Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. They belong to JKR. Nor do I own the Louvre Museum, or the vampires – they belong to Anne Rice.
Author's Note: This chapter is a lot longer than the previous ones. It's quite important for the transition. This fic was meant to be a novel-length, but the first few I split into shorter sections that what I planned. I understand it's still moving a little slow. I'm starting to think I should have listed Romance as the secondary genre, after Action-Adventure or Drama. But please be patient.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed: Amiastine, E-Chan (twice), Adsila Dracoccia, crazychick77, Landry Anne, Aphrodite, Blanche Dubois, Sally all in black, MaryAnne177, Pucca, MiaMaria, Lena, and of course, Hell's Hauntress ;)
Sally all in Black: Vampires, evil? Of course not! =D
Landry Anne: Thanks for always reviewing ;)
Blanche Dubois: Hmm…I know you really want the "steamy scenes". Hmm…my plot won't have too many of them and when they do come, it'll be a little later. It is a love story, but not an especially sexual one.
Big thanks to Hell's Hauntress for beta-ing. Had to send it back about three times before I got it right ^^".
Chapter SevenHermione didn't really know what had happened between her and Ron back in the post office. Was she really expecting him to confess that he loved her? That even though they were best friends he had had a giant crush on her the whole seven years they had known each other?
Sort of.
She had wanted him to. Maybe he was going to say it, but she had ruined it for herself by hugging him and letting him off. Granger, you are just clueless, she thought crossly.
They were sitting in a magical escort taxi, driving through the bustling streets of London. To the muggles outside, it would appear to be an ordinary Rolls Royce, but inside, it expanded to fit all of them.
It was an awkward way to get to a raid, really. A rich muggle collector supposedly had possessed one of the Dark Torch Books and was exhibiting them and they had to go undercover.
Normally, such an exciting mission would have aroused Hermione's interest and she would have been researching for it intently. After all, they were spies, Aurors, the real thing.
But Hermione couldn't really concentrate. There was a pamphlet for the exhibition that she had buried her face in. It talked about the old man's mansion and his guests. Hermione pretended to be reading.
But how could she if Ron kept flirting with Lavender in the backseat???
"Ahem," Ron said, clearing his throat in an imitation of a haughty French gentleman. "As you know, m'dear, I am extremely wealthy, and would be honored if you would dance with me."
Lavender giggled. "I'd love to, handsome sir. But I fear that I may wrinkle my fabulously expensive Fairanarti gown."
Ron and Lavender laughed. They were supposed to 'blend' in with the crowd (which would made up of muggle millionaire friends of the host) and were 'practicing' for the part. They were only doing it to pass the time, but still…Hermione forced herself to focus so hard on the pamphlet ('objects of extreme rarity owned by Mr. Crenshaw Ord') that the words blurred before her eyes.
Whatever feelings of warm fuzziness she had in the afternoon with Ron was pretty much gone now.
His show of attention for her earlier was probably just friendship, nothing more. Nothing more.
"Hermione?" asked Remus Lupin, peering over her shoulder.
"Yeah?" she answered distractedly, looking up.
"You've been staring at that same page for about half an hour," he said gently.
"Are you feeling okay?" Harry leaned in from Remus's right. Hermione flushed. Remus and Harry were so conscientious.
"I'm fine!" she said, a little louder than she meant to. She quickly flipped the page. "I was um…looking at the nice painting in the front of the pamphlet."
"Well, let's go over our parts," Remus said kindly. "Don't forget what we talked about. If by any chance, Voldemort appears, we need you to help evacuate everyone…"
Hermione nodded. They had been through the routine countless times already.
"Remus, we've been over this way too many times," Harry said.
Remus sighed. "I know. I know you're all able young wizards, but we don't know if Voldemort is going to show up, and I'm still worried about you. Being an Auror is dangerous work."
Hermione tried to ignore the sound of Parvati's playful slap on Ron's arm and Ron's laugh and to listen to Remus. He had been one of her favorite teacher after he came back after their fifth year and was a personal friend of hers, and she genuinely respected him.
"It's okay, Remus. We'll be okay. After all, we've had a lot of experience, haven't we?"
After Harry reassured him as well and Remus looked satisfied.
In about another hour, they reached a district filled with muggle mansions. There was a particularly large one crowded with a lot of cars in front, assumedly of guests attending the event.
What kind of muggle would want to exhibit Dark Arts items anyways? Hermione wondered.
"Harry, Sirius, Remus and Minerva will come with me," Dumbledore said. "For now, the rest of you just keep the muggles away from any danger…if it does present itself."
Hermione Apparated into the mansion's grounds. She would somehow have to pose as a magician in the magic show (a completely absurd form of muggle entertainment).
Hermione then Apparated into the building's north wing, landing neatly behind a marble pillar.
The mansion was enormous. The floors were shiny with marble tiling, the windows on the high ceilings letting in plenty of light. Women in expensive dresses and men in tuxedoes were scattered about the wide hall. Tables covered in hors d'oeuvres lined them. It was decorated like a museum, with glass cases enclosing an odd assortment of items – a mummified horse and a grandfather clock constructed of seashells among them.
Hermione saw a white curtained platform with a sign that read, "David Copperfield Live". David Copperfield? She had him seen perform on the muggle television network. It was nothing compared to real magic of course, but was a still an amusing view of how muggles imagined it.
Hermione slipped behind the curtain, walking past the two helpers setting up. Backstage was a dressing room with the name 'David Copperfield' written on the door.
"Alohomora," Hermione whispered to the doorknob. It clicked open and she walked inside. Just then, a brown-haired man emerged from the washroom.
"What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded.
Hermione whirled around. "Are you Mr. Copperfield?" she blurted.
"Yes, I am! Now get out!" he said furiously. "What kind of security –"
"Stupefy!" Hermione cried. He flat onto the carpet. Hermione felt a small pang of guilt for stunning an innocent muggle. Making sure there was nothing wrong with him, she pulled a strand of hair from his head and put it into the bottle of Polyjuice Potion in her robe pocket.
Hermione gulped the potion down. Within seconds, she felt her body growing heavier. She immediately had to strip off her robes before rushing to put to find David's costume and put it on. Gross, she thought, trying not to look down at her new 'body'. I just hate becoming men. Hermione took her wand and the rest of the Polyjuice and put them into the costume pocket. She dragged David's body into a closet and left it there.
Hermione/now David paced around the room. She picked up a program and memorized the order of illusions she was supposed to do.
In ten minutes, she went onto stage. The curtain opened.
