Chapter Three

Hermione was deeply concerned about her friend. Luna didn't seem to be able to keep much down, and though it had only been a couple of weeks since her attack, it seemed she had a definite baby bump.

It took little effort to convince Luna to tell Ginny, as the two of them had become so close during the last year at Hogwarts, but it took a little more convincing before she finally broke down and decided to tell Harry and Ron. The two of them were ready to go on a rampage and hunt down every vampire that fit Luna's description of her attacker, until she and Hermione reminded them that Hermione had killed him.

It took much more convincing before Luna agreed to tell Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, who was now Headmistress. Hermione managed to persuade her that Madam Pomfrey would know more about how to help keep Luna healthy during her pregnancy, and that Professor McGonagall was the one they would have to go to for permission to use the Restricted Section. In return for granting them access to the library's full resources it was only fair that they trust her with the information, not to mention the fact that since Luna was technically still a student and Professor McGonagall the Headmistress, it was her business to know as it fell to her to look after the welfare of the students in her charge.

Things were made much more complicated by the fact that Luna insisted on keeping the baby. Hermione tried to argue against it, saying that even if by some miracle she didn't starve to death, the baby would still kill her during the birth. She explained how Muggle abortions worked, saying that they could make an appointment at a clinic and then Obliviate the doctors if necessary. But Luna was adamant, saying that it was time something good came out of everything they had gone through during the war.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Madam Pomfrey did everything they could to help her, and while her condition didn't seem to be too bad for the time being, Hermione was still incredibly worried. She'd read, of course, that male vampires could impregnate human women, but the only outcome she'd ever read about was the half-vampire child tearing its way from its mother's womb.

The search for information became almost feverish. While Luna's body was stabilized for now, receiving nutrients through magical means, Hermione knew it was only a matter of time – and not much of it, at that – before it was time for the birth, and she wasn't sure that even magical healing would save Luna if her stomach were ripped open.

Ginny made it her mission to keep Luna's spirits up while the other three Gryffindors hunted for information. She constantly reassured Luna that they were doing everything they could to find information, that no-one was going to let her or her baby die. What helped the most, Ginny said, was getting Luna to focus on a future with the baby. Thinking about names for the baby, planning where they would live, and drawing designs for a nursery were just some of the ways that Ginny was able to help keep her friend calm.

For the first time, Hermione, Harry, and Ron deliberately took advantage of their status as war heroes in their search for information. Hermione used hers to gain access to the best libraries Wizarding Britain possessed, but she wasn't having much luck. It seemed not a single author knew how long the half-vampires lived; they were far more mortal than their sires, though still harder to kill than their human mothers, and society generally tended to have a poor opinion of creatures that literally tore their mothers apart at birth. The half-vampire offspring were always demonized, hunted and put to death by vengeful members of their mothers' communities, usually before it was even known how quickly they grew.

The boys tracked down every expert on vampires they could learn of, but they had about as much success as Hermione had had with books. There was no getting around it. Very little was known about half-vampire children, and still less about surviving mothers.

The boys also tried to track down vampires to talk to, but it seemed most vampires in Britain had either left or gone underground as a result of negative public opinion due to the number of them that had sided with Voldemort in the war.

Hermione was in the Hogwarts library one night a week after the discovery of Luna's pregnancy, having been given special permission by Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress, to use the library whenever she needed, including after hours, to continue searching for information. She had gone there in the deepest and most silent part of the night to avoid those who would otherwise constantly follow her, with open books spread before her, their covers and pages overlapping each other in a haphazard manner that reflected the frenzy of her mind. She was clutching her hair in frustration, nearly ready to tear it out by its roots, when a sudden inspiration hit her with all the force of a bludger to the head.

"Slughorn's vampire friend!" she exclaimed.

She shot to her feet and stormed from the library, nearly running to Professor Slughorn's office. He was still the Potions Professor, and last year had been Head of Slytherin House.

When she reached his office and, by extension as they were attached to his office, his rooms, she pounded on the door. As an added measure she sent her Patronus to badger him awake and ask him to answer the door.

When a very disgruntled Professor Slughorn opened the door, dressed in blue striped pajamas and a night cap, he asked between yawns, "Really, Miss Granger, what do you mean by attempting to break down my door at this hour?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, and I wouldn't if it weren't truly urgent, but I need you to contact your vampire friend, the one you invited to the Christmas Party last year."

