Author's Note: I did not forget about this piece. I have just been readjusting to life post pandemic. If anyone is still reading this, then here you go.

Chapter 8: Barter

Samarth Khan was disturbed. He was been mulling over whatever had been happening for the past couple of days. Lady Malfoy was being a real bother with her incessant need to hex and punish the interloper who had attacked her. Malfoy was becoming an even more insufferable git as the days progressed. Then there was the new order from the Ministry which was forcing his hand. He would soon have to send Harry in for memory checks, which he was quite frankly not enthusiastic about. He had grown to like the kid. The special meeting with the Noble Three was scheduled today, which was an even greater burden. Huffing and sighing, he got up. At least he wouldn't get a headache. Perks of being undead, he guessed.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Bloody hell was he not interested in any visitor right now. Khan ignored the knocking but it just got incessant. And them the object of his worried made his presence known.

"Khan, I know you are inside. I have a vial of Veela blood for you. Not free, of course! I need your help. Come on, open the door."

"Not today, kid. Go away."

"5 minutes of talk-talk and the vial's yours. Open the darned door."

Samarth cursed internally as he swung back the door. "What in hell do you want now, Potter?"

"Oh, just two invitations to the Carnivalesque Ball. Nothing much."

"No can do. I don't have extras and you aren't nobility, boy."

Harry scowled and then motioned for Khan to get closer. Smirking, he whispered something into Khan's ears. Khan smiled. "Bring it tomorrow. We have a deal."

Hermione had been pacing in front of her fireplace for the last hour. Harry had been gone for close to three hours now and she was panicking. Why did she decide to trust him? He was a vampire, for Merlin's sake! He was devious and cunning and sly and…Hermione sat down on the couch with her head in her hands. She was such a fool.

A series of knocks rattled her. She looked around the room. She had forgotten to put in more firewood into the fireplace and it was freezing. "That bitch and her minions won't have to kill you. You will kill yourself soon enough," Hermione thought ruefully as she made her way to the front door. Opening it revealed a soaking wet Harry Potter. "Oh, so it had also been raining. She had had no clue. She really was getting sloppy", thought Hermione.

"Do you fancy getting hypothermia before the Ball, Granger?", chuckled Harry. Hermione broke out of her internal musings and leaped at the suggestion. "So, we got the invitations?", she asked.

"Not yet, but we will tomorrow."

"How the heck did you arrange this? Was it Cassie's father? Or Parvati's"

Hermione had not planned on sounding so bitter. She would really have to keep a tab on her emotions from now on. This just wouldn't do.

Harry grinned down at her. He raised his left eyebrow and loosened his tie. "A bit green there, Granger? Cassie was rather pretty, nah? Wonder where she is now."

Hermione looked at him, putting on an unbothered act. "Well, if that is all, then I am sure you have places to be, necks to feed on", she said.

"Darling, those invitations do not come for free. I made a deal. Now, we will have to honour it."

"Whatever, Potter. It's your deal. Deal with it."

"Not so fast, Granger. I promised a blood pendant in exchange for the invitations. You should know what that entails."

Hermione gaped at him. The bastard had promised a blood pendant made from her blood without seeking her permission. The absolute audacity of the git…

"How dare you make deals that involve me without so much as a heads up, you miserable little twat?"

"Do you want the invitations or not? Also, don't tell me you did not enjoy our last blood transfer session, Hermione. You made quite the little delicate noises."

Hermione desperately wanted Harry to leave. She did not want to do this again. She would lose her composure and end up tangled with Harry and her heart would break once again. Sighing resignedly, she squared her shoulders and asked, "So, which emotion does this benefactor want?"

"Safety," he replied.

"Well, get on with it then," Hermione mumbled out.

Harry's smiled faltered. He had expected Hermione to put up more of a fight, maybe scream out a few more expletives. This wouldn't do. This reaction wouldn't do at all.

"We have the whole night to make a blood pendant. I am sure a powerful witch like you will turn the vial of blood into a pendant in a jiffy. Forget about this for now. Have you eaten?"

