I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.
It was an odd night, to be sure. But not for the reasons one might think. After the introductory dinner between the two families, the group of friends all managed to steal away a few snatches of time to talk amongst themselves. Constance was shocked to recieve an overwhelming outpour of apologies. Fred practically manhandled her away from George to give her a huge bear hug while declaring how awesome it was that his 'future sister-in-law' had such great connections. He then made sure that she knew he wasn't the least bit angry or upset with her - only with his brother for, in his own words: 'Being a stupid prat who broke all the basic rules of 'twinness'. With all the other stuff going on, being worried about Fred Weasley's opinion of her hadn't been incredibly high on Connie's list, but knowing that she had his approval did wonders for her spirit. Harry then jumped in with his own downtrodden apology. He remembered how she had been there for him when word about him being a parselmouth spread around the school. He had promised to do the same if something similar happened to her and in his opinion, he hadn't done a very good job of making good on his words. Even Ginny rushed to say her piece and gave her a hug. Ron looked incredibly uncomfortable with himself and remained silent for the most part. Constance half wondered if he was upset with her for going off on him. But after being given a hard elbow to the ribs and a pointed look from Hermione to spur him forward, he shuffled his feet and mumbled something about acting stupid the night before. It was then that the girl realized that he was either ashamed of himself or felt foolish for talking about something he knew nothing about. He actually refused to look her in the face until she stepped toward him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Ron." she said slowly, trying not to show how amused she was by how he was acting. "We've been friends for a long time, so I've pretty much figured out that you can't help freaking out and saying dumb things. It's okay."
The boy went still and stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she were serious, then huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh, go on then." he said in an irritated voice. "I came out and said I was stupid, and you turn it into a joke."
Connie couldn't help but smile. He was acting so upset, but she could tell he wasn't truly mad. He always hated being put on the spot.
"I wasn't expecting you to." she admitted. She shot a glance toward Hermione, noting how she was watching them intently, and lowered her voice. "She threatened to hurt you, didn't she?"
"What do you think?" Ron asked. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you girls are bloody nightmares to deal with. If one of you isn't upset and going off about something, the other one is."
Hermione planted her hands on her hips defensively. "Well, if you didn't act like a brainless toddler, no one would have to nag at you all the time, would they?" she said snippily.
"Bloody hell, I was a bit distraught at the time!" he protested. "Give me a break!"
Constance decided right there that if they were bickering like they always did, then it was going to be okay.
Unfortunately, they weren't given much more conversation time. Mrs. Weasley came around to Harry's room - where they had all holed up - and declared that they needed to disperse to their own rooms and go to bed. It had been a long day and no one had gotten much sleep lately, she said. Her husband was there as well and while it was obvious from his expression that he didn't have a problem with them staying up, he wasn't about about to stand in her way. Her tone was perfectly neutral, but Connie couldn't help but get the impression that she was nervous about her being there. It could have just been her imagination, but the woman wouldn't look directly at her except for a brief passing glance. No one really wanted to start an argument over such a small thing, so they split up and did as they were told with only a small amount of grumbling. But before Constance was able to leave, Hermione grabbed her hand.
"I've been out for a long time and I'm not really tired." she told Mrs. Weasley in a diplomatic tone of voice. She glanced back at Connie. "I... don't want to keep you awake, but I'd like some company for a while. If you don't mind."
The girl knew what she was doing and gave her hand an understanding squeeze. "I don't mind at all." she assured her. "You wouldn't be keeping me awake."
Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together in a tight line. Not upset really, but there was defintely some disapproval there. "Hermione dear, I don't think that's..."
"That's just fine." Mr. Weasley interrupted before she could finish. He came up behind his wife and put a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a look before turning back to the girls. "You two go on. Just try not to stay up too late."
"Oh, we wont." Hermione told him. "And we'll be quiet, I promise."
Connie wanted to sigh in relief. He was going to allow it. Mrs. Weasley was shaking her head as he gently led her away, but she didn't argue with him. The girl couldn't make out all of their whispered conversation, but it sounded like Mr. Weasley was saying something about everything being okay and leaving them alone. Reassuring her, for whatever reason. Hermione pulled Constance along into her bedroom and closed the door behing them. The moment they were alone, the girl turned and flung her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Oh, Connie, this is awful!" she exclaimed. "I can understand being taken by surprise, but this is rediculous!" Hermione let go of her and started wringing her hands in agitation. "They told me everything when I woke up. I can't believe..." she stopped and shook her head. "I told every one of them if they didn't apologize I'd never speak to them again. I could beat Ronald to within an inch of his life!"
Constance blinked at her, then grabbed at her hands to get her to settle down. "Hermione, stop." she told her softly. "It's okay."
"No, it's not okay!" she protested, pulling away. "We've all known each other for how long now, and they're suddenly going to act like you're a completely different person because of one thing?"
"Well, it's a bit more than just one thing..."
"Oh, whatever!" Hermione interjected. "You know what I mean! At least the others have straightened up and see reason now. But... Mrs. Weasley is being so..." she shook her head again. "I don't know what the woman's problem is, but she's just going to have to get over it. Not to sound ungrateful because I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for them, but I swear if she says one thing about the two of us being friends she's going to have a fight on her hands!"
She had worked herself up in a tizzy, and there was really nothing to be done but stand back out of the way. Connie watched quietly, half amused and half grateful that she was ranting and raving out of concern for her. Finally, when Hermione crossed her arms over her chest with a deep huff of irritation, she decided it might be safe to speak again.
"Are you finished?" she prodded.
Hermione shot a sideways look in her direction and sighed. "I suppose." she said, allowing herself to slump a bit. She then walked forward and gave her another tight hug. "I don't care. You know that, don't you? None of this changes anything. And..." she pulled back to look at her. "I understand why you didn't say anything, but you could have told me! After the whole thing with Lupin being a wer..."
Connie's eyes widened a hair and one of her fingers flew up to her mouth. "Shush!" she admonished quietly. "Not too loud!"
Hermione immediately shut her mouth and pressed a hand against her lips. "Sorry." she breathed.
The last thing they needed at the moment was for someone to accidentally overhear something about their DADA professor that they shouldn't know about. It would open up a whole other can of worms. Constance blew out a long stream of air.
"I really wanted to tell you." she said. "It's just... Mihnea and I have always had to be really careful about what we do and say and even if we didn't, I'm... not sure that I would have known how."
Hermione bit down on her lower lip and nodded. "I can understand that. With all of this..." she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Is he okay?" she asked, opening them again- this time worriedly. "Mihnea... how bad did I hurt him?"
Connie winced. How was she supposed to respond to that? "Hermione..."
"Please don't try to say I shouldn't be worried about it." the girl interrupted. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, then squared her shoulders. "Connie, I... I can't really remember what happened. I mean... I remember some things, in the beginning, but the rest is just... flashes. Pictures and sounds that don't make any sense. It's driving me insane knowing that I did something terrible without being able to remember it. And now no one will say anything specific and I keep thinking of all the worst things that I could have done... so... please. For my sake, just... tell me."
Her expression was pleading and Constance felt her heart sink down in her chest in sympathy. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be in her shoes. To know something had happened, but not remember the details. If it were her, she might feel more secure at least being told something definite. The imagination, when left on it's own, could come up with horrors far worse than reality if you let it.
"Okay." she agreed slowly. "But you have to promise not to get upset." She waited for Hermione's understanding nod, then took a breath. "I wasn't here when he got back with you, so I didn't hear what all the doctors said about it. All I know for sure is that he had several deep cuts to his left arm. There was some nerve damage and he lost a lot of blood. They stitched everything up and he's been resting in his room ever since. I checked on him today when I first woke up and he was still a little out of it, but he looked better." she gave her a reassuring look. "Mihnea heals extremely fast. Aunt Syn said something about him getting the staples out tomorrow, so the cuts have probably already closed up. He might have some scars, but it was nothing life threatening. When I saw him down in the hospital wing, he was cussing like a sailor and threating to kill the nurses. If he was able to do that, then he'll be fine."
