[A/N: I'll have to thank Dynast's Girl for giving me the sort of inspiration for the quote before the chapter. Thank you!]
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too - **he's a werewolf!"
--Hermione Granger, Prisoner of Azkaban
Chapter 3 - Lessons in the Night
"Good evening, Harry. You are early." Drakul looked up from her book, and gestured for him to sit. "Are the others coming soon?"
"I'm not sure... I mean, we don't exactly..."
"It's all right, Harry. I believe I understand." Drakul bent over the book again. Five minutes later, Justin and Morag came in. Drakul nodded at them, and went back to the dusty tome in front of her.
"Hey, Potter," Morag MacDougal whispered, sitting next to Harry. "Ready for Quidditch?" Morag's whispers hardly disturbed the room. It was strange that he should think to whisper, but Drakul was indeed studying - what, Harry didn't know - and Harry supposed all Ravenclaws had a respect for studying, and remained quiet, as long as someone was studying.
Harry grinned. "There's no telling, MacDougal," he whispered back.
"How was your summer?" Justin asked Morag amiably.
"I saw Krum in Diagon," Morag offered.
Justin grinned slyly (something you wouldn't see on most Hufflepuffs, Harry thought absently, trying to stave off boredom). "I saw Krum at Hogwarts."
"We all did."
Harry glanced at his watch, and wondered why Drakul hadn't sent someone to fetch the Slytherin bugger. Drakul was still reading her book, her chin supported by her right arm. She was absentmindedly tapping one fingernail against her cheek.
Typical of Malfoy, to be late for a meeting, Harry thought sourly. A loud snap from Drakul's book made the three of them look up.
"You may come in now, Mr. Malfoy," Drakul spoke to the door, startling the four Quidditch captains. But the door did indeed open, revealing Draco Malfoy, Git-of-the-Century.
"All right... as we are all here, there are a few things I need to discuss with the captains. First, is the change in referees... I will be refereeing the games, and will most likely oversee the... trials for the positions, if you will. Or, Professor Snape will oversee them."
"What, you?" Malfoy blurted out loudly, surprising everyone, especially himself.
"Yes, Draco Malfoy. I shall be the referee. Madam Hooch will not be available for your Inter House Quidditch games." Drakul brushed her hair aside, and leaned back in her chair. "Any more questions?" No one had any more. Malfoy resumed sulking in the back. Silently. Harry wondered if he was sick. He certainly would not be that silent normally.
"Good. Next, we... Professor Snape and I ... need the empty spots on your teams, so we can keep an eye out for new recruits during flying lessons. Actually, you can give them to Professor Snape... he will be teaching the lessons.
"I'm sure you know how the Quidditch pitch can be booked, and where you can find the game postings. The games will be starting next month..." Drakul paused for a moment before continuing. "I have been to the storeroom today, and found some of the school brooms wanting for training or playing in the games. I am surprised no one has fallen off the brooms yet. The alignments in some of them are quite atrocious. I am sure you felt that way when you have used them before."
"But what do you want us to do?" Morag asked. Malfoy was again uncharacteristically silent.
"Nothing. I only want your opinions. What kind of brooms should be used?" There was silence. Drakul sighed. "I must admit, I do not follow the new models as I had used to. The newest line is the Nimbus, I believe?"
Harry's mouth dropped open. Drakul didn't follow the... and she said she played Quidditch! A babble broke out, the three boys shooting advice and suggestions at the same time. Malfoy didn't say anything.
Drakul nodded slowly, taking this all in. She didn't seem to be bothered by the consistent flow of information.
"All right, thank you, gentlemen. I shall put in a word to Professors Dumbledore and Snape. You may -" In the middle of her dismissal, the door burst open.
Hermione dragged in Ron. They were both looking flushed, scared and carrying books. "Good evening, Hermione, Ron. What brings you here today?" Drakul greeted. She made to stand, but Hermione's wand was pointed at her in a flash.
"Don't move. We know who you are," she hissed. "Sit down, or what's left of you will end up on Filch's feather duster."
Drakul sat. "Very well. Interesting threat."
"Granger, what are you doing?" Malfoy drawled, quite surprising the other Quidditch captains and the Head Girl, not to mention her best friend.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione said shrilly. "I am saving your pale..." she seemed at lost for words for him, so she turned back to Drakul. Ron smothered a snigger. "How did you convince Dumbledore to let you teach? How many students have you killed?"
"Ron, what's she talking about?" Harry whispered nervously.
"What is this?" Morag stood angrily. "I want an explanation."
"She's a vampire."
Silence. Hermione's statement was met by total silence. No one spoke for a moment. Drakul's gaze was sweeping the classroom, from Malfoy's bored face to Ron's fearful one, and Morag MacDougal's skeptical face. She saw Hermione's steady hand and hateful glare.