It was filled with muggles, most of them dressed to the nines in fancy clothing. Hermione picked up the microphone, the muggle voice amplifier –
The crowd stared expectantly at her.
Ooookay. My name Hermione Granger, and I am an Auror here undercover. I have used a Polyjuice Potion to turn myself into the body of a male muggle illusionist, and I will improvise until we can get out of here.
It was a very strange situation.
"Hello…" she said, with David's voice. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen…my name is David Copperfield and I am uh, here to entertain you tonight." Hermione looked out into the crowd. "It is um, an honor, to uh, be here tonight. Mr. Ord's collection is um…amazing. My first illusion will be…" Hermione/David's appearance looked to the assistant to her, who was standing beside a box. "Chopping someone in half! I will, um, now have my stunning assistant lie in this box and I will chop her in half."
Hermione/David's appearance felt incredibly stupid.
The petite little assistant waited for Hermione/David's appearance to come and boost her into the box. Hermione did so, and the assistant laid down in the box. Hermione picked up the saw and stared at the box mechanism for a second. But it practically worked itself as the mirrors behind the curtains worked –
The audience applauded.
Hermione/David's appearance felt a bit more relieved. Slowly, she started to get used to it. This isn't even that complicated, she thought, as the glittery confetti sprinkled from the ceiling. The show went on fairly smoothly.
"Next, I would be pleased to have a member of the audience up here as I will make him fly across the room like a bird…" Hermione/David's appearance said, getting used to the part. Then, her eyes fell upon a man in the audience that had just made his way into the front row.
Harry.
He looked at her pointedly. She gave him a small nod and invited him onto the stage.
"Hermione, is that you?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.
Hermione/David's appearance nodded again and proceeded to push a small platform forward for the trick.
"This is so weird," Harry said under his breath. "That Polyjuice. It feels like I'm talking to a man. Can't we call an intermission or something?"
"Is it important?" Hermione hissed. She had forgotten she was still in David Copperfield's body.
"Yes." Harry insisted, talking without moving his lips as much as possible. "We need to evacuate these muggles now."
"Death Eaters?" Hermione prayed it wasn't.
"No." Harry answered. "Vampires."
~
He lived a childhood in a happy household. A letter in a black envelope allowed him to learn and use magic in school. When he graduated he worked for a man with a black moustache. He became a young man. One night he drank too much and stumbled through an alleyway. He met the wrong person.
And there, his life changed, or rather, ended. Or perhaps it was traded, for another one, a different one. But he was never the same man after that. His human body died. His teeth grew long like an animal's. He used them to draw blood from human victims and kill them. Several times a night, every night for years and years, he drank and killed. The routine repeated itself over and over and over and over again. He awoke in the night, for he was banished from the day. He would fulfill the desire and be satisfied, for the purpose only of to carry on one more night. Humanity lost its value. Mortal life was his the fuel of immortal life.
He wandered continually through this endless tunnel of dark madness until he found others like himself who became his companions and gave him peace and acceptance. He learned what he was, what it was to love like an immortal and exist like a god. This was death, and he was a soul, freed of a mortal body. He was walking down an endless path, nor heaven nor hell but what something was in between.
And still, he continues eternity. His story is not unusual among his friends. He drinks just as I. I can bring your flesh to my lips and sink my teeth into your skin and suck on your mortal life, and for a while, it will become me. Then you will die and your soul goes to hell while I continue my existence on earth. Then I will forget you as I have forgotten others before you. But until then, I will connect to your soul. Can you feel my pain, as I can feel yours? Hear my thoughts, as I can hear yours? Feel my heart beat, syncopated with your own?
Thump. Thump.
Draco felt the lightly cold sweat on his forehead. He felt he should to scream, sit up and panic. Yet he felt calm. He could not see, but he could hear the erratic beating of his own heart. His hands felt themselves in the dark; he was blind. He touched his own face, which was hot with fever. He touched his clothing, his wand, and the Malfoy crest sewn into his pocket. He was lying down, and he couldn't get up. He was not tied down, but he felt too heavy, too tired to move.
What the hell had happened? Draco thought warily. Who was had he been dreaming about? What had been done to him? Draco remembered the two men, whoever they were. He felt a shiver of rage, partially because he felt humiliated at being captured. The other part of him felt disgustedly violated. He remembered Cho Chang, following her under the Dark Lord's orders. He could feel two bruises on his arm from where she tied him down with the cables. Draco scowled. She had beaten him in a duel. Draco hated to admit his skills were inferior to anyone's. How had she been able to beat him? Why had he been so careless?
Why had he been so careless? He had been distracted…thinking about…Hermione Granger? Was that the reason why?
The affect of thinking about her was like having strong green tea. Relaxing, yet exciting. That short chance encounter at Hogwarts was enough to make him go crazy. Draco's thoughts trailed back to when he had pinned her down on the floor. Her pretty little body much like a butterfly by its gossamer wings. A helpless, graceful butterfly whose gossamer wings Draco wanted to pick off. Or, at least her arms and legs. Mudblood, enemy or not, she was haunting him.
Draco lay there a little longer. Why couldn't he get up? Maybe he was unconscious and he himself didn't know it. Maybe he was just dreaming. Maybe it had all been a strange dream. God, his head was hurting now. He could hear that erratic heartbeat again. It echoed throughout his entire body, pounding his blood vessels.
"Aaahh! Aaahh! Aaahh!" he was screaming. He clawed at his own temples. His head was going to explode. Every once of blood in his body was erupting, bursting to get out of him! Red, then black, flashed before his eyes. What was happening to him?
"You'll get used to it," the man said calmly. He pressed his right hand to Draco's cheek.
The cold sensations from his fingertips cooled Draco's skin. The burning ceased, his raging blood calmed. But his head did not stop spinning.
"Who are you?" Draco gasped.
"My name is Ankar. And I already told you I am a vampire," he replied, in a voice barely more than a whisper.
Draco's head kept dizzying. He was losing orientation. His breath came in ragged gasps. "How – is – that – possible?"
"It is," replied the vampire simply.
"Why is he like this?" someone else was talking.
"He can feel it already. He can feel how it will overwhelm him," replied the first vampire.
"Feel – what?" Draco hissed. "What the hell are doing to me?"
He didn't answer.
Draco seemed to have had lost all control of his own body, which felt like it was made of jelly. The vampire, the one named Ankar, wrapped his arms around Draco's torso in a twisted sort of hug. Draco could feel his lips on his neck but he couldn't accept what was happening. His brain would not think.