Hermione stared at her with a blank expression while she absorbed all the information. She appeared a wee bit relieved, but still regretful she had been responsible. After a few moments, she slowly inclined her head.
"Okay." she said in slightly shaky voice.
She shook her head for what had to be the hundredth time and walked over to the bed, allowing herself to sink down on the mattress. Her eyes were trained on the floor for a long time with her hands laying limp in her lap. Then they both came up to rub at her face, finally coming to a halt at her cheeks.
"This is happening, isn't it?" she asked. She looked up and stared at the wall over Connie's shoulder for a moment before moving them to her. The look in them was haunting. "Is this real? It doesn't feel real..."
Oh no... A wave of concern rushing over her, Constance went over to sit down on the bed next to her. You were supposed to say something at times like this, weren't you? That would be the right thing to do. To offer wise words of comfort that would make everything better. But... no matter how hard she tried, Connie couldn't come up with anything that sounded right. Nothing was good enough. So instead, she just pulled Hermione's head over to rest on her shoulder and held her. The girl didn't sob or go into hysterics. She hadn't witnessed anything that had transpired when she first woke up, so maybe she had already done that. She was just... quiet. The silence was eerie.
"I feel so stupid." Hermione whispered after several long moments.
Connie's brows furrowed and she petted her hair soothingly. "You're not stupid." she told her. "Sometimes... bad things just happen, no matter what we do. There was nothing you could have done."
The girl sniffed. "Maybe not then, but I could have..." she began in a tone so quiet it was almost a whisper. She gently pulled herself away to sit upright and rubbed at her nose. "I... I have a time-turner. Professor McGonagall gave it to me at the beginning of the year so I'd be able to get to all my classes. I left it at school so it wouldn't get misplaced while I was home, but... Connie, if I had thought to bring it with me, I could use it go back. I could make it so none of this ever happened. But I was stupid, and I left it there! Why didn't I bring it with me?"
Constance went very still. Hermione had a time-turner? She didn't know much about them but from what little she understood, they were heavily regulated by the Ministry. That was how she was able to take multiple classes held at the same time? By going back in time? She pushed those realizations and thoughts to the side to deal with the matter at hand.
"Hermione, listen to me." she said in a firm tone, taking the girl's hands and pulling them into her lap. "I'll admit I don't know much about how those things work, but... aren't time-turners set up where you can only go back so many hours? And even if you could go back that far, what could you do?"
"I could warn them!" she insisted. "I could... wake up my parents... get them out of the house... I could..."
It was heartbreaking, but Connie shook her head. "There were ghouls everywhere, Hermione. If you had left your house, you wouldn't have had any defense. No one would have been able to find you, and if there was the smallest mistake..."
"But I could do something!" Hermione continued to protest, her tone becoming more frantic. "Harry... he said you killed two vampires by yourself! If you could do that, then I could do something to keep my family from..."
"Hermione!" Constance shouted at her, not able to take listening to it anymore. She grabbed the girl's shoulders and gave her a good shake. "Will you listen to yourself? What happened to your parents is horrible. It really is. No one wishes things could be different more than me. But if you went back in time, there is absolutely nothing you'd be able to do to change it. It would probably end up the exact same way or worse, so you just... stop! You'll drive yourself crazy thinking that way!"
Hermione's eyes went wide with shock and stared at her. Connie suddenly realized how tight her grip was and let go of her.
"I'm sorry." she said, wanting to hit herself. That was probably the last thing she should have done. "I didn't mean to snap."
"No... you're right." Hermione told her, speaking slowly. She pressed a hand to her forehead, then shoved her thick mass of hair behind her ears. "I'm not thinking clearly. I know that. I just... I don't know what to do." she looked like she wanted to burst into tears but was holding herself back. "Everything is gone now."
"That's not true." Constance said. She took her hands again. "You still have all your friends. You have a place to go and a family who'll take care of you. I know it's not the same as before, but that's still something, isn't it?"
Hermione sniffed again. "Yes... I suppose it is." She closed her eyes and sighed. "With how Mrs. Weasley is acting now, I'm starting to wonder if going to live with them is such a good idea. What's going to happen if she tries to cut us off? I never would have thought she'd do something like that, but now... I don't know what to think anymore."
That was a possibility that Connie didn't like considering herself, but there was always a chance. "I've been trying not to think about it." she admitted. "I really don't like all of you being put in a weird position because of me, but... honestly, we spend most of our time at school and she can't control what any of us do there." she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "George has already said that if she gets any worse, he'll pack up and leave. If worse comes to worse, you always come with him."
The girl went still and blinked at her. "Do what?" she questioned in astonishment. "He really said that?"
Constance nodded. "We argued about it for a long time, actually. I don't like the idea of him doing something like that, but... he's as stubborn as a damn goat and it's hard to stop him once he's put his mind to something. I eventually gave up trying and told him that if he was going to do it, he might as well just come here."
Hermione continued to stare. "You know if George left, Fred would be right behind him." she pointed out. "You can't separate those two for long."
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, this is a big house so there'd be plenty of room. My mother would probably have an anuerism though."
"Well, it would be strange." the girl agreed. "I can't imagine having your boyfriend randomly show up at your door ready to move in without the parents getting a little upset. Not to mention if his twin brother were with him."
Constance cocked her head to the side for a moment, then understood what she meant. She let out a small laugh. "I actually didn't mean it that way." she told her. At Hermione's curious look, she went on. "We have a running joke in my family that you can't leave any of the men here alone for long or they'll get into trouble. Especially my dad. He's... well, my mom says he's dangerously close to being a pyromanic. He builds homemade pipe bombs and sets them off for fun. With the way Fred and George are, can you imagine what would happen if one of them got their hands on a bomb?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she gaped at her for a moment before her hand flew to her mouth. Then a giggle escaped. Just a tiny one at first, then it grew until she was practically doubled over with laughter.
"Oh my God, is that true?" she asked. "You wouldn't have a house left!"
"Exactly." Connie said in a deadpan tone. "Hence why my mom would have an anuerism. She's very attached to this house, so she would get a bit upset if something happened to it."
Hermione found that so incredibly funny that she laughed and giggled until she could scarcely breathe. It was so good to see a smile on her friend's face again that Constance found herself laughing along as well. They laughed until it felt like everything was normal again. When the giggle fit finally found it's conclusion, Hermione sobered and smoothed out the blankets in front of her.
"Thank you for staying." she told her sincerely. "I wasn't looking forward to being in this big room by myself all night."
"You know I don't mind." Connie replied, giving her a small push. "And it's not that big."
One of Hermione's brows went up incredulously. "Not that big?" she gestured at the space around them. "Connie, this room is bigger than the ones at school!"
Constance stopped and looked around. She had lived in this house all her life, so she really didn't pay attention to details like that. Now that she mentioned it, it was sort of huge...
"Okay, you have a point." she conceeded.
Across from her, Hermione sniffed in approval at having won the argument. She then paused and looked at her sheepishly. "Would you... not tell anyone about the time-turner?" she asked carefully. "Professor McGonagall went to a lot of trouble to get it for me and no one is supposed to know I have it."
Connie shot her a meaningful glance. "Tell who about what?" she questioned. She made a slashing motion across her chest with a finger. "I don't know what you're talking about. Cross my heart. I'm an expert at keeping secrets."
Hermione studied her for a moment, then laughed again. "I guess you would be, wouldn't you?"
They stayed up for a few hours more until Hermione began to feel the first tugs of tiredness creep up on her. Remembering their promise not to stay up too late, Constance left around eleven so she could go to bed. Hermione thought she would have trouble falling asleep with as long as she had been unconscious, but in reality it wasn't difficult at all. Unfortunately, rest didn't come as easily as sleep did. She tossed and turned all night, unable to stay in one position for very long. Awful dreams assaulted her. The word 'nightmare' didn't adequately define them. It was more of a... dark, disturbing confusion. Random images and bits of sound jumbled up in no particular order, making it impossible to determine what was what. Pools of inpenetrable blackness interwoven with blood, glints of light, and booming sounds that made it seem like the world was breaking apart. Then those piercing, glowing eyes and the familiar voice commanding her to sleep...