Drakul stood up abruptly, and the reaction was immediate. Hermione screeched a spell that hit Drakul in the chest, knocking her back into the wall behind her. All of them watched in horror, as Drakul clutched at where the spell had hit her. She gasped for breath.
"I thought you said it would kill her!" Ron whispered worriedly to Hermione. He had his want out too.
"No." All eyes riveted from the Head Girl to the Defense Against Dark Arts professor. She was still out of breath, but continued. "Congratulations, Head Girl. Mad-Eye Moody could not best that, and he has tried... heavens yes."
Hermione ignored that remark. "What do you mean no? That's the... that's the spell!"
Malfoy winced. "Lower that tone, Granger, my eardrums are about to rupture."
"Hush, Draco." Drakul sat down again. "I mean no. That would not kill me. It would take more than a seventeen-year-old witch and a spell. Though, that was quite a spell. What I am saying is... I cannot be killed very easily." Drakul sighed. "This is not the time for a lesson, but you will have no less, I suppose."
"May I leave now?" Malfoy spoke up, from the back. "I've heard this before... Arachne?" Ron's mouth dropped. Malfoy noticed, and sneered. "No anyone can treat a Nosferatu like that, Weasley, especially not a Mu -"
"That is enough, Draco," Drakul spoke sharply at Malfoy, who shut up immediately. She looked at him, as if expecting something. Harry noticed Malfoy's cheeks were turning pink.
"No here," he hissed.
"Draco Malfoy... have you forgotten what you father has taught you?" There was a definite blush in Malfoy's cheeks. "You know who I am, Draco."
"Arachne Targoviste Drakul, may I leave now... please." If it was possible, Ron's mouth dropped further. A Malfoy, polite? Merlin, that was rarer than raining Galleons... real ones, mind, not the leprechaun kinds.
Drakul smiled for the first time in their presence. "Of course, Draco, good night."
Everyone was even more surprised when Malfoy approached the vampire, and kissed her on the cheek, and made for the door. Ron dropped his wand when Malfoy bowed to Drakul at the door. Drakul nodded once at him.
Before he walked out, however, Malfoy turned, and glared at the rest of the Seventh Years gathered there. "If any of you breathe a word of this, I will personally -"
"Draco..." Drakul waved him out. "Not another word." Malfoy looked murderous, but left the room. Drakul looked back to Ron, who was still looking shocked beyond words.
"Draco Malfoy is my cousin... many, many times removed. Once in a while, my presence is expected at the Malfoy manor." Drakul sighed. "The Malfoys were not always a bad lot... but enough about the Malfoys. I expect you want to know more about me."
"Who are you?" Morag asked.
"Do you want my name or my history, Morag?" Drakul smiled. "I had better start from the beginning... you two had better sit down," she spoke to Ron and Hermione. Ron flopped down next to Harry, while Hermione grudgingly - and suspiciously - sat down.
"My name is Arachne Targoviste Drakul of Wallachia. Or rather, Princess of Wallachia now, but it is no longer a country... daughter of Vlad Dracula, sister to Mihnea Dracula. I am... as Draco said, Nosferatu. It is one of the names for the oldest kinds of vampires in the world. I was a witch, before I Changed. My whole family had magic, but they were in no way vampires. Ironic, isn't it? Now where to? I've told you about me. What else is there?"
"Your family. These books do not tell much about them," Hermione whispered.
Drakul nodded. "Yes, my family. What a horror.
"I lived in Wallachia... what's now part of Romania. I was named for Targoviste, our capital. My grandfather was Vlad Dracul, the 'devil.' He killed on a massive scale... warred against the Roman Empire -and- the Turkish people. He bit off more than he could chew. The Turks caught up with him, and made him swear allegiance. He gave his two sons, Dracula (my father) and Radu (my uncle). But as soon as he was out of the Turks' reach, Dracul took up arms against the Turks again. My father was much angered. His view of mankind turned twisted... but he did escape the Turks and went back to Wallachia. He took Radu with him, by the way.
"When Dracul died, my father became Prince of Wallachia and did many gruesome things. I shall not go into this, but he killed both Romans and Turks, and did not care of the race, religion or culture. He was beheaded, as my grandfather, uncles (Radu escaped this fate, but he did die; I was there) and brother did. There is my family."
"That didn't happen seven hundred years ago." Hermione whispered. She looked positively horrified.
Drakul laughed. Entranced they stared at her teeth. Perfectly white, straight but... fangs. "That is why I do not smile," Drakul grinned at them. "It is too obvious. But you are right, Hermione. This happened around five to six thousand years ago. I am not sure why the books never got the year correct..." Drakul looked thoughtful. "Or was it because I did not know? What else is there?"
"How did it happen?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked.
"Oh. That. Of course." Drakul looked at Hermione. "May I see that book, Hermione?"
Hermione slowly got up, and suspiciously eyed Drakul, but placed the book on the vampire's desk. "Thank you. And I promise I won't bite." The students blanched at her words. Drakul only opened the thick book on vampires, and flipped through it.
