A/N: Hello to all of you lovely people who are reading this story! Thanks for sticking around for so long. I admit that the update process of this is getting really weird, but it's the same with all of my projects. I'm just really glad that you guys like this and that you have patience. Please enjoy reading this tiny update.
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His hands roamed over her body as his lips moved against hers. Every inch of her was on fire as she arched against him, tugging at his hair and clawing at his naked back. Her breath hitched as his lips followed a path down her throat to her chest and he positioned himself against her before looking at her through hooded eyes. She lifted her hips up to touch him, feeling the fire explode through her entire body and met his eyes as he uttered, "Avonlea…"
Avonlea's eyes snapped open and she gasped, panting like she had just run a marathon. Her body thrummed with pleasure that it had never truly known and she knew that she had to do something about her perspiration-soaked clothes. She felt her fangs biting into her tongue as she threw her sheets off. The bloodlust was back, but it was more driven by the thoughts that her mind was conjuring than the actual desire to drain someone.
Avonlea gathered up some clothes and booked it out of her room. The sound of her best friend snoring in the other room brought a momentary smile to her face. At least this way her friend wouldn't know about any dreams that the blonde had. She couldn't tease Avonlea for waking up panting for something that she knew that she would never have. The thought of being ridiculed by her best friend about this kind of thing toned down the feelings that were running through her body, but not enough to make her feel less dirty.
"Need a shower, need a shower," she sang under her breath, heading into the bathroom and locking the door. "A really, really cold shower…"
The cold water shocked her system out of dangerous thoughts and she allowed herself a few moments of just standing under the water, thinking. The painting of bathing nymphs moved around, not paying attention to her, but she watched them for a while. Nymphs like that didn't really exist – they were more ethereal looking than they were beautifully humanlike. That thought made her think about how actual vampires looked like as compared to the romantic paintings that everyone seemed to think about when thinking about vampires.
Nope. Nope don't think about that, Avonlea told herself, drying off. You won't become a vampire – not like that. Never ever, ever.
She stared at her reflection and saw that her canine teeth were sharper than they should have been. Her brow furrowed as she looked at them, wishing them away forever. Wishes like that, she knew, were impossible because of the really dangerous future that she had in store. If she didn't find her mate before she became a real adult, she was going to have to deal with these fangs on a daily basis for the rest of her life.
"No," Avonlea whispered to her reflection. "No, that's not going to happen. I'll stop this. I'll think of some way to stop this."
She quickly dressed into a pair of jeans and a low-shouldered blue top over a black camisole shirt. Throwing her hair up into a sloppy bun, she exited the bathroom and was confronted by the sound of her best friend snoring again. Shaking her head, Avonlea grabbed a bag full of supplies and headed from her common room.
Paintings lining the walls towards the stairs were just stirring as she moved past them. She muttered "good morning" to the ones that talked to her, but didn't engage them in further conversation. Avonlea knew that conversation wouldn't be possible until they had all seriously woken up for the day. She pressed her hand against her stomach when it growled and looked around her to see if anyone was around to notice.
It being the weekend, she knew that most of the castle would probably still be in bed, sleeping their lives away with happy dreams. That meant the Great Hall would be mostly empty at this hour and she'd be able to eat without caring about the evil looks of her classmates. The less hate she had to deal with in the morning, the better she could handle it later.
And I can avoid the rest, Avonlea reminded herself, stepping into the Great Hall. Oh! Look at the snow…so that means no getting out of the castle to avoid people. Damn!
Avonlea moved over to the bench after tearing her eyes away from the snow falling from the enchanted ceiling. She set her bag down next to her and piled some food onto her plate. Her eyes turned towards the professors' table at the back of the room and noted that only a couple of the professors were actually there. Notably missing, of course, was Professor Snape. The Veela Halfling shook her head and turned her gaze back onto her plate.
Stop thinking about him, right now! Stop it! Heat flared in her face. Professor Snape is not the person I'm destined to be with. He isn't and he will never be! Get it through your head right now, Avonlea! Because you're going to be a wreck if it turns out that he doesn't fit those shoes. And he could never love you the way that you wanted, so just stop thinking about him and focus on finding the actual mate that you have to be with before New Year's.
Avonlea helped herself to a thorough breakfast, eating more than usual so she wouldn't have to come back for lunch when more students would flood the Great Hall. She allowed herself a moment to breathe as her finger went in circles around the rim of her goblet of orange juice. Her eyes turned back towards the professors' table and then quickly back to the seat across from her, one that remained empty. Soon, most of the seats in the castle would be empty because of the approaching Christmas holiday. Most of Hogwarts would be heading home to celebrate the holidays with their families, but not her.
"I am not going back to the brothel," Avonlea muttered to herself, gulping down the rest of her orange juice. "Not to stay for a long period of time…"
She gathered her things and stood up, hardly glancing at anyone that was around. Ghosts floated past her, some tipping their hats in acknowledgement of her presence. Peeves soared past her, blowing a loud raspberry in her direction on his way to torment some poor souls. Avonlea bowed her head and hurried out of the Great Hall. She didn't stop moving until she was just outside of the library.
"Okay," she sighed, readjusting her grip on the strap of her bag. "Just go in there and find some book that you haven't read about Veela – or vampires – and hope that it helps more than the others."