"Hermione?" a voice questioned. It sounded both soothing and concerned. A warm hand pressed against her forehead. "Hermione, dear, you need to wake up."
The girl bolted upright in bed, wondering if this was some new facet to the dream she'd been swept up in. The moment she opened her eyes her mind went blank, like a slate being wiped clean. She looked around wildly, seeing people in her room. Why were there people in her room?
"Wha... where..." she began, then realized what was going on and where she was. She turned to look at the woman sitting in front of her. "Mrs... Weasley?"
Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together in a concerned frown and she smoothed the damp hair back out of her face. "Yes dear, it's only me." she cooed softly. "It's alright. You were having a nightmare."
Hermione blinked at her in confusion and looked down. Her hands were shaking and her skin was coated with a thin sheen of cold sweat. It must have been awful if someone had come in to wake her up. She didn't remember much of the dream, but she hadn't thought it had been that bad... She looked around again and noted that everyone was in her room. Mr. Weasley was right behind his wife, Harry and Ron were just beyond them - both with worried expressions on their faces - and the twins were standing near the door with a shaken looking Ginny.
"Hermione... are you okay?" Ron asked her in shaky voice.
"I... I think so..." she began. Was her voice really as frail and broken as it sounded to her? She closed her eyes and tried to regain herself. "Why are you in here?"
When her eyes opened again, she saw everyone looking around at each other. It was similar to those nervous looks they had when she first woke up - knowing something, but not sure of whether to say or not. Harry took a small step forward.
"You were screaming." he told her carefully. "We all heard it."
Ron nodded. His face was pale "Bloody hell, it was the scariest thing I've ever heard." he said in a quiet voice. "It sounded like you were being... tortured or something."
Screaming? Hermione wondered. That was disturbing, considering she didn't know what she'd been dreaming about. Maybe it was best that she didn't. She looked forward again as Mrs. Weasley patted at her hands and turned to shoot a dispproving look at Ron.
"Hush. Going on about it won't make it any better." she said firmly before turning back to Hermione. "Don't you worry about it." she consoled. "It was only a dream, nothing more. You're alright."
Mr. Weasley disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and returned with a glass of water. He crouched down next to her. "Drink a little something." he instructed.
Hermione silently took the glass he extended out and sipped at it. The cool liquid helped her nerves settle down a bit. Mrs. Weasley kept one arm around her, while the other continued to pet at her hair.
"There we go." she told her, watching her drink. "That's a good girl. Feel better?"
The girl gave her a small nod. "Yes ma'am." she replied. "I really don't remember anything..." she stopped herself before going too far. She had no desire to dwell on it. "What time is it?"
She was surprised to hear that it was eight fifteen in the morning. Hermione was so used to getting up by seven, she was stunned that she'd actually slept so long. When they saw that she was acting more like herself, the others seemed to calm down. However, Mrs. Weasley kept petting and codling.
"You should probably eat something, dear." she told her. She looked over at her husband. "Surely one of those 'maid' girls would bring something up if we asked?"
The woman always seemed to believe that a hot meal could cure just about anything. Hermione was indeed hungry, but she didn't much like the idea of remaining upstairs.
"Connie said something about her family having breakfast about this time." she said, speaking carefully. "Wouldn't it be easier to just go downstairs?"
"Thank you!" Fred and George said together. They crossed their arms over their chests and shot identical looks of irritation at their mother. "We've been trying to tell her that, but mom won't see reason."
Mrs. Weasley turned away from Hermione to give them a look of reproach. "I don't want you wandering around here by yourselves." she told them. "There are monsters in this house."
"Molly." Mr. Weasley said with a bit of hardness to his tone. "We've been through this enough by now. Sir Integra told us that we're safe here and I believe her."
"You believe a woman who keeps vampires in her house like pets?" she asked him incredulously.
Across the room, George bristled. "Good God, mother, what do you want us to do? Stay locked up in our rooms all the time?" he demanded. "I was up and about all day yesterday and not a damn thing happened."
"Watch your language, George Weasley!" his mother snapped. "I've had about enough out of you! Do you know how irresponsible it was to run off like you did? You could have gotten hurt or worse!"
"Doing what?" he asked, blinking at her in bewilderment.
Fred elbowed him in the ribs. "Didn't you sleep on a couch?" he prodded. "Why, that's right dangerous, that is! Could have pulled your back out. That can be lethal, you know."
George waved at him. "Nah, mate, that couch was comfy. Better than our beds back home. I told Connie I might nick it from her."
Mr. Weasley gave the pair of them a look and told them not to sass their mother. Even though it was clear that the woman didn't want them going anywhere, Hermione continued to insist that she would prefer to eat breakfast downstairs - sitting at a proper table. Everyone aside from Mrs. Weasley agreed they wanted to do the same, so she had no choice but to relent. However, she made the stipulation that if they went, they all had to stay together. Fred and George made a few snarky comments under their breath about her probably expecting them all to hold hands and check around corners as well.
Everyone departed to their own rooms long enough to change out of their pajamas, then regrouped in the hallway. There wasn't a maid around to show them the way like the night before, but George seemed to know where he was going. He said that while they had been off doing whatever they had been up to the day before, he had gotten a tour of the manor and had a general idea of where things were located. The whole way, he was nudging his twin in the ribs, pointing things out and whispering about things he had seen or heard during his explorations.
When they finally got down to the hallway that led to the dining room, everyone went still at the sound of voices coming from within. Hermione couldn't make out any specific pieces of conversation, but there were definitely a whole host of people in there. Upon arriving at the door itself, they saw Sir Integra sitting in her chair at the head of the table with a cigar balanced between her fingers. Connie was seated to her right, still dressed in the pajamas she had worn the night before. Her normally light brown hair was freshly washed and the still present dampness made it appear several shades darker. Miss Newsom was at the opposite side of the table in a loose white shirt with her hair haphazardly knotted into a bun with several thick pieces hanging around her face and neck. She was smoking as well, only hers looked more like a regular cigarette wrapped in black paper rather than white. On the same side with her were two others: one was the Bernadette man they'd met at King's Cross. He looked exactly the same except for his incredibly long auburn hair being loose and free rather than braided. He and Syn were sharing an ashtray since he was smoking too. (Does everyone in this house do that? The girl found herself wondering.) The final person was a short, voluptuous looking woman with strawberry blonde hair cut in a longish pixie style. Her looks were that of a classic 'blonde bombshell', but her demeanor gave her a more girlish air. She had to be in her late teens or early twenties at the most. Ginny tugged at Hermione's shirt sleeve and leaned in to whisper.
"That's the vampire that was at our house." she told her in a quick rush of breath.
Hermione blinked in surprise, then stared. There was no way! That woman was about the furthest one could get from the mental images conjured up by the word 'vampire'. She could scarcely fathom how she could be the least bit frightening. The blonde woman's head turned away from the conversation she was engaged in to look in their direction. Once she was focused on them, those with her moved to look as well.
"Oh!" Connie said, surprised by the sight of all of them together. "Good morning."
Sir Integra took the cigar from her lips and blew out a long stream of smoke as she carefully laid it down in a crystal ashtray sitting in front of her. "We weren't quite sure if you'd be joining us this morning." she commented, then paused, peering at Hermione with a shade of concern. "You look pale, Miss Granger. Are you alright?"
The girl winced. She couldn't possibly look so awful that everyone noticed, did she? That made her feel even more awkward. Mr. Weasley's hand came down to rest on her shoulder.
"I'm afraid Hermione had a bit of a rough night." he told them.
Syn and the two vampires gave each other understanding looks, almost as if they could read into the hidden meaning of his words. Constance's brows furrowed and she studied her questioningly. At the head of the table, the knight frowned in silent consideration.
"I'm sorry to hear that." she said. It sounded sincere. One of her hands came up to gesture to the table. "Well, if you're hungry we have more than enough for everyone."
Indeed, it looked like a feast had been laid out. There were a few dishes that weren't immediatley recognizable from a distance, as well as eggs, bacon, sausages, hashbrowns, grilled tomatoes, black pudding, toast, and a selection of jams and marmalade. As they all moved to take seats at the table, Hermione looked at Constance curiously.