"Ah. All right. Here he is. This book calls him Hades, and Hades he shall be known to you."
"Who's Hades?" Harry asked.
"He's the Viesczy. My maker," she added, at the look on their faces. "Hades was not much older than I. He was from my country... his family was among those my father killed. Vlad Dracula had just been beheaded, along with all his brothers, and his son, except for Radu. He had a disease, and his condition had worsened that day, giving us that one chance to escape, so we did. I was trying to nurse him back to health in some shack in the countryside. We were wanted by the people of Wallachia. Prices on our heads, you could say. If we were caught, we would have been taken back to Targoviste and burnt, for trying to evade capture.
"Radu would not live the night, and I realized the family would die out if I did not leave. Do not mistake me. I loathed the name I bore and the cruelness in which ran through my family, but family was something no one threw aside. It was not as free as it is now.
"But... I stayed with Radu. He was the only family I had left... the only close relative, actually. I had others, but could not go to them, in fear of placing their necks on the block, so to say. I was certain that someone would find us and... but I stayed, and was determined to bury my uncle, even if it cost my life.
"Just after dark or so, someone did find us... only he wasn't... bloodthirsty would be the incorrect word. But my point is, he did not want the people of Wallachia witnessing what he had in store for the rest of us. He was after personal revenge.
"I think he wanted us to die as painfully as he could make it. Quite in my father's league he was. By Changing me, I could suffer, but would always heal just in time for the next round of whatever he had planned next." The Seventh Years saw Drakul shift uncomfortably in her chair, as if talking of this made her relive everything, though it was thousands of years ago, and that no proof remained on her smooth skin.
"So he made you into what you are?"
"Well, he made me into a vampire, if that is what you are saying. He made it as painful as possible, I can assure you. If you are familiar with vampire lore, you would know that vampires are creatures of seduction and all the sinful examples in between." Drakul smiled at the expression of disgust on Hermione's face. "I suppose that is true... I have never really been bitten that way... there is something in a vampire's mind that can numb the pain, or bring ecstasy. And pain... do you lot want to hear this?" Drakul was persuaded by the vigorous nods the teens gave her.
"What did he do to you?" Hermione asked quietly.
Drakul sighed. "I'm actually not very sure exactly what, but he inflicted as much pain as he could. I was Changed that night, right after Radu died, so in a matter of speaking, my whole family was swiped off this world." Drakul wasn't speaking to -them- now. they didn't exist to her now. she was speaking to herself. Her manner was not of one as teacher to student; but a one-sided conversation.
"I think Hades wanted that to symbolize something... either that evil was vanquished, or that someone was here to pay for the sins. I paid for the Dracula family's sins. I was the only one who did. Radu was too far gone, so Hades left him to die on his own, as he had me die his way.
"He pulled it out as far as he could, making the pain and death last as long as it could. He made sure I knew whom his relations were, and what was done to them, and why he was doing this to me. I have often wondered if he had gotten himself Changed for this very purpose. I did not exactly wait to find out. But all in all... I believe I was with him for nearly ten years. A decade..." Drakul trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. She looked nearly human like that. Nearly.
Her skin was as pale as ever. Hermione suspected a potion, making her skin darken so it would not frighten students. They all sat, lost in their thoughts. Each was thinking of the tale Drakul had told.
"Professor..." Hermione asked hesitantly, not wishing to disturb the vampire, but the need to know was pulling at her.
"Yes, Hermione?" Drakul turned to the bushy-haired bookworm.
"Before... you told us you couldn't be killed easily, then you told us Mad-Eye Moody couldn't -" Hermione bit her lip, but continued. "Why couldn't the spell kill you?"
"Oh. One of the Dark Arts lessons." Drakul smiled. "Do you remember what I said about resistance against spells and such? You will learn about it tomorrow," she assured the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. "I was not a strong vampire when I started out. I was given the barest amount of blood, so I could live the undead life. But I believe that a decade spent with my Maker strengthened me somewhat. I could tolerate great doses of pain, and ignore the usual vampire protection... crosses, churches, that such. Even the sun. Though, the sun has always been my greatest enemy. But... look." Drakul got up, and opened the cupboard behind her desk. She brought a bag down, and spilt the contents onto the desk.
"Come closer," she beckoned the students closer. Justin was the first to get over the suspicion of being bitten. Morag was next, followed by Harry and Ron. Hermione was last to come up to the desk, but soon forgot all, for this was a teacher, and this was a lesson.
The desk was now cluttered with many items a vampire would have been deathly afraid of, but Drakul seemed to treat them as she would any quill or textbook.
"Cross, garlic, stake, Bible... this funny little thing I have never figured out... holy water, rosary, mirror... don't know what that is here for... the whole works. If I had a priest, I would have thrown it in to." Drakul smiled wryly.