"Ahh!" Draco winced in pain as he felt a sharp piercing of teeth on his neck. Then, all of a sudden, it was like the rushing blood in his veins that was a river had broken through the dam that was his body. The sensation was indescribable. His conscious mind was freed, flowing without his body to hold it down. And it flowed, leaving him.
Blood! Suddenly, he could sense it. He could taste it, coppery and salty. He could see the red before his eyes. It was liquid life, and it was being sucked out of him, through the punctures in his neck. He should have been dying! But it was something different; he was trading places. He was connected to another part; for bit of his consciousness that was sucked out of him, some of the vampire's was making up for it in his body. Yes, his blood was leaving, but his mind was only…moving around.
As the heartbeats linked, so did their thoughts, their memories. Draco was reading someone else's mind. It was amazing, impossible.
Finally, he felt the sensation slowly ebb away. The teeth that had attached themselves to his neck were dislodging themselves. The kiss on his neck left. The electrifying flow of blood was slowing. The other being that had been inside his body was leaving. Was it dragging Draco's with it? He felt tiredness, darkness, seep over him. Was he dying? No, somehow he knew he was not.
"Aaahh!" Draco screamed. What was happening? Something was wrong with his body; it was on fire again. His blood was pounding, trying to get out again. His body was aching all over, twitching as if under the Cruciatus curse. Draco had never had it used on him, but he could imagine it felt like what he felt then. What had he been dreaming about? It was so clear! Was it a memory? God, if his head didn't hurt so damn much!
Hands shaking, he reached up above him into the darkness to get up.
…A brown-haired girl with unusually frizzy hair put her hand up. "Frozen eggs of an Ashwinder, sir," she said…
…"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."…
…"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul – you evil – "…
…She was easily the prettiest girl at the ball. Her hair was sleek and shiny, and she walked gracefully down the Grand Hall in those periwinkle blue dress robes like a princess…
…"Ten points from Slytherin for insulting a prefect unprovoked, Malfoy!" and then she turned away from him furiously and refused to talk to him for the rest of the period…
…Her face was turned far to the left, defiantly refusing to make eye contact with him. Her hair was as tousled as ever, a stray strand hanging over her face. The roots of her hair were slightly damp from perspiration. Her berry-red lips were pursed stubbornly…
Hermione.
Hermione.
Draco sat up. He opened his eyes. It had been dark, but now he saw that he was in the candlelit room, the one where he followed Cho to – how long was it ago? He had been lying in…a coffin.
Hermione. What had happened to her? How long had he been there? He –
"Good evening. So you've waken up," said a voice to Draco's right. It was Ankar.
Draco turned to look at him. He had black hair, and was quite tall; thin under his muggle coat. His skin had gained a healthy tone; he now looked more or less like a normal person except for his slightly longer-than-average canine teeth – fangs. He was watching Draco keenly.
His face was familiar; everything about him was familiar. Draco somehow knew Ankar like a childhood friend; however it was like one of those loathsome family friends who you never really liked but had to get along with simply because your mothers were best girlfriends.
Draco wanted to have nothing to do with him.
He boosted himself out of the long wooden box that he had been lying in. He had to find Hermione.
"Do you love her?" asked Ankar softly.
Draco whipped around. "What?"
"The girl you're going out to find."
"How do you know I'm going after a girl?" he asked sharply.
"You were yelling her name before you got up." The vampire answered calmly.
This caught Draco off-guard. "I…was?"
Ankar smiled casually.
Draco scowled and turned away from him. Ankar did nothing to stop him as he stormed out of the room. He exited through the muggle bar.
"Heya sweetie," said the fat barmaid. "Missed ya last night."
Last night. He had been there for that long. Draco practically kicked the door open and ran outside.
"Draco!" He turned around to see Ankar.
"You don't know where you're going, Draco." Draco felt a wave of annoyance. Partly because Ankar had no permission to call him by his first name, partly because he was right - he didn't have any idea where he going.
"Who is she? Is she a Death Eater, too?"
"No," Draco replied instantly. "She's an Auror."
"But you love her."
"No, I don't!" he said sharply. "I – " He didn't love her. He just…wanted her. Liked her. Something like that.
Ankar didn't push it. "There was a raid tonight. If she is an Auror, she should be there. I don't believe Voldemort knew about it. Bardot and the others have gone there. They want to interfere with the raiding, for their own amusement. It is a muggle building. I can bring you there."
"Bardot?" Draco asked, slightly shocked. "A vampire?"
"Yes. He and the others. They like to meddle in the affairs of your war. It's fun for them."
Pause. Draco took a moment to swallow this new information.
"Would you like me to take you there?" Ankar offered.
Draco hesitated. A vampire was for some reason, trying to help him. He didn't understand why, he didn't understand anything that had just happened to him in the last twenty-four hours, but there were no other alternatives.
~
"Vampires?" Hermione said, her stomach rising to her throat. She didn't want to believe it. "Yeah, right!"
Harry glowered at her. "Why would I lie?"
Hermione/David's appearance looked at the expectant crowd and then at Harry. "How about that wonky book? Have you gotten it yet?"
"Sirius and Remus have it," said Harry. "But there are vampires in the building. I don't know what they're doing." Hermione then noticed how urgent Harry looked. He was tapping his foot very impatiently. "Get these people out of here."
"Okay." Hermione/David's appearance sighed. The crowd of classy muggles was getting very irritated at her stalling.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I have a great surprise for you all! This next illusion, in which I will make my friend, Harry here, fly, is so great that we will need to go outside to see it! Now, if you'll all line up orderly, I shall lead you outside to see the grand sight!"
"Damn, you're pretty good," Harry said, unable to suppress a grin. The crowd looked approving and started getting up to leave.
Hermione/David's appearance got off the stage to lead them away. Harry snuck off. Slowly, she opened a nearby fire exit and shuffled the queue of people away. It was getting late. She could feel her body growing smaller, the costume loosening. Good, at least she could use magic.
Hermione's body soon had completely transformed back to her own. She reached into David Copperfield's pocket and grabbed her wand. Hopefully, it would be dark enough for the muggles not to notice the change in appearance.
"Hermione!" it was Lavender.
"Lavender!"
Lavender, who was dressed in a tight-fitting red sequined evening gown, ran up to Hermione. "Hermione, there are vampires in here! I think it's You-Know-Who's doing, but they're here! Look, we have to find a way to stop them, they're - going around killing people!"
Just then, a herd of screaming muggles came stampeding down the hall.
The lights went out. The crowed gasped and everyone began to murmur.
This can't be good.