"Your dad isn't here?" she asked quietly.
Connie shook her head. "No, he's gone." she replied.
Thought they had been speaking quietly, Sir Integra seemed to catch on to what they were talking about. "Edmund left earlier to go speak to Mr. Potter's family." she announced. She looked specifically at Harry. "He told me intended to make a stop at Little Whinging beforehand to work on your house while there isn't anyone around to get in the way."
"Oh." Harry said, looking a bit surprised. Apparently, he hadn't thought they would do that so quickly. "Um... thank you."
"Not at all." the knight replied, then gestured toward the two sitting with Miss Newsom. "I believe introductions are in order. This is First Officer Seras Victoria, whom who probably remember, and Captain Pip Bernadette, who was in command of the team sent to Little Whinging."
The blonde woman, Seras, shifted in her seat then couldn't seem to restrain herself any longer. She thrust out her hand toward Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with a bright, enthusiastic smile.
"It's a pleasure." she said. "And I am very sorry if I frightened you the other night. I know I look pretty scary when I've been in a fight, but I'm not usually like that, I promise."
She was incredibly friendly to the point of being bubbly. The adults gave each other an odd sort of look, then Mr. Weasley reached out to accept her hand. His wife was much more hesitant about it, but eventually, she did as well. When Seras pulled back, Bernadette moved to reach past her.
"I got to meet all of zhem, but I zhink me and Mihnea left before you zhowed up." He told Mr. Weasley as he grasped his hand, referring to the younger members of their group. When he went to take Mrs. Weasley's hand, his head cocked slightly to the side. "Zhe whole vampire zhing iz ztill freaking you out, 'uh?"
Mrs. Weasley leaned back a bit with an odd expression as she accepted the handshake and glanced at her husband. "A bit, yes." she admitted.
The captain waved at her. "No worries." he said good naturedly. "I waz 'uman when I first ztarted working 'ere and I zwear I zhought zhis place waz run by a bunch of crazy women or zomezhing. Zhen Mignonette 'ere flicked me acrozz zhe room and I zort of 'ad to ztart believing. Once you get your brain wrapped around zhe idea, eet's not zo bad."
Fred's eyes went wide. "Whoa whoa whoa, wait." he said. "Flicked?"
"Yep." Bernadette confirmed. He flicked his middle finger against his thumb to demonstrate. "Juzt like zhat. I zhink I flew like ten feet..."
"Five feet." Seras corrected.
Pip whirled to look at her incredulously. "I zhink I'd remember 'ow far eet waz, Mignonette!" he protested. "You broke my noze!"
"You were making fun of me so you deserved it." the girl replied, sticking her nose up into the air with a sniff. She crossed her arms over her chest. "You were there, Sir Integra. How far do you think it was?"
The knight picked up her cigar to take a thoughtful puff. "I didn't have a tape measure at the time but if memory serves, it was significantly less than ten feet."
Pip's mouth fell open and he then turned toward Miss Newsom as if to ask for backup. Before a word could come out of his mouth, she held up a finger.
"I wasn't there, so don't drag me into it."
"You won't 'elp me out? Even a little?" he prodded. "I'm your favorite zon-in-law!"
"Only son-in-law." she rephrased, giving him a look. "Your 'favorite' status has been called into question since you stole my pie crusts for your quiche this morning."
"I zaid I waz zorry!" he continued to protest. "Zhe quiche waz good, zo zhat makez eet all better, oui?"
The redhead's expression remained deliberately non-commital as she blew a stream of smoke directly into his face. When he continued to pout, she picked up her plate and held it out in front of him
"I haven't had enough to decide." she said. "Cut me another slice and we'll see."
It was positively stunning. They engaged in the sort of familiar teasing that everyone endulged in with others they got along with and knew well. It was so... well, normal that it was endearing. As Hermione watched the captain dutifully serve Syn another slice of mushroom quiche, she thought about what he said. He had been human when he first began working there. That meant that something must have happened for him to be turned. It spoke volumes of Sir Integra's character that she allowed him to stay on after being transformed into one of the creatures she was supposed to hunt. There was something else as well. He called Seras 'mignonette'. Hermione wasn't intimately acquainted with all aspects of the French language, but she knew enough to ascertain that the word was a term of endearment. Along the same lines as a boy calling a girl he liked a 'doll'. That strongly implied...
"Wait a minute!" she said, putting her hands flat on the table as she studied the female vampire. "You're Mihnea's sister, aren't you?"
The others looked at her like she was crazy, but the members of Hellsing all wore expressions varying from impressed to outright surprise. Seras blinked at her.
"Ah... yes?" she confirmed.
"No bleeding way!" Ron exclaimed. Mrs. Weasley immediately popped him on the back of the head with a sharp pronouncement to watch his language. He blanched and rubbed at the sore spot left behind. "Sorry." he muttered, then looked back at the female vampire in confusion. "I just meant... the two of you don't look anything alike."
The blonde just smiled in amusement. "Well, it's all really complicated and hard to explain, but master started referring to us that way on his own and it stuck." she told him. "I guess you could say that I was adopted when I was made. Pip was still human when Mihnea was a baby so I got first dibs on having a little brother, see?"
Everyone let out an 'oh' of understanding. Hermione remembered something she read about vampires choosing the type of familial relationships they had with the ones they made. So... perhaps this 'Alucard' had decided to view Seras as a daughter and Pip wasn't taken in as closely as she was? While it made sense to her mind, it was indeed something that would be difficult to put into words. The Hellsing and Newsom families were becoming more complex by the minute.
It took a while, but eventually curiosity won out over nerves and everyone grew more comfortable with taking part in the conversation. They had been downstairs for about forty-five minutes or so when Bassarab finally showed up. He entered so quietly that they nearly missed his presence until a tall, dark clad form walked right past the table to a door at the back of the room. All of the younger people fell silent when they caught sight of him - not out of any sort of fear, but more from pure surprise that he was there. Mihnea didn't look at anyone, keeping his eyes trained forward as he strode toward his destination with a small black trashbag dangling from his right hand. He disappeared into what must have been the kitchen then reappeared a few moments later; the garbage bag replaced with a large mug of coffee. His eyes so heavy lidded with tiredness that they could scarely be seen, he plopped down in the chair next to Syn, set the mug down on the table, then dropped his head down onto her shoulder. The woman arched her brow ever so slightly at the action. She stamped out what was left of her black cigarette, then lifted her hand to pet his hair.
"Good morning." she said. Her head turned to press her cheek against his forehead. "Feel better?"
Bassarab mumbled something in response that sounded like it could have been 'yes ma'am.'
"Did you sleep at all?"
Without moving from the position he was in, his head shook. Miss Newsom frowned.
"Dreams again?"
He gave a small nod in response. Syn wrinkled her nose with a sort of understanding dislike and rubbed her hand across his back soothingly.
"We can take care of that." she told him.
Though it had been explained that Syn was Mihnea's mother, the information hadn't really sunk in yet. It was hard to truly comprehend and accept something like that without seeing the two people in question together. Hermione didn't see Bassarab that much at school unless he was doing something with Constance, but she had always taken him to be a self-reliant sort of person, with a 'devil may care' attitude mixed with a strange sense of formality. He certainly had the most intimidating presence of any Slytherin at school aside from Professor Snape himself. But there he was, sitting at the table with messy hair, bleary eyes, wearing a black wife-beater style shirt that he had surely slept in, allowing a woman significantly smaller in height and size to pet and dote on him like he was a little boy. Even Mrs. Weasley looked a bit stunned by it - almost like she were seeing Syn with new eyes. Mihnea didn't complain when Syn instructed him to sit upright so she could examine him. There was only a small sigh of acquiesence as she carefully studied his eyes, then had him squeeze her hands with his fingers to determine their strength. His left forearm was wrapped from the palm all the way up to the elbow with thick white guaze. He appeared to have little trouble gripping with his right hand, but the fingers of the left only twiched and moved awkwardly. Hermione winced at the sight, remembering Constance telling her that there had been nerve damage. Miss Newsom, though, looked pleased.
