A/N: It's been forever since I've updated. I hope you're still reading!
Uber-long chapter, just for your patience. P.S. I love the reviews! You all
are so sweet! Keep 'em coming! Recommend this to your friends! I want to
share the evil of Harry Potter to the world! Yeah, after I'm done writing
this, I have an appointment with my shrink.
* * *
There's a rhyme that little children like to sing. "First is the worst, second is the best." Those children are very bright; Second IS the best.
The other vampires started calling me the Second. I wasn't fond of the title; it made me sound as if I came in second place. But that was the only downside to being the most powerful vampire in the world.
Hermione and I moved into the First's mansion. Draco and Ginny moved in with us also, and kept a whole wing to themselves. We fed well every night, and slept during the day. There was no one we couldn't kill; I abolished all the First's rules.
Other vampires weren't so happy, mostly the older ones. I told them clearly, if they had a problem, they should confront me directly. So there were no problems.
Except for the one with Draco. The little bugger tried to upstage me in every way. He tried to be more vicious than me; more creative; more cunning; more romantic.
"Harry," Draco whispered to me one night, as we were looking for a kill. "Suppose-something should happen to you. Do you think-"
"Why," I began icily, " do you think something will something happen to me?" The two of us were walking along in the wizard district of Paris. It was just like England, but the people spoke another language, and their blood was tainted with fruity wines. We waited for My Girl and Ginny to return from finding a treat of their own.
"Nothing will," Draco added quickly, turning with me down an alley. "But just in case- it'd probably be best to name a successor to your throne."
I eyed the other vampire. He wringed his hands; his eyes darted around, never really resting on one object. "Like who?"
He bowed his head, trying to look humble. "I was thinking along the lines of me, perhaps," he said.
"Tell you what." I smiled easily, trying to be friendly. "If 'something' should happen to me, Hermione will take my place. Then you. Alright?"
He frowned slightly. "Alright."
Two nippy hands wove their way up my back, looping around my neck. "Did you have fun, Princess?" I asked the owner of the hands.
Hermione giggled as she let go of me, moving to my side. "I met a little child. I bit into him and saw the stars." She rested her head on my shoulder. "Isn't that right, Little Red Pretty?"
"Yes, Mum," Ginny agreed, appearing at Draco's side, one of her hands creeping up his chest, the other down his leg. "Anything good, Draco?"
"Nothing, luv," he answered, cradling her cheek in his hand. "But between you and me, I'm sure we can find something."
There he went again, trying to out-romanticize me! "Come on, Princess," I said to Hermione. "Let's go find ourselves a morsel."
* * *
Before we went back to La Infierno, we decided to stop back in London. Diagon Alley didn't empty until late, and Draco was being the bastard he always was, forcing us to stop by.
"She's pretty," Hermione whispered, walking with me down the road. Her arm was locked tightly with mine, her eyes focused on a twenty- something blonde. "Is she prettier than me?"
"Of course not," I answered honestly.
My Girl squinted at the woman again. "She's getting married, to a doctor. And she's going to have a baby," she informed me. "She told the daddy yet." Hermione's expression softened; her face became unreadable.
"What's the matter?"
"Where've Draco and Ginny gone?" My Girl spun around, looking for them. "Can't see them." Now she was distressed; she shivered in the cool night air, despite the fact she could not actually feel the cold. I took off my cloak and laid it on her shoulders.
"We'll find them," I promised, taking her fluttering hands. With a thought, we appeared at their sides. We were in a dark, dimly lit alley. A swarm of wizards, dressed in royal blue robes, were attacking Draco and Ginny. I smiled grimly, watching them use their own meager powers against the wizards.
"Help them, Harry," Hermione begged me. I turned to her, prepared to argue about how under no circumstance would I save Draco, but she looked too forlorn for me to say no.
Sending out a burst of power, the six or so wizards were blown back from Ginny and Draco. The vampires gave us a quick smile- and fled just as quickly. The wizards didn't seem to be harmed by being thrown at all.
~Thanks for the help, Harry~, I heard ring through my head. ~I'll remember you fondly. ~
~Draco, you bastard! You sold me out! ~
~You would have done the same. ~
He was right. That still didn't mean I wasn't going to give him a chest full of splinters.