Startled by his question, Hermione just shook her head. Harry sighed and marched towards her kitchen. Calling it a kitchen would be a disgrace to the art of cooking. The kitchen was bare, with just two plates and a couple of essential cutlery pieces. At least, it was clean and neatly arranged, Harry mused. Opening her fridge revealed nothing much. Just a couple of eggs and carrots. That would have to do, Harry thought.

Her cupboards revealed a large supply of crackers and some bread. Harry took out the eggs and chopped the carrots. Then he took out what looked like a pot and put them in to boil. He cut the bread up into pieces. All the while, he could see Hermione standing near the sink, staring at him wordlessly.

"I know I look rather handsome cooking food, but wouldn't it do you some good to start the fire back up?"

Hermione shook her head, as if in a trance. Then she left. By the time Harry was done plating up her food, the room was significantly warmer. He beamed as she dug into her food.

"You don't eat. Why did you learn to cook, Harry?"

"I was turned. So, in the first couple of days when the transition was not complete, I still had an appetite. I did not have anyone around so Khan taught me what little he knew of cooking."

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears. She wished he would get a plate and start eating. She wished his eyes would light up on seeing treacle tarts. She wished he would join her and Ron in buying candy. Harry faltered. Why did the women keep on crying whenever he shared something? Was he really that much of a monster? He removed his arm from the couch and stood up. He knew where he wasn't wanted. Nothing was worth getting his dignity diminished, not even Granger.

Realising that he had misinterpreted her reaction, Hermione reached out and tugged on his shirt sleeve. Once he turned his face towards her, she caressed the inside of his wrist. With a half-smile on her lips, she pulled him down. Harry had not anticipated this reaction. He landed on Hermione and the couch springs squeaked. Both of them laughed.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?"

"I thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong. We have a pendant to make and you must be starving", Hermione smirked.

Harry took out a vial and slit a neat line on her wrist with his nail. Hermione flinched. "Now you need to remember a time when you felt safe while I collect the blood."

Flying on Buckbeak's back, clinging tight to Harry flashed across her mind. Dancing with him inside the tent as everything around them fell apart zoomed past. Standing in front of his parent's graves, her own parents, Ron's hugs, Christmas celebrations at the Weasley's…it was just too much. Willing herself not to cry anymore, Hermione focused on the memories till the vial was full. Then she used her wand to transfer them into the vial and refashion the vial into a pendant. She would have to explain the unauthorised use of her wand later, but she would handle it.

"Here's your pendant. All done, Harry."

She turned her attention back to Harry to see him staring at her face with an inscrutable expression on his face. Before he could ask her any further questions, Hermione waved her hand in front of his face.

"Now about your dinner, Mister Potter…", she remarked saucily.

Harry lifted an eyebrow and picked up her hand. He swirled his tongue over the wound and kissed it. Then he sucked. Hard. Hermione cried out. She wanted more. She wanted everything he had to offer. Grabbing the back of his head, she dragged his face up till it was level with hers. Caressing the back of his neck, she peppered small kisses across his face. Her lips tingled with the coldness of his skin and she involuntarily flinched. Sensing that he was about to pull back, Hermione held the back of his neck harder and pulled him closer. Harry was astonished and very amused, not to mention a bit touched that she had kissed him with such care. He pushed her further into the couch and sunk his hands in her hair. Putting his thumb against her lips, he coaxed her into opening them. The touch of his icy finger on her lips made her shiver deliciously against him. As she sucked on his thumb, Harry moved his lips to her neck. He kissed the corded muscle there and moved lower to nuzzle against the tops of her breasts. When he felt her pull him back to her neck, he sucked hard and bit down playfully. He tested his fangs on the skin. When he felt her nod, he sunk them in and lost himself in oblivion.

A train, chocolate frogs, a bushy haired girl, a red-haired boy. A talking hat?

He planned to ask Hermione everything after the ball.

Preview: "Harry, this is outrageous. I am not wearing this to the ball….."