"Much better." she praised.
Bassarab just rolled his eyes and focused his attention on drinking his coffee while Syn began piling his plate up with a bit of everything on the table. Next to Connie, George leaned forward and cleared his throat.
"You alright there, mate?" he asked. "You looked awful last time we saw you."
Mihnea glanced in his direction. He looked a bit put out that he mentioned that, but chose not to point it out. He only gave him an emotionless: "I'm fine."
When his plate was set down in front of him, he instinctively reached for his fork with his left hand. He managed to pick it up, but was unable to grip it correctly and it slipped from his fingers and clattered against the table. Mihnea's nostrils flared and he glared down at the offending piece of metal. It could have been a trick of the light, but it seemed that the color of them shifted. The usual emerald green sparked with a quick flash of red. He then closed his eyes with an irritated huff, took a deep breath to calm himself, and moved to pick it up with his right. Hermione's stomach tightened uncomfortably with each passing moment. Every move he made was so awkward and unnatural that there was no way he was right handed. And now his entire left arm was useless because of something she had done. That made it all seem doubly worse in her eyes.
"I'm so sorry." she gushed.
Bassarab's fork of eggs paused mid-way to his mouth and he peered at her. "What for?" he asked, sounding like he genuinely didn't know what the reason was. Then his eyes flicked toward his wrapped arm. "This?" he asked, holding it up. "It happens. Don't worry about it."
He sounded so non-chalant, and Hermione couldn't fathom how he dismissed it so easily. He had to be angry with the way he reacted to dropping the fork.
"But..." she began, intending to protest.
"It's fine, Granger." he interrupted. "I've got more scars than Frankenstein's monster, so adding a few more to the collection isn't a big deal." he sniffed like the conversation was over and returned to his breakfast. "Just don't be surprised when I get tense if I ever see you holding a big knife again."
His tone was dry, but Hermione noticed him give her a subtle glance, as if determining her reaction to his statement. She wasn't the only one who noticed it either.
"Hey!" Fred said, sounding surprised. "Was that a joke?"
Bassarab's eyes flicked in his direction. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not allowed to have a sense of humor?" he questioned sarcastically.
While Fred commenced defending his statement by saying that he hadn't meant anything by it, Ron's brows knotted together in confusion.
"What's Frankenstein's monster?" he whispered.
Collectively, the younger people who had grown up around muggles did their best to explain how it was a character in a piece of literature. Hermione herself didn't really understand why Mihnea chose to compare himself to such a creature though. Perhaps he was exaggerating for dramatic effect. Once she saw that Ron got the basic idea, she turned back around to sit properly in her seat and carefully cleared her throat.
"I... ah... heard you have Crookshanks." she began. "I hope he hasn't been too much trouble..."
Bassarab shook his head. "No, he's been fine." he told her. "Pixie's territorial so she wasn't too happy about it at first, but I think she's calmed down now. I've got plenty of food and stuff, so if you need anything for him, just ask."
Hermione blinked at him. While she appreciated the offer, Crookshanks wasn't the only cat there. "Won't you need that for yours though?"
"Not really." he replied. "Pixie prefers to hunt for herself so she doesn't eat store bought food that often. I have a twenty pound bag that's lasted for nearly a year and it's still about half full. Take what you need. If it runs out, I can always get more." he then looked over at Harry. "Your owl is here too, by the way."
Harry immediately sat up at attention. "Hedwig?" he asked. "When did she get here?"
"A few hours after you guys did." Mihnea reported. He shrugged. "Archimedes was staying with me while Connie was gone, so I guess she came to my window since this is his territory." he motioned to his cousin. "She came and got her yesterday, so she's in her room now."
Constance nodded. "With the way his cat was acting with Crookshanks around, I didn't know how she'd take to another animal being in there." she explained. "I don't know what you usually do with Hedwig, but Archimedes hates being cooped up for long periods of time. I've been letting them both go outside to fly for a few hours during the day. I let them out this morning before I came down."
The boy waved at her to show that wasn't a problem. "That's fine. I'm not allowed to let her out much when I'm at home, so I'm sure she's loving it." he paused and gave her an odd look. "You didn't say anything about her being here last night."
Connie winced and shot the smallest of glances toward the Weasley parents. "I would have Harry, but I didn't really have time to."
There was no need for her to explain further. Mrs. Weasley had seperated them pretty quickly last night. Hermione noticed Mr. Weasley giving his wife a sideways glance that came close to being an 'I told you so' look. While they all fell into an awkward sort of silence, Mihnea pointedly ignored the atmosphere and moved to pull several folded sheets of parchment from his pocket. He held them out to his mother with two fingers.
"Read this."
Miss Newsom peered at him, then studied the paper with a hint of caution. "Have you gotten into some kind of trouble I don't know about?" she asked.
Bassarab snorted. "Oh please, mom." he said with a roll of his eyes. "It's about that thing we talked about the other day."
Her brows furrowed thoughtfully. "What thi... oh!" she suddenly exclaimed in realization, then her eyes narrowed in a way that was almost disapproving. "You wrote to her about it?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I haven't written one thing to her. That's the point. She came up with this all by herself." he waved the papers at her. "Don't say anything, just read."
Syn took the papers from him with a perplexed expressions and opened them up to read their contents. Bernadette and Seras looked at each other.
"Hey, is that about the p..." the female vampire started, only to be interrupted by a sharp look from Bassarab.
"Shut it, Seras." he snapped.
The draculina made a face of annoyance at being cut off, but before she could make any rebuttal, Miss Newsom waved at both of them to stop. "Quiet." she said, then kept reading. At one point, her mouth opened like she was going to say something, then closed it and cocked her head to the side. Then she blinked in amazement.
"Oh, wow..." she mouthed without making any sound.
One of Mihnea's dark brows slowly went up. "See what I mean now?"
His mother nodded. "I do. This is amazing."
Sir Integra looked over with interest and asked what it was they were talking about. Mihnea took the folded paper from Miss Newsom and passed it over for her to read as well. The others looked on curiously and Hermione leaned over to whisper to Constance.
"What is that about?" she asked.
Connie shook her head, though she looked interested as well. "It's something Mihnea has going on." she replied.
Well, that wasn't the least bit helpful at ascertaining what it could be. No one else could figure it out either. Sir Integra reacted to the missive in a similar manner to Syn - first wearing an odd expression like she were reading something difficult to interpret, then there was a sudden dawn of understanding.
"Interesting..." she mused. She passed the papers back to him. "I suppose you and Alucard and going to be busy for next few days then?"
Mihnea wrinkled his nose. "Good God, aunt Integra, I don't think it'll take that long."
She waved a hand. "Well, however long it takes, just see to it that your father doesn't talk you into doing anything too outlandish."
The mention of the name of the household's other, most initimidating vampire didn't go unnoticed. But before anyone could say a word or ask any questions about it, a deep resonant chuckle poured through the air.
"Outlandish, master?" it questioned. "Whatever would make you think such a thing of me?"
It came out of nowhere and it was impossible to determine what direction it was coming from. Everyone went still and looked around with wide eyes full of anxiousness.
"Bloody hell, what is that?" Ron whispered in a fearful tone. It was a credit to everyone's mental state that neither of his parents rebuked him for swearing.
The adult members of Hellsing all looked at each other, then up at the ceiling with a deep sigh - like this was an occurance they were used to and found annoying. Sir Integra reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"What do you want, Alucard?" she called out.
