ?, evenstar101, Italian Rose, squash, nathy7, ladydraco79, AmberBrightEyes, HarryPGinnyW4eva, DaOnLeeSam, Bee-z05, MissMally, Li0n3ss, mentarisenja, Frozen Darkness, Dianafefe1, lovelyru, steff.c, rats, Simkey, mw87, Lilmissxx, blueskyshymoon08, Slytherinchica08, iampast1, Pixie-Fate, kee, Coeur de l'amour, scarlettcat, Tiff, jadeskullz, spikeecat, SolarGuardianChick and Jufuzle19
~For the Twilighters among my dear readers, a wink in the direction of the , there are various descriptions in pop culture, on how a vampire is sired. For the purpose of this fic, I chose to stick to the theory that the victim needs to bite back the vampire and drink the vampire's blood, to be turned. The Twilight/ Buffy version (changing into a Vampire by being bitten alone) doesn't work here.
~Credit to the ammmmazing Li0n3ss for betaing this chapter. I am most grateful for her support since day one of posting this fic. She was one of the first reviewers who encouraged me to continue VS abandoning a possibly futile effort. She has reviewed every single chapter since. It may not mean much to many, but it means more than I could thank her for. Once again, I find myself indebted to this very talented lady. Her depiction of a hard-ass Hermione in her story, single-handedly prevented my Hermione from becoming a simpering wimp (I hope!). The other day I even dreamed of her hilarious birthday cake one-shot ;) I have changed this chapter since her betaing, so mistakes are all mine!
On this portal of fanfic, I am thankful and humbled at how easily, you, we, from possibly divergent countries, can become the sincerest of pals. We only have to give each other a chance. Now, if only our leaders read fanfic too, we could have a more peaceful world!
The Coalescing of Odd Facts
"Draco?! What happened?"
Fallen supine, lying still on her bed, Draco opened one weary eye; as if, it was all the stamina he could muster.
"Vampires..."
"Did you bite it back?" Hermione panicked. If Draco had tasted the Vampire's blood, he could be changing into one this very moment, as the blood spread through his veins and beat through his heart!
"No, Mi. Not turning into a vamp any… soon. Venom," Draco pointed at the many open puncture wounds on his arm and one on the side of his neck. His face and exposed body displayed additional battle marks; sharp cuts, jagged wounds, scrapes and the beginnings of large bruises. Through his torn shirt, Hermione could see a deep gash on his chest. Were those scratches from a vampire's nails? The torn-sleeve bandage on his arm was black, so she couldn't tell how much blood he had lost, and how much of the venom had spread. His blue lips and greying pallor were not a reassuring indication. At his most tanned, Draco looked pale as a Vampire himself. Presently, he looked like death resurrected.
"Let me help you up, I'll slide you along to St Mungo's."
"No. You or Snape." Draco winced and abandoned the attempt to shake his head.
"Draco you need medical attention. I know basic healing, but you have vampire venom coursing through your veins. One bite I could have dealt with, even two, but these are too many! You could be paralysed in minutes! Merlin knows how many times this vampire bit you. I don't have potent enough potions with me. Let me call a healer home."
Hermione started to rise but Draco's hand landed on her wrist, holding her down. She was surprised at the strength of his tone and his grip, before it slackened in exhaustion. "Granger, no."
When Draco spoke again, it was in short, pained tones. "Floo… Snape… five."
"Five what?"
"Five vampires."
Hermione sucked in a deep breath before rushing to her fireplace downstairs. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to have stored a large enough supply of potions at home. She cursed herself for not having a fireplace in her bedroom. Draco was alone up there and her anxiety rose, overwhelmingly, with each step away.
Casting some Floo powder into the fire, Hermione shouted clearly, "Professor Snape's chambers, Hogwarts."
Hermione ducked her head into the flames, neither eager to leave her flat, nor ready to invade the privacy of the ascetic man's private sanctum. "Professor Snape? Professor Snape?" Hermione waited for a few seconds before shouting his name again. No lights turned on. No sounds of surprise, none of welcome.
Snape's not here!! No one is!!!
Hermione retracted her head and sat kneeling on the hard floor, her head resting on the brick fireplace. She felt bile and panic rising. It took her a moment to remember that Hogwarts was closed for summer vacations, with children having returned home during the third week of June. Many of the graduating class had already found jobs and moved out of Ashram.