"You can... hold these?" Harry picked up the cross from Drakul's desk, turning it over and over in his hand.
"Oh, yes. I'm one of the true immortals in this world now, I think. There are not many who could live to become a nosferatu. They tire of life, and end up in the Gobi desert somewhere... pity really. Or not." Drakul shrugged her shoulders.
"Catch." Harry threw the cross at the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. She grinned, and caught it.
"Nice throw, Harry." Drakul looked at the cross. "I suppose you would not be satisfied without proof. You see, nothing is impossible. What is it, Head Girl?"
"Were you ever... evil?"
"Oh. That. Well... I am the 'daughter of the Devil,' if that is what you mean. Drakul was never a favored name," Drakul told them dryly.
"No. Not your name. You and your family. Did you..." Hermione was at loss for words.
"Participate." Ron filled the blank.
"You mean the 'lop off the peasants' heads game?' No, I did not." Drakul's expression was hard to tell, but she did not start reprimanding them either.
"So you 'paid for the Dracula family's sins,' when you yourself was not involved? Why didn't you tell this... Hades? Why did you take this punishment without complaint or a word? Ten years of torture." Drakul was silent for a moment.
When she spoke, it surprised them all to no end. "Alastor Moody tried to kill me with that same spell of years and years ago, when there was not a Dark Lord to face. His spell could not rival yours, Hermione." There was a dismissal in the statement and the students realized it was later than it seemed. They reluctantly left the desk area, and started towards the door. Justin and Morag went together, whispering fiercely as they went.
Drakul's voice stopped Hermione, Harry and Ron, when they had reached the door.
"You would make a wonderful vampire hunter, Miss Granger. But... you must get their story before you make an end of them. Goodnight."
*
Arachne looked over the lake, watching the moon's reflection ripple. The moon would probably be as close as she would ever get to seeing the sun's rays with her own eyes. A pity, really. But it has been so long, she had gotten used to living without the sun. Or rather, living in fear of the sun. Maybe it was awe, but whatever it was, the fact remained that she lived the night.
Telling her story had reminded her of what she was, and who her demons were. Living with them hadn't been pleasant, so she had quashed them down. Hades, Wallachia... Vlad Dracula... they were stories told by Malfoy elders to scare the younger ones. The Draculas had indeed been wiped from existence... save for a very select few.
Arachne was unwilling to let go of her past, and went back to Targoviste after her Changing, to seek out the scattered few relations. She would often visit each generation, seldom skipping a person. They were like a gateway back to her old life... a gateway back to magic, it seemed, so she made sure most relatives lived, knowing whom she was. No normal wizard would accept her as what she was, so she was forced to live among Muggles.
At first, it was starvation and madness, for she could not kill. So she was resorted to biting herself, and drinking her own blood to satisfy the thirst. It was a horrible time, but it did bring the halt of bloodlust very soon, which did not happen until two or three millennia had passed. She had stopped feeling the thirst when she turned thirty. Now, a sip from the wrist or a blood lollipop from sweetshops every once in a while would appease her.
She had never killed a human being before. Never. Not even those pesky Vampire Hunters or Aurors. As a young child, she had often been forced to accompany her father through his 'Garden of Death.' The rows upon row of rotting corpses was enough to scare a five-year-old witless, and that was pushing aside the 'meals' Dracula made her attend. He wined and dined beside his beloved garden, listening to his victim's screams as if they were the songs of birds, and drinking their blood as if it was the sweetest wine.
The pain... the deaths, the screams... nothing could ever force her to take another's life after that. A pathetic excuse for a vampire, no? That's what most of her kind thought if they even think of her name. A nosferatu who has never taken a life? A daughter of Vlad Dracula who could not stand the sight of blood? But look how far it had taken her. Just how far. Centuries passed, and she remained herself. She had remained sane and guiltless. It was always guilt that broke them. Even the strongest of them. The people they slaughter came back to haunt them. And into the Gobi they went.
But the ones who could kill and never feel a thing... those were the ones to watch out for. Like her father... like Hades.
*
Snape watched the dark figure sitting by the lake. He was up at the castle, prowling among the suits of amour and dust, until he took a glance outside, and spotting someone outside. It was she, the damned creature.
A true creature of the night, he thought sourly. She was sitting there as if she had every right to sit there and enjoy human pleasures. As if it was perfectly normal for someone like that to teach at Hogwarts. The werewolf was bad enough; at least there was a potion for him to take. But mistakes did happen... people forget to take what was good for them... thank goodness Remus Lupin got sacked (no matter what he said about resigning, he was as good as sacked) when he did. But that was in the past. If the vampire made a mistake... perhaps turning on one of the students - preferably Potter - then resigning. Hopefully before Christmas.
The Potions Master watched the still form for a while longer before turning away from the window. Let -her- wander the nights. He will lock his door securely tonight, and the rest of the nights.