"Everyone, just please, calm down," Hermione yelled, now with her own voice. But no one was listening. Everyone was moving around in a frenzy. The mob that had run in screaming was panicking, trying to get to the exit.
"I'll – " Lavender began. But then their attention turned to a figure standing above the crowd.
He was floating there by magic. Hermione could see him holding up a wand. The spotlights were turned onto him, probably by magic. Over one of his arms was draped a limp body. Hermione would've thought it was a Death Eater, but Death Eaters didn't play stage games.
"Enjoying your magic show?" he laughed. It the same kind of echoing voice that Hermione remembered from her first encounter with a vampire.
"I know some of you among this crowd of mortals are wizards." He said evilly "Please give Voldemort and Dumbledore my compliments -" Hermione gasped - "and your dear Mr. Ord for this lovely party." The vampire brandished the body of Mr. Ord as if it was a large doll.
The muggles all either gasped or laughed. They thought it was part of a show.
Then -
"Good evening, ladiiiieeees and gentleman!" Everyone turned to look at the pretty young blond woman standing on stage – Lavender.
Hermione's jaw dropped. Lavender had grabbed the microphone and was stealing distracting everyone's attention. Hermione was half-incredulous, half-amazed. For once, Lavender's crazy, ruthless party-girl antics were doing some good.
"May I let all you all know you're a beautiful audience tonight!" Lavender exclaimed. "Now would all the handsome hunks and gorgeous babes please step outside to our outdoor theatre for a moment because we have a fabulous surprise waiting there for you…"
Hermione sucked in her stomach nervously. Would it work? Most of the older guests looked a little offended at being called 'handsome hunks and gorgeous babes'. Still, deciding between the crazy man holding their dead Mr. Ord in one arm and a charismatic, smiling young hostess, they followed Lavender out the door.
Please don't make this one a hypnotist, too, Hermione prayed, looking at the vampire. She began to dodge through the crowd to get to him.
Taking a deep breath, she pointed her wand at the figure floating twenty feet above the thinning crowd.
"Expell – "
He grabbed her by the wrist.
Hermione shrieked and dropped her wand.
He was a handsome, golden-haired vampire. His eyes were very light hazel. Hermione felt her body shake in fear. He was grinning evilly, having put Mr. Ord's dead body down. Hermione felt herself freeze up the way she had the first time.
RRIIIIIIINGGG! It was the muggle fire alarm.
Hermione turned her head. Lavender had managed to clear the hallway to the outside, but –
Flame! Tearing down the walls, the building was afire.
Hermione looked in horror at the vampire who held her captive.
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. His fangs found her neck and he sunk his teeth in.
Hermione gasp felt her body freeze. She could sense blood being sucked out of her. Red came before her eyes, then black. She could hear the rushing of blood and of two heartbeats at regular rhythms.
I'm dying!
I don't want to die!
Her head was lighter; her entire body was lighter. She was losing it, losing it…
But I can't! No, wake up wake up wake up wake up!!!!
Her hands fumbled into her pockets. She needed a knife, a wand, anything. Her fingers grasped upon a handle. Just stab him…do something…
~
Draco stared at flaming building.
"He did this?" Draco turned to Ankar.
"Bardot is like that." Ankar said forcefully. "She could be in there."
Draco felt a wave of hatred and frustration. He hated Ankar, Bardot, Cho Chang; he hated all of them. But what could he do?
He started towards the burning mansion.
"Draco!" he heard Ankar yell from behind him. He didn't look back.
"Draco. Bardot has his own ambitions and ideas. He doesn't care about human life. He doesn't know –" Ankar pleaded.
Draco ignored him. He took out his wand and blasted a window open. He didn't understand who really had the power in the situation; why Ankar was trying to talk to him into not being angry with Bardot; what Bardot was doing. But he knew Hermione was in there; and he had to go find her.
"Draco!" Ankar called again. But he was already inside.
The walls were still flaming. Inside the empty hall were piles of rubble. Draco broke into a run down the hallway. An injured muggle lay on the ground where he ran past. He started smashing doors open. The building was deserted. It was getting warmer as the walls seemed to heat in the oven-like stronghold. His eyes darted around the rooms.
Draco ran through more hallways. Would Bardot have Hermione? What would he be doing? Would he did what Ankar did to him? Shit, he thought.
And then, there he was: it was the blondish vampire; he was hunching over a small, struggling, figure.
"Stop it!" Draco yelled. He grabbed Bardot by the shoulder and jerked him off.
Immediately, and calmly, Bardot put her down on the ground. Yes, it was Hermione. She winced slightly as she was laid on the floor. Draco looked from her to Bardot in a mixture of hatred, anger, and fear. He dropped down onto the floor and picked Hermione up into his arms. She was weak, no longer struggling. Her skin was pale, her lips light pink instead of red, her thick brown hair was hanging lifelessly around her face, and her entire body was limp.
The entire building was getting hotter, less bearable. Draco felt the stifling air around them. He brought two fingers to her neck. Beneath a light pulse he felt two tiny punctures. So it was real; they were real; the vampires were real. He felt sick.
"Draco! Bardot!" It was Ankar.
He and Bardot began a heated argument.
"Is she alright?" Ankar asked Draco. Behind him, Bardot sneered.
Draco stood up with Hermione in his arms. He couldn't help her. He went to a nearby door and kicked it open. Hundreds of meters away, far across the mansion's large grounds were masses of screaming muggles. The house still burned furiously. Draco could hear sirens of muggle emergency vehicles. He walked slowly, still carrying Hermione through the deserted garden.
A distant voice was calling Hermione's name. Draco thought he might have been imagining it; it seemed so distant. Draco gently put her body down, and touched her cheek. Mudblood, Auror, rival, what did it matter, really?
The voice calling for her was getting nearer. Draco left, stood by a shady wall, and watched as one of her friends, and Auror no doubt, came and found her. He watched as the rest of them all of which he recognized, came and carried her away. Then they left. Draco touched the Dark Mark on his right forearm, but felt no urge to go stop them. Stopping them would mean delaying Hermione's recovery. She was safer that way.
Draco stood there, transfixed by his own feelings.
"I didn't know she was your girlfriend." Bardot said coldly. Draco realized the two of them were standing next to him. He didn't answer. Draco didn't like Bardot. He loathed Ankar, but he hated Bardot. Bardot was the ruthless, ambitious one. He reminded Draco of himself.
Ankar brought his face closer to Draco's to talk to him more privately. "Don't be angry. Bardot plays around with muggle affairs. We don't normally treat mortals with…care."