"Professor Snape's house, Spinner's End," Hermione shouted at the Floo and leaned in even before the flames turned green, singing her hair that overpowering flavour of burnt keratin.
"Professor Snape, if you are here, please… Draco is seriously injured. Professor? Please be here."
Hermione heard the blessed scrape of furniture and then, hasty footsteps. From behind the screen that segregated the fireplace from the room, appeared a pair of well-shaped, bare feet. Her eyes followed the long legs clad in simple dark blue pyjamas. That the Potions Master was not encased in a cloak was somehow unsettling. Snape sans billowing garment was oddly less iconic, though no more convivial.
"Ms Granger?" His mordant drawl concealed any concern he may have felt.
"Professor," Hermione sped through her request breathlessly, "Draco has multiple vampire bites and other wounds. Five vampires. I have not yet inspected for internal injuries. He refuses to go to St Mungo's and asked for you. Could you please Floo to my flat as soon as you have collected the appropriate potions? I'll leave the connection open. Please?"
Hermione found herself noticing Snape's paling face; worry now lined his forehead and thinned his lips. His nod was the only acknowledgement she received before he turned sharply and disappeared behind the screen.
It dawned on Hermione belatedly that she had been allowed to open a connection to Snape's private quarters, and was taken aback that the recluse, at some point in his life, had deemed her worthy of that access.
Hermione rushed back up to Draco, recalling pertinent contents from two books that she had recently read on vampires.
The vampire's venom anaesthetises its victims. Even before that though, it inhibits the production of adrenaline in the human body. Then, it stimulates the release of endorphins, inducing in the victim the delusion of a 'high'. This may explain, to an extent, the fascination that some humans ensconce for the terrifying creatures, even offering themselves up to be vassals to provide a continued source of blood. In this way, the venom imbibes in the victim a state of benumbed semi-consciousness; making it easy for the vampire to hunt an evasive prey.
In the event of multiple bites, from multiple vampires, the significant over-dosage of venom usually proves to be lethal for the hapless quarry. The odds are not in the favour of a human when more than one vampire deigns to feed from a single body. If miraculously, the wounded is rescued from said situation, the potent cocktail of venom can still cause shock, paralysis, coma or death.
How had Draco ended up in a fracas with the vampires? She ignored the many pieces of an undefined jigsaw, falling wilfully into place.
Leave it be for now, for Draco's sake.
Hermione determinedly cleared her head from the assault of reflections and conclusions. She scanned the catatonic Draco with her wand for internal bleeding and broken bones. There were three; a broken rib, a hair-line fracture on his shin and a dislocated shoulder.
She did not hear Snape arrive by Floo, nor did he make a sound ascending the staircase, but she heard him hesitate outside her bedroom's open door. She turned to him and nodded. Her room seemed to shrink in Snape's presence, as he transfigured a pillow into a worktable for himself, laying out several odd-shaped bottles and jars. One of the transparent large jars had live leeches swimming restlessly. By now, the state of affairs had taken on a nightmarish quality. Draco, lying injured, once again, like in seventh year. This time Snape come to attend. She wanted to leave; she did not want to see Draco's blood, especially this soon after Blueberry's. This was not supposed to happen. She was not ready.
"Ms Granger, you may assist me if you believe yourself capable of following undemanding instructions without a tome to refer. However, if you propose to remain this absurdly ineffective, you will leave now and send me Draco's house elf. I have little patience for foolish sentimentality and none for torpid inaction."
Why can't these Slytherins talk like nomal people?
At least, Hermione observed, the man's derision had shaken her out of her futile panic. Twice in her lifetime had such dread immobilised her. Both times, the catalyst had been the spectacle of Draco's blood.
Snape asked Hermione to decontaminate Draco's wounds. Hermione vanished Draco's clothes to cleanse the injuries with both spells and the tincture that Snape supplied without comment or reaction. He began to stir a potion into a salve, quietly, with unreserved concentrations. Soon the resultant mixture emitted a faint blue glow that Hermione distinguished with ease. This was the Solio serum, a potion that emitted ultra-violet rays invisible to the naked eye; rays that were lethal to the bacteria residing in vampire venom.
"Drinking this will cause ulcers, severe heartburn and stomach ache tomorrow." Snape also enumerated the side effects of the salve that he applied over the bites and scratches, as Draco grunted in disapproval. "The topical salve will bring forth symptoms of sunburn; burning, itching and redness." The older man looked almost amused now, "Mister Malfoy will survive the bites, but his fragile vanity may not."
