I'm back. If you still have this on the Alert list, I compliment your patience (or lack of account upkeep, but eh…)

Enjoy!

***Countess***

8. September 1996

The sun set over the proud mountains of the austrian alps. Hallstatt, the small village with great heritage down there, sitting like a monument of oldest age next to the lake, shone orange and red in the light of the falling sun. Around the village, the forests began to rest, or awoke to the calling of the moon. Silence began reigning as the predators of the night prepared themselves for their hunts in the shadow.

Hermione Granger stood at the balcony of the room she hadn't left since her arrival at the mansion. All the awe inspiring nature around her couldn't hold her attention. Her eyes were fixed, as so often these days, on the claws that were her hands. They were black like coal, with power waiting underneath the tip of each claw. Curved were they, like the talons of eagles, and sharp like those of hippogriffs. Her hands were covered in scales of obsidian black color, up to her elbow were they faded into her pale, almost white skin. Those claws cut through her sheets which hung now, no more than teared rags at this point, over her bed and those scales were the only part of her body that her claws could not hurt. Skin, fabric, even some lesser metals were like warm butter under razor blades for her hands. The merest touch with the tips inflicted wounds, as if she needed another weapon, as if her magic wasn't dangerous enough.

She heard the door open behind her and one of the many maidens of the residence enter. The sheets rustled as the girl gave haste to change them for another set that would be torn apart tomorrow. Another maid entered and Hermione felt her meager patience run low again. Her temper was short fused, and brought with it brutality that was so well represented in the claws. "I said I do not want to be disturbed." she growled out, her voice echoing with a dozen tongues from every direction.

In an instant the rustling stopped and the second maid halted whatever she was about to do.

"Aber..." the first one whimpered out. "but, the Chieftess ordered..."

"I do not care what the Chieftess ordered. Leave!"

"Yes, your majesty." they chorused and as quickly as they came, they hurried out of the room, leaving the sheets half changed, the candles half lit and the flowers in the vase still withered.

***Countess***

Edda looked up the staircase, seeing once again the servants of that High Priestess run from the big bad Countess. She had heard that the Bloodmoon could be intimidating, even to a spectre, but this was just ridiculous. The girls fled the hall head over heels, careful to dodge anyone who might be in charge of anything remotely important.

That did not include her. At all. She had thought patrolling the swamps was a bore. Standing guard in the fortress that was this mansion though, that was a true torture of endless boredom.

The only bit of entertainment were the bickering VIP's everywhere. The vampires claimed that since the Countess was one of theirs, they ought to be granted the honor of becoming her guard. The werewolves pointed out that it was them who found her and saw to it that she would even have the chance to become the Countess. Her commander then would argue that it was the Varangian Guard that has been and will always be the right hand of the Bloodmoon.

Edda thought the werewolves had the best claim there, given that the vampires hadn't given a shit until the Countess Granger tasted her first real meal, an event that had the servants still shivering in fear, and the Varangian Guard wasn't exactly the feared army of battlemages anymore that it has been at the time of the Impaler.

One of these arguments came sounding into the hall from the lounge. She heard the deep rumbling of her commander's voice, proclaiming for the entire mansion to hear that during the year so-and-so the Impaler gave this-and-that order to him, therefore the Guard must be granted the honor.

Edda sure was glad that her completely black eyes didn't make it easy for anyone else to see her roll them. "Same old, same old, Commander." she mumbled, making the guard right of her snort in amusement.

The quiet giggle of her comrade was short lived. Almost out of nowhere, one of the Captains, Pyrelius Cladius, stepped next to them. he was a regal looking roman, with broad shoulders. He was a powerful spirit, almost corporeal and Edda would've gulped had she still been able to.

"You find our argument amusing, soldier?" he growled out, his voice like rusty iron on stone.

"No, sir." both Edda and her fellow guard said.

His face turned into an even fiercer scowl. "That will be enough for tonight, guards. You," he pointed at her comrade "check the dungeons."

Edda cringed at the thought. The dungeons were where the hags had made camp and those beasts were anything but nice company.

"You, " he turned to Edda "patrol along the perimeter. Dismissed."

Edda made haste to get away from the Captain before the old roman could think of something nastier than patrolling along celtic ritual sites. True, they were full of traps for spirits like her, but it was a far shot from being stuck with hags discussing the best wine that goes with eating infants.

She started at the perimeter straight from the door of the mansion. It was a beautiful sight, the alps and the lake at the foot of the mountains. She remembered that her father had once been invited to travel to someplace around here, but the name of the place eluded her. It had been too long and even the face of her father was but a blur in her memories at this point. However, seeing the mountains made her remember his voice as he told her about his travels through the lands, in service of his majesty the Emperor.