Disclaimer: Most things belong to JK Rowling... thank you for letting us borrow your characters (can we keep them, please, please, please?)
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too - **he's a werewolf!"
--Hermione Granger, Prisoner of Azkaban
Chapter 3 - Lessons in the Night
"Good evening, Harry. You are early." Drakul looked up from her book, and gestured for him to sit. "Are the others coming soon?"
"I'm not sure... I mean, we don't exactly..."
"It's all right, Harry. I believe I understand." Drakul bent over the book again. Five minutes later, Justin and Morag came in. Drakul nodded at them, and went back to the dusty tome in front of her.
"Hey, Potter," Morag MacDougal whispered, sitting next to Harry. "Ready for Quidditch?" Morag's whispers hardly disturbed the room. It was strange that he should think to whisper, but Drakul was indeed studying - what, Harry didn't know - and Harry supposed all Ravenclaws had a respect for studying, and remained quiet, as long as someone was studying.
Harry grinned. "There's no telling, MacDougal," he whispered back.
"How was your summer?" Justin asked Morag amiably.
"I saw Krum in Diagon," Morag offered.
Justin grinned slyly (something you wouldn't see on most Hufflepuffs, Harry thought absently, trying to stave off boredom). "I saw Krum at Hogwarts."
"We all did."
Harry glanced at his watch, and wondered why Drakul hadn't sent someone to fetch the Slytherin bugger. Drakul was still reading her book, her chin supported by her right arm. She was absentmindedly tapping one fingernail against her cheek.
Typical of Malfoy, to be late for a meeting, Harry thought sourly. A loud snap from Drakul's book made the three of them look up.
"You may come in now, Mr. Malfoy," Drakul spoke to the door, startling the four Quidditch captains. But the door did indeed open, revealing Draco Malfoy, Git-of-the-Century.
"All right... as we are all here, there are a few things I need to discuss with the captains. First, is the change in referees... I will be refereeing the games, and will most likely oversee the... trials for the positions, if you will. Or, Professor Snape will oversee them."
"What, you?" Malfoy blurted out loudly, surprising everyone, especially himself.
"Yes, Draco Malfoy. I shall be the referee. Madam Hooch will not be available for your Inter House Quidditch games." Drakul brushed her hair aside, and leaned back in her chair. "Any more questions?" No one had any more. Malfoy resumed sulking in the back. Silently. Harry wondered if he was sick. He certainly would not be that silent normally.
"Good. Next, we... Professor Snape and I ... need the empty spots on your teams, so we can keep an eye out for new recruits during flying lessons. Actually, you can give them to Professor Snape... he will be teaching the lessons.
"I'm sure you know how the Quidditch pitch can be booked, and where you can find the game postings. The games will be starting next month..." Drakul paused for a moment before continuing. "I have been to the storeroom today, and found some of the school brooms wanting for training or playing in the games. I am surprised no one has fallen off the brooms yet. The alignments in some of them are quite atrocious. I am sure you felt that way when you have used them before."
"But what do you want us to do?" Morag asked. Malfoy was again uncharacteristically silent.
"Nothing. I only want your opinions. What kind of brooms should be used?" There was silence. Drakul sighed. "I must admit, I do not follow the new models as I had used to. The newest line is the Nimbus, I believe?"
Harry's mouth dropped open. Drakul didn't follow the... and she said she played Quidditch! A babble broke out, the three boys shooting advice and suggestions at the same time. Malfoy didn't say anything.
Drakul nodded slowly, taking this all in. She didn't seem to be bothered by the consistent flow of information.
"All right, thank you, gentlemen. I shall put in a word to Professors Dumbledore and Snape. You may -" In the middle of her dismissal, the door burst open.
Hermione dragged in Ron. They were both looking flushed, scared and carrying books. "Good evening, Hermione, Ron. What brings you here today?" Drakul greeted. She made to stand, but Hermione's wand was pointed at her in a flash.
"Don't move. We know who you are," she hissed. "Sit down, or what's left of you will end up on Filch's feather duster."
Drakul sat. "Very well. Interesting threat."
"Granger, what are you doing?" Malfoy drawled, quite surprising the other Quidditch captains and the Head Girl, not to mention her best friend.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione said shrilly. "I am saving your pale..." she seemed at lost for words for him, so she turned back to Drakul. Ron smothered a snigger. "How did you convince Dumbledore to let you teach? How many students have you killed?"
"Ron, what's she talking about?" Harry whispered nervously.
"What is this?" Morag stood angrily. "I want an explanation."
"She's a vampire."
Silence. Hermione's statement was met by total silence. No one spoke for a moment. Drakul's gaze was sweeping the classroom, from Malfoy's bored face to Ron's fearful one, and Morag MacDougal's skeptical face. She saw Hermione's steady hand and hateful glare.
Drakul stood up abruptly, and the reaction was immediate. Hermione screeched a spell that hit Drakul in the chest, knocking her back into the wall behind her. All of them watched in horror, as Drakul clutched at where the spell had hit her. She gasped for breath.