"What did he do to her?" Draco asked monotonously.
"What we do to mortals." Bardot said loudly, butting in. "Don't get so attached. And Ankar, you don't have to soften things for him. You're being a hypocrite."
"What did you do to me, then?" Draco asked sharply, before he could stop himself.
"We haven't done it yet," Bardot snapped, just as sharply.
Just what that meant, Draco didn't know.
~
Her children were hungry, but she couldn't do anything. She loved them more than anything. But their father was gone, and she had no money at all to feed them. They were going to taken away from her if she didn't give them what they needed, precisely what she couldn't possibly.
She was going to end her own life, just so her children could get help. She left her home in the middle of the night. She found a man to whom she sold some sex, the last time she planned to. He offered her a bit of sympathy and a few drinks to make her feel better. He offered her a better life, riddance of all her problems. She didn't know better and agreed.
He tied a physical connection of their bodies and she felt her soul come through, away from her dying mortal body. Her mortal blood changed, vampire blood replaced it. She was alive, she was never going to die…but still, her life pulsed within her, too stubborn to leave. It burned at her skin…it was wouldn't leave…it was too strong…
It burned! It scorched and boiled!
Hermione's body was on fire, fire, FIRE!
Her face and forehead was burning. Her sweat was liquid lava from her pores.
Then, -
Ice!
Cold, blue, wonderful ice.
The lava cooled to become a geyser, then water.
"Hermione!" someone was calling her name.
Her body was still too hot, she was still trapped within her own straightjacket of hot skin. She needed to get out of it, molt out like a serpent –
"Hermione, it's okay!" said someone. Hermione's hands scrambled to find the ice, until she got it. She pressed it all over her body, anywhere she could reach, until her entire body had cooled.
"Hermione." Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…her name was echoing.
She was waking up.
"Huuuhh!" she gasped. Her eyes opened.
She was in a hospital room. There were people with her. One had green eyes and black hair, one had flaming orange hair. They were looking at her intensely. They were familiar, but who were they?
Those are Harry and Ron…
Oh yeah.
It took a few moments. Slowly, her memory returned.
"Harry?" she said weakly. "Ron…"
They hugged her. It felt nice.
Harry and Ron. Their faces were sick with worry.
Then, a plump nurse walked in. It was Madame Pomfrey, their nurse from Hogwarts.
"Oh, sweetie," she said. "You're okay. You had – one of the highest fevers I've ever seen!"
"She's awake!" Ron yelled.
A tall, old man with a long white beard walked in. Dumbledore. Hermione saw the relief in his eyes. He hugged her. Then, a shorter man with a cane and a wooden leg came in. He had a magical blue eye in one sunken socket. It was Mad-Eye Moody, Senior Auror.
"We're glad to see you've pulled through, Miss Granger," he growled. Hermione watched as McGonagall, Remus and Sirius walk in and each give her a hug.
"Where – are we?" Hermione asked weakly.
"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries." Answered Dumbledore.
Hermione thought back to the raid on the Ord Mansion. The fire, the magic act…
"Where are the others?"
The adults looked at each other, as if pondering whether or not to share some bad information with a small child.
"What happened?" she demanded.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "Well…"
"They're in the other room with Lavender." Remus continued for her. "She was injured, too. Perhaps even worse than you."
"How…?"
"Well…" Remus's shoulders sagged as he spoke. "We don't really know. All we know is that she was hit by the burning debris, complete accident…"
Hermione couldn't speak.
"Most of the muggles were alright." Remus said, as if trying to comfort her. "Besides being shaken up a bit, when the emergency vehicles came…"
Hermione felt sick.
Moody and Dumbledore were talking to Harry, divided by a curtain from Hermione's room, a few doors away from Lavender's. Harry had gotten just an hour of sleep since they had brought Hermione and Lavender, both in serious condition, away from the Ord Mansion some seven hours ago. Hermione had been given a strong Dreamless-Sleep potion and she slept until then, the early morning. According to Madame Pomfrey (who came to work at St. Mongu's after Hogwarts closed), her fever had cooled.
Harry felt relieved at knowing this. Hermione was one of his best friends, and he loved more than almost anyone. Even though he hadn't slept a wink since being at the Ord Mansion, he was at least happy to know had she was safe. Hermione had lost a lot of blood, and her fever had risen so high she was nearly put in the Intensive Care with Lavender. After waking up and informing the others, she had fallen back to sleep. Ron was the one to give her a blood transplant – he had type O blood, and so Hermione was doing well.
Now all Harry and the others had to worry about was Lavender.
Everyone but Harry and the two older Aurors were in Lavender's room. It was apparent from the looks on Dean, Seamus and Padma's faces that Lavender was not in good condition. Parvati would not even leave her best friend's side. Lavender had not yet regained consciousness after getting first-degree burns. Harry sighed heavily. He was so tired.
Over top all the business with Voldemort, the vampires, and the Torch Books. Dumbledore and Moody put a lot of responsibility on Harry's shoulders. He had to be able to take it. God, it wasn't easy being an Auror.
"Wake up, Potter. Learn to get used to it. The point is to get right back to work when it happens." Moody was saying. He was looking extremely stiff, as if he, too, was worried, but just didn't want to admit it. Harry gulped and turned his attention back to him. "The Louvre is a very high-security magical building…a magical object hidden there won't be easy to find…"
"The point is, Harry, that we can't let Lavender's injury delay us from tonight's raid. Just because the book was destroyed this time doesn't mean tonight we'll be as lucky," Dumbledore said, pressing his fingertips together.
"I know…" Harry said. He rubbed his sore eyes.
"You'll have to bear with us for the next little while, Harry," Dumbledore said lightly, as if talking to a kindergartener.
"Sorry, something was in my eye," Harry lied.
Moody cleared his throat. "Potter. We've discussed this over. Destroying the books would delay Voldemort, without a doubt, but if the knowledge contained inside may be enough to defeat him. This time we need to get the book."
Harry coughed. "We'll have to become Dark wizards?"
"Not necessarily become Dark wizards. But learn Dark Magic," Dumbledore said.
"I'll do it," Harry said immediately, without really thinking. Harry was used to accepting assignments easily. He needn't trouble Dumbledore and the others any more than they already had. Even if they were terribly dangerous sounding. Become a Dark wizard…hell, he was already a Parselmouth and owned the brother wand of Voldemort's, how much worse could it be?
Dumbledore smiled subtly. Then he looked sad as he patted Harry on the shoulder.
Then, suddenly, Hermione flung open the curtain.