A wizard pointed his wand at Hermione, but quickly dropped it when it suddenly caught flame. She smiled at the burning piece of wood and returned her eyes to the man. His body stiffened, and he didn't fight when My Girl snapped his neck.
Another man came up to me, brandishing his wand and muttering something. Ropes uncoiled from the end around my wrists, but they melted away like snow in early spring. Before I could retaliate, the wizard said another curse, "*Afaimasso*."
My vision became clouded, and I began to smell something horrible that burned my unused nose and lungs. Garlic, I realized quickly. I reached out with my mind, trying to sense Hermione, but my power was snuffed out like a flame. Everything around me sank into black.
* * *
~Harry? ~ I awoke with a start. Hermione's voice broke through the blackness in my mind.
~Where are you, Princess? ~ I asked.
~Alone~, she answered. ~It's so dark here. ~
I opened my eyes, and found that a thin strip of cloth covered them. Wherever I was, my hands were bound behind the chair I sat on, and my head ached furiously.
I tried to teleport, but I was too weak. How long have I been unconscious? I wondered.
"Three days," answered a man. I felt a pair of hands on the back of my head, untying my blindfold. Unfortunately, I knew the man.
"Hello, Severus," I greeted him with false cheeriness. "Long time, no see."
He came from behind me into my line of vision. "Too long," he added in the same sarcastic tone.
"Where's Hermione?"
"In a room identical to this." Snape waved his hand around, motioning to the door less, windowless room made of gray stone. "She is with another wizard."
"Bring me to her." Snape didn't answer me; he turned to the hovering serving plate in the air, preparing something behind his back I couldn't see. "Now, damn you! I'm the Second-"
He turned around swiftly. "It seems that you have lost your position in La Infierno," he told me. The vampire almost smiled when he saw my shock. "The older vampires have pledged their allegiance to Draco-or shall I say, the Third."
A terrible burning feeling of anger grew in my stomach, until I realized it wasn't just anger, but pain from not feeding for days. Snape turned back to the plate and carried a glass over to me, complete with straw.
This is pathetic, I thought as he stuck the straw in my mouth. It was blood; not human blood, granted, but at least it was something. The burning in my abdomen ceased, and my head cleared.
Snape took the glass from me and went back behind me. "What are going to do with us?" I demanded to know.
"Return your memories," he explained as he slipped and tied dark cloth over my eyes. "Give you the chance to seek redemption for the crimes you have committed."
I didn't have an answer to that; right now I was powerless. I sure as hell didn't want my memory back, and I didn't want Hermione to have hers. Throwing my power out to her, I called ~Are you all right?~
~They fed me, ~ she answered as I heard Snape leave the room. ~Blood of pigs. It doesn't taste as good as when we go hunting. ~ She paused. ~I want to go home. ~
~Soon, ~ I promised. ~Soon we'll be home. ~
* * *
Four mind-numbing hours passed before I had another visitor. I extended my weak powers, and found the presence was someone vaguely familiar, but I had no name or face.
"Harry?" Again I recognized the voice, but had nowhere to put it.
Another presence entered the room, this one filled with magical energy that made my head spin. "He will not recognize you," the other person answered, his voice filled with aged wisdom. "Once a vampire is sired, their memory is lost forever. You saw that with Hermione."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the elderly man told me. "My companion's name is Ronald Weasley."
"What do you want?"
"The Minister of Magic has realized that your band of vampires have caused many innocent deaths, and has asked that you and your consort were apprehended."
"You think these chains can keep me here long?" I inquired, trying to grin. "I'm more powerful than any wizard."
"Your power's in your eyes," I heard Ronald say. "With the blindfold, you can't do anything."
It suddenly occurred to me who Ronald Weasley was. "You're Redboy," I said, feeling proud of myself for figuring it out. "You were friends with Hermione."
"Professor, could I talk to Harry alone?" I heard a click, like a door being unlocked, and Ronald spoke again. "You bastard."
"Sorry?"
"You killed Hermione. Professor Dumbledore told me so."
"I did," I answered. "So?"