The self-possessed man then opened his jar of leeches, removing several creatures with tweezers, to lay them near the bite-sites. Draco winced, growled at Snape and finally surrendered to unconsciousness.
"The Dark Lord and vampires out for blood, he can take. Leeches? He faints. Fascinating." Snape's stoic face featured immoral delight at this unexpected reward for services tendered.
Hermione had no doubt that the Slytherin snake in Snape would hold this weakness over his former student, for a long time to come. She, on the other hand, could understand why the leeches were one trauma too many for Draco. Hermione shuddered but refrained from protesting. The scientific, Muggle-born part of her rebelled against the idea of leeches being attached to her Draco's body, but she knew the venom-infected blood needed to be sucked out. Medieval Muggle medicasters and mountebank barber-surgeons had foolishly undertaken an imitation of the treatment, draining blood employing uninformed, aggressive quackery with fatal results.
Hermione wrapped her arms around her griping stomach as she rocked to and fro on the balls of her feet.
It's all right… He'll be fine… They are necessary…Therapeutic blood-letting… by a leech… using judicious precautions… under responsible, well-informed supervision… can be beneficial… it has been practiced for… thousands of years… safely. Snape is responsible… Snape is well informed. Snape knows what he is doing. Now, breathe… slowly, inhale to count of six… exhale, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Inhale…
Each leech would suck out around five millilitres of blood over half an hour or so, and then release it's multi-jawed, parasitic hold, when replete. The leech's saliva, Hermione knew, contained anaesthetics, vasodilators and anti coagulants; to numb, increase blood flow and prevent clotting. The wound would continue to slowly seep, draining around hundred and fifty millilitres of blood from each site for ten or more hours.
Snape straightened from over Draco to examine Hermione's pale face. "Do try to reign in your joy, Miss Granger," he sneered. "The leeches are attached to the veins. We need to ensure that Mister Malfoy is being given the Blood-Replenishing potion every half hour for the next ten hours. That should flush tainted blood out and prevent infections. Evanesco the leeches as they fall off. The bandages you apply over the leech bites will need to be changed every hour. Do you require some potion for yourself? Some brandy, perhaps?"
Hermione shook her head slowly. Snape handed her bandages and she dressed the vampire bites on Draco's porcelain skin, while Snape observed with a critical eye. When she was finished, Snape nodded. "Adequate. Have you contacted Narcissa Malfoy?"
Hermione was taken by aback, "No, unfortunately, it did not occur to me to send her an owl."
Snape's expression changed from blank to indecipherable. "Perhaps that is fortuitous. I doubt Draco desires to perturb his mother. He will inform her as he deems necessary."
Snape scanned the room, his expression reminiscent of his distaste over examining an ill-prepared potion from Neville's cauldron. "I should remain accessible for the next few hours, but do not care to impose."
Hermione could appreciate his awkwardness in her bedroom. "It is we who inconvenienced you. Your presence here gives me the utmost reassurance. No one could have attended to Draco's health better. Thank you."
Snape's acceptance of her gratitude was a shrewd gaze and an almost imperceptible nod.
Hermione showed the Snape to the guest bedroom and returned to resume her vigil next to Draco. Though providing first-aid and preliminary healing for creature-related injuries was a prerequisite for her job, one Hermione was skilled at, she did not have unlimited access to the innumerable concoctions of a Potion Master. Snape's remedy stock was legendary. Even the healers at St Mungo's sometimes, diffidently, approached him for complex potions to cure rare conditions. Even if it came ladled with the acerbic sarcasm, Hermione felt a calm reassurance in the man's proximity.
It was nearing three in the morning, when she sat down next to Draco; the first opportunity for quietude since he had apparated into her room. Hermione finally let her random observations coalesce. She had long suspected that Draco and Harry were hiding something, but kept her nose at bay, for all their sakes. This, however, this showing up bloodied and near lifeless, required looking into. It begged investigating.
Little instances nudged themselves into Hermione's consciousness as she spent the remainder of the night going through the vampire psychology sections of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires by Eldred Worple and Voyages With Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart.
They had thought Hermione had indulged in a school-girl crush on Gilderoy Lockhart for his affected charm.
Libellous, completely unimaginative!