The books on magical creatures were surprisingly limited when she dismissed the ones that she had already read. Avonlea stacked up the small pile that she hadn't looked at and hefted them over to a desk, where she knew that no one would bother her.
"Dammit! Is there no book that can tell me anything about my problem?" Avonlea asked the cosmos, tossing down the last book over two hours later. "Someone somewhere has to know something more about Veela than their beauty and anger…" She rubbed her temples and shook her head. "I'm going to have to do it…I'm going to have to ask for help."
Avonlea shoved her notebooks back into her bag and gathered the magical books up in her arms. She muttered to herself about getting the courage to face the librarian. Being her, she delayed the asking for permission to get access to possible other books by placing her other books up where they belonged rather than go straight up to the librarian. Empty-handed, Avonlea took a deep breath and moved towards the librarian's desk.
"Um…Excuse me?" Avonlea began, trying to keep a stammer from her voice. "I was just looking at some books about magical creatures and I was wondering if there were some that are more informational about Veela?"
"Is this for an assignment?" the librarian asked, looking at the younger witch over her glasses.
"Kind of." Avonlea sighed and adjusted her grip on the bag's strap. "I couldn't find anything helpful in the regular sections and I was wondering…"
"If you could look in the Restricted Section?"
"Um…yes?"
"I'm afraid not. You see, you have to have permission from a professor or the Headmistress in order to use the books in the Restricted Section." The woman pursed her lips. "Do you have permission?"
"No…"
"Miss Raven has permission to use the Restricted Section," a voice said from behind Avonlea.
Avonlea's spine stiffened slightly and she bit her bottom lip. Focus. Concentrate. Turning around, she saw Professor Snape standing behind her. His dark eyes were narrowed as he looked at her and she felt like she was going to melt into a scared little puddle for Filch to clean up later. Mentally telling herself to calm down, she released her bottom lip from the confines of her teeth.
"Professor?" she uttered.
"The Headmistress requested that you be allowed to search for answers in the Restricted Section," Professor Snape said, speaking in that waspish voice that bore no mercy. "As long as I am present and may assist you."
"Oh…"
"Do you have a problem with my presence, Miss Raven?" Professor Snape asked, cocking an eyebrow though his eyes darkened a little more.
"No, sir." And that's the problem. "I just didn't think that you would be interested in studying in the library with a student like me."
"Believe me, Miss Raven. I would much prefer to be doing something else than attending to you on a weekend," Snape said in answer. He motioned towards the Restricted Section. "Now, will we begin or are you going to stand there and waste my time?"
Startled into speechlessness, Avonlea ducked her head and moved towards the Restricted Section of the library. Christ, can this day get any worse?
OOOOOOOOO
Snape didn't want to waste any time finding the books that could help get his student off of his back. There were better things that he'd rather be doing that day, like brooding in his office over a potion while recalling the moments that he regretted most in life. To be spending time with a student that happened to be the best friend of his daughter was not on the top of his list of things that he'd like to be doing outside of the classroom.
As Avonlea moved along the aisle across from him, Snape decided to probe for information that she may already know about her condition.
"How long have you known about your heritage?" Snape demanded, glancing in her direction for just a moment.
"Mother told me a few weeks into the school year," Avonlea answered, running her fingers over the spines of books that were probably worth more than her life and three times as dangerous. "Apparently, that's when my father told her about the problem of being a Veela before he vanished into the Great Unknown again."
"How convenient of him…" Snape grabbed a book from a shelf and flipped through the pages. "And why is it that you have taken so long in telling me about this? As Head of House, I should have been the first to know when you found a taste for the life giving blood of others."
The girl turned her gaze towards him briefly. "I thought that I could handle this on my own."
"That's what you get for thinking." Snape glared at her. "McGonagall said that you attacked one of your housemates. Why was I not contacted when that happened?"
"Because I didn't think about it, sir. I wanted to forget about it – like she made the housemate." The blonde was paler than he remembered her ever being in class. "Professor McGonagall told me that I could keep it a secret..." She turned her gaze away from him. "I guess she lied."
The Veela grabbed a couple of books and moved over to a small table. Snape watched her go, wondering why his daughter found her so interesting to be around and why he had agreed to help her when there were other professors that could help her with this problem. As Head of House, he knew that it was mostly his responsibility to help his student, but there were far kinder souls out there with free time to spend that would have gladly helped her. Why him?
Because I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he decided.
"How have you sustained yourself during the moments that the bloodlust overtakes you?" he asked, glancing into the tome that he held in his hand.
Avonlea scratched the side of her neck and squirmed in her seat. "Nothing really…A friend that knows about my problem has been giving me a little blood every now and then. For their sake, I can't tell you who they are."
Snape thought about using Occlumency on the girl, but remembered that she was skilled at combating it and using it for her own gain. He would have to wait until the answer could be gleaned from her under the influence of other means.
"Very well," he said, letting the subject change. "Take notes of what information can be gleaned from these books."
"Yes, sir."
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A/N: It wasn't a very long update, I know, but that's all that has come to me in the past week. Sad, but true. I hope to update this again soon, but can't make any real promises. I have new projects that are calling out to me too, so that's another problem that I'm going to have to deal with. Please read and review responsibly. And I'll see you all in the next update! Thanks! –Scarlet