There was a clattering sound; Ronald was losing his patience with me. "I saw her, Harry. She's not herself anymore. She talks about hunting and killing. She's completely insane, wittering about blood, and stars, and her Red Prince, and Little Red Pretty-"
"Ginny," I said quietly, thinking to myself. Did she know what Draco was up to? Did she allow her sire to be captured?
There was a dead silence. "What did you say?" asked Ronald quietly.
"Ginny. You knew her?"
The room suddenly felt very hot; tension and restrained fury were building. "She's my sister."
"What a small world! I killed her, me and Hermione." Now he was very angry; I heard his breathing become shallower. "She's a ferocious little thing. Kills everything in sight-"
"Shut up," Ronald ordered me. Oh, I thought. He sounds so upset. Poor boy.
"She's not a torturer- that's Hermione and my specialty-, she'd rather just go for the kill. Did you read the article in the Daily Prophet about the three teenagers killed two weeks ago? That was all her."
"Shut up, shut up!" A pair of hands pushed me over, knocking me to the floor. My head slammed into the concrete, and began to throb. I heard Ronald took in a deep breath. "You aren't Harry," he stated calmly. "You're- you're a vampire. Harry wouldn't torture Hermione or kill my sister."
I felt confused. Once again, the pre-vampire Harry was mentioned. As strange as it sounds, it would be nice to meet him, see what he was like. I'd probably kill him, though; he would probably be dreadfully boring.
There were footsteps, and I felt Ronald push me back into a sitting position. "When you and Hermione get your memories back it'll- it'll be OK. Like before." There was a clicking sound, and he was gone.
* * *
For five days, I was locked in that room. I had no visitors; I was fed nothing. With my powers so weak, I couldn't even speak with Hermione, although she was most likely going through the same thing. Mostly I slept.
The faint clicking sound awoke me. The next thing I knew, there was something painful in my arm. "Stop that!" I called out hoarsely.
"For the spell," explained an unfamiliar voice. "We need your blood."
So they were ready. I was powerless to stop them from bringing back my memory. Who knows what I did during my life?
Suddenly a horrible thought struck me: Hermione would remember her turning. While Vampire Hermione wouldn't mind, the bookish schoolgirl would. She might not love me anymore.
"You can't have him," I heard a throaty female say. My skin tingled with the use of vampiric power, and I heard something crash into the wall.
The cloth was pulled from my eyes; they stung from the dim light in the room. A pale face, with onyx-black eyes and ruby-red lips, entered my vision.
"Thekla?" I asked raggedly. She nodded and undid my binds. "How did you-?"
"I just knew," she told me, looping her arm my shoulder to help me stand. "Come, Harry." We teleported away.
* * *
The vampiress set me down on a soft chair. She pushed a glass into my hands. "Drink," she ordered. I obliged; it was human blood. The wound on my bleeding arm slowed and shut; the needle-like sensation in my head ended; strength flowed within every part of me.
"I'm glad we got you out of there," Thekla said, mostly to herself. She stood next to me, wiping away blood from my arm. I stared at her; I hadn't seen her since I turned Hermione. So much had happened since then.
"Why?" She looked up when I asked my question. "Why did you rescue me?"
Thekla looked as if I asked her something like why vampires drink blood. "I am your sire. I am obligated to."
I laughed; if the sire-childe relationship was that simple, Draco would never of dared hurting Ginny's sire's and Hermione's sire. That reminded me- "Hermione," I blurted out.
"Harry?" Her ethereal voice came from the hallway outside the room I sat in. Getting up from my chair, I went into the hall, peering into each room. Hermione lay comfortably on a bed, her hands in the air, drawing invisible pictures on the ceiling.
"Hermione," I said, kneeling beside the bed. She lowered her hands and turned her head towards me.
"Harry," she began breathily. "There was pigs' blood, and a vampire- wizard, and the red-haired boy, and so much talking, and I saw pictures in my head of old things-" She shook violently. Hermione had reached her breaking point.