"Hermione, you're up," Harry said. Hermione observed how tired her friend looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, which were red from lack of sleep. His hair was even messier than usual. She stood there and stared, having interrupted their conversation.
"Please tell me what's happening tonight." Hermione pleaded. "It should be me in there, not Lavender. If we I can't help her, at least tell me how we can avenge her."
Lavender's parents and older brother were owled and remained in critical condition. Parvati wouldn't leave her side and stayed with her. There was a noticeable change in the junior Aurors; they were much more subdued and appeared seemingly expressionless. Hermione couldn't open her mouth to talk in fear that she would vomit.
Why hadn't she had the sense to take over the Lavender had? Lavender was the better Gryffindor, the one who made the sacrifice and was suffering from first-degree burns.
Did the others blame her? Was that why they weren't talking to her?
It's all my fault, I did it, if Lavender dies, it'll be my fault, Hermione thought wildly. I didn't manage to get that vampire! Not only did she manage not to save any of her designated evacuees, she didn't catch the vampire, the one probably responsible for Lavender's injuries.
And Draco Malfoy. Why hadn't she cursed him properly? Why did she run away? Why didn't she find the courage to – kill him? Why hadn't she been able to do it? If she didn't kill him, why didn't he kill her? Why did he let her go? She hated him, oh, so badly.
Hermione's conscience weighed all around her like being in an ocean trench. Hermione wished she had been the one injured. She wanted to be the one dying from burns. She was an utter disgrace to the other Aurors, the other Gryffindors.
But no, she was on her way to another raid. But at least, she had a chance to make it up.
This time, Dumbledore was with them, the other senior Aurors as well. Harry, Ron and Moody were sent in the opposite direction back to Hogwarts, while they were at an International Floo Station. There was no Ron-and-Lavender-flirting going on, not much talking at all. Hermione waited quietly with the others as Dumbledore and McGonagall checked them out and handed them a sheet of instructions and each a sack of powder each.
Hermione stood in front of the large fireplace with the sign 'France' over it. She was first; everyone watched her expectantly. She threw a handful of powder in and waited for the fire to glow green.
"Champs-Elysée!" she said loudly. And then she walked inside.
Hermione felt she must have been twirling in the magical dimension of the Floo tunnel for hours, though it was more like five minutes. Eyes shut tight, she finally felt her feet touch solid ground.
She stepped outside. It was indeed the Champs-Elysée Floo Station. Witches and wizards around her were speaking rapidly in French. A sign that read 'Sortie' hung at a door. She was in Paris.
They left the building and stepped onto the famous boulevard.
"I've always wanted to come here," said Seamus. Hermione looked at him. He looked so sad, nervous, worried – all the feelings that Hermione knew they all felt. She could relate.
"Lavender's going to be okay," Hermione told him instantly. She only hoped she wasn't telling a lie.
All of them were wearing normal muggle casual clothing. Dumbledore, seeming to know the city well, got them onto un autobus which took them to the Louvre.
Hermione had been to Paris before. She loved it very much. The Louvre was one of her favorite places. It was sheer grandeur, from the magnificent stone castle walls to the exquisite marble sculptures of poets that stood around them in the enormous courtyard to the beautiful glass pyramid. If only she was here on vacation, or a school trip, anything but a raid with You-Know-Who.
And that was not to mention the hundreds of beautiful works inside. Hermione had always had great respect for the artists, the many hours and hours they put into the art. She loved looking at them; she was never much at art herself, but she loved them. If she had to pick a favorite it would be the Ancient Greek and Etruscan exhibit. The perfect grace in carving each smooth contour of the figures was amazing. They weren't statues – they were alive.
"The museum will close soon." Dumbledore said, interrupting her thoughts. He was giving out instructions.
"I've called one of good friends, a curator who works here. I've explained about everything, and he's going close it for special circumstances. After the muggles clear off, we'll have to Stun all the guards…we've arranged for a large force of Hit Wizards, - can't possibly cover this whole place with just the eight of us, - they'll do the general guarding, but we're going to have to search the place through."
"Search it through?" Padma asked.
"Yes." Dumbledore nodded once, firmly. "We need to find it before Voldemort does. You'll need to de-charm every piece of art, every wall…and we'll need to finish it as quickly as possible."
If anyone else thought the instructions were strange, they didn't say anything.
Soon, Hermione found herself in the Greek exhibit.
Hermione was surrounded in marble sculptures and reliefs of Ancient Greek life. She began to use X-Ray Charms, Reverse-Invisibility Spells, and de-Transfiguration spells on every possible statue – the Venus de Milo, the Three Graces, and many more, every single one of them. She also repeated it on every wall, every marble pillar and molding. She went through each of the rooms. It seemingly took hours.
Hermione finally stopped to take a breath at the foot of the Winged Victory of Samothrace. She was surprised at how tired she was. She was gasping for breath. It was as though her lungs had shrunk in capacity.
"Death Eaters!"
Hermione shook her head. It was Dean. Death Eaters.
"Hermione!" he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. "Come on!"
"Okay," she said. "I'm coming." Hermione tried to shake the dizziness in her head away and followed Dean.
"We need to get Seamus and Padma out of here." Dean led Hermione down the long hallways until they bumped into the other two running down the same corridor.
"Thank god we found you," Padma whispered hurriedly. "There are Death Eaters outside. We need to get out."
Dean grabbed Padma around her shoulders and pulled her hard towards him in a protective, relieved hug. Then all four of them together rushed towards the ticket center, the area right beneath the glass pyramid.
The ticket center was the large, modern heart of the museum. It was built on the first level underground, and lead off to the main museum areas. Right in the center was a lift that brought them to the ground level, to the inside of the glass pyramid, that lead out into the courtyard.
"Up that lift!" Hermione said. They jumped onto it and magicked up.
Oh god, Hermione thought. Her eyes blacked for a minute from the drainage of energy from her body. She tried to ignore it.
At the top of the lift, they got out of the pyramid's glass doors. A pair of Hit Wizards was guarding the entrance to the pyramid. The entire courtyard was, in fact, surrounded by dozens of ministry Hit Wizards. Each was wearing a set of very strong dragonhide magic-repelling armor, and carrying powerful spare wands in their pockets.
"There were Death Eaters outside!" Dean yelled at one of them.
The Hit Wizard must have been ordered to recognize the junior Aurors. He nodded sharply. He gestured to some of the others and an entire troop of them marched past the courtyard go around the outside.
"I guess we have to follow." Seamus suggested grimly.