At that moment, something incredibly strange occured. An odd sort of... feeling swept across Hermione's senses. From the expressions on other others' faces, they felt it as well. It was such an unusual sensation that it nearly crossed a boundary into the indiscribable. The room was suddenly flooded with a well of pure power so raw, dark, and strong that it made the insides tremble and the mind go blank with apprehension. Like whatever it foretold was so far beyond understanding that one couldn't even begin to process it. The temperature of the air dropped several degrees as a form began to appear on the wall opposite them. First it was a pale skinned hand, followed by a long arm. Then a torso. Finally, the full-bodied form stepped forward out of the wall and solidified. Impossibly tall, lean yet well defined, dressed in a tailored black suit and black overcoat, with shiny black leather riding boots that came up to his knees. His inky black hair was thick and silky. The shortest parts just barely brushing the collar of his shirt, while the front was much longer. But it was the face that was most striking, and Hermione wasn't the only one who found herself quickly looking back and forth between him and Mihnea. Alucard's face had the elegant structure of an aristocrat - a strong chin with the growth of a thin goatee, high cheekbones, and long, straight nose upon which a pair of red tinted sunglasses sat, covering his eyes. Aside from a few extremely slight differences (the facial hair and different hairstyles being the most obvious) they looked a lot alike. If there had been any doubt about Mihnea being the son of the most powerful vampire in existance, it was instantly removed.
The girl had never considered the idea of describing a creature (especially a male) so mind-numbingly frightening as 'beautiful', but he truly was. Beautiful and entrancing with a hint of something that could only be called demonic - as if his mere presence was enough to force you to pay attention to him. When Alucard walked forward, he moved with the grace of a stalking cat. Perfectly controlled and deliberate, but the mind still subconsciously registered the possibility of those movements becoming lethal. He came up behind Syn's chair and paused like he was perfectly content to stand rather than sit.
"You always think the worst of me." he said in a voice that was pure silk.
Sir Integra sniffed at him. "Thinking the worst is always the safest option when it comes to you, vampire." she replied. She took a moment to study his appearance. "You look... different."
His lips pulled into a smirk and he inclined his head in assent. "Syn and I have an appointment in London this morning, do we not? If we're to infiltrate an establishment that caters to vampires, it wouldn't do for me to be recognized, now would it?"
The redhead, who appeared to be ignoring him for the most part, suddenly gave a start and whirled around to gape at him. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed, looking horrified. "What time is it?"
"Nearly ten, little goddess." the vampire told her.
The woman's eyes went wide and she jumped up from the table, gaving him a hard push to get him out of her way. "You couldn't have said something?" she demanded. "We'll be late!"
One of his dark brows rose. "Am I your keeper now?" he asked. He looked her up and down. "To be honest, I was rather looking forward to dragging you naked through the city streets."
Syn was rushing speedily toward the door and didn't bother looking back. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that!" she shouted as she disappeared through the door and around a corner. "I'll be right back!"
Alucard chuckled at her comment and rapid departure, then smoothly pulled out the chair she had been sitting in to take her place. After lowering himself down in an elegant motion, he slid off his sunglasses - revealing a pair of piercing, blood colored eyes. The moment she saw them, Hermione froze and thought that perhaps that quick flash of color she had noticed in Bassarab's eyes earlier wasn't a trick of the light after all.
"Well now." he began in a smooth tone, giving each one of them a passing glance. "It has been such a long time since we've had new blood in the house."
When she saw how his attention was making them nervous, Sir Integra cleared her throat. "Behave yourself, vampire." she instructed like she were speaking to an unruly child. She waved at him with a finger. "And tone it down if you don't mind."
Alucard turned to look at her. "You are no fun, master."
"Considering that your idea of 'fun' usually consists of the stuff of nightmares, I believe it's a reasonable request." the woman quipped. She leveled a firm look down her nose at him. "Tone it down. That's an order."
The vampire sighed and made a sweeping hand motion through the air. "As you wish." he said.
Slowly, the oppressive atmosphere in the room faded back to normal. Once Hermione was able to breathe properly and didn't feel the overwhelming urge to hide under the table, she recognized what must have been going on. Alucard had deliberately manipulated the environment to paralyze them with fear. The reason was beyond her, but from what little they had been told about him, it could have been that he was simply showing off how powerful he was. Of course, he was still fearsome without anything added on, but at least now his presence was bearable.
The vampire shot only the smallest of looks back in their direction before ignoring them entirely. Whether it was due to Sir Integra's order or from him not finding them interesting, the girl didn't know. He decided to focus on Constance instead.
"I heard an interesting rumor about you, young master." he commented, interlacing his fingers in front of him.
Connie looked up from her plate. "What would that be?"
"That you made your first kill." he replied. "Two vampires without assistance. Is this true?"
"It is."
Alucard's eyes sparkled at her and his lips pulled into a wide grin. He pressed a hand to his chest in a mock expression of dismay. "Ah, it pains my very soul to know that I missed it!" he said with relish. "The vision of a young maiden drawing blood for the first time is always a breathtaking sight to see." He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward intently. "Did you enjoy it?"
His lowered tone and near husky delivery gave the question a suggestive bent that was impossible to miss. Connie's cheeks turned pink and she shook her head as she glared at him.
"I'm not answering that." she said.
Alucard arched an eyebrow at her. "Why ever not?" he prodded, making an attempt at sounding innocent.
The brown haired girl sniffed and folded her arms over her chest. "Because no matter what I say, you'll find a way of twisting it into some awful, perverted thing that I didn't mean." she told him resolutely. "And I don't feel like playing one of your annoying mind games right now."
The vampire studied her for a moment before his grin widened with approval. "Touche, young master." he said, nodding to her in acceptance. His red eyes flickered with mischief. "Perhaps later, when we are lacking an audience, you will be more... receptive to playing one of my mind games?"
Connie huffed at him in irritation, turned her head to the side and stuck her nose up in the air. After a moment or two, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'll think about it."
It was somewhat unsettling to watch an adult interact with someone Connie's age in such a manner, but the members of Hellsing didn't seem to be bothered by it. Either it was a trait of Alucard's personality that they were accustomed to, or he didn't truly mean things the way they sounded. Sir Integra was looking at her daughter with a restrained sense of pride, like she was pleased by her behavior. Indeed, even more surprising than the vampire's demeanor was the way Constance didn't seem the least bit afraid of him and had no problem with putting her foot down and bantering right back. Of course, she would have lived in the same house with him all her life, so she'd be used to it, but the idea was still hard to wrap one's brain around.
His initial teasing of Constance over, Alucard then turned his attention toward the boy sitting next to him. He took notice of which hand he was using to eat with and made a comment about it. Or... at least, that's what he appeared to be doing. It was impossible to tell exactly what the vampire was saying because when he spoke, it was in a language none of them understood. Bassarab, though, seemed to know exactly what was being said to him and responded in kind - displaying a mastery at speaking the language fluently.
"Sweet Merlin, this is freaky." Fred breathed in a voice that was so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. He leaned back behind George to whisper at Constance. "What are they saying?"
The girl shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
Ron blinked at her in astonishment. "You don't know what language that is?" he asked quietly.
She rolled her eyes. "Not knowing how to speak it doesn't mean I don't know what language it is." she countered. "It's..."
"Romanian." Hermione finished for her. She pulled her eyes away from the scene she was watching to look back at her friends. "That's where Dracula was originally from, so it makes perfect sense, of course. Honestly, how could you not know that?"
"Well excuse me." he hissed back at her. "Are you an expert on Dracula now?"
She narrowed her eyes, irritated. "I read, Ronald. You should try it every now and t..."
"You read, do you?" a silky, purring voice interrupted. "I wasn't aware that my personal history was common fodder for girls your age."
Hermione froze and glanced back to find that Alucard's conversation with Mihnea had ended and he was now looking intently at her. Mrs. Weasley immediately bristled with protectiveness.
"That poor girl has been through enough, so you leave her al..."
The vampire's eyes snapped toward her. "I wasn't speaking to you, woman." he snapped.
It wasn't loud, but it was definitely menacing enough to bring her statement to a screeching halt. He narrowed his eyes slightly in warning, then turned back to the girl.
"I'm waiting."
Hermione gave a start when she realized he wanted a response. What was a person supposed to do in a situation like this? Thinking that she didn't want to be percieved as a coward, the girl squared her shoulders and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
"I... read the novel 'Dracula' when I was younger." she began hesitantly. "When I heard it was based on a historical figure, I did some research."
"I see." He sat back in his chair more comfortably, still peering at her. He laid a finger against the side of his chin. "A scholar with a violent streak. How delightful."