"Shh, Princess," I said quietly, crawling up beside her on the bed. She didn't speak. I began to hum softly, caressing her with my hands. Her shakes stopped. "Nothing bad is going to happen in Thekla's house-"
I stopped abruptly, looking around the bedroom. I had lived in Thekla's home for two months before siring Hermione. Wherever we were, this wasn't her house.
Storming off the bed, I tossed open the curtains, squinting in the bright sunlight. "Make it stop!" I heard Hermione cry. This wasn't La Infierno, or even London; it was a small town somewhere in England I'd never been before, lined with small houses and gardens.
"I lied to you, Harry," Thekla said, unexpectedly appearing at my side. "I said I changed you because the First willed it." She waved her hands, and the drapes closed.
"The First didn't want me to be turned?" Suddenly I wasn't sure what to think.
"The First requested it, but I did not do it for his own good. I did it for my master."
"Who?"
"Lord Voldemort."
* * *
They gave Hermione a new dress robe; crimson silk that accented her curves and was edged in soft lace. I was given a black silk robe. Voldemort apparently cares about what people wear in his presence.
Thekla escorted us through the manor to his chambers. His room was dark, the only light coming from torches on the wall. The room reminded of the First's quarters; dim, elegant, majestic. "My Lord," she said quietly, her eyes on her feet. "Harry and Hermione."
In the corner of the room, where there was no light, I heard a short, barking laugh. "You shall be rewarded, Thekla." A smile crossed the vampiress's face. "Leave us." She disappeared. There were the sounds of stirring, and of a snake's quiet hiss. A face emerged from the shadows. His skin was white as snow, his eyes snakelike red slits; the grin on his face did not suit him all.
"Harry Potter," he greeted me. "I have desperately wanted to meet you. I have heard about your exploits. I am impressed."
"It's nothing," I told the man.
"So modest," he commented, his eyes then turning to Hermione. "This is your mate?" She looked up Voldemort with inquisitive eyes.
"She is," I answered, now annoyed at the way he looked at Hermione. "What do you want with us?"
The Dark Lord was silent. "You have been a vampire for about a year now. Yet you killed the First and launched a massacre on Hogwarts."
"I like to have my fun."
"You and Hermione are strong. I will need you."
"For what?" I inquired.
He smiled, and went to the window, pulling back the curtains. Hermione and I backed away from the light. "For when their world ends, and ours begins."
* * *
There's a rhyme that little children like to sing. "First is the worst, second is the best." Those children are very bright; Second IS the best.
The other vampires started calling me the Second. I wasn't fond of the title; it made me sound as if I came in second place. But that was the only downside to being the most powerful vampire in the world.
Hermione and I moved into the First's mansion. Draco and Ginny moved in with us also, and kept a whole wing to themselves. We fed well every night, and slept during the day. There was no one we couldn't kill; I abolished all the First's rules.
Other vampires weren't so happy, mostly the older ones. I told them clearly, if they had a problem, they should confront me directly. So there were no problems.
Except for the one with Draco. The little bugger tried to upstage me in every way. He tried to be more vicious than me; more creative; more cunning; more romantic.
"Harry," Draco whispered to me one night, as we were looking for a kill. "Suppose-something should happen to you. Do you think-"
"Why," I began icily, " do you think something will something happen to me?" The two of us were walking along in the wizard district of Paris. It was just like England, but the people spoke another language, and their blood was tainted with fruity wines. We waited for My Girl and Ginny to return from finding a treat of their own.
"Nothing will," Draco added quickly, turning with me down an alley. "But just in case- it'd probably be best to name a successor to your throne."
I eyed the other vampire. He wringed his hands; his eyes darted around, never really resting on one object. "Like who?"
He bowed his head, trying to look humble. "I was thinking along the lines of me, perhaps," he said.
"Tell you what." I smiled easily, trying to be friendly. "If 'something' should happen to me, Hermione will take my place. Then you. Alright?"
He frowned slightly. "Alright."
Two nippy hands wove their way up my back, looping around my neck. "Did you have fun, Princess?" I asked the owner of the hands.
Hermione giggled as she let go of me, moving to my side. "I met a little child. I bit into him and saw the stars." She rested her head on my shoulder. "Isn't that right, Little Red Pretty?"