Edda went along the very edge of the perimeter. There were potent wards in place, starting from Muggle-repellent to ancient wards that would expel a phoenix trying to flash into the mansion. She had been a muggle before her death, but even she could appreciate the fortification of the place. With those wards, checking the perimeter was just as useful as standing guard. It showed that the Varangian Guard was here, present and ready to fight. It also kept the rowdy guests of the mansion in check.

They were still not corporeal, even though with each hour close to the Countess, their bodies took on a more solid form. Their spears and swords, however, already hurt - a lot. She smiled as she remembered knocking a vampire over the head because he mocked the "little poltergeists". She never knew vampires could be unconscious.

After a while of patrolling and wallowing in recent memories, she came to the edge of the old forest that hid the ritualistic clearings and springs from prying eyes. It was wild and the trees probably never saw any woodworkers. Dead trees rotted on the ground, giving nutrition to new seeds and housing to vermin. The bushes were thick, green and almost like walls protecting the fauna from the outside world. It was the most interesting part of her patrol, even though it was also the most dangerous for her.

The High Priestess had her many places of worship in there. They were littered with all kinds of trinkets and charms to catch spirits of nature. Unfortunately those trinkets would also work on her if she strayed too close to them.

But even though it was dangerous it was no less beautiful. The sites had a glow around them, telling of the many rituals that had taken place there. The grass seemed greener, the bushes thicker, the trees mightier around the stone circles in the clearings. Runes on them shone in weak white light, resembling the silver of the moon and the white of snow. It was the most magical place Edda has ever seen and it was ever so hard for her not to fall prey to the spirit traps.

"It would be way too embarrassing to be freed from them by some Priestess." That thought kept her from trying how close she could get.

She took her time walking through the mystical woods. She had heard so much about magic throughout her service, but actually seeing some of its beauty kept taking her proverbial breath away.

It was at the very edge of this forest that she took a double take. Something had moved in the bushes and it sure as hell wasn't small enough to be a rodent or any animal allowed within the perimeter.

Edda quickly took cover behind a tree. Sometimes it was an advantage to be incorporeal as she slipped through the trees bark and wood to look at the forest from within it.

"What are they doing here?" she thought as she spied long, elegant spears in the dark. She would know these designs anywhere. Often enough she had seen them as those creatures ventured inside Varangian territory to startle the alarms and then be gone. Just then the silhouette of a mighty centaur came from behind a bush, walking up and down the invisible line of the perimeter like a caged animal.

"Won kummts?" she heard the centaur hiss at someone she couldn't see.

"I woas ned, oba mia san ned auf da Flucht." another voice hissed back. Edda cursed herself for not paying attention to the heavy austrian dialect spoken in the mansion. Her German was nowhere near as solid enough to make out what the figures said and now some practice would work wonders. All she knew was that no centaur had any business being here.

Edda decided to keep waiting. If it was just one centaur and his comrade, a full out alarm would be overkill and would merely shoo him away. Catching them would be much more beneficial. Maybe the commander would even let her use some tricks she learned from the SS officers?

"Da Bluadmond muas sterbn. 'S ko ned sei das ia so long brauchts." the centaur whispered while he still walked up and down the edge of the wards.

"Heast nua di Rua. Sie wirds scho riachn. Und wenns donn do is, donn is hi."

Edda saw the second figure wave around a small stone in its hand. It glowed slightly. Then the figure circled a stick around it - a wand! The centaurs had support from wizards.

Wizards and witches were another thing entirely for her. Edda grinned as she prepared for one of the more advanced techniques that come with being a spectre. Possessing the wizard and capturing the centaur would certainly be worth a promotion.

***Countess***

Hermione kept standing at the balcony. She couldn't sleep during the night, but anything else held no entertainment for her, no sense or purpose. Books on magic lost their charm. She had come to the conclusion that there was a distinct difference between casting a spell and wielding magic. The spell required parameters, skill and technique. Wielding it was a primal, instinctive method of magic. She wanted it and it happened. It was like enslaving magic, opposed to directing it. It made her feel powerful, but it also made her grief over all the wasted hours of waving her wand to get to the right movements.

She didn't have to train herself to perfection. According to the Priestess, she was perfection.

Hermione did scoff at that when Königsberg told her and she did so now when she thought back to that particular discussion. Perfection was indeed in the eye of the observer.

But all of that was but a wisp in the back of her mind with which she tried to keep her thoughts off of the unimaginable hunger she felt. It was more than just the lust for blood or flesh. She wanted another soul. She craved it so much, her mind screamed for it. Everything smelled like it. The sheets the servants touched smelled like the soul of the girl. The withered flowers had the scent of many people's souls on them.

Hermione tried to quench her lust for souls for another night. It disgusted her, to think that she was nothing more than a glorified dementor. What would sucking the soul out of a living being be like