[Hermione/Narcissa] Vampire AU. Hermione's pretty out of character (I've never been particularly good at writing her), so I apologise for that.

Hermione watched, red eyes glinting in the light cast by the nearby streetlamp, as the woman walked alone. Her breath ghosted before her, her lips pale and her cheeks red, as she shivered. The night was cold - not unusual for this time of year, but colder than the resent weather had been - and Hermione wondered briefly why the woman would be out alone in such conditions, especially in this deserted part of town.

But she didn't dwell on it long, for this woman would do perfectly - Hermione, after all, had no need of her mind in this instance.

She followed her further down the street, watching her every move with starved attentiveness. Her gaze was caught by the shadow of a sharp cheekbone, the curve of her eyelashes, the slight smirk of her lips.

The woman stopped at the end of the narrow path, turning, staring right at Hermione, despite the precautions she had implemented to remain hidden.

"Well, vampire, did you enjoy the journey?" The woman laughed, blonde hair framing her face and pale blue eyes regarding Hermione with a coldness that matched the night.

Hermione carefully stepped from her hiding place, surprise pushed to the side for the time being.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Several cloaked figures - and how had she not noticed their presence before now? She must really be slipping - emerged from the shadows, standing in loose formation around the woman.

"My husband's master requires your presence," she stated, seemingly emboldened by the figures surrounding her. She needn't have been; Hermione could take care of them in an instant if she so desired.

"Husband? Pity." Hermione stepped closer to the group, attention solely on the woman, feeling pleased at the brief look of worry that crossed her features. Good. She had been getting a bit too confident for a moment there.

"He's a very powerful man, you know."

"Of course, dear."

"And- And his master wishes for you to join his cause," the woman stuttered momentarily, but seemed to regain her composure.

"Perhaps we could talk more, just you and I," Hermione suggested, stepping ever closer to the woman.

"Narcissa," the cloaked figure to the woman's immediate left hissed, believing Hermione unable to hear such a hushed tone. The husband, presumably.

"What do you say, Narcissa?" Narcissa flinched. "I give you my word that you will survive the evening."

.oOo.

Narcissa looked around her, expression that of confusion.

"This is where you live?"

"For now." The cottage was small, once having belonged to an elderly lady and her cat; the cat was still in residence - Hermione had named him Crookshanks - a feisty creature she had taken quite a liking to, and no small part of the reason as to why she had chosen this particular cottage.

Shelves lined every available wall - Hermione's only contribution to the furnishings - and were crammed so full of books that each shelf sagged towards the middle. More books were stacked on the floor, tucked out of the way, and the coffee table.

"It's very… cosy," Narcissa said with a slight air of distaste.

"And what is wrong with that?" Hermione asked defensively. She happened to quite like the little house she lived in, and enjoyed the isolation it provided.

"Nothing, nothing," Narcissa was quick to reassure. "I only meant that it isn't quite… befitting for one of your stature."

"Ah." Hermione's eyes narrowed. "And what do you think is?"

"I…" Narcissa trailed off. Hermione could hear her heartbeat quickening, see it in the pulse of her neck. Her mouth filled with saliva, and she couldn't help but lick her lips just thinking of what this woman would taste like.

"No worries, Narcissa. I'm sure you meant no harm."

"Y-you promised. You promised you wouldn't kill me!" Narcissa's voice trembled as she spoke, her pulse still quickening. Her cheeks flushed beautifully, and her eyes shone brightly with fear.

"I did, didn't I?" Hermione mused, inching closer to the other woman. She could feel the heat emanating from her even at this distance, and it was intoxicating.

"Don't worry, Narcissa," she enjoyed the way her tongue curled around the name, "you shan't be dying tonight."