"Sanguini? But what do you want with him?"

"Please, Professor. May I come in? I don't want to talk about this in the hall, and it's urgent," she beseeched him.

He sighed, but opened the door, shifting his bulk to one side to allow her to pass. When she was inside, he shut the door behind her and replaced his wards, waving a hand to light the torches on the walls of his office. He sat behind his desk and bade her sit in the chair before him. She didn't.

He was about to ask her to explain herself, but she beat him to the punch.

She began pacing as she spoke. She decided to tell him most of the truth, leaving out as much identifying information as she could. "I was visiting a friend of mine for dinner about three weeks ago. She went outside to her garden to call her dog back inside and was attacked by a vampire. He raped her, but did not bite her. She only had a few broken bones and some bleeding in the area where he brutalized her. I killed him for hurting her. Later, healers were able to fix her up, but it wasn't until a week ago that we learned she was pregnant with the vampire's child. I've read enough to know that unless we find a way to get the child out of her soon, it will tear its way from her womb when it comes time for it to be born. If, of course, her body survives the pregnancy itself. But we need more information, and I was hoping your friend could help me, or point me to someone who could." Here she turned back to face him, approaching the desk and gripping the edge with her hands as she leaned in toward him, her eyes intense. "Please, sir, I need you to contact Sanguini. It's a matter of my friend's life or death."

He gaped at her for a long moment, absolutely bewildered, before he finally slumped back into his chair, his breath leaving his lungs with a whoosh and causing him to most unfortunately resemble a walrus that had just been deflated. "Well, Miss Granger, of course I will do my best. I will contact Sanguini tomorrow and ask him to come speak to you and tell you everything he knows about such a situation. I myself have heard rumors of such half-vampires, and have heard that they can live forever just like their vampire fathers as long as they are not killed, but they are easier to kill than a vampire. I have heard from some that they have venom just like their sires but I have also heard that they do not. I also have heard that they can subsist on both blood and human food."

She nodded. She had heard the same things. Suddenly exhausted, she sighed. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sorry for being so forceful, but I don't know how much time my friend has. She's only three weeks along, and yet she looks like she's more like three or four months along. It seems her pregnancy is moving along at an accelerated rate, and that can't be a good thing. I hate to be disrespectful, but I have to insist that you hurry, and that you tell Sanguini the same."

Slughorn looked somewhat aghast at being spoken to like that by a former student, but he didn't admonish her. Instead, he nodded and said, "Very well, Miss Granger. Though it is late, I will send him my owl tonight. After all, he does not sleep, so I am not interrupting his night's rest. Do you want me to awaken you should he respond tonight?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes. Send me a Patronus. I don't care what time it is. I've got to find a way to help my friend quickly."

He gave his assent, and she bade him goodnight, rising to leave the room. Before she had taken more than a couple of steps, however, he stopped her.

"By the way, Miss Granger, though I do not doubt that Sanguini will have the information you seek or know of someone who does, he will most likely ask for something in return. Likely he will ask for a taste of your blood, or for the chance to, er, enjoy some of your other favors. Do not give him either. He has a particular gift – in fact, I believe it is his particular vampiric ability – for binding others to him once his body has become intimately familiar with some part of theirs, particularly blood or, er, sexual secretions. It is the other reason he is called Sanguini. Do not let him close enough to take any physical trace of you into his body, or he will be able to bind you to him. I don't think you need an explanation of what such a binding would entail," he warned her. She shuddered in distaste. No, she did not.

"What should I offer, then, if he will demand something in return?" she asked reluctantly.

"There is a large coven of vampires in Italy, called the Volturi, that essentially rules the vampire world. They can sometimes be rather tyrannical. Many vampires consider it an honor to be sought by them to join the ranks of their Guard, but there are others who do not. Sanguini is one of these, but the leaders of the Volturi have taken it into their heads that his abilities would be particularly useful for luring prey, particularly of the magical variety. They would have him persuade young witches, for instance, that he wishes to neither drain them completely nor turn them and that they need only use their wands to extract a small amount of blood, enough for him to drink but not enough to harm them. Then, after he has drunk the blood they would be bound to him and compelled to follow him back to the stronghold of the Volturi, where they would then be compelled to give up their wands, rendering themselves helpless, like lambs led to slaughter." His words painted a vivid picture, and she could see the carnage all too easily in her mind's eye.

