Disclaimer: I own only the obvious, the rest belongs to JK Rowling.
Authors Note: Sorry for the long wait, but I hit one hell of a dead end with this story. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner, but make no promises.
-Chapter Five-
Severus was in the process of pulling the huge, borrowed beige sweater over his head, when the conversation from the kitchen actually turned interesting.
Potter and that Ade-girl had mostly been catching up with each other ever since he had stepped into the bathroom, and had nearly bored him to death. Now however, Potter had started a conversation that involved vampires, and he couldn't help but pay attention.
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"So, that Old Vampire still chasing you around?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, unfortunately." Tiaret replied. "We've had a couple of run-ins with each other since last time, and every time he came out as the victor."
"Does he have a name?"
"Yeah, his name's Ignatus. He's around 2000 years old, maybe even more."
"You don't have to fight it you know," Harry commented when he saw the tired expression on his friends face. "Why don't you just give in and accept it?"
"Lencho, when have you ever seen me give in without one hell of a fight?" Suddenly she glanced slyly over at him. "And what about that handsome Potion Professor of yours? When are you going to admit that he has chosen you as his mate?"
"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about." Harry replied. "Look, we were in deep shit, literally, and the only way to get out was for him to blast the wall out of the way. So I let him drink… no, better said – I baited him into it."
"No matter Harry," Tiaret sounded extremely wise when she said that. "You two belong together and will end up together, whether you know it or not. Trust me, I should know."
"Says the girl who refuses to give in to the vampire who chose her as his mate."
"Hey! He's 2000 years older than me. I set the border at eight years tops." There was a long comfortable silence between the two old friends. "What are you going to tell him about the blood?"
"The same thing I told your Ignatus," Harry replied calmly, "but I highly doubt that now is the time to talk about that; he's in the room next to this one, and you know how thin these wall are. And even if they hadn't been thin, I wouldn't be talking about it; he's a vampire, walls pose no problem to his hearing."
"Yes, that's perhaps wisest in this case, but
I think Ignatus knows about the blood."
"What lead you to that conclusion?" Harry asked with interest.
"Well, it was one of our little run-ins…"
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Tiaret sighed as she entered the old cemetery. Trust the Board to send her to Transylvania in pursuit of some fledgling vampire-wizard. Why couldn't Harry have been here with her? He was the wizard of the group after all!
The cemetery was extremely old and unused; the headstones and tombs covered with rotting vines and leafs, a thick fog sneaking its ghostly fingers amongst the stones. The little church had burned down long ago, and only the skeleton was left like an open wound in the countryside.
'Get in, kill the vampire and get out!' it was quickly becoming her mantra. 'In fact, I wouldn't mind jumping straight to the 'get out' part.'
Tiaret carefully began her search for something that could give her a clue if a vampire had used this place for nap-times lately. Her Slayer-senses were working overtime, and she nearly jumped at every sound. A cold, dead wind was blowing over the place.
'Heeeeeeeeere vampy, vampy, vampy!'
She quickly hid behind a tomb as approaching footsteps alerted her to another persons presence. The Slayer looked around the corner and spotted an old lady walking towards her. The woman was dressed in old, worn robes; her matted, grey hair placed in a tight bun on the back of her head; the face was in shadows.
'What are you doing here old woman?' Tiaret thought to herself. She wanted to go over to the lady and literally shake some sense into her. 'I don't have time to strike up a conversation, or follow you back home!'
There was something off in the way the old woman moved. She seemed much too agile for her age. Just as this fact registered into the young woman's brain, the old one looked up and straight at her. Tiaret stared into a pair of dead eyes, shining like cat-eyes in car-light when the moon hit them.
The Slayer barely had time to ready herself before she was wrestled to the ground by two thin, but inhumanly strong hands. She drove the stick time and time again in the vampires chest, but nothing helped; the fangs were getting too close to her neck for Tiaret's liking.
"Why does this always happen to me!" she growled to herself as she tried to push the vampire off her. "Get off old coot! … eeeew! Ever heard about toothpaste or mint humbugs?"