"I thought you said it would kill her!" Ron whispered worriedly to Hermione. He had his want out too.
"No." All eyes riveted from the Head Girl to the Defense Against Dark Arts professor. She was still out of breath, but continued. "Congratulations, Head Girl. Mad-Eye Moody could not best that, and he has tried... heavens yes."
Hermione ignored that remark. "What do you mean no? That's the... that's the spell!"
Malfoy winced. "Lower that tone, Granger, my eardrums are about to rupture."
"Hush, Draco." Drakul sat down again. "I mean no. That would not kill me. It would take more than a seventeen-year-old witch and a spell. Though, that was quite a spell. What I am saying is... I cannot be killed very easily." Drakul sighed. "This is not the time for a lesson, but you will have no less, I suppose."
"May I leave now?" Malfoy spoke up, from the back. "I've heard this before... Arachne?" Ron's mouth dropped. Malfoy noticed, and sneered. "No anyone can treat a Nosferatu like that, Weasley, especially not a Mu -"
"That is enough, Draco," Drakul spoke sharply at Malfoy, who shut up immediately. She looked at him, as if expecting something. Harry noticed Malfoy's cheeks were turning pink.
"No here," he hissed.
"Draco Malfoy... have you forgotten what you father has taught you?" There was a definite blush in Malfoy's cheeks. "You know who I am, Draco."
"Arachne Targoviste Drakul, may I leave now... please." If it was possible, Ron's mouth dropped further. A Malfoy, polite? Merlin, that was rarer than raining Galleons... real ones, mind, not the leprechaun kinds.
Drakul smiled for the first time in their presence. "Of course, Draco, good night."
Everyone was even more surprised when Malfoy approached the vampire, and kissed her on the cheek, and made for the door. Ron dropped his wand when Malfoy bowed to Drakul at the door. Drakul nodded once at him.
Before he walked out, however, Malfoy turned, and glared at the rest of the Seventh Years gathered there. "If any of you breathe a word of this, I will personally -"
"Draco..." Drakul waved him out. "Not another word." Malfoy looked murderous, but left the room. Drakul looked back to Ron, who was still looking shocked beyond words.
"Draco Malfoy is my cousin... many, many times removed. Once in a while, my presence is expected at the Malfoy manor." Drakul sighed. "The Malfoys were not always a bad lot... but enough about the Malfoys. I expect you want to know more about me."
"Who are you?" Morag asked.
"Do you want my name or my history, Morag?" Drakul smiled. "I had better start from the beginning... you two had better sit down," she spoke to Ron and Hermione. Ron flopped down next to Harry, while Hermione grudgingly - and suspiciously - sat down.
"My name is Arachne Targoviste Drakul of Wallachia. Or rather, Princess of Wallachia now, but it is no longer a country... daughter of Vlad Dracula, sister to Mihnea Dracula. I am... as Draco said, Nosferatu. It is one of the names for the oldest kinds of vampires in the world. I was a witch, before I Changed. My whole family had magic, but they were in no way vampires. Ironic, isn't it? Now where to? I've told you about me. What else is there?"
"Your family. These books do not tell much about them," Hermione whispered.
Drakul nodded. "Yes, my family. What a horror.
"I lived in Wallachia... what's now part of Romania. I was named for Targoviste, our capital. My grandfather was Vlad Dracul, the 'devil.' He killed on a massive scale... warred against the Roman Empire -and- the Turkish people. He bit off more than he could chew. The Turks caught up with him, and made him swear allegiance. He gave his two sons, Dracula (my father) and Radu (my uncle). But as soon as he was out of the Turks' reach, Dracul took up arms against the Turks again. My father was much angered. His view of mankind turned twisted... but he did escape the Turks and went back to Wallachia. He took Radu with him, by the way.
"When Dracul died, my father became Prince of Wallachia and did many gruesome things. I shall not go into this, but he killed both Romans and Turks, and did not care of the race, religion or culture. He was beheaded, as my grandfather, uncles (Radu escaped this fate, but he did die; I was there) and brother did. There is my family."
"That didn't happen seven hundred years ago." Hermione whispered. She looked positively horrified.
Drakul laughed. Entranced they stared at her teeth. Perfectly white, straight but... fangs. "That is why I do not smile," Drakul grinned at them. "It is too obvious. But you are right, Hermione. This happened around five to six thousand years ago. I am not sure why the books never got the year correct..." Drakul looked thoughtful. "Or was it because I did not know? What else is there?"
"How did it happen?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked.
"Oh. That. Of course." Drakul looked at Hermione. "May I see that book, Hermione?"
Hermione slowly got up, and suspiciously eyed Drakul, but placed the book on the vampire's desk. "Thank you. And I promise I won't bite." The students blanched at her words. Drakul only opened the thick book on vampires, and flipped through it.
