A Vampire in a Wizard's World

by Sarah Black

(who does not claim to own any of the HP characters, Michael Jackson or his music)

Chapter three.

She didn't fight him as he dragged her along, but he had longer feet so it was difficult for her to keep up. While they walked over to a circle of men who were dressed like the one pulling her along, she wondered about Al's 'wizard' comment and pondered his stick which he was pointing at her.

Not that stick.

Pervert.

The one he'd been holding in the tomb. Was it perhaps a stake? Well, if it was, she needn't be afraid because the mere notion that she was actually a vampire was ridiculous.

One part of her mind believed her. The other part was telling her certain geographical facts, such as: 'De Nile ain't just a river in Egypt.'

She suddenly realized that a very ugly man who had a nose that vaguely resembled Michael Jackson's had been talking to her while she had contemplated wooden stakes and Egypt.

"Sorry, spaced out. What did you say?" She gave him her automatic response, born from years of not paying attention when her teachers were talking to her. She realized promptly that saying that to this particular person was a big mistake. Maybe even a bigger mistake than opening her eyes in the tomb earlier. The pain that shot through her body presently convinced her that indeed, it was.

"I trust I have your undivided attention now." The man with Michael Jackson nose said after he had forced her to go through, probably the worst torture of her life. Including that eight page essay.

"Yes?" She replied questioningly, not feeling quite sure what sort of answer he was looking for. Then, right after she answered, a strange sort of foolish bravery welled up inside her, begging for the silliest release possible.

"Before you go on, I feel I must inform you... your nose is just like Michael Jackson's."

As soon as she said it she clamped both hands over her mouth in horror, feeling like it had simply said that on its own without even asking her brain for permission first. It was just like that time in English class when she had had a perfectly horrid teacher who did everything to make her life miserable. He had been insulting her grammar and asking her if she was sure she belonged in such an advanced class and she had been so humiliated that she had blurted out without thinking that at least she didn't have to wear a wig like he did. His eyes had widened and his nostrils flared and she had been marched to the principals office for punishment. It had nearly gotten her suspended but she had cried her way out of it, playing all her 'weak young female' cards and batting her eyelashes quite a bit.

This particular man didn't seem affected by her words at all. He simply raised his stick thing and before she knew it the pain was back, worse than before. After an eternity it ebbed away and she swore to herself never to insult men with sticks ever again.

"That should teach you to keep your mouth shut, vampire." He spat. Then he went off into a rant about how he was very important and she was very naughty for interrupting his speech. She caught the gist of it because she was worried he'd torture her some more if she didn't but didn't manage to hang on to his every word because, for some reason she couldn't stop staring at his nose and playing 'Thriller' in her head. She had learnt her lesson though and didn't make a sound.

She didn't even dare to attempt an apology for being so naughty after he was finished with his rant.

Now that he was done ranting he simply looked supremely irritated and made some sort of complicated hand gesture which made her dizzy. The gesture brought forth the stranger who had brought her here, the man referred to him as 'Severus' and asked him to get rid of "that idiotic parasite."

'Severus' seemed very annoyed with being charged with that particular responsibility but strode over to her with a lot of impressive and dramatic waving about of his priestly robes despite any misgivings he might have had about it.

She was soon is his painful but sadly familiar grasp and her stupid sounding response was saying 'hello' in a rather perplexed way. It was probably the pain, it must still be muddling up her thoughts. She nodded decisively to herself almost convinced that her stupid behaviour had nothing to do with her own personality, but rather was because of the man with Michael's nose torturing her too much.

As a reply to her pitiful 'hello' she received a sort of growl. She cleverly stayed quiet for the rest of their trip with one small exception. When they passed the crypt she had disturbingly come to think of as her own and the man showed no sign of even a pause she made a small noise of bewilderment. Sally was then able to resign herself to the man's iron grip, simply hoping for the best.

Her thoughts turned to other things. She wondered if someone had turned in her essay for her. Did the teacher even take the time to grade it when he was certain she was dead? Most likely not. It was a shame as she really would have liked to know if she had scraped a passing grade. Upon reconsideration it had been foolish to set her hopes as high as a seven. She stifled a sigh as she did not want any unwanted attention from the man with the iron grip.

She wondered absent mindedly if anyone had cried at her funeral. The next thought that entered her mind was most unlike her. She imagined rising out of her coffin in the middle of the funeral, fangs exposed, grabbing at anyone within reach... blood everywhere. To her horror and disgust she actually found the notion amusing as well as she found that it was rousing within her a most terrible appetite.