Suddenly the hag of a vampire flew into the air as if a big invisible fist had hit her, and landed several yards away from the Slayer – who took this break to get her breath back.
Tiaret looked around, but couldn't see anything. Then she turned and looked behind her. The Old Vampire that had been following her for two years now was standing there, looking extremely pissed off. He was glaring over her head at the old woman who was picking herself off the ground. The woman glared right back; a red, mad tint in her eyes.
"Get out of the way Tiaret." The voice of the Old Vampire was calm and reassuring yet commanding. "This is a fight between immortals."
For the first time in her life, Tiaret listened to a vampire and hurried out of the way. She seated herself on the top of an old tomb, and eagerly awaited for the fight to begin wishing she had some popcorn and a coke.
The Loogaroc-vampire, the old lady, circled tirelessly around her saviour who hadn't even taken up a defensive position; he just followed her with his eyes, carefully watching every move she made. Suddenly she jumped and attacked. The Old Vampire made a fancy motion with his hand and the woman was on fire. Then he made another motion and she was blown several yards backwards, landing with a heavy 'thump'.
"That's it?" the Slayer asked, unable to keep her mouth shut.
"Not really, there's more to come." The Old Vampire replied calmly, never taking his eyes off the Loogaroc. "Enjoying the show?" he asked turning to her.
"Yeah, the only downside is that I've no snack around." The only reply she got was a low, amused chuckle. "Watch it!" she yelled out, and just in time. The Loogaroc had used the chance while the Old Vampires' attention had been on Tiaret, to attack. He whirled around and delivered one heck of a blow to the attacker, who went flying once again. 'Okay, that must've hurt!'
The Loogaroc ran off into the darkness.
"Thanks for the warning." The Old Vampire said. "And by the way," he continued. "My name is Ignatus, and not 'the Old Vampire'."
"Hey, I'm no mind-reader. That's your department." Tiaret shot back as she jumped off the tomb and walked over to him. "You're hurt." She said pointing at the long, thin cut down his arm.
Ignatus looked at his arm in surprise. "Huh, I hadn't noticed. Not to worry, it'll be gone in one… two… three!" He was right. By the time he had finished counting the wound had healed itself, and the arm was as good as new.
"Wish I could do that," the Slayer mumbled jealously. "Thanks for helping me out."
"No problem, I owed it to that partner of yours, Harry." He looked seriously at her. "You are a lucky woman Ti, to have such a special person as a partner." There was a double meaning in those words, but for the life of her she couldn't figure it out. Ignatus grinned, showing off sharp, pearly white fangs. Then he took her hand and kissed the knuckles in an old fashioned French style. "Rest assured my love, I won't tell anyone about his secret." And he was gone into the darkness, leaving a slightly puzzled and overwhelmed Slayer behind.
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Harry grinned. He couldn't help it. Trust Tiaret – who hated the old fashioned French romance-crap, as she called it – to be chosen by a vampire who seemed quite fond of the traditions.
"What are you grinning at?" she growled trying to ignore the blush that had crept into her cheeks.
"You really do love him." Harry said.
"Do not!"
"If not, you wouldn't have hung around to see how that fight ended, but run off as fast as your legs could carry you. You did that when Mark pulled that vampire off you when we were recruits." The green-eyed man pointed out calmly. "And the fact that you cared whether he was injured or not, well, I'll let it speak for itself."
"You know I hate you, right?"
Harry just chuckled and refilled his cup with coffee. How he had survived without the stiff the first sixteen years of his life, he had no idea.
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Please review and sorry that this chapter is so short. I know, not much of Severus in this chapter, but I'll try to make it up in the next.
INFORMATION:
Ignatus: Fiery One in Latin.
Loogaroc: old women who have a pact with the devil.
Thanks to:
~*Moony*~, Deity, J. Lynn, Sev Rickman, Tara-Chan, LadyElaine and Salazar Serpent.