"Ah. All right. Here he is. This book calls him Hades, and Hades he shall be known to you."
"Who's Hades?" Harry asked.
"He's the Viesczy. My maker," she added, at the look on their faces. "Hades was not much older than I. He was from my country... his family was among those my father killed. Vlad Dracula had just been beheaded, along with all his brothers, and his son, except for Radu. He had a disease, and his condition had worsened that day, giving us that one chance to escape, so we did. I was trying to nurse him back to health in some shack in the countryside. We were wanted by the people of Wallachia. Prices on our heads, you could say. If we were caught, we would have been taken back to Targoviste and burnt, for trying to evade capture.
"Radu would not live the night, and I realized the family would die out if I did not leave. Do not mistake me. I loathed the name I bore and the cruelness in which ran through my family, but family was something no one threw aside. It was not as free as it is now.
"But... I stayed with Radu. He was the only family I had left... the only close relative, actually. I had others, but could not go to them, in fear of placing their necks on the block, so to say. I was certain that someone would find us and... but I stayed, and was determined to bury my uncle, even if it cost my life.
"Just after dark or so, someone did find us... only he wasn't... bloodthirsty would be the incorrect word. But my point is, he did not want the people of Wallachia witnessing what he had in store for the rest of us. He was after personal revenge.
"I think he wanted us to die as painfully as he could make it. Quite in my father's league he was. By Changing me, I could suffer, but would always heal just in time for the next round of whatever he had planned next." The Seventh Years saw Drakul shift uncomfortably in her chair, as if talking of this made her relive everything, though it was thousands of years ago, and that no proof remained on her smooth skin.
"So he made you into what you are?"
"Well, he made me into a vampire, if that is what you are saying. He made it as painful as possible, I can assure you. If you are familiar with vampire lore, you would know that vampires are creatures of seduction and all the sinful examples in between." Drakul smiled at the expression of disgust on Hermione's face. "I suppose that is true... I have never really been bitten that way... there is something in a vampire's mind that can numb the pain, or bring ecstasy. And pain... do you lot want to hear this?" Drakul was persuaded by the vigorous nods the teens gave her.
"What did he do to you?" Hermione asked quietly.
Drakul sighed. "I'm actually not very sure exactly what, but he inflicted as much pain as he could. I was Changed that night, right after Radu died, so in a matter of speaking, my whole family was swiped off this world." Drakul wasn't speaking to -them- now. they didn't exist to her now. she was speaking to herself. Her manner was not of one as teacher to student; but a one-sided conversation.
"I think Hades wanted that to symbolize something... either that evil was vanquished, or that someone was here to pay for the sins. I paid for the Dracula family's sins. I was the only one who did. Radu was too far gone, so Hades left him to die on his own, as he had me die his way.
"He pulled it out as far as he could, making the pain and death last as long as it could. He made sure I knew whom his relations were, and what was done to them, and why he was doing this to me. I have often wondered if he had gotten himself Changed for this very purpose. I did not exactly wait to find out. But all in all... I believe I was with him for nearly ten years. A decade..." Drakul trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. She looked nearly human like that. Nearly.
Her skin was as pale as ever. Hermione suspected a potion, making her skin darken so it would not frighten students. They all sat, lost in their thoughts. Each was thinking of the tale Drakul had told.
"Professor..." Hermione asked hesitantly, not wishing to disturb the vampire, but the need to know was pulling at her.
"Yes, Hermione?" Drakul turned to the bushy-haired bookworm.
"Before... you told us you couldn't be killed easily, then you told us Mad-Eye Moody couldn't -" Hermione bit her lip, but continued. "Why couldn't the spell kill you?"
"Oh. One of the Dark Arts lessons." Drakul smiled. "Do you remember what I said about resistance against spells and such? You will learn about it tomorrow," she assured the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. "I was not a strong vampire when I started out. I was given the barest amount of blood, so I could live the undead life. But I believe that a decade spent with my Maker strengthened me somewhat. I could tolerate great doses of pain, and ignore the usual vampire protection... crosses, churches, that such. Even the sun. Though, the sun has always been my greatest enemy. But... look." Drakul got up, and opened the cupboard behind her desk. She brought a bag down, and spilt the contents onto the desk.
"Come closer," she beckoned the students closer. Justin was the first to get over the suspicion of being bitten. Morag was next, followed by Harry and Ron. Hermione was last to come up to the desk, but soon forgot all, for this was a teacher, and this was a lesson.
The desk was now cluttered with many items a vampire would have been deathly afraid of, but Drakul seemed to treat them as she would any quill or textbook.
"Cross, garlic, stake, Bible... this funny little thing I have never figured out... holy water, rosary, mirror... don't know what that is here for... the whole works. If I had a priest, I would have thrown it in to." Drakul smiled wryly.
"You can... hold these?" Harry picked up the cross from Drakul's desk, turning it over and over in his hand.