"Yes, Mum," Ginny agreed, appearing at Draco's side, one of her hands creeping up his chest, the other down his leg. "Anything good, Draco?"
"Nothing, luv," he answered, cradling her cheek in his hand. "But between you and me, I'm sure we can find something."
There he went again, trying to out-romanticize me! "Come on, Princess," I said to Hermione. "Let's go find ourselves a morsel."
* * *
Before we went back to La Infierno, we decided to stop back in London. Diagon Alley didn't empty until late, and Draco was being the bastard he always was, forcing us to stop by.
"She's pretty," Hermione whispered, walking with me down the road. Her arm was locked tightly with mine, her eyes focused on a twenty- something blonde. "Is she prettier than me?"
"Of course not," I answered honestly.
My Girl squinted at the woman again. "She's getting married, to a doctor. And she's going to have a baby," she informed me. "She told the daddy yet." Hermione's expression softened; her face became unreadable.
"What's the matter?"
"Where've Draco and Ginny gone?" My Girl spun around, looking for them. "Can't see them." Now she was distressed; she shivered in the cool night air, despite the fact she could not actually feel the cold. I took off my cloak and laid it on her shoulders.
"We'll find them," I promised, taking her fluttering hands. With a thought, we appeared at their sides. We were in a dark, dimly lit alley. A swarm of wizards, dressed in royal blue robes, were attacking Draco and Ginny. I smiled grimly, watching them use their own meager powers against the wizards.
"Help them, Harry," Hermione begged me. I turned to her, prepared to argue about how under no circumstance would I save Draco, but she looked too forlorn for me to say no.
Sending out a burst of power, the six or so wizards were blown back from Ginny and Draco. The vampires gave us a quick smile- and fled just as quickly. The wizards didn't seem to be harmed by being thrown at all.
~Thanks for the help, Harry~, I heard ring through my head. ~I'll remember you fondly. ~
~Draco, you bastard! You sold me out! ~
~You would have done the same. ~
He was right. That still didn't mean I wasn't going to give him a chest full of splinters.
A wizard pointed his wand at Hermione, but quickly dropped it when it suddenly caught flame. She smiled at the burning piece of wood and returned her eyes to the man. His body stiffened, and he didn't fight when My Girl snapped his neck.
Another man came up to me, brandishing his wand and muttering something. Ropes uncoiled from the end around my wrists, but they melted away like snow in early spring. Before I could retaliate, the wizard said another curse, "*Afaimasso*."
My vision became clouded, and I began to smell something horrible that burned my unused nose and lungs. Garlic, I realized quickly. I reached out with my mind, trying to sense Hermione, but my power was snuffed out like a flame. Everything around me sank into black.
* * *
~Harry? ~ I awoke with a start. Hermione's voice broke through the blackness in my mind.
~Where are you, Princess? ~ I asked.
~Alone~, she answered. ~It's so dark here. ~
I opened my eyes, and found that a thin strip of cloth covered them. Wherever I was, my hands were bound behind the chair I sat on, and my head ached furiously.
I tried to teleport, but I was too weak. How long have I been unconscious? I wondered.
"Three days," answered a man. I felt a pair of hands on the back of my head, untying my blindfold. Unfortunately, I knew the man.
"Hello, Severus," I greeted him with false cheeriness. "Long time, no see."
He came from behind me into my line of vision. "Too long," he added in the same sarcastic tone.
"Where's Hermione?"
"In a room identical to this." Snape waved his hand around, motioning to the door less, windowless room made of gray stone. "She is with another wizard."
"Bring me to her." Snape didn't answer me; he turned to the hovering serving plate in the air, preparing something behind his back I couldn't see. "Now, damn you! I'm the Second-"
He turned around swiftly. "It seems that you have lost your position in La Infierno," he told me. The vampire almost smiled when he saw my shock. "The older vampires have pledged their allegiance to Draco-or shall I say, the Third."
A terrible burning feeling of anger grew in my stomach, until I realized it wasn't just anger, but pain from not feeding for days. Snape turned back to the plate and carried a glass over to me, complete with straw.
This is pathetic, I thought as he stuck the straw in my mouth. It was blood; not human blood, granted, but at least it was something. The burning in my abdomen ceased, and my head cleared.
