A girls' night out on Valentine's Day: why not? Roxanne wasn't dating anyone, Lila had just dumped her cheating boyfriend, and their soon to be ex-flatmate's fiancée was out of town on business. Bridget, after pausing to admire her sparkly new engagement ring, declared the girls' night practice for her hen party in June. They'd made casual plans for a pub crawl.

Until Roxanne saw the flyer.

Auror Stern held it up at the end of training on Friday. A cheap flyer, black and white, except for the streaks of red dripping like blood from the words BLOODY VALENTINE BASH. "Wizards and witches aren't the only ones who will be dressed like vampires. The Sleazy Kneazle welcomes the real blood-suckers too. Stay away from this hell hole. We won't cover vampire strategies until next term, and you only think you learned enough in Defence Against the Dark Arts to protect yourselves."

Stern's bulldog jowls shook as he warned them what would happen to any trainee he caught with puncture wounds on his or her neck on Monday. Roxanne barely listened. She was mentally designing a costume. When the class was dismissed, she trailed after the other second-year Auror trainees.

A hand touched her arm. Carter Pettyfer, Lila's tall, blond cheating ex, said, "Roxy, I need help. She won't talk to me."

"What's there to say?" He deserved a knee in the groin and a face full of her dad's new and improved itching powder. She'd thought he was nice in more than looks. She'd introduced him to one of her best mates! "You kissed another girl. Relationship over."

"I dated Astrid once. Then I met Lila." Carter exhaled heavily. "When I ran into Astrid at the party, she kissed me. I didn't kiss her. I pushed her away, but Lila didn't see it."

Lila had told Roxanne and Bridget that she'd run outside and Apparated. Growing up with a father who openly cheated on her mother, Lila had sworn never to put up with that shit. Maybe she'd run when she should've stayed. Roxanne asked Carter, "What are you willing to do?"

"Anything."

"Buy a bottle of Verisimilitude Potion and show up at the flat Sunday night at ten." Verisimilitude wasn't Veritaserum, but a teaspoon of potion would make a liar blush, which was enough for parents to discover which child had misbehaved and for Lila to discover if Carter told the truth. Roxanne and Bridget would go to the Valentine Bash and leave the couple to sort things out.

"Thanks, Roxy!"

"Yeah, yeah, go shopping." She wanted to believe Carter, but she was determined to stop by WWW on the way home and have a chat with Fred, just in case.

When she reached Diagon Alley, the sight of the masses crowding the Weasley shop looking to buy Daydream Charms, Pygmy Puffs or some other magical gift for their valentines changed Roxanne's mind about brainstorming potential revenge ideas with Fred. She kept walking.

Abraca Fabrica was on the corner of Diagon and Knockturn Alley. The summer she'd turned eight, Roxanne had wandered into the fabric shop on the way to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. When the owner, Madam Abra, asked her young customer how she could be of service, Roxanne had put her ice cream money on the till counter and said she wanted sewing lessons. She'd learned to sew with needle and thread and eventually spells.

Today, Madam Abra was helping a customer in the quilting section. Roxanne waved and walked to the fabric displays in the back. A wizard was stretching a length of sparkly nylon/spandex. He was around her height, not tall, but elegantly fit like a runner or cyclist. His tailored wizard robes put her Ministry regulation ones to shame. Ciao, bello, she thought, admiring his chiselled Roman features. Early to mid-twenties, Roxanne guessed, wearing sunglasses like a pop singer trying to hide his identity, although he didn't go out in the sun much from his pale olive complexion.

"Are you making cycle shorts?" she asked.

The wizard turned with a smile. "I wondered what the fabric was used for." His voice held only a trace of an Italian accent. If he'd gone to Hogwarts, he must have left before Bridget had started pointing out every fanciable boy and asking her friends, "Would you snog him?"

Roxanne said, "I need a stretchy material for a catsuit, uh, costume, for a party Sunday. The Bloody Valentine Bash? Everyone's dressing up as vampires."

"Vampire cats?"

"Just vampires. I'm the one making a catsuit."

"With ears?"

"No, it's a one piece, form fitting . . . ." He was smirking. Having her on. He knew what a catsuit was! She marched past him and reached for a bolt of fabric, any fabric.

"Not the cotton/spandex. It is too dull." He took off his sunglasses, his dark gaze travelling over her. "Black shiny Lycra will flow like water over your curves. And let your hair down." He smiled as if picturing it. "You have beautiful hair."

"Unmanageable." Her curls defied every Straightening Spell and Sleekeazy Potion. She had to scrape them back, confine them in a braid and ruthlessly coil and pin them down in order to look professional.

His smile became a grin. "You are not a tame woman."

"Claudio!" Madam Abra called. "I have your order ready."

"Molte grazie." His gaze never left Roxanne. "Marcus Claudius Sartorius, Master Tailor, at your service."

She held out her hand. "Roxanne Weasley, Auror Trainee. Nice to meet you."

"Roxanne." He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "Perfetto," he whispered.

His accent had thickened. Her cheeks burned. She was grateful that while she got the Weasley height and curves, she inherited her mother's skin tone that concealed blushes.

The jangle of shop bells announced the entrance of a customer. Claudio let go of Roxanne's hand and put on his sunglasses. "Arrivederci, bella."

He'd put emphasis on arrivederci. He meant to see her soon. "The Valentine's Bash? You're going?"

His smile sent a tingle down her spine. "Nothing will keep me away."

.

Madam Abra frowned as she rang up Roxanne's order. "I don't gossip about my customers, but Claudio's interest in you worries me, dear."

Roxanne handed over the Galleons for her purchase. She hadn't had a serious boyfriend since she and Jason Wolpert drifted apart after she went into Auror training and he moved to Kenmare to be a reserve Chaser for the Kestrels. Madam Abra should worry about Roxanne's interest in Claudio. She planned to snog his gorgeous lips off.

"Don't you want to know why?" Madam Abra clutched Roxanne's hand when she gave her the change. "He's a vampire, my dear."

.

A vampire.

Her flatmates were out when she got home, which gave Roxanne the opportunity to say out loud, "Claudio is a vampire." The words didn't kill the butterflies in her stomach. She didn't tremble in fear. Cousin Teddy's dad had been a werewolf, after all, and her aunt Fleur was part-Veela. That kind of thing wasn't a big deal in her family. The Ministry could label Claudio a magical hominid or Non-Wizard Part-Human, but to Roxanne he was a hot bloke she wanted to get to know better. Preferably by snogging.

Lila and Bridget gave the Lycra their seal of approval for sexiness. Roxanne was too keyed up to sleep, so she stayed up all night sewing and casting spells.

She was jarred awake Saturday afternoon by shrieking.

"Someone sent you a Valentine's present!" Bridget cried.

Lila plunked the rectangular box onto Roxanne's lap once she'd sat up in bed. "Open it!"

There was a reason why Roxanne had become inseparable friends with the most excitable blondes in Gryffindor House. She couldn't remember it at the moment. "The next time my dad needs test subjects I'm volunteering you two."

The threat didn't have its desired effect. "Deal," Lila said. "Now open your present."

A red bow made with lush velvet ribbon tied the large silver gift box. Roxanne opened the envelope tucked behind the bow.

I made these to complete your costume. A domani, Claudio

"Who is Claudio, and when will he see you tomorrow?" Bridget asked, reading over Roxanne's shoulder.

Roxanne untied the red bow. "He's a tailor I met at Abraca Fabrica, and he'll see me at the Valentine's Bash."

"He makes clothes?" The enthusiasm had left Bridget's voice.

"Beautiful ones." Roxanne lifted the lid to the box and set it on the bed next to her. She folded back silver tissue paper to reveal a black leather corset and long black dragon hide coat, each piece a work of art. The craftsmanship was beyond anything she'd ever seen.

"Merlin, I think she's going to swoon." Bridget grabbed Roxanne's shoulders. "Take deep slow breaths."

"I'm fine." Roxanne ran her fingers down the laces at the back of the corset and picked up the coat. Her dad and Uncle Bill were fond of dragon hide jackets. She wouldn't envy them anymore. The cut, the dense stitching, the perfect length—the hem would skim her thighs just above the knees, which suited her height. She ran her hands over the fabric. Dragon hide was smooth and supple, but incredibly tough, and Claudio had created this for her with his amazingly talented hands.

"Wow, Roxy. I never knew you had a dragon hide fetish," Lila said. "I'd tell you to get a room, but you're already in it."

"It's the giver that's melting her knickers, not the gift," Bridget said. She tugged Lila to her feet. "Even if it's both, don't judge." She winked at Roxanne. "We'll give you a few minutes of alone time, and then you have to get dressed. Lila and I want to eat at that new restaurant near Gringotts, and you need to shop for boots that go with your badass vampire outfit."

.

Along with boots that had buckles and laces, Roxanne found herself buying a creamy lipstick the shop clerk claimed was "the natural colour of blood."

"Oh my gods, you look like you just killed someone," Bridget said Sunday night, when they were all dressed and putting the finishing touches on their makeup.

"I hope it was Carter," Lila said. She zipped her makeup bag with enough force to break the tab off the zipper. "Reparo," she muttered, followed by, "Bastard."

The security ward chimed. Bridget's face lit up. "That must be the roses Geoffrey promised to send!" She hitched up her long red skirts to sprint to the front door. An excited squeal followed by a litany of "oh my gods" brought Roxanne into the lounge.

Geoffrey had managed to finish his trip early and deliver the roses in person. He'd also made dinner reservations at the restaurant where he'd proposed. Roxanne sent the lovebirds on their way and returned to the washroom. "You heard?"

"Hard not to," Lila said. She'd been using Cleaning Charms. The washbasin and mirror gleamed. "Bridget's loud when she's happy."

"I told them we'd practice hen night some other time."

Lila nodded. "I didn't feel like going out anyway." She crossed her arms and scowled at her strapless black gown. "I should have bought a case of wine instead of this." In the shop, Lila had declared it the perfect I-hope-you-see-me-and-eat-your-heart-out revenge dress.

The security ward chimed. Carter had arrived.

"If it's Claudio, just leave me to my misery," Lila said. She gave a half-hearted smirk. "After you introduce us. I have to see what a hot tailor looks like."

Roxanne led the way and opened the door. Carter held a bouquet of roses in one hand and a wand in the other.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Lila stared, frozen.

Carter raised his hands. "Don't hurt me, Roxy. It's only for a few minutes, I promise. I just need to make her hear what I have to say." His voice choked up. "You know how she gets. She doesn't listen. She runs."

Roxanne moved into Lila's line of sight. "He brought Verisimilitude Potion. Ask him questions. Let him prove all men aren't like your dad." She turned to Carter. "I want a wizard's handshake that you'll set her free after five minutes, and if she doesn't love you enough to stick around after that, you'll let her go."

He shook her hand, yelping at the pins and needles preview of the pain that would engulf him if he defied the magical spell and broke his word.

"Don't make me regret this," Roxanne said. She picked up her coat and slipped it on.

"I won't," Carter replied fervently.

Roxanne kissed Lila's cheek. "Don't worry about me. I'm taking a Squire Cab to and from the Sleazy Kneazle. See you in the morning."

Carter asked, "Didn't Auror Stern warn us—"

"Your five minutes are ticking away," Roxanne said, shutting the front door.

.

The end of Knockturn Alley looked like a vampire convention.

"You'll win the costume contest, no worries, lady!" the Squire Cab driver said through his window before rocketing off to pick up his next fare.

Roxanne wasn't sure she wanted to go in. The queue snaked to the left side of the building and down a street between dodgy looking blocks of flats, and if she was honest, she'd talked up the Bloody Valentine's Bash to her mates as an excuse to design a costume and see Claudio. She glanced at the pub sign and shuddered. The artist with the twisted sense of humour to paint a Kneazle as sleazy deserved a hex.

More "vampires" headed for the back of the queue. She wished she'd arranged to meet Claudio in front of the pub; she could've convinced him to go somewhere else. Somewhere more private. The thought gave her an idea. She cast an Amplifying Charm and called his name.

Immediately, she felt the need to move away from the queue, toward the alleyway on the opposite side of the building. She obeyed, fighting the urge to run. She was being summoned! As she walked, Roxanne slipped her hand into a coat pocket to grip her wand. A counter spell and she'd be free, but what if Claudio had heard her voice and cast the spell as a romantic gesture? What if he was waiting with roses, or waiting to playfully capture her in his arms and kiss her? Both of them dressed in dragon hide, their hands sliding over each other . . . . She was willing to give spontaneous amore a chance.

The dark alley seemed empty, but then she heard her name spoken in a jagged whisper. Roxanne silently chanted, "Lumos." The glow from her wand illuminated Claudio's body on the ground. The stake in his chest. The blood. She dropped to her knees beside him. "Hang on. I'll summon an ambulance." She raised her wand.

"No. I'll heal." Claudio's eyes glowed red. "Pull out the stake."

Roxanne lowered her wand. "Are you trying to compel me?"

The red glow vanished. "Forgive me. Please pull out the stake?"

His puppy dog stare was harder to resist than the attempt at compulsion. "Why don't you do it?" Vampires ripped stakes out of their chests all the time in romance novels. Sometimes they'd even rip the stake out, flip it around, and use it to kill the vampire hunter who hadn't hit the mark.

"It is too close to my heart."

No wonder he was lying so still! The wrong move could make a splinter pierce his heart, turning him to ash. "All right, all right," she said. "I'll do it." She set her wand on the ground and wrapped her hands around the stake. "On three, OK? One. Two." She pulled out the stake. Blood spurted. She dropped the stake and pressed her hands against the wound.

Claudio gasped. "Pulled . . . early."

"Aunt Audrey said it keeps the patient from tensing. She removed a splinter from my finger before I knew it, so I hoped it would work on you too." Roxanne was babbling, doing her best to keep him calm. Blood soaked his white shirt, seeped through her fingers. She cast every Healing Charm she knew. Nothing worked. Panic sank its teeth into her.

Sank its teeth . . . .

She splayed one hand against the hole in his chest and leaned over him to press her wrist to his mouth. "You need blood to heal. Take it."

Claudio shook his head.

Roxanne rubbed her wrist back and forth. "Ministry guidelines protect your right to accept willing donations. My dorm-mates giggled all night after we heard that in Defence Against the Dark Arts. They wondered if it was true that sharing blood with a vampires felt like sex. I told them vampires were full of shit and used Memory Charms." She silently cast a Compulsion Charm. "Prove me wrong."

He bit her.

The sting of pain was worth the rush of pleasure that swept over her, lifting her up on waves of sensation before dragging her under.

.

Roxanne awoke with a start. She wasn't in the alley anymore. She was lying on a sofa. On the stone floor beside her, a bluebell flame danced in the bottom of a tube vase holding a single red rose. The room beyond the small pool of light was dark. A cellar or basement, she'd guess, shivering in the chill. Someone—Claudio, she hoped—had removed her coat and corset. Not that she wanted to wear garments stiff with blood, but her catsuit wasn't warm. She sat up and rubbed her arms.

"Drink this."

She startled when Claudio appeared beside her, holding a flagon. He'd changed out of his ruined tuxedo into a black t-shirt and jeans that fit so well he must have designed them himself. "What is it?"

"Vitamix Potion. I have no food and you need to regain your strength. I gave you Blood-Replenishing Potion earlier."

"I don't remember that." Roxanne met his eyes and attempted a Legilimency spell. Images flashed into her mind.

Claudio lifting her unconscious body into his arms as if she weighed nothing . . . stripping off her coat and corset while her head lolled the side . . . his lips moving, saying something in Italian she didn't understand, and then kissing her neck before lowering her to the sofa cushions. His fingers brushed her unbound curls.

Roxanne looked away. "I should have called an ambulance. Now there's no proof of attempted murder."

"I saw the face of the one who attacked me. He will not harm me again." Claudio's gaze seemed focused on her hair. "It is longer than I expected." He reached out a hand. "May I?" He took her silence for permission and rubbed a curl between his fingertips. "Soft."

As his lips? She leaned toward him to find out and then jerked back, flushing. "Is this where you take all the girls? What will I see if you turn on the lights? A coffin big enough for two?"

Claudio chuckled. Enchanted windows high on the walls lit up, filling the room with natural looking daylight. Roxanne squinted against the brightness. When her eyes adjusted, her jaw dropped.

She was in a sewing studio. A masculine sewing studio dominated by a long wood and metal cutting table with rolls of fabric organised by colour on shelves underneath. On the far wall, different sizes of manila-coloured tagboard and paper hug from rails of industrial pipes. Patterns. So many handmade patterns. In a corner stood two grey dressmaker forms. One displayed her corset and coat. A well-tailored replica of Ministry robes hung from the other.

"I work for my uncle," Claudio said. "Only here, in my private studio, am I truly my own master. You are the first to—"

Roxanne kissed him, and kept kissing him until they were lying on the wide sofa. It was better than a Warming Charm. His lips were soft, and he tasted of brushing/flossing mints, not blood. She nipped his bottom lip. "The potion worked. I have loads of energy."

Claudio groaned. The sound was pained, not aroused.

She immediately sat up. "You're still healing?"

"I am healed." His eyes were sad. "But you slept for many hours and must leave for training, and I must return to the house of my uncle to rest."

"That's why you made the robes." So he could spend more time with her. Roxanne said, "I'll come back."

"For your other clothing?"

"To get to know you, and maybe give you another chance to prove me wrong."

He looked confused. "About what?"

Her face started to heat. "You know, about sharing blood feeling like sex?"

"It didn't?" He apologised in English and Italian. "Clients pay my uncle in blood. Too many years have passed since I drank from a vein instead of a cup."

Roxanne pressed her fingertips against his lips to keep him from apologising again. "It was better than any sex I've ever had."

In a blur of motion, Claudio was sitting beside her, cradling her face in his hands. "I want to know you, too, cara."

His passionate sweetness melted more than her knickers. She asked, "Do we have time for a proper snog before I have to go?"

"We will make time," he vowed.

And they did.

.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Anyone who follows my Scorpius and Rose story The Green Knight Rises will recognise Claudio as the nephew of Lucius Malfoy's tailor. Scorpius asked Claudio to do a side job for him tracking his ex-bestie Edgar Goyle, so if anyone wonders if the undercover enquiry work got him staked, it just might have! Or it could have been a nutter vampire hater. I'm leaving it open for interpretation. ;) This story was inspired by the last chapter of GKR when Scorpius said Claudio was bored with just being a tailor. I thought, "I think he needs a girlfriend" and decided to give him one. If readers enjoy this story, I hope you'll give me the Valentine's gift of a review. :)