Hermione gaped at him. "I'm not violent!"
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and the boys all began looking at each other. When she caught sight of Ron whispering something to Harry with a quiet snort, she turned to glare at him.
"Don't you dare say anything, either." she warned.
Harry and Ron both went still and shut their mouths, while Alucard chuckled with mirth. "Ah, and feisty as well." He pointed at her and looked back at Sir Integra. "I like this girl, master. May I have her?"
The question made everyone's attention snap back to him and several mouths dropped open in shock. But before anyone could protest, the knight pulled a metal tin out of her pocket to retrieve a new cigar.
"I'm afraid you're too late, Alucard." she told him as she snipped off the end and lit it. "The Weasleys have already kindly agreed to take her in." she inhaled deeply then blew a plume of smoke out in his direction. "Besides, I've already allowed you to keep two women as it is. I believe between Syn and Seras, you have more than enough to entertain yourself with."
The vampire scoffed at her. "But I only have a redhead and a blonde." he pointed out. "I need a brunette to complete my collection."
Next to him, Seras' mouth fell open, while Pip and Mihnea both snickered.
"Your collection?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "Master!"
Connie's hand went up into the air. "I would like to point out that I'm a brunette." she announced. "Don't I count for anything?"
Alucard focused on her. "Indeed you are, young master." he agreed. "How could I possibly forget about you? Of course, if you wish to be considered as one of mine, I would have to treat you as such." he paused and turned his gaze toward the twins - George specifically. "Which means that any suitors who so much as think about taking your virginity would be skinned alive and made into my next meal."
George stared at him, frozen, then pushed himself as far back as he could without actually moving his chair away from the table.
"Uh... Got it."
Bernadette noticed his reaction and gave him a sympathetic look.
"Don't let 'im zcare you too much." he said helpfully. He jerked a thumb toward Seras. " 'e told me zhe zame zhing zhe first time I asked 'er out, and 'e 'asn't killed me yet."
The vampire quirked a brow at him. "Are you tempting me, frog?"
"Non!" the captian replied immediately, violently shaking his head. "No temptation 'ere..." his words trailed off and he looked toward the door at the back of the room with wide eyes. " 'ot damn, momma hen!" he let out an appreciative whistle. "You look zmoking!"
The exclaimation came out of nowhere and everyone turned to see what he was talking about. Miss Newsom had come back and she now looked completely different. Her loose, comfy clothes had been exchanged for a short, form fitting black dress that showed off her curves and knee high black leather boots with stilleto heels. A thick wool coat was drapped over one arm, and her vivid red hair was neatly brushed and pulled into a more controlled style which left her neck bare. She had apparently been deftly keeping herself covered before because now every inch of visible skin bore various dark bruises and... bite marks? They didn't really detract from her good looks, but they were still violent enough to capture attention. The first thought that popped into Hermione's head was that she must have gotten them during a fight at the Burrow or something. But the rest of her friends looked taken aback by their appearance as well, and Alucard was giving the woman this... hungry looking stare that made her wonder if he were the one responsible for them instead.
Syn paused midstep when she heard what Bernadette said, then brightened. "Thank you." She turned her attention to Alucard. "Are we going?"
The vampire's lips pulled into a demonic looking smirk and he smoothly rose from his seat to walk over to her. Side by side, he was more than a full foot taller. "Of course." he purred. "This might just prove to be more interesting than if I dragged you there undressed."
The woman glared at him and swatted at his shoulder. "Shut your mouth!" she exclaimed. "This is bad enough as it is. I hate wearing these things."
Alucard just chuckled at her and offered his arm. She slid her hand through to grip his elbow and they both turned to leave. However, Syn paused, like she were remembering something. She quickly turned and tossed something - a small bottle, it looked like - through the air toward Bassarab. The boy caught it in midair.
Miss Newsom watched as he slid the bottle into his pocket. "Can I get a thank you?" she prodded.
Mihnea rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Thank you, mom."
"You're very welcome." she replied, smiling approvingly. She shot a small glance toward the collection of wizards, then pointed at him. "Play nice." she instructed.
Bassarab sighed like he found her manner annoying, but when he saw his mother quirking a brow at him, he straighted and gave her a nod of understanding. Satisfied with his response, the pair then turned their backs on them, Syn muttering something to Alucard about killing him if he let anyone get too close to her. The vampire let out an evil sounding laugh and pulled her closer to him. They took two steps forward, then disappeared in a swirl of black shadows that materialized out of nowhere. Hermione had never seen anything like it before.
As everyone just stared open mouthed at the empty spot where the two had been, Sir Integra cleared her throat.
"You will have to overlook him." she said. "Alucard is many things, but 'subtle' has never been one of them. He's very fond of popping up out of nowhere and frightening people just to get a reaction."
Overlook him? Hermione wondered. How on earth could a person just 'overlook' something like that? The vampire's sudden appearance and departure left such a powerful impression that no one seemed to know what to do or how to react.
"Now then." the knight announced, glancing sideways at Connie. "If Alucard is right about the time, then you'd best go off and get dressed. We don't want to be late for your appointment."
Appointment? Constance had somewhere to be as well? The girl herself didn't look the least bit pleased about it. She slumped and stuck out her bottom lip.
"I really don't want to go." she said.
One of Sir Integra's eyebrows rose. "I don't recall giving you a choice in the matter."
Constance huffed. "Mom..." she whined.
"Constance..." the knight replied, using the exact same tone. She gave her daughter a look that was strangely playful and serious at the same time and reached over to pat her back. "A lady doesn't slump. Sit up straight." she instructed. "Now, the simple fact of the matter is that when it comes to vision, the odds are stacked against you. Your eyesight is the most valuable asset you have, so it must be taken care of."
"Eyesight?" Harry questioned. He sat up straighter in his chair and looked down at her. "You're getting your eyes checked?"
"Unfortunately." Connie replied, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly. "And I honestly don't see what the point is. I can see perfectly fine."
Bassarab snorted. "Of course you can." he said sarcastically. "I suppose that's why you've never been able to hit the center of a target?"
"Shut your mouth!" the girl exclaimed, throwing her napkin across the table at him. "You're not helping!"
"We don't throw things at the table, Constance." her mother chided. When she saw Mihnea sticking his tongue out at his cousin in triumph, she glanced at him sideways. "And young men keep their tongues in their mouths where they belong."
Bassarab froze and pulled his tongue back into his mouth. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good boy." Sir Integra said, then turned back to Constance. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but having to press your nose so far into a book that it touches the pages in order to read does not equate with being able to see 'perfectly fine'. You need glasses."
"But I don't want them!" Connie exclaimed, horrified by the idea. "Glasses are awful!"
"Excuse me?" the knight asked. "Both your father and I wear glasses."
"Hey!" Harry said with a small show of offense. "I wear glasses too, thank you!"
Connie immediately sobered and looked over at him apologetically. "I didn't mean it that way." she assured him. "You look good with glasses." she turned back to her mother. "I'm just saying that I think I'd look awful with them."
Seras coughed and held up a hand. "That's not true." she told her helpfully. She smiled brightly. "I think you'd look cute with glasses."
"Oui!" Bernadette added with enthusiasm. "And check zhis out: eef you don't like zhem, zhey make zhese zuper cool zhings now called contacts." he held up his hands with the fingers spread out. "Zhey're zhe ztuff of zhe future!"
Constance didn't look the least bit impressed by his teasing. "Thank you so much for informing me of that, because I had no idea what contacts were." she muttered.
The man just smiled. "You're welcome! Zhat's what I'm 'ere for!"
Connie threatened to hit him in the face with her fork, but Sir Integra berated her a second time about her lack of manners. She was then sent off to get dressed - which the girl begrudgingly agreed to do. Once she was gone, the knight politely excused herself to get ready and gave the Captain some instructions about being present in the barracks to make sure the guard changed smoothly. Or some other type of military thing that made little sense to their untrained ears. In the end, they were left sitting at the breakfast table with Mihnea and Seras. And from the way the blonde vampire was yawning, she wasn't going to be around for much longer either.
