A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
Word count: 1000
Warning: murder, death, lots of blood.
"Pansy, darling, wake up, it's night," Hermione whispered, knocking gently on the wooden bed post of Pansy's bed. The four posts held up the black and silver canopy. Hermione could hear Pansy moving, stretching, yawning.
"It's nightfall already?" Pansy asked, poking her head out from the curtains. Hermione laughed at seeing Pansy's usually perfect hair sticking out in several different directions.
"It is. And there's something we need to talk about."
"Is it me biting your neck and making you undead like me?" Pansy asked, rolling her eyes. Hermione shook her head, her curls bouncing.
"No, it's not, although we could talk about that if you'd prefer?" Hermione asked hopefully. She knew Pansy didn't want to do it, to bite her, share blood. Eventually she would cave, knowing that Hermione would age like mortals do, that one day in the future it would come to a choice, either turn her or let her die. Hermione did not want to die, not permanently.
"No, I do not want to talk about that. Quit reminding me of your mortality. We'll deal with that bridge when we get there, and burn it. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" Pansy asked, sliding out of her bed and starting to get dressed.
"There was someone here earlier. A hunter."
"Figures. I wondered how long we had before one of them showed up. Who was it this time? Did you get rid of them?"
"A new one, my love," Hermione answered, pulling Pansy against her, the moonlight shining off their bodies.
"And you got rid of him?"
"Her. This time the hunter is a her," Hermione whispered, watching Pansy's eyes sparkle.
"Please tell me that she's bound and gagged in the basement and just waiting for me to feast on her?" Pansy asked, her fangs poking out of her lips a little. Hermione laughed.
"Where else would she be? I knew you'd be hungry tonight. You haven't fed in days."
"True, alright, let's see what you've caught for me this time," Pansy purred, kissing Hermione on the lips before slipping out of the room and heading down to the basement. Hermione trailed her, a smile on her face. She'd been Pansy's most trusted friend for nearly two decades now, ever since Pansy had found her standing orphaned in an alley, both her parents dead by a vampire's hand. Why Hermione had survived was beyond the both of them, but Pansy had adopted her, raised her, and now they'd become more. Hermione couldn't imagine life without Pansy, without this.
"Hello sweetie," Pansy stated, opening the basement door to find the hunter standing there, ready to charge.
"I'll kill you!" she screamed, lunging at Pansy. Pansy merely laughed, side stepping. Hermione had only just arrived behind her to a silver knife being plunged into her chest. Pansy screamed, her eyes widening at the red blossom of blood soaking through Hermione's white blouse.
"You killed her!" Pansy screamed, grabbing the hunter and promptly breaking her neck. She rushed to Hermione's side, holding her head in her lap.
"Pansy," Hermione whispered, blood bubbling from her lips.
"Hold on, hold on, it's going to be alright," Pansy whispered, leaning down and jamming her fangs into Hermione's neck. She drank deeply, savoring the sweetness of her love's blood. Satisfied she'd taken enough, Pansy brought her fangs to own wrist, breaking the skin. She held it above Hermione's mouth, letting the blood trickle down. Hermione coughed, her body shuddering.
"You're going to survive," Pansy stated as Hermione's form went limp in her arms. She waited a moment, watching the rise and fall of Hermione's chest stop. Now, all she could do was wait. She rose, holding Hermione in her arms. She carried her to their room, laying her on the bed. Pansy got a wet rag and started cleaning Hermione's blood off her body.
"Sleep well, my love," she whispered, before laying down next to her, making sure the curtains were drawn.
The sun rose, sending Pansy back into slumber. Her arms wrapped around Hermione in her sleep. Noon brought scorching heat, but neither of them felt it. The house was designed to remain cool in all temperatures, something Hermione had thought of to keep Pansy comfortable. Slowly, the sun started to set, sending the world into shades of reds and oranges.
The moon rose, casting it's silvery glow. Hermione stirred slightly, shifting beneath Pansy's arms.
"Pansy?" she whispered, looking around, her brown eyes wild with confusion and hunger.
"You made it," Pansy stated, taking Hermione's hand. "It's going to be alright. You were murdered, but it's alright now. You're like me now, come along. The hunger will subside if you eat something. Fresh is best, but I only killed her yesterday, she'll work, and besides, there's always something poetic about draining the one who killed you."
Hermione nodded, allowing Pansy to lead her from the bed, still in a hunger daze as she was taken to the basement and presented with her first meal. Pansy blinked, realizing the hunter's chest still rose and fell. She hadn't killed her as she'd thought, but only insured she'd never harm either of them.
"Go ahead, my love, it's safe," Pansy whispered, stroking Hermione's hair. Hermione fell to her knees, dragging the body to her and sinking her fangs into the hunter's pale flesh. Pansy sat down on the floor next to her.
"There you go, my love, it's going to be alright. You've taken care of me all these years, now, it's my turn to do the same," Pansy stated, knowing fledglings took about a year or so to adapt to being turned. Hermione might be in the fast track since she'd been with Pansy, but she'd still have many things to learn, things Pansy would teach her. Hermione raised her head, blood trailing down her mouth. Pansy smiled, kissing it away. This hadn't been her plan, but there was no denying that now, she and Hermione would never be apart.