Ok, so now the "cuteness" is put to rest for a little while… lets see if you like this….
………..
Ginny stood in his doorway, light creating a silhouette and hiding her face.
He glanced up at her from the book he was reading, "Yes?"
"It is time." She stood still until he closed his book.
He was going to finally be a Chosen; finally gain his rightful place as the Prince of the Chosen. He would be all-powerful, finally a pure vampyre. So why wasn't he happy? Why did he keep thinking of Her? Her little body, so delicate in his arms. Her face, her smile, her…. innocence.
Innocence lost.
………
He stood in a black, hooded robe in the middle of a stone wrought table. Figures surrounded the edges and the center where he stood, a language he didn't know.
Other hooded people surrounded the table: each held a stone knife and all faces were shrouded by the black of the night.
All except Rowan were chanting, reading the ancient symbols of the table. As each symbol was announced, it lighted itself as thought from the inside. The symbols emitted a black light that shone with such ferocity it could not be looked at.
Once the symbols Draco was surrounded with were read, there was a pause. The symbols where he stood had not lit up. Suddenly, they flared so brightly they drowned all other things from sight.
He was in mortal pain, every inch of him was on fire and his vision swam.
Just as it had come upon him, it stopped. He found himself on his hands and knees, gasping for air that he could not find.
Hands were raised around him and at a signal knives were slashed against waiting wrists.
He screamed, for he could feel the pain of thirty knives.
Blood of the Chosen dripped into a crevice around the table. The lights of the symbols burned brighter, threatening to consume him in its fury.
One voice boomed above the rest, "Read the symbols and accept your fate."
"But I can't…" His voice was lost.
He squinted, trying to make sense of the strange ruins. He blinked, and suddenly knew how to say them.
"Klepmno." Agony. He lost his sight again in a flash of pain.
Each word he pronounced awarded him with a fresh wave of hurt. Somehow he managed to finish. The symbols flashed once and were extinguished.
A tarnished goblet was paced in his hands.
"Drink." A voice intoned.
He drank. Blood. The metallic scent filled his mind and consumed his, every fiery drop a pleasure. Strength seeped back into is limbs. Greedily, he gulped until there was no drop left.
"More." He rasped.
A young woman was brought forward. She was trembling and clothed in a long white cloak. Her golden hair was wispy and she looked at him with tear filled eyes.
He was too consumed in bloodlust to notice the similarity in features between the girls and Hermiones.
She was thrown onto the table and she pushed herself up. She whispered three words that he didn't hear, "Hermione, help me."
He walked toward her, teeth bared.
She was cut from the fall on the table. A crimson river flowed from her lip to her chin.
His pupils dilated. He darted forward and sank his teeth into her neck. Warm blood- living blood. He reveled in the taste, rolling it on his tongue.
He could sense the live fading out of her. He extracted his teeth before she died. Her breath was coming in quick gasps and he let her fall to the table.
He picked her up in his arms, looking at hr lolling head as he studied hr. With a smirk, he tossed her off the table into the crowd of thirsty Chosen.
He felt the powers of the vampyres coursing throughout him. A golden circlet with a blood red ruby was placed atop his head.
He smiled.
………..
Her body was left beside the table. A wind tugged at her cloak until it relinquished a torn cloth. It carried it in its wake.
Her blond hair was streaked with mud, and her eyes were open. Her mouth was parted in an unheard scream and teeth marks marred her skin.
Rain fell, covering the body of Luna Granger with a layer of water, a shroud.
………………
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. How do you like? Yes, so I killed off a character.
Note: She is dead this time. Too bad, huh?