Author's Note: hope you all enjoy!
The Missing Piece Chapter Twenty Eight
Day: 65
"Welcome to your kitchen." Crowley stated, shoving Hermione harshly into a room that did not look anything like a kitchen, save for a few cupboards on the walls and counters. There was one large wooden table in the center of the room where Hermione assumed she would be making the potion. The whole room was rather depressing, with a grey, brown, and black color palette and no natural light. Hermione could not decide whether she preferred the dungeon or this "kitchen" to be honest, but she reminded herself not to expect too much, considering the present company she was in. "How many days will you be needing." Crowley added, making his question into more of a statement. The man seemed to have trouble asking people he deemed lower class questions rather than orders.
"Three." Hermione stated quietly yet defiantly. She internally marveled at the ease in which she could now speak, and the effortlessness she had when breathing or standing.
She stood at the frame of the kitchen door, a bit tense, waiting for an answer from Crowley. She knew very well that if he got angry or unsatisfied he would have no problem breaking his deal and harming Draco. She dared not turn around and face him. She could feel him standing about two feet behind her, probably leaning against a wall in that pretentious, pompous manner of his, gloating at the power he held. She tensed even more when she heard him inhale and exhale loudly, but waited for a reply.
"Fine." Was all he said. "You are to work on this non-stop. I will allow you two to four hours of sleep. We will come back and give you a wand, and it will have its restrictions. Try anything funny, and you're going to hear your little love-bug of a blood traitor down there praying for mercy. Understood?"
Hermione did not respond at all. Crowley seemed to take her silence as an agreement.
"Good." He continued. "Oh and uh, Morgan is going to watch you and make sure you stay on track."
At this statement Hermione turned to face Crowley with a curious expression on her face, but where Crowley should have been, stood nothing but air.
"Git." She muttered under her breath. She turned back and faced the room, and took a few steps into it, looking over the state of her new workplace. The wood seemed to be old and humid, that much was obvious by touching it. The table which stood in the center seemed to be very unstable and due to collapse any day. It didn't seem like Hermione had much to work with. She opened the dingy, cob-web filled cabinets to search for any supplies she might be able to use, running through the list in her head. She crossed the room to search the other set of cabinets when something caught her eye. To her right, there was a wooden door, left ajar. The room that door stood in front of seemed to be pitch dark, but that wasn't what interested her. There was a set of eyes, bright red, that regarded her from the inside.
Hermione's breath caught, and she froze. Those eyes couldn't possibly belong to a witch or wizard.
"Hello…?" She called, very unsure of herself. She wasn't quite sure why she greeted whatever it was, but if the creature was capable of any intelligence, it was best to start off politely.
"Hello." Replied a female voice in a curt manner. The voice had a sort of accent, Hermione thought perhaps Scottish, or French, she couldn't pin point it from just the single word.
Hermione took a few moments to compose herself and take a few breaths before continuing.
"Who are you?" or, 'what are you' would have been more appropriate.
"Morgan." Replied the woman. Hermione added Russian to the list of potential accents. Hermione quickly learned that the woman did not talk very much, for so far she had just given one word answers and no questions in return. This must have been the Morgan Crowley had mentioned, so Hermione wouldn't expect her to ask questions in the first place. Hermione thought of just dropping this dead conversation and begin the potion, but curiosity got the better of her.
"Um, if you don't mind me asking… are you human? B-because you don't seem—I mean your eyes are-"
"Vampire."
At this Hermione backed up a little.
"Oh. Okay then. N-nice to meet you." Hermione said, trying to keep her voice calm. Her vast knowledge in all subjects and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts told her that vampires were an extremely dangerous species for many obvious reasons. Through her mind, she ran through all the possible ways to defend oneself against these creatures if the need arose, but upon taking a quick look about the room she found none of the materials she needed.
"I have self-control." The vampire said in response to Hermione's cautious actions and expressions. "And I already fed." Morgan added when Hermione's expressions did not cease.
