Night, a starry darkness covering the window in highlighted streaks of non-colour. Melanie stirred slowly, licking at a patch of skin on Virginia's neck that presented itself for her perusal. Salty sweet, with innocence flavouring the taste. She hadn't killed yet. Cold pink tongue dragging over white skin, licking at now faded fangmarks and the drops of blood scattered like rose petals over snow.
They would have to leave, no hope otherwise. She was glad, in a numb sort of way that Remus probably had stopped them from staking both vampires in their eldritch slumbers. Perhaps Snape had stopped them as well. It would be like the man. And in that blink of a moment, Virginia awoke for the first time.
Melanie slapped a hand over the newborn's mouth to hold back that first victorious scream of death cheated. Natural, but not the time or place right now. Not when they needed to sneak out like thieves.
"Quiet. We need to go, Childe." Green glimmering crystal eyes watched over the edge of her hand, and Melanie almost whimpered when a soft tongue was dragged across her palm. Ah god. Calm, focus, Melanie. And don't think about how sexy this little red head curled up against your side and licking your palm, dragging virgin fangs across the skin looks, feels, smells...god. She closed her eyes for a moment, then tugged Virginia from the bed. "We go. Quick. Silent. Death."
"Yesssssss..."
Melanie guided her across the floor, fledgling vampire stumbling in her coltish newness and creator stalking by her side. The blonde punched out the window, glass falling to the ground in shattering shimmers of ice, and then got up onto the windowsill. "Come to me."
Virginia climbed upwards, and Melanie wrapped her arms around her before letting them both fall backwards. Quiet laughter in her ear as they tumbled to the ground, leaving consternation and worry behind them. Mortality worried them not. They hit the ground in a flurry of black leather and cloth, rolling over on the grass and laughing, touching, a little glance slide of fangs across one another's lips and just being there. Then they fled.
The vampires were gone into the night before Pomfrey could do more then scream once.
"What do you mean they're gone?" Snape hissed at Pomfrey, the usually stoic woman dissolved into tears and hysterics. He went to the broken window and looked out into the night, knuckles white as he gripped the windowsill.
"This is all my fault," Remus said numbly. Most of the professors had come at the sound of Pomfrey's screams, and many of the students gathered as well. Snape had sent them packing in confusion and gossipy whispers with a glare, a few detentions and numerous scathing comments. The Slytherin House Master's back was straight as the werewolf crumpled into a chair, shaking hands over his face.
"Grow up, mongrel. Yes, this is partly your fault. But Virginia was meddling with things she shouldn't have touched. Shouldn't have been calling to the things she did. Now, we have to decide how to explain this to her parents..."
"You mean, I will have to explain this to her parents," Dumbledore sighed. "And to the school board..."
"I'll go pack my desk," Remus said numbly, making no movement off the chair. "They'll be firing me. You're the only man who'd let a werewolf teach in the school...and Melanie was someone I brought into the school."
"This is a mess," Snape hissed from between his teeth. "And I don't know what that fool of a girl thought she was doing in the first place. There are reasons why calling on the ancient Gods is forbidden! I suppose we must be thankful she didn't look to Kali, Lamamu, or perhaps even Ashtoreth. Because I think, they would have answered. Such power...no wonder that what happened in her first year happened. I think we have all misjudged that occurrence. Consider this then. What if He-Who-Must-Be-Named was seeking to dispose of a possible rival?"
"I thought Harry..." Remus began and Snape cut him short with a wave of his hand.
"Harry is the one named in the prophecy who's meant to kill him, yes, but I think that You-Know-Who would be far more displeased if he was beaten and not killed. Merely vanquished. And I think that the one who could have done so has just been turned into a vampire. And as we know, vampires can control magic and they are always, always Magicians of the Blood. Very powerful dark and ancient magics indeed..." Snape continued to look out the window, where the two had fled, ignoring the fact that broken daggers of glass were cutting into his palm.
There was always more to the house of Gryffindor then appeared to the eye.
Draco paced in his room, almost feeling her movement away from him like a physical pain. She was gone. And she kept getting further away. Physically, and in so many other ways as well. A vampire. His beloved Cin was a vampire, dead and gone, lost to him. Infected with a blood magic that would warp her into a monster, a demon of the night.
And he couldn't even show that he cared.
He breathed in a deep breath, steeling himself as a knock sounded on his door. Time to put on the best performance of his life, while the girl – no, woman – that he loved escaped further and further into the night. Blaise opened the door slowly and looked at his friend.
"And this world is nothing but a dream of a madman, full of sound and noise, signifying nothing. There is nothing in the world that has not already been acted out, and I too, must take my place upon that stage," Draco said dreamily, picking up an earring from his bedside table. The dragon clung to its moonstone tighter and hissed uneasily. "Because in the end, nothing really matters and I am better off alone. Hark! Can you hear the sounds of the hounds of war, clamouring at the gates?"
Blaise stared at the Malfoy, who began to laugh then broke off into harsh choking sobs. He closed the door quietly, then went back downstairs to find Snape. "Sir?"
Snape turned, robes whispering along the stones. "Yes, Zabini?"
"I think Malfoy's gone mad."