Snape took the glass from me and went back behind me. "What are going to do with us?" I demanded to know.
"Return your memories," he explained as he slipped and tied dark cloth over my eyes. "Give you the chance to seek redemption for the crimes you have committed."
I didn't have an answer to that; right now I was powerless. I sure as hell didn't want my memory back, and I didn't want Hermione to have hers. Throwing my power out to her, I called ~Are you all right?~
~They fed me, ~ she answered as I heard Snape leave the room. ~Blood of pigs. It doesn't taste as good as when we go hunting. ~ She paused. ~I want to go home. ~
~Soon, ~ I promised. ~Soon we'll be home. ~
* * *
Four mind-numbing hours passed before I had another visitor. I extended my weak powers, and found the presence was someone vaguely familiar, but I had no name or face.
"Harry?" Again I recognized the voice, but had nowhere to put it.
Another presence entered the room, this one filled with magical energy that made my head spin. "He will not recognize you," the other person answered, his voice filled with aged wisdom. "Once a vampire is sired, their memory is lost forever. You saw that with Hermione."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the elderly man told me. "My companion's name is Ronald Weasley."
"What do you want?"
"The Minister of Magic has realized that your band of vampires have caused many innocent deaths, and has asked that you and your consort were apprehended."
"You think these chains can keep me here long?" I inquired, trying to grin. "I'm more powerful than any wizard."
"Your power's in your eyes," I heard Ronald say. "With the blindfold, you can't do anything."
It suddenly occurred to me who Ronald Weasley was. "You're Redboy," I said, feeling proud of myself for figuring it out. "You were friends with Hermione."
"Professor, could I talk to Harry alone?" I heard a click, like a door being unlocked, and Ronald spoke again. "You bastard."
"Sorry?"
"You killed Hermione. Professor Dumbledore told me so."
"I did," I answered. "So?"
There was a clattering sound; Ronald was losing his patience with me. "I saw her, Harry. She's not herself anymore. She talks about hunting and killing. She's completely insane, wittering about blood, and stars, and her Red Prince, and Little Red Pretty-"
"Ginny," I said quietly, thinking to myself. Did she know what Draco was up to? Did she allow her sire to be captured?
There was a dead silence. "What did you say?" asked Ronald quietly.
"Ginny. You knew her?"
The room suddenly felt very hot; tension and restrained fury were building. "She's my sister."
"What a small world! I killed her, me and Hermione." Now he was very angry; I heard his breathing become shallower. "She's a ferocious little thing. Kills everything in sight-"
"Shut up," Ronald ordered me. Oh, I thought. He sounds so upset. Poor boy.
"She's not a torturer- that's Hermione and my specialty-, she'd rather just go for the kill. Did you read the article in the Daily Prophet about the three teenagers killed two weeks ago? That was all her."
"Shut up, shut up!" A pair of hands pushed me over, knocking me to the floor. My head slammed into the concrete, and began to throb. I heard Ronald took in a deep breath. "You aren't Harry," he stated calmly. "You're- you're a vampire. Harry wouldn't torture Hermione or kill my sister."
I felt confused. Once again, the pre-vampire Harry was mentioned. As strange as it sounds, it would be nice to meet him, see what he was like. I'd probably kill him, though; he would probably be dreadfully boring.
There were footsteps, and I felt Ronald push me back into a sitting position. "When you and Hermione get your memories back it'll- it'll be OK. Like before." There was a clicking sound, and he was gone.
* * *
For five days, I was locked in that room. I had no visitors; I was fed nothing. With my powers so weak, I couldn't even speak with Hermione, although she was most likely going through the same thing. Mostly I slept.
The faint clicking sound awoke me. The next thing I knew, there was something painful in my arm. "Stop that!" I called out hoarsely.
"For the spell," explained an unfamiliar voice. "We need your blood."
So they were ready. I was powerless to stop them from bringing back my memory. Who knows what I did during my life?
Suddenly a horrible thought struck me: Hermione would remember her turning. While Vampire Hermione wouldn't mind, the bookish schoolgirl would. She might not love me anymore.