Hermione's mind was suddenly filled with images of vampires feasting on human flesh and she cringed slightly, but shook it from her mind rather quickly in an effort to be polite. Morgan had done nothing to her so far, so Hermione believed politeness was in order. Besides, these creatures couldn't help who they were.
"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione stated, introducing herself. She felt quite silly, speaking to two red eyes peeking through a wooden door. Then again, vampires were known to be careful, and cautious creatures.
"I know who you are."
"So, Death Eaters are working with vampires now?" Hermione asked. She was half-surprised. The last time magical creatures paired up with dark forces was during the Battle of Hogwarts, her seventh year. Voldemort had betrayed the magical creatures, used them for his biding, and disposed of them as he wished. She was surprised they would accept another offer from Death Eaters.
"No." Morgan replied. Hermione decided her accent was a cross between Russian and Scottish.
"But you are?" It irritated Hermione that the woman refused to give more than one word answers, but Hermione knew she wouldn't stop asking until her curiosity was satisfied.
"Yes."
"Care to explain?" Hermione prompted in a slightly more impatient tone than she would have liked. At that moment, the door creaked open wider, the dim light from the kitchen poured into the room behind the door to reveal what Hermione perceived as a small pantry of potion ingredients and the vampire woman herself. For a split second Hermione thought she had angered the woman, because the vampire began to take a few steps toward Hermione. Her heart began pounding madly. Morgan snickered, and Hermione had a feeling it had to do with her heart beat. Then the vampire walked out gracefully to the center of the room where the table was, and leaned against it in a casual manner.
It had been the first time Hermione had seen a vampire so close and personal, not to mention this time it wasn't trapped in a picture in a book. The vampire looked surprisingly human, apart from the crimson red eyes, and paper thin, brittle skin which seemed to glow in the dim light. Morgan had been human once, after all. Hermione couldn't help her look of bewilderment upon looking at her in such close quarters. Hermione took in everything about her for her own personal notes, from Morgan's long, tangled brown hair, the pointy and probably extremely sensitive nose, to the clothes she wore, which were composed of tattered jeans, a black muggle tee shirt that looked a bit too big, and a denim jacket. The blood stains on each article of clothing told Hermione that Morgan had stolen these clothes from her victims.
"Are you quite finished?" Morgan asked very irritably in her thick Scottish-Russian accent. Hermione, now realizing she had been staring quite rudely, hastily apologized and blushed out of embarrassment. "I do what is convenient for me. That is why I travel alone, not alongside my coven. Right now, this is convenient. Tomorrow, who knows?"
"But what about what Voldemort did to your kind? Aren't you angry? Doesn't that make you not want to ally yourself with them?" Hermione questioned, not understanding how someone could do what's convenient instead of what was morally correct.
"Yes and no. Unlike my kind I don't hold grudges. They gave me a convenient opportunity, I take it. That is all there is to it. There is no sides, no good or bad. In the future if someone else gives me better opportunities I will turn back on these people and go with the person who offered. That is how things work in my world."
Hermione just stood there, wondering how someone could live like that. It seemed so selfish…
"What about you, how did you, defender of magical law, and magical creatures, end up here?" Morgan asked. She seemed to be rather open now, giving extended answers and even asking questions in return. This lifted Hermione's hopes and erased all previous confusion about Morgan's lifestyle.
"I got my memory erased, and when I got it back, they captured me, basically." Hermione replied, not sure if she should be telling her life story to a vampire stranger.
"Why was your memory erased?"
"Well I had been developing this potion for several years now, and it's highly dangerous if it lands in the wrong hands, and now the wrong hand wants it, and they've captured me to make it for them."
"So, you erased your memory to forget the potion." Morgan stated. Hermione could see Morgan trying to make sense of it in her head.
"Well, no, actually, someone else did it. My memory would have been intact if it weren't for her. She ended up erasing two years of my life, which turned out to be a pretty big chunk of my life."
"Why?" Morgan prompted, completely intrigued.