"I'm sorry." she apologized, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "This is really late for me. I should probably be heading on too..." she glanced at Bassarab sideways. "Are you going to be okay by yourself?"
Mihnea's mug halted halfway to his mouth and he shot an unappreciative glare in her direction. "I don't need a babysitter, Seras."
Seras wrinkled her nose at him. "I didn't say you needed a babysitter." she replied. "But you have to go down to the hospital wing later don't you? I can stay up for a while if you want me to."
Bassarab's expression shifted to one of intense dislike. "Don't remind me." he muttered. He took a sip of his coffee. "I'm not doing that until mom and dad get back."
The blonde vampire pressed her lips together. "You sure?"
"Yes, Seras, I'm sure." Mihnea said with an irritated huff. "Now will you please stop fawning? It drives me crazy."
She sat back and held up her hands defensively. "Suit yourself." she told him. "Just thought I'd offer."
Seras pushed her chair back and said a few final words of goodbye, then went off. They all watched her walk out, then turned back around in their chairs.
"Wow." George said, looking amazed. "I never would have thought your sister would be like that. She was..."
Bassarab fixed an intent gaze upon him. "She was what, Weasley?"
"Nice." he finished with a cough. "And... normal."
"And hot." Fred said wistfully, still staring at the door she had disappeared through.
"Fredrick Joseph Weasley!" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exclaimed together.
His mother reached to give him a sound smack, but Fred ducked before she made contact.
"What!" he said. "Just cause Georgie isn't allowed to look anymore doesn't mean I've been neutered. She was right sexy! Did you see her ti..."
The loud, pointed sound of a throat being cleared interrupted him.
"Say one more word Weasley, and I'll come across this table and rip the tongue right out of your mouth." Mihnea warned in a low voice.
Fred went very still. "Ti... eeth. I was totally going to say 'teeth'."
Bassarab looked unconvinced. "Of course you were."
"I was!" he insisted. He grabbed at George's arm as if to pull him in the middle. "He'll tell you! I've always thought there's nothing sexier than a girl with awesome teeth. Right Georgie?"
George appeared to be restraining himself from rolling his eyes at his brother's behavior. "Uh huh. Cause you'd never notice anything below a girl's chin."
"Or above her waist..." Fred added. He started getting that faraway look in his eyes again, but came back to himself when he noticed the glare Mihnea was giving him. He coughed. "Just saying, mate."
Mihnea continued to stare him down for a moment or two, then sniffed and sat back. "Keep in mind that my sister is taken and she's been with Pip for as long as I've been alive. The French are known for fighting dirty, so you don't have a snowball's chance in hell." he waved a hand through the air. "But if you feel like losing a few important body parts, you go right ahead and say that where someone else could hear it. Pip might just think it's funny enough to not do anything, but my dad would impale you on an iron spike and roast you alive. "
Fred winced and simpered down. "Gotcha. No pissing off Dracula."
"Wise decision."
The subject of Mihnea's father coming up made George look nervous all over again. "Uh... hey, he wasn't really serious about that whole 'skinning me alive and eating me' business, was he?" he asked carefully.
Bassarab's expression remained blank. "The answer should be obvious if you were paying attention to the way he worded it."
George shut his mouth. It was clear from his expression that he was thinking of the vampire's mention of 'virginity'. Hermione couldn't restrain herself from adding her two cents.
"Weren't you listening to him?" she asked. "He specifically told Connie: 'if you wish to be considered as one of mine, I'll have to treat you as such'. He was saying that anything he does to you is her choice."
George blinked at her. "Is that what that meant? Honestly, I was a little preoccupied with the whole being eaten thing to pay attention to that part."
Across the table, Mihnea clapped his hands noiselessly. "Bravo, Granger. Finally, someone with a brain." he tapped at the side of his head. "You've got to be on your toes and pay attention to everything when you're in this house. My dad is all about mind games. He never lies, but everything he says can be can taken about a thousand different ways depending on how well you're listening."
They all gaped at him. That was beyond intimidating.
"Merlin's beard..." Ron murmured. "Everything? Like... everything, everything?"
"Well... not everything." Mihnea conceeded. "It's more... between ninety and ninety-five percent, depending on what sort of mood he's in."
"Ninety..." Fred began, then shook his head. "Okay, mom you go ahead and get ready to hit me 'cause I can't help it." he said, then went back to Bassarab. "How the bloody hell do you put up with that day in and day out?"
Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley immediately popped him and warned him to watch his language. Mihnea just took in the sight and shrugged.
"You get used to it." he told him. "This is the reason I'm in Slytherin house. Mind games and manipulation are our specialities."
Ginny frowned then moved to speak for the first time since they had come downstairs. "But... if that's true, then why isn't Connie in Slytherin?" she asked. "She's lived here all her life too."
"Because no matter how much no one wants to admit it, Gryffindor and Slytherin are extremely similar." Bassarab replied. "We share most of the same qualities and traits, but have them in different amounts. Ever since my first year at school, Professor McGonagall goes on and on about how I should have been a Gryffindor. Then after Connie's first Potions class, Snape swore up and down she was a Slytherin."
Harry's eyes went wide. "No way."
"Yes way." Mihnea affirmed. "They argue about it all the time. I firmly believe the only reason they haven't traded us off is because they both want us in their own house and neither one is going to give up the fight."
Hermione stared at him in astonishment. She couldn't imagine either him or Connie being in any house other than the ones they had been placed in. But she was more curious about he had knowledge about that sort of back and forth going on between a set of teachers.
"How on earth could you know about that?" she asked. "I've never heard Snape or McGonagall say anything like that before."
"Being the pet of the Potions Master has it's advantages." Bassarab replied. He pointed at himself. "He lets me assist in preparing things for lessons and keeping his storeroom in order, so I'm usually not very far from his office." he paused to pick up his mug of coffee to drink down the last bit of it. As he lifted it to his lips, he shot a meaningful look at her over the rim. "I've always liked the job because I have access to a whole list of things that most students never get to see or use. And if anything mysteriously goes missing, I'm the first to notice."
She, Harry, and Ron all went very still and shot small glances at each other. Thank God the others didn't notice because their infiltration of the Slytherin dormitories had gone unnoticed. They had agreed not to speak of it to anyone other than Connie. Mr. Weasley took the comment as purely conversational and decided to go along with it because it was neutral territory.
"The kids have all mentioned that you were in Slytherin, but we've not heard much else, I'm afraid." he said. "It sounds like Professor Snape has given you a lot of responsibility. Do you find things going missing often?"
Mihnea's attention shifted toward him. "All the time." he replied. "It's usually ordinary things that aren't that much trouble to replace. I figure it's students working on things outside of class they don't want to use up their supplies on." he sighed. "It's one of those things that happens, but it's still annoying because I get stuck with the paperwork. I would think that anyone with a lick of sense would know that if they were having trouble and really needed something, they could just ask."
"Absolutely." Mr. Weasley agreed. "Of course, things were a bit different when I was in school, but I don't recall having any trouble getting additional supplies for things we worked on outside of class. Do you Molly?"
"Well, I don't know about it being no trouble at all, but I certainly never had to resort to stealing." the woman replied. She turned to give Fred and George a stern look. "You two had better not be taking things from your Potions teacher for those 'Wheezes' of yours, and I mean it."
The twins both went slack jawed. "Good God, mother, why is it that every time something like this comes up, you always blame us?" George demanded.
"Yeah! You act like we're the only ones on the planet who have nicked something before!" Fred added.
"Because I am your mother and I know how you two are." she said firmly. "It's bad enough you've gotten that rediculous idea in your heads in the first place without you going around making lord knows what sort of trouble to do it."
While the three of them commenced arguing amongst themselves, Mihnea sat back with his mug, and gave her, Harry, and Ron that unnoticable glance again. Hermione then realized what he was doing. Pay attention to everything in this house, he said. If what she gathered from his statements was correct, then he was offering them assistance in the future. All he wanted them to do was ask for it.
Yay for long chapters! Boo for long update times... but long chapters makes it betters!