"Oh, yes. I'm one of the true immortals in this world now, I think. There are not many who could live to become a nosferatu. They tire of life, and end up in the Gobi desert somewhere... pity really. Or not." Drakul shrugged her shoulders.
"Catch." Harry threw the cross at the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. She grinned, and caught it.
"Nice throw, Harry." Drakul looked at the cross. "I suppose you would not be satisfied without proof. You see, nothing is impossible. What is it, Head Girl?"
"Were you ever... evil?"
"Oh. That. Well... I am the 'daughter of the Devil,' if that is what you mean. Drakul was never a favored name," Drakul told them dryly.
"No. Not your name. You and your family. Did you..." Hermione was at loss for words.
"Participate." Ron filled the blank.
"You mean the 'lop off the peasants' heads game?' No, I did not." Drakul's expression was hard to tell, but she did not start reprimanding them either.
"So you 'paid for the Dracula family's sins,' when you yourself was not involved? Why didn't you tell this... Hades? Why did you take this punishment without complaint or a word? Ten years of torture." Drakul was silent for a moment.
When she spoke, it surprised them all to no end. "Alastor Moody tried to kill me with that same spell of years and years ago, when there was not a Dark Lord to face. His spell could not rival yours, Hermione." There was a dismissal in the statement and the students realized it was later than it seemed. They reluctantly left the desk area, and started towards the door. Justin and Morag went together, whispering fiercely as they went.
Drakul's voice stopped Hermione, Harry and Ron, when they had reached the door.
"You would make a wonderful vampire hunter, Miss Granger. But... you must get their story before you make an end of them. Goodnight."
*
Arachne looked over the lake, watching the moon's reflection ripple. The moon would probably be as close as she would ever get to seeing the sun's rays with her own eyes. A pity, really. But it has been so long, she had gotten used to living without the sun. Or rather, living in fear of the sun. Maybe it was awe, but whatever it was, the fact remained that she lived the night.
Telling her story had reminded her of what she was, and who her demons were. Living with them hadn't been pleasant, so she had quashed them down. Hades, Wallachia... Vlad Dracula... they were stories told by Malfoy elders to scare the younger ones. The Draculas had indeed been wiped from existence... save for a very select few.
Arachne was unwilling to let go of her past, and went back to Targoviste after her Changing, to seek out the scattered few relations. She would often visit each generation, seldom skipping a person. They were like a gateway back to her old life... a gateway back to magic, it seemed, so she made sure most relatives lived, knowing whom she was. No normal wizard would accept her as what she was, so she was forced to live among Muggles.
At first, it was starvation and madness, for she could not kill. So she was resorted to biting herself, and drinking her own blood to satisfy the thirst. It was a horrible time, but it did bring the halt of bloodlust very soon, which did not happen until two or three millennia had passed. She had stopped feeling the thirst when she turned thirty. Now, a sip from the wrist or a blood lollipop from sweetshops every once in a while would appease her.
She had never killed a human being before. Never. Not even those pesky Vampire Hunters or Aurors. As a young child, she had often been forced to accompany her father through his 'Garden of Death.' The rows upon row of rotting corpses was enough to scare a five-year-old witless, and that was pushing aside the 'meals' Dracula made her attend. He wined and dined beside his beloved garden, listening to his victim's screams as if they were the songs of birds, and drinking their blood as if it was the sweetest wine.
The pain... the deaths, the screams... nothing could ever force her to take another's life after that. A pathetic excuse for a vampire, no? That's what most of her kind thought if they even think of her name. A nosferatu who has never taken a life? A daughter of Vlad Dracula who could not stand the sight of blood? But look how far it had taken her. Just how far. Centuries passed, and she remained herself. She had remained sane and guiltless. It was always guilt that broke them. Even the strongest of them. The people they slaughter came back to haunt them. And into the Gobi they went.
But the ones who could kill and never feel a thing... those were the ones to watch out for. Like her father... like Hades.
*
Snape watched the dark figure sitting by the lake. He was up at the castle, prowling among the suits of amour and dust, until he took a glance outside, and spotting someone outside. It was she, the damned creature.
A true creature of the night, he thought sourly. She was sitting there as if she had every right to sit there and enjoy human pleasures. As if it was perfectly normal for someone like that to teach at Hogwarts. The werewolf was bad enough; at least there was a potion for him to take. But mistakes did happen... people forget to take what was good for them... thank goodness Remus Lupin got sacked (no matter what he said about resigning, he was as good as sacked) when he did. But that was in the past. If the vampire made a mistake... perhaps turning on one of the students - preferably Potter - then resigning. Hopefully before Christmas.
The Potions Master watched the still form for a while longer before turning away from the window. Let -her- wander the nights. He will lock his door securely tonight, and the rest of the nights.
Disclaimer: Most things belong to JK Rowling... thank you for letting us borrow your characters (can we keep them, please, please, please?)
