Harry got quickly to his feet, never taking his eyes from the face in front of him. Ghastly pale, dark haunted eyes, hollow cheeks. Fangs. The vampire leered at him, licking his lips. Harry was caught off guard by the handsome creature in front of him. The deep, glowing eyes beckoned to him, calling him to follow a path foreordained by the darkness. Harry found himself being drawn towards the demon. One pace, then another, until he was finally standing right before it. The vampire smiled, opening his fine mouth wider and wider, until—
"Wotcher Harry!" yelled a familiar voice. Nymphadora Tonks hurtled into the cloaked figure, simultaneously knocking Harry out of his reverie. She pulled a sharp wooden stake out of her cloak, thrusting it deep into the billowing robes. The vampire erupted into dust, sprinkling the vicinity with a fine red powder.
"Take care with those 'uns, Harry. Can never trust a vampire. Dangerous fellows, they are. Never thought I'd have to fight 'em myself, though. I've taken to carrying stakes around with me wherever I go. Talk about a girl's best friend!"
Harry shook his head vigorously, still recollecting the vampire's intoxicating gaze. He looked up at Tonks. Her hair was long and blonde, hanging to her waste and curled at the tips. Her face was rosier than he had remembered, her lips much more crimson than before. In fact, she was quite a stunner!
"Tonks, thank you for…for…well, for you know. I don't know what happened back there. Why are you here? What's going on? What did they do to my neighbors? How many vampires are there? Why do you look like that? Where's everyone else? What am I—"
"Oi! Harry! Calm down! We have to get out of here before I can start answering those questions. You see, the vampires will be flocking here to feed off of their fallen brother. Not to mention these sorry blokes…" Tonks looked around at the mass of bodies which was writhing slowly and was glazed in a red bloody glow. She leaned down to a small boy at her feet, and checked his pulse.
"Gone. I'm sorry Harry. There's really nothing we can do for them. I don't know much about muggle healing…or magical healing, at that. They'll be here any moment, and I know I don't want to witness the blood fest that will happen then."
Harry looked at the ground, then his eyes wandered to the boy that Tonks had pronounced dead. He clenched his fists. "No. I won't. NO! I can't just leave them all here to die! Look! Look, what is all this for? Why is this boy dead? Why did they attack my neighbors? I'LL TELL YOU WHY! BECAUSE OF ME! ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF ME!"
Tonks grabbed Harry's shoulders, shaking him gently. "No Harry, these people are going to die because Voldemort deems it so. His will is getting stronger. Every day, he can kill more and more, arbitrating life and death. That's why you need to go. You need to find him. You need to end this." Harry nodded, but couldn't tear his gaze away from the small, lifeless face. "What about the order?" Harry asked. "Can't they come take care of this? Of these people? And defend them from the vampires?" Tonks shook her head sadly, "I'm afraid that the order is already spread out around England, fighting where they can. I was the only one who could come tonight. They sent me because they had heard of an underground vampire movement and thought that they might come after you. And I really don't think the two of us can take them all on by ourselves. I'm really sorry Harry…you know I am."
Suddenly, Harry remembered what he had arranged with Ron. "Tonks, I need to get to The Burrow. I was going to wait a couple of days, but I think I'd like to go now. Can you take me?"
Tonks nodded and said, "Alright, let's go get your things then."