~
Draco woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a room in the back of the muggle bar, where Ankar and Bardot lived.
He didn't know what made him stay with them. He could have gone back to his own apartment after the raid the night before, but he didn't.
The room he was stayed in was completely dark and blocked of outside light. It must have been the way vampires lived. Ankar and Bardot had already gotten up and left. Draco didn't want to know why. It was early nighttime; Draco had a feeling that they had slept all day.
The Dark Mark simmered on his arm. There must have been a meeting that he did not attend. Where did Lucius think he was? Although he rarely came to stay at the Malfoy Manor from his own apartment in London, he would surely know something was wrong if Draco missed a Death Eater meeting.
Oh well. It was all past him. What good was being a Death Eater, anyways? He hardly knew what he was.
Suddenly, an unsettling thought came to mind. Was there a raid that he didn't know about, that Hermione was going to be at?
"Good evening, Draco," said Ankar pleasantly from behind him. Draco turned around. The vampire's face was rosier, healthier-looking than before, but still angelically beautiful. He had fed.
"Ankar," Draco said, addressing him for the first time by name. "Are there any Death Eater raids tonight?"
"In fact there is!" Bardot said heartily. The other vampire walked in, stretching leisurely. "And you'd like to go there to protect the girl from your own people, am I correct?"
"Damn straight," Draco murmured, his heart sinking slightly. "Let's go."
"We're in France?" Draco asked, disbelievingly. They had Apparated all the way, countries away, in one shot and without legal check-in.
"Welcome, young friend," Bardot said vigorously. "This is Paris. And we are standing on the Louvre Museum."
Draco looked around the beautiful city from the rooftop. The nightlife was amazing, even if it was built largely by muggles. The Eiffel Tower in the distance was lit up, her steel skeleton illuminated gold. The river Seine was shimmering with streetlamps. The whole city was lit up, the air warmed by the bustle.
But no, he was here for more important things.
"Are they down there?" Draco asked.
"Yes, probably just beneath you, now." Ankar answered.
Wordlessly, Draco lifted his wand and floated down, off the roof and onto a windowsill. He tapped it with his wand and it gave in.
Was he to find Hermione again, the same way he did the night before? He thought of her weak little body in his arms…how could she possibly be back, fighting, in one night? Then again, knowing her, she'd be too headstrong not to.
Where did he start? Inside the museum, the large marble halls were filled with displays of sculpted white figures. It had two large main wings, divided into hundreds of rooms inside.
Draco's eyes darted around the halls. He found the main walkway and went one way. The place was a labyrinth! He went through many rooms and doorways, the only indication that he wasn't going in circles were the sculptures…
Then, a Death Eater.
The Auror Draco had been chasing disappeared. But Draco recognized the Death Eater. It was Lucius.
"Draco." Yes, it was Lucius. Just an older version of himself. Draco would know his own father's voice anywhere.
"Why the hell weren't you at the last meeting?" he demanded.
Draco tensed. What was he supposed to say?
"Sorry," Draco muttered quietly. Then he ran past his father, who yelled at him as he dashed through the Egyptian exhibit. Draco had never ignored his father before. But he didn't stop.
"Draco!" this time it was Bardot. Draco had forgotten they were still with him.
He stopped in his tracks. Bardot pointed out the window for Draco to see.
Outside, dozens and dozens of Death Eaters and as Hit Wizards were dueling in the streets of the museum complex. It was furious battle. Flashes of light from curses flew around everywhere.
Hermione.
He had to find her before they did. For some reason, he had to.
The Death Eaters. The people of whom he once was a part of. The mark on his arm burned at that moment as if to remind him. But no, the image of her burned harder, in the front of his mind.
Hermione.
~
Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Padma stopped their running.
They were everywhere.
Death Eaters in silver masks and black cloaks. The Hit Wizards ran forwards to battle. Spells and curses ran all across the place. It was mayhem like they had never seen before.
"Shouldn't – shouldn't we try to help?" Seamus stammered.
Dean held Padma back with one safe guarding arm.
But they all knew they were completely powerless. They were Aurors – spies, special agents – not professional duelers. They had no protective armor.
"I think…we'd better just go for Dumbledore," Padma said, her face paling.
The four of them turned back slowly, preparing to leave.
"Wait!" Dean cried. "Look back there! More of them!"
More Death Eaters were Apparating onto the grounds, into the giant courtyard.
"Keep looking for the others, I'm going after them!"
"You can't go alone!" Padma screamed. She ran after Dean.
"Keep going, all of you!" Dean ordered. Padma refused to and ran to him.
"Dammit!" Seamus hissed. Hermione was just thinking the same thing. They started after Padma and Dean.
A group of about ten of the remaining Hit Wizards followed pursuit as well. The Death Eaters were running in an ordered formation, two straight lines heading for the glass pyramid. Hermione watched, in horror as they filed inside. Then, even worse, as Dean and Padma and the group of Hit Wizards went in after them.
"It's going to be a trap!" Hermione screamed. But she couldn't help it as she and Seamus ran, also, into the pyramid.
She jumped off the lift into the middle of darkened lobby of the world's largest museum.
Instead of continuing to run and look for the Death Eaters, Hermione halted as soon as she got off the lift. The four Aurors huddled around and the ten Hit Wizards formed a defensive position around the Aurors.
Hermione's hands were shaking. She was feeling dizzy again. But she stood, ready for anything she could imagine.
Slowly, their eyes began to adjust.
All around the room stood a solid black ring of Death Eaters. Easily outnumbering them ten to one.
"What do we do?" Padma whispered. Each one of them was a fully-armed, fully-trained evil fighting machine.
"Slowly," whispered one of the Hit Wizards. "Slowly."
They surveyed the room. The Death Eaters were poised and ready to kill. It would be too easy – there were ten Death Eaters to a Hit Wizard, maybe a slim bit less counting the four of them. How could there be so many? There had only been a handful run in from the pyramid. The others must have been inside already. A trap.
"Can we Apparate out of here?" Hermione whispered, trying not to move.
"No," answered one of their guards, whispering as well. "The Louvre is protected against it.
So they had to fight. They were slowly observing the Death Eaters, the Death Eaters, them. The tension was getting thicker by the second. Hermione scrambled to think of a plan. Around the almost-circular lobby were hallways leading into different parts of the museum.
"Shh," she whispered. "I have an idea. We need to trap them," she said. "Block each of the exits. Do you all remember the Secret Door Spell?"
The Secret Door Spell was a special spell that once cast, would not allow anyone through but the caster. It was a magical shield that blocked out just about all physical attacks until the caster reversed it.