"As questionable as his morals may be," Slughorn continued, "he recognizes the fact that, should the Volturi manage to get their hands on him and force him to use those abilities, it would inevitably start a war between the vampire and magical worlds. He takes this matter very seriously, and if you offer honestly to help him avoid the Volturi, he will give you the information you seek. We at Hogwarts would shelter him here if not for our concerns for the safety of the students."

She sighed, not liking the situation at all, but not knowing what else to do. How many would she commit to helping before everything was done? She agreed, however, knowing that her friend's life was at stake – she frowned in distaste at the unintentional pun – and when she asked and he said there was nothing else, she left, utterly exhausted.

She returned to the library to organize her books on the table she'd been using, closing them and stacking them up before taking her leave. Madam Pince had agreed to let her have exclusive use of the table in the most secluded corner of the library, and to let her keep the books there so she wouldn't have to constantly search for them whenever she returned to the library. As Hermione spent so much time in the library anyway what with her apprenticeship, she had made this arrangement with the old Librarian, and between the two of them, they had erected wards about the table so no one else would be able to sit there or even touch the books on the table.

She replaced the wards now, then extinguished the lamps around the table, and then left the library. Silently she made her way through the castle and into her room.

She awoke abruptly what felt like a far too short time later, sitting bolt upright with her wand in her hand without her having consciously made the decision to reach for it. Frowning, she got out of bed, still clutching her wand in her hand, and looked carefully around her dark bedroom to see if she could figure out what had awoken her. She froze when her eyes fell on the window and saw the owl sitting on the sill in front of it.

Carefully, so as not to wake Luna, she made her way to the window to let the owl in. It flew inside on silent wings and landed on the back of her desk chair, holding out one leg.

Hermione lit one of the candles so she could see better and removed the letter from the owl's leg. When it didn't move, she realized it must have been told to wait for a reply.

The letter was very brief.

Where and when shall I find you, deliziosa? And do come alone, won't you? The fewer people I am exposed to, the easier I will rest with sharing what I know.

S.

Without further ado, she seized a quill and turned the parchment over. Her letter was even shorter.

The Hogshead, tomorrow, noon. I'll be alone.

She tied the letter to the owl's leg, gave it an owl treat, and watched it take off as silently as it had arrived.

The next day was a Saturday. She told Professor McGonagall she was meeting a potential source of information in Hogsmeade, though she managed to make the elderly witch think she was going to the Three Broomsticks, and neglected to say that she was meeting a vampire.

Getting past Harry and Ron was a little harder, as they insisted on accompanying her, but she was able to shake them off – after all, as students, they were not allowed to leave the castle on a non-Hogsmeade weekend. What she didn't know was that they found her insistence to be a bit suspicious, and the son of a Marauder and the younger brother of Fred and George donned Harry's old cloak and followed her.

Noon found her sitting in a dark corner of the Hogshead, cloaked and glamoured to look like a witch with straight black hair worn in a bob, tanned skin, nondescript brown eyes, flat cheekbones, a slightly too-wide mouth, and no freckles. It was as forgettable a face as she could design. She was also surrounded by a modified notice-me-not charm that would work mostly on witches or wizards.

She took note of every single patron who walked through the door, but to her dismay, there were few witches or wizards. Most of the patrons that frequented this isolated corner of Hogsmeade at this time of day, it seemed, were magical beings. Her notice-me-not charm was designed for witches and wizards. And there were at least three vampires.

She forced herself to stay calm, but now she was hyper-alert, knowing that a vampire would still be able to sense her anxiety. Within the folds of her cloak she clutched her wand. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to not tell McGonagall where exactly she would be and with whom.

It wasn't long before one of the vampires approached her table.

"It takes a very brave witch who will come to the Hogshead when there are no other Wizarding Folk about. Do let me sit, deliziosa," he purred. "I…thirst…to become better acquainted with you."

The pun nearly made her laugh. "I'm sure you do," she replied tartly, fighting her body's natural reaction to the sound of his voice. He was doing it on purpose anyway. She knew enough about vampires to know when one was deliberately using physical attributes to attempt to dazzle a person into complacency. She was sure he'd give her the information she sought, but she also remembered Slughorn's words, and had a feeling he'd try to get far more out of her in return than she would be willing to give. No matter, though. She knew his game, and she was prepared to win it.