"Well, for starters, it turns out during those two years, my best friend's rival at school became my boyfriend and almost fiancée, I got promoted to Head of Magical Law Enforcement, which is the job I have always wanted, and just… precious memories have been taken from me."
"Why couldn't she have just erased the potion and leave everything else?"
"Well, I suppose she was being careful. The seed to this idea for this potion was planted since two years ago so I suppose she just wanted to be thorough and not leave any trace of the idea."
"Very smart." Morgan commented. Then, she added, "So that's why you are here."
"I thought you'd know, Crowley said you'd be watching to make sure I do it."
"I am always here, I only heard him tell you what I was to do, that is all."
Hermione nodded silently, and looked about the room absentmindedly. She should get started on this potion, considering she only had three days.
"I really admire what you have done with the Statute for Magical Creatures. Not many wizards and witches are keen on giving us that much freedom. I suppose I owe you one for that because it made my life easier, but right now it's not convenient." Morgan said, seeming to think aloud for herself.
Hermione shot Morgan a peculiar look which the vampire did not see, and began to search the room for ingredients. Morgan was definitely a very peculiar vampire, not like anything she had read on at all. According to her studies vampires stuck together in a coven, and never did anything without consulting its members. They only talked to humans when it was necessary and for hunting purposes. Hermione was very intrigued to learn more about her. What made her this way?
"Thank you." Hermione said aloud, slightly late in reply.
Day: 66
Hermione began working on her potion by writing down all of the required ingredients on a piece of parchment that had been provided for her. Despite being held captive, the Death Eaters were pretty much at her disposal, fetching her ingredients, supplies, cauldrons, scales, and anything else she required. They wanted her to make the potion pretty badly, she figured. She felt awkward at times, due to the fact that Morgan kept overseeing exactly what she was doing, but it was the woman's job. Several times, Hermione had tried to make small talk with the vampire, but it appeared Morgan was not interested, which frustrated Hermione because she was growing infinitely more curious about the vampire.
Hermione heard the door creak, and she looked up to find a man dressed in standard black robes at the door holding a wooden box. He dropped the box on the center table where Hermione had been working without a word, and Hermione took the opportunity to give him her list. The man took one look at it as soon as he had snatched it from her hands and placed it inside a pocket of his robes.
"I am hungry." Morgan stated in a very commanding manner from her reclined position against the back wall.
"We will arrange for you to feed sometime today. After the mudblood finishes her potion perhaps you can eat her too." The man replied in a way that suggested a joke, but the implication was real. The man immediately turned on his heel and headed out of the room.
Hermione suddenly felt very uncomfortable—more uncomfortable than she had been when she first met Morgan. Maybe it had to do with the fact that there was a vampire in the same room as her, who currently had a knack for drinking human blood. Hermione respected and viewed magical creatures as equals as much as possible, but that didn't excuse feeling fear when being in the same room as one. It wasn't as if Hermione could trust Morgan. No matter how curious they may both be about the other, Hermione was not willing to forget that Morgan was on the opposite side, helping Death Eaters whether convenient or not.
"Fear not, I shall not feast on you. I have self-control." Morgan muttered from her spot on the wall. Hermione felt herself relax a small amount. She had not realized she had tensed up, and made a conscious effort to appear relaxed so as not to appear as the fearful human. "Besides," Morgan added, "It is not convenient."
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, silently thankful for having her back turned to the vampire. She began to sift through the wooden box, finding a large black pewter size cauldron, a ladle, several knives, scales, a cutting board and several other supplies. She began to lay them all out on the table.
"Why such an emphasis on convenience? Why don't you pick a side, and fight for it, whether convenient or not?" Hermione said suddenly to Morgan.
"Survival." Was all the vampire said.
Hermione supposed that made sense, but it was an extremely selfish way to live. What if her kind needed her, but it was not convenient for Morgan? What then? Hermione voiced this train of thought, attempting to make it sound as polite as possible. To that, Morgan replied,
"Selfish or not, all that matters is survival. No morals. Just take what's convenient."