"You can't have him," I heard a throaty female say. My skin tingled with the use of vampiric power, and I heard something crash into the wall.
The cloth was pulled from my eyes; they stung from the dim light in the room. A pale face, with onyx-black eyes and ruby-red lips, entered my vision.
"Thekla?" I asked raggedly. She nodded and undid my binds. "How did you-?"
"I just knew," she told me, looping her arm my shoulder to help me stand. "Come, Harry." We teleported away.
* * *
The vampiress set me down on a soft chair. She pushed a glass into my hands. "Drink," she ordered. I obliged; it was human blood. The wound on my bleeding arm slowed and shut; the needle-like sensation in my head ended; strength flowed within every part of me.
"I'm glad we got you out of there," Thekla said, mostly to herself. She stood next to me, wiping away blood from my arm. I stared at her; I hadn't seen her since I turned Hermione. So much had happened since then.
"Why?" She looked up when I asked my question. "Why did you rescue me?"
Thekla looked as if I asked her something like why vampires drink blood. "I am your sire. I am obligated to."
I laughed; if the sire-childe relationship was that simple, Draco would never of dared hurting Ginny's sire's and Hermione's sire. That reminded me- "Hermione," I blurted out.
"Harry?" Her ethereal voice came from the hallway outside the room I sat in. Getting up from my chair, I went into the hall, peering into each room. Hermione lay comfortably on a bed, her hands in the air, drawing invisible pictures on the ceiling.
"Hermione," I said, kneeling beside the bed. She lowered her hands and turned her head towards me.
"Harry," she began breathily. "There was pigs' blood, and a vampire- wizard, and the red-haired boy, and so much talking, and I saw pictures in my head of old things-" She shook violently. Hermione had reached her breaking point.
"Shh, Princess," I said quietly, crawling up beside her on the bed. She didn't speak. I began to hum softly, caressing her with my hands. Her shakes stopped. "Nothing bad is going to happen in Thekla's house-"
I stopped abruptly, looking around the bedroom. I had lived in Thekla's home for two months before siring Hermione. Wherever we were, this wasn't her house.
Storming off the bed, I tossed open the curtains, squinting in the bright sunlight. "Make it stop!" I heard Hermione cry. This wasn't La Infierno, or even London; it was a small town somewhere in England I'd never been before, lined with small houses and gardens.
"I lied to you, Harry," Thekla said, unexpectedly appearing at my side. "I said I changed you because the First willed it." She waved her hands, and the drapes closed.
"The First didn't want me to be turned?" Suddenly I wasn't sure what to think.
"The First requested it, but I did not do it for his own good. I did it for my master."
"Who?"
"Lord Voldemort."
* * *
They gave Hermione a new dress robe; crimson silk that accented her curves and was edged in soft lace. I was given a black silk robe. Voldemort apparently cares about what people wear in his presence.
Thekla escorted us through the manor to his chambers. His room was dark, the only light coming from torches on the wall. The room reminded of the First's quarters; dim, elegant, majestic. "My Lord," she said quietly, her eyes on her feet. "Harry and Hermione."
In the corner of the room, where there was no light, I heard a short, barking laugh. "You shall be rewarded, Thekla." A smile crossed the vampiress's face. "Leave us." She disappeared. There were the sounds of stirring, and of a snake's quiet hiss. A face emerged from the shadows. His skin was white as snow, his eyes snakelike red slits; the grin on his face did not suit him all.
"Harry Potter," he greeted me. "I have desperately wanted to meet you. I have heard about your exploits. I am impressed."
"It's nothing," I told the man.
"So modest," he commented, his eyes then turning to Hermione. "This is your mate?" She looked up Voldemort with inquisitive eyes.
"She is," I answered, now annoyed at the way he looked at Hermione. "What do you want with us?"
The Dark Lord was silent. "You have been a vampire for about a year now. Yet you killed the First and launched a massacre on Hogwarts."
"I like to have my fun."
"You and Hermione are strong. I will need you."
"For what?" I inquired.
He smiled, and went to the window, pulling back the curtains. Hermione and I backed away from the light. "For when their world ends, and ours begins."