"Oh yeah. The one-person door," Padma gasped.
"That's right," Hermione whispered. "It would block out all the Death Eaters. They won't try and run because their odds are too good here. But if we trap them…it'll be easier for us."
"In one minute, this place is going to be mayhem," one of the Hit Wizards predicted quietly. "I'll set up a shield for everyone, then you all Stun as many as possible. Then you guys do what you need to."
"Thanks." Hermione said. She could see the ring of silvery masks glinting in the hint of light coming through from the glass pyramid above them.
"One…two…three…" said the guard.
A force field projected around them.
"STUPEFY!" Hermione yelled. But everyone was yelling it at once. A dozen Death Eaters fell. Shouts rang out. Suddenly, it was sheer, utter havoc. Dozens of Stunning Spells shot around everywhere. The Death Eaters were dodging the spells while at the same time trying to penetrate their shield.
"This will not last!" yelled the guard. "Run!"
Hermione ducked and slid out from under the shield. "Invisibilo!" she cried. Several Aurors disappeared under their Invisibility charms. She dashed between confused Death Eaters and to the doorway that read 'Information'.
When she reached the doorway, Hermione racked her memory for the Secret Door Spell. Think of a personalized door, she thought. Books, quills, studies, Harry, Ron, she tried to imagine them all on a door. It was beginning to form in front of her.
A Death Eater was starting to stare in Hermione's direction. Was her Invisibility wearing out?
"Impedimenta!" she yelled. He fell. Hermione concentrated on the personal door.
Concentrate. Only usable by Hermione Granger, she thought. Once this door is made no one else can get through without my permission. She summoned all of her strength - just a little more – and said the incantation.
There – it was complete. A completely Hermione-controlled door. Hermione heaved for her breath. Her body was aching.
Now for that one, she thought. Hermione went to the next doorway. This one was much wider. Focus on yourself, she thought.
Just then, her invisibility charm wore off.
"There!" roared a Death Eaters. Hermione was caught off-guard. The huge man tackled Hermione and they both slid into a relief of Neptune.
"Ow!" she cried. Her ribs stabbed at her as they hit a wall. Her shoulder was twisted underneath her weight and the man holding her.
"I'm going to get a good one for this!" he snickered. The man stood above her. She couldn't get up and fight. She was too weak…
" Crucio!" he yelled cruelly.
"Ahhh!" she cried. An overwhelming pain all over her body – and then – everything seemed to dim.
~
It was Hermione.
Was this happening again?
This time it was a Death Eater standing over her. What was he doing? Was it a torturing curse? Hermione had fallen on her knees and her whole body was trembling.
"Avada Kedavra!" the words rolled right out of Draco's mouth. The properties of the killing curse came from his body surprisingly naturally. The flash of green light hit the man neatly in the back. He stiffened like a board and fell over. Draco was shocked. It was first time he had ever killed a man using the Avada Kedavra curse. And it was not an Auror, but a Death Eater!
Draco quickly got over this shock and ran over to catch Hermione.
She was still shaking. He held her up, unsure what else to do. Down the hallway, a mess of Death Eaters and Hit Wizards were fighting. Not like he gave a damn about them.
Hermione.
She looked so worn out and pushed to the limit that he was afraid she would break if he put her down. Draco felt his own body go numb, his fingers tingle at touching her bare arm. Suddenly, it felt as though his entire world, held up like the massive marble pillars that surrounded them in this gallery of gods, were melting, melting like chocolate put on a hot plate.
"Hermione," he whispered.
Her eyes were half-closed, but she had stopped twitching. She made a movement as if to get up, but Draco tightened his grip on her a little more to stop her.
"Seamus," she said, gasping slightly.
Seamus? Did Hermione have any sort of…relation with Seamus Finnigan? Or…was it just his blond hair?
"Get Dumbledore – we can't – beat them –" Hermione looked even more strained now.
"Hermione – " he said. He leaned to put his mouth closer to her ear. "Hermione, I'm not Seamus. I'm Draco."
It felt weird. In school, 'Hermione' and 'Draco' were never used by the one person in the same conversation. But no, they weren't in school. School was irrelevant. It was okay now.
"Draco," she whispered.
Draco felt his entire body start to numb. Every sound from the lobby seemed to mute. It was a strange moment – total enemies, yet, for that moment in time, their places had switched completely. It was a coincidence of the stars – an eclipse – no, better, yes it was better, more rare, even more amazing than an eclipse.
"It's okay," he told her. He sounded raspy and hoarse. "You can tell me."
"Draco, you've got to get the book. Before he does," Hermione said, her voice barely a whimper. She tugged at the sleeve of his robe. Draco's arm numbed. "He's going to…"
Then she closed her eyes. She must have been so tired to come to such a raid after last night. Draco felt her breathing calm. In the spur of strange moment, he felt stars close around him. In the darkness of the room, he could see every highlight of her skin. Draco brought his lips away from her ear, and gently, slid from her cheekbone, over her cheek to her mouth. His lips were tingling. He could sense every contour, almost every pore on her skin. He could feel her breathing on his nose and mouth. Her body was warm, the pink tinge on her neck, exposed by the neckline of her cotton muggle shirt, a sign of her mortality. Draco stayed frozen, their lips touching ever so slightly, their faces, close enough to kiss, but still, entranced and unmoving.
What was he doing?
Ankar and Bardot walked up from behind him. Draco was fully aware of this.
~
Draco still held Hermione's sleeping body as they walking away from the Louvre. Ankar and Bardot followed him a few steps away, helping him whenever he asked for it and for some reason never interfering in his mortal problems. They were still standing dutifully behind him, as if waiting patiently for something they knew would eventually happen.
From a far distance, they could see the pyramid, now burning from inside, the flames unable to escape the sealed glass and now burning out, becoming smoke. He could hear screaming. Did the Death Eaters and Aurors escape? What about Lucius?
To be honest, Draco didn't really care. Mostly he was thinking about Hermione being in his arms. He could touch her on the cheek, run his fingers through her hair.
Draco had never been in love before.
Typical Death Eaters. You're so stupid, so blind! All you want is power – that fool, Voldemort, does he really think he can become immortal by killing innocent people? You think you can have that power by following him?
Cho Chang's words echoed in his mind.
Mortal war.
Was he considering not being a Death Eater anymore?
Ankar, as if he had gotten what he was waiting for, spoke.
"We are vampires created from magical people. We live on human blood and we cannot die from mortal causes. We are giving you this choice now. If you accept it, you will become one of us. If you reject…"
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