"But what about your coven?" Hermione asked. Having finished taking her supplies from the box, she turned to face Morgan. "I've read that vampires rely heavily on their coven. They do everything together. No decision is made without consulting the coven. I just do not understand how you can be so… different."
"There is no coven." The vampire replied, "Just me."
It dawned on Hermione that perhaps Morgan's coven had died in a terrible war or accident. Perhaps they had been wiped out by an external force.
"Did you ever decide to maybe look for another coven?"
Morgan shot her a look that made Hermione shrink back a bit. The vampire's eyes got so dark and ominous that Hermione immediately regretted her question.
"When your family abandons you and leaves you to die, do you go off looking for another family?" Morgan questioned rhetorically. Hermione thought about it. She supposed that on the off chance that her muggle family deserted her she would go to another family member, or to her friends. For a vampire, however, all those in one's family were in the coven. There was no one else of relation outside the coven. As for friends, different covens didn't interact with each other. Vampires don't have time for friends. So no, under those circumstances she would try to make it the best she could on her own. That explained Morgan's "convenience for the sake of survival" lifestyle.
Hermione was struck with a bolt of sympathy and sadness for the woman who so casually leaned against a wall in front of her. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Morgan.
"They left you?" Hermione said finally. But Hermione could not get an answer. At that moment, the same man who dropped the box of supplies off appeared at the door with another box, which he dropped off at the table.
"Go eat now." The man directed at Morgan. Then he gave Hermione a disgusted look and turned to leave.
"Don't pity me, human." Morgan spat, following after the man. "I do not need your sympathetic looks. And prying into my life."
Her parting words shocked Hermione. She had not expected this type of reply. All of the words that came out of Morgan's mouth made Hermione feel degraded, especially how she had said human. As if humankind was lower than the rats that crawled upon muggle subways. She expected that from Death Eaters, not her. Not after all they talked about.
Instead of deciding to put too much thought into Morgan's words, Hermione cleared her head and turned her attention to the box, which she found, contained her ingredients.
Day: 67
"Well then, let's test it." Crowley said, surveying the clear liquid inside the cauldron. "get the wand, too." He snapped his fingers at the three Death Eaters who stood behind him, like bodyguards. One of them stepped forward, and walked toward Hermione, who pulled the wand from her pocket and dropped it in the Death Eater's hands. She was glad she worked all night without a blink of sleep, because her fatigue and the bags under her eyes covered her determination and complete confidence that her plan would work.
"You." Crowley directed at Morgan, similar to how a snob would treat their maids. "Come." He grabbed a glass vial and filled it with the clear liquid from the cauldron, and shoved it at Morgan. The vampire looked taken aback.
"I am not here to be your guinea pig." Morgan spat.
"You are here to do as I say, and as I say, you will do. Now drink."
Morgan looked very much like she wanted to claw out Crowley's eyeballs, but she took the drink anyways and drank.
"Avada Kedavra!" Crowley said as soon as he took out his wand and pointed it at the vampire. The green light shot Morgan straight in the chest and the vampire fell down to the floor.
"How dare you attack me, you—"
"Ah, ah, ah." Crowley interrupted, raising his index finger to shush the fallen vampire. "Do not insult me. Putrid life-form." He said the last words under his breath as he turned to Hermione with a look of satisfaction. "You've done well." Was all he said. Then he directed his men to take Hermione back to the dungeon.
"I held up my end of the deal. Let Draco go." The Death Eaters had already gripped Hermione's arms and begun to pull her toward the door but the witch wouldn't budge.
"How naïve." Crowley said, looking around the room in mock sweetness. "Things don't work that way around here, dear."
The Death Eaters began to pull Hermione to the door, but Hermione refused to do anything.
"Fine. Let her stay here. It's more tragic this way." Crowley ordered. "You know, two loves, separated by walls, tortured in the night by each other's screams, never to see each other again."
Crowley and the Death Eaters turned around and headed out the door, leaving Hermione immobile with shock. But once the coast was clear, Hermione smiled, because they were the naïve ones.
A/N: please don't forget to review and let me know what you think!