Hermione reluctantly admitted to her person that her younger, ignorant self had fantasized about making house with the much older professor… but one had to understand… he had written so many books! Hermione had supposed him to have lived the knowledge, not stolen it from obliviated souls!
Regardless of the form of procurement of knowledge and the unmerited glory accredited to his self, the facts in Lockhart's books were sound. The information about vampires, reported in Voyages was based on the stolen diary of a Muggle teenaged girl near Seattle, who had fallen in love with a 'vegetarian' vampire. That teenager, now a vampire herself, was a celebrity in magical United States, deeply respected for her work. She had helped bring accord between vampire clans and traditionally adversarial werewolf tribes; even campaigned for improved rights for werewolves in America. This was a cause close to Hermione's heart. Unlike her many predecessors, Hermione had actively sought to regulate werewolf concerns. She had loathed the bureaucratic oversight of decades past when werewolves were unduly shunted between departments, on classification semantics, from 'Beasts' to 'Beings' to 'Magical Creatures'. Hermione had reversed the discriminatory anti-werewolf legislation that Dolores Umbridge had championed in her glory days; that legislation had made it near impossible for werewolves to gain respectable employment.
That horrid Umbridge stole futures away from so many. If she hadn't been so prejudiced, poor Professor Lupin and Vrede could have had decent lives!
Dingane Vrede was a tall, skinny man of South African descent and an indeterminate age. A muggle, he had been thrown into the magical world after being bitten by a werewolf while he was backpacking across Europe. His lycanthropy and lack of magic had precluded him from assimilating into both, the muggle and wizarding worlds. A survivor, he had carved out a niche for himself in the nebulous, uncharted, ill regulated and mostly illicit alleys between the two. Hermione had learnt of him after becoming the head of DRMC, and been able to empathise with his situation better, for having known Remus Lupin. Allegations of misconduct against Vrede included the smuggling of goods between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Charges were dropped after Hermione found little proof of the items being any more pernicious than glowing protection trinkets for children, mild 'performance potions' for older men and the most noxious of all, paraben saturated cosmeceuticals for women. Strictly speaking, the act was illegal, but Hermione had learned many greys during the war. In the large scheme of things, an age-defying Co Q10 cream was not enough to ruin an already bereft life.
Hermione sighed and forced herself to focus on speed-reading the book Slaying Vampires by Adam Fenwick. This final revision would be imperative for what was to come.
As soon as it was a decent time, Hermione prepared tea for Snape and carried it up with a croissant, knocking on his door. Snape opened it within a few seconds. His drawn features canvassed another pair of tired eyes that had not slept a wink the previous night.
"I hope you were comfortable?" Hermione enquired politely.
When Snape just stared at her with a raised brow, Hermione continued, "Draco was fine through the night. Professor, I wonder if it is too much to ask… could you please remain with Draco for the day? I need to check on things in the Ministry."
Snape displayed neither surprise nor reaction, as he accepted the tray from Hermione and followed her to the master bedroom.
Hermione Flooed to the Potter residence and found it empty. She Flooed to the Burrow and found Molly and Arthur having their morning cuppa quietly in the kitchen.
Molly stood up immediately. "Oh, Hermione! Good to see you, dear. What news of Harry?"
Hermione disregarded Mr Weasely's gestured invitation to take a seat. She had a suspicion she would be leaving soon.
"I was hoping for news of them."
"Ah," Arthur sighed, "we thought you came from St Mungo's. Harry came home injured last night. Nasty Auror business."
Molly picked up the conversation. "Ginny asked us to bring the children here while she stayed with him at the hospital. He should be able to return home today. Thank Merlin it was not worse!" Molly leaned tiredly against the table before gingerly taking a seat, her body reflecting, for once, her elderly age.
That the Daily Prophet carried no mention of the Harry Potter being injured, indicated to Hermione that the details were being guarded and deemed classified. As Head of the Department of Relations to Magical Creatures, and as Hermione Granger, she ought be able to pry open some doors. Hermione Flooed to St Mungo's. There, she found Aurors posted outside Harry's room. Thomas Briverion had been a few years their junior at Hogwarts and they had remained friendly. Hermione commandeered Thomas away from the other Auror, out of earshot.
"How is he, Tom?"
Thomas looked exhausted. "Recovering. Sleeping. Ginny is in there with him. She would be happy to see you, I'm sure. We are not allowed to let visitors in, but if you can prove your identity to me, I could let you. I know you aren't anyone else with Polyjuice, but you understand we have to be careful, I'm sure."
Hermione's unwavering gaze pierced through Thomas, for long enough to make him fidget. "I tutored you in Potions. That enabled you to achieve the required grades for the Auror apprenticeship program."
Thomas smiled awkwardly. "Go on in, then."
To his evident surprise, Hermione refused. "I did not need to prove my identity to enter this room and you know it. If I wanted to, I could have just breezed in and you couldn't have barred me. You are trying to follow all security protocols. I appreciate the excellent vigilance, despite you being this tired. Were you hurt last night with the vampires?"
Thomas tilted his head and shrugged. "No, I wasn't hurt, I was on lookout duty at Ashram." Thomas appeared mildly bitter about being left out of the action.
Hermione patted his hand comfortingly. "Harry and Draco should take larger teams in."
Thomas groused in adamant agreement, "I keep telling them that. They insisted they wanted to do this on their own… that they didn't want to scare…" he gasped in shock. "Who told you?" Belatedly realising he had divulged too much, Thomas clamped his lips together, contrite.
Hermione scanned the corridor quickly. "You just did. We ought not discuss the details here. I'll go in and check on Harry."
"Hermione, you'll get me fired if anyone finds out. I'm sure!" Thomas whispered in shock.
"Then no one should find out, should they, Briverion? I'll see you at ten in my office. I believe with Harry and Draco relenting their constant arm-twisting of Shacklebolt, I will be ever more involved in the operation."
Hermione's claim came from certain knowledge. She had no doubt that Draco and Harry had compelled the Minister to exclude her. She was, after all, the most qualified person for the job and Shacklebolt trusted her unreservedly, as evident from the various responsibilities and positions that she had earned at a very young age. Before Draco had caused pandemonium in her personal and professional lives.
Mayhem… Absolute bedlam!
Hermione quietly walked into the private room to find Ginny sleeping in a chair next to Harry's bed, their hands entwined. Harry's face and bandaged chest looked as battle-torn as Draco's. Hermione felt a rush of blood and rage reach her brain. Someone had DARED attack the men in her lives. They were going to pay.
Hermione softly closed the door behind her as she exited to find the healer-in-charge, who offered a reassuring prognosis of Harry's speedy recovery. She flooed to the Ministry, knowing Shacklebolt would be in his office. Draco was recuperating at her flat and she would like to be there for him, but Snape was nothing, if not proficient. If at all Draco needed a woman's nurturing, Snape knew where to find Narcissa. Hermione had some stakes to sharpen.
As much as she abhorred violence of any kind, towards any creature, Hermione acknowledged that Vampires on a killing rampage deserved no compassion. They had abused all previous efforts at a peaceful solution. There was no other way.
Hermione marched purposefully into the Minister's office.
"Hermione! Thank Merlin you are here. I just sent you an owl, did you receive it already?"
Hermione sat down on the chair that Shacklebolt indicated.
"Minister, you know I have the utmost respect for you. Your decisions in the past few months, however, I consider less than exemplary. We have a hostile vampire pack in Britain, and you chose to keep me, the head of the appropriate department, in the dark? Why would you do that? Don't you trust me to do my job? I have never felt more insulted!"
Shacklebolt looked embarrassed as he waved his door closed and set up privacy wards. "Hermione, it isn't how it looks. I trust you completely. Harry refused to let you get involved. As the Head of the Auror department, and well, as Harry Potter, his demands hold weight, you know? Besides, the sheer numbers were against you. Your department, with twenty odd members, does not have the manpower or combat training to prevail over the kind of infestation we suspect it has become. We would have needed forty or so Aurors anyway, but Harry categorically refused to be involved, unless you were kept out. I may be the Minister, but that man has some serious browbeating skills. If it helps, I'll be the first to admit that I went against my better judgement on this."
Hermione speculated on that. "You don't mention Draco in your excuses. You know, of course, where Draco is. The Auror on sentry duty outside my flat isn't exactly inconspicuous."
Shacklebolt nodded. "Yes, Rainsott reported unusual activity in your flat last night. We have also been monitoring the Floo at Hogwarts to ensure Hogwarts safety and knew you had tried to contact Snape."
"Then please tell me Minister, why is Draco not at the hospital right now? Why is he being treated by the Hogwarts Potions Master, at my flat?"
Shacklebolt was one of the most self-assured and polished personalities that Hermione knew, but currently his lips were pursed and an uncomfortable grimace marred his usually cheerful face. He shook his head in a disgruntled reply.
Hermione sensed a pattern. "Is it a secret you have to hide? Are you under oath?"
Shacklebolt lit up like a bulb and smiled, staring straight into Hermione's eyes.
"Draco's injuries can not be made public because then people will know he was with Harry?"
Shaklebolt whistled an indistinguishable tune, face straight, eyes trained on Hermione.
"So Draco was helping Harry on this mission."
Shaklebolt had paused his whistling for the duration of Hermione's question, but resumed again.
"This wasn't the only time though, that Draco has helped on Auror missions, was it?" Hermione thought back to all the peculiarities in Draco and Harry's behaviour over the past few months. Facts she had filed away, very neatly in her mind, labelled "Draco's Oddities."
Draco had been involved with the vampire sting in Australia. She tried to recall the details of that conversation. She had come away thinking he had left much unsaid.
Draco's tour to Europe had transpired, coincidentally, when there was news of a vampire rebellion there.
Draco had been reluctant to announce their relationship because of 'danger' from the people that he worked with. Harry had objected to their relationship, for no reason other than Draco's 'work' requiring him to fraternise with the unsavoury sort.
Quidditch would not require Draco to socialise with vampires. Malfoy Inc? Maybe.
Draco was in perennial contact with Harry. Draco had been almost imprisoned in Italy. Instead of passing judgements, as he was prone to do, Harry had been concerned that Draco would be tired from busy days.
There were more, the oddities file was large indeed, but there were pages she could now reorganise into another, new file.
"Valentine's day… the vampire sting operation in Australia. That singer, J Lo, she was a front for Draco. Draco wasn't a front for her. She provided false alibi."
Shacklebolt looked impressed and stopped whistling.
"Draco conveniently manages to take his team to whichever part of the World that Aurors need investigated. When he landed in that jail in Italy, was he spying for the Ministry?"
The Minister blinked once.
Hermione gasped. "Draco has been spying for the Ministry all these years, and no one told me?"
The Minister rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly.
"Is Draco an Auror?"
Kingsley Shasklebolt broke eye contact for the first time since Hermione had begun her inquisition. His gaze wavered towards one of his walls, the purple one that was decorated with many pictures and awards.
"So, Draco isn't an Auror."
Shacklebolt's head rotated back towards Hermione but he didn't meet her gaze; instead he inspected his short, clean, well-buffed nails.
"But he does help out with these missions on a frequent basis."
Shacklebolt moved his hands in a circle around each other, as if miming her to move on.
"The vampire attack last night, was in Britain?"
Direct eye contact resumed.
"Vicot Esway. He is a vampire, isn't he?"
Shacklebolts eyebrows rose in surprise.
"It was something Zara said. That Esway asked her to invite him in for tea, but when she didn't and went in to get Rosemary, he disappeared. He could have walked in as a former student, a security breach we have since corrected… but he had to wait for an invitation to enter Ashram, because he did not call it his domicile anymore. The other vampires in the offence, were any more of them former Ashram residents?"
The Minister was sombre.
"It was that rebel group that Draco almost had thrown out, wasn't it? Raza, Fargo, Vicot and Nethaniel."
The Minister blinked once then closed his eyes, then opened them again and blinked once.
"I am partly right?"
Unbroken eye contact.
Hermione rubbed her forehead in fatigue. She had not slept after Draco's appearance in her flat last night. There was so much to do, so much to organise, and yet a part of her simply wanted to return home to sit holding Draco's hand. She ruthlessly shook the cobwebs from her head.
"Do you have a plan to proceed, Minister? The Creature Containment section of my department has perfected these wood-stake pistols that can be used from a distance quite efficiently. Depending on the part of the anatomy targeted, the wood bullets will neutralize vampires, if not immediately slay them."
Shacklebolt jumped up from his chair in enthusiasm and walked around the desk to stand next to Hermione.
"Hermione, you are good! Excellent, even! Here's the situation so far…"
~o~
PS: I do not support OR oppose 'leeching' in real life.
For those of you who didn't see Draco's involvement with the Aurors, coming, YAY! For those of you that did, YAY! I want to know if my ploys worked. When you review, and please do, tell me if you were …
A) Excited that you saw this coming
B) Pleasantly surprised by some of the revelations
C) Disappointed at the predictability
D) Other
Thank you!!!
Diagonally