But she had also realized something. Sanguini had said there were no other Wizarding folk about – but Aberforth was behind the bar, very much aware of what was going on. She'd sent him an owl early this morning informing him of who she was and what her purpose was, as well as stating that it would do no good to try and convince her to not go through with this plan.

She wondered if perhaps Sanguini was like so many other patrons of bars and pubs, unconcerned with those who worked in them. Well, it could only work to her advantage if he weren't expecting her to have back-up. Still, she had also cast protection charms around herself, strong enough that if he tried to come anywhere closer than the opposite side of the very wide table, he would be literally blasted away from her.

He seemed to understand her silent message. With a smirk he said, "Well, it certainly seems as if I won't be able to catch you off-guard, now doesn't it, cara mia?" So saying, he toasted her with the glass he held in his hand, not taking his eyes from hers, and a glance at the glass told her he was gauging her reaction to the fact that his glass contained blood. She showed absolutely no sign of recognition.

"No, you won't. I don't have time to be playing a vampire's game of chase. So you would do well not to start one," she answered as she sat back.

He inclined his head, conceding the matter. He glanced at something behind her before he sat back as well, continuing to study every detail of her face. She mused with great distaste that she was glad she had glamoured herself, though she knew it was probable he knew what she looked like, as she had contacted him using her real name, and as much as she hated the fact, she knew most of the Wizarding World probably knew what she looked like.

Finally he spoke. "Well, cara, how is it that an old vampire like me may assist such a lovely little morsel like yourself?" he asked grandly, a bit of a leer on his handsome face. Dispassionately she noted that his facial features and his coloring – minus the natural pallor of a vampire – resembled those of Professor Snape, and she wondered idly if this vampire were a distant relative on either side, however far back.

"Well, for one thing, I'd appreciate it if you would stop talking to me like I'm your next meal. While I'm sure you would love for that to be the case, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you. As I said, I have no time to be playing a vampire's games," she told him sternly, before getting down to business.

"Which brings me to the reason you're here," she continued briskly. "My friend was attacked and raped, though not bitten, by a vampire three weeks ago, not far from here. He broke a few of her bones and tore into her femoral artery in his haste to get what he wanted, but there were no bite marks, no trace of vampire venom, and other than her severed femoral artery, no potentially fatal wounds. I killed him in retaliation for hurting her. However, we found out two weeks after the attack that the vampire left her a little gift to remember him by. She's pregnant."

"Ah," he said softly. "And here is the heart of the matter, the reason you had Orazio call me. You cannot find sufficient information about what to expect other than the very real possibility that when it comes time for your friend to give birth, the child will tear its way from her womb and kill her. And yes, it is a possibility. In fact," he said dispassionately, "that is the way it usually happens."

She leaned forward, eyes blazing. "Well, it's not going to happen this time. If I have to put her in a coma at the first signs of labor and kidnap a Muggle doctor to remove the child by hand and then stitch her up and Obliviate the Muggle afterwards, I will. What I want to know from you is what happens in the mean time. She's not keeping much down anymore. How is she supposed to continue to obtain nutrients if the baby causes her to reject everything that passes her lips? How do I keep the child from cracking every bone of hers that it touches as it grows? Will the child pose a danger even after it is born? That's the information I need. If you don't have it, then I need to know who does."

"And what may I expect in return for this information?" he asked slowly. His eyes gleamed, as if he knew exactly what he would ask for if she were foolish enough to offer anything.

She instantly and ruthlessly shot down his assumptions. "I'm not giving you any of my blood, nor am I letting you ravish me, so you can wipe that look off your face if that's what you're thinking. Professor Slughorn told me all about your little gift, and I'm not letting you close enough to touch me. He also, however, told me about your troubles with the Volturi. If you help me, I promise I'll help you hide from them. I can make it so that no one, wizard, vampire, or Muggle, will ever be able to find you."

At the gleam of interest in his eyes, she continued, "Of course, you'd have to help me first, but if it reassures you, I can take a wand oath promising to help you if I am satisfied with your help."

He considered for what seemed an impossibly long time. Hermione was starting to get antsy when he finally spoke. "Very well. I will help you."