All she could see was red, all she could smell was a sharp, delicious metallic odour, all she could taste was the delectable taste of copper, all she thought of was blood.

With a thrilled intake of breath she realised that all she could hear was the relentless beat of the human's heart.

She began to feel a strange sensation in her mouth, more specifically in her teeth. Her canine teeth. It was painful in a satisfying twisted sort of way and when she felt their sharp points against her soft lower lip she almost purred with pleasure. Forget almost. She actually did let out a noise which could be said to resemble a purr, but to a human's ears it would resemble the hungry growl of a jungle cat.

Before the throbbing vein on his neck managed to entrance her further he had somehow altered his previous grip on her arm into a much more painful twisted sort of position, making it impossible for her to move or even struggle without causing her more pain.

"Don't even think of it, leech." He spat, disgust evident in the tone of his voice.

She struggled but found it to be too exhaustingly painful to be worth her effort, She then realized somehow, as if the part of her brain that found popping out one's coffin in the middle of one's funeral to be amusing had sent her a notice with a full explanation, that she was horribly weakened in her state. After all she hadn't had any blood in nearly four nights how was she supposed to fight off anything in that sort of condition?

Her rational mind objected to this sort of thinking. As if she honestly believed she was a vampire. But all of her arguments seemed to have been torn away one by one. After all, she had woken up in a coffin with her pulse lacking in activity and her first close contact with a human had provoked a response of her teeth lengthening and lusting after his blood... blood! Of all of the things in the world to lust after it had to be blood. Why couldn't vampires lust after chocolate?

She noticed that the prolonged pain in her arm and her chocolatey distraction had brought her teeth back to normal. The man let her go to a small extent.

"I am not supper. You're lucky I'm not going to put you to sleep like the beast you are right here. But as that is what I am indeed expected to do I must make certain that you do not return to this precise location again. Now, you have not been registered yet, correct?"

As he spoke she listened obediently, feeling at first humility, then anger and finally confusion.

"Registered?" She frowned as she asked him to elaborate with an incomplete question.

"At the Vampire Registry in the Ministry of Magic." He explained, sounding exasperated.

She was still no nearer to understanding him. What was it with all this magic and wizard talk from everyone? She was sick of being so confused all the time. Sure she was used to confusion to some extent, after all she went to school. But this was all a bit much for her.

"What is it with everyone lately? Everyone keeps going on about wizards and magic and vampires and so on and so forth and I feel like a complete idiot not knowing what anyone's talking about!" She was close to angry tears and was breathing heavily. She wasn't used to all this emotional stress, not since her first break-up had she been so emotionally troubled.

"What's to misinterpret? The ones you met in the crypt and yourself are vampires, myself and the other men you saw along with the Dark Lord are wizards. Wizards do magic and we have our own Ministry for our affairs, the affairs of magical creatures and finally of magical beings such as yourself. Vampires are required by law to register at the Vampire Registry along with for example werewolves. Understand?" The man looked so highly annoyed with her lack of understanding that she didn't dare do anything but nod after he was done. She wanted to ask if the man with Michael's nose was that 'Dark Lord' he had mentioned but didn't dare.

A large part of her had begun to accept that she had somehow bin sucked into a weird dimension where vampires, wizards and apparently werewolves as well were common. The rest of her was still stubbornly in denial. Really, soon she would probably wake to find it all to be a dream, but before that happened it was most likely best to play along, lest she annoy the man too much.

They walked a bit further and then the man came to a halt. He let go of her but glared at her in way that expressed there would be no moving on her part. She agreed with an obedient look of her own and began to happily rub her arm where he had finally released his strong grip.

She looked at him with interest as she proceeded to rub her bruised self and noticed he was searching for something hidden somewhere on his person. At last he pulled something out of a hidden pocket in his priest robe thing and offered it to her. Suspecting nothing she took hold of the battered object she didn't recognize because of the dark, only to find a strange unwelcome sensation flow through her. Suddenly it was as if she were a worm on a hook spinning towards a lake full of fish.

The next things she knew she was lying sprawled on the ground next to a pair of feet which she assumed belonged to the man who had brought her there. The next thing she heard was the loudly spoken word 'Stupefy' and then there was darkness.

Note: I'd just like to say that I am a fan of Michael Jackson's music and I think he's a sweet guy but you have to admit, him and Voldie both have very silly noses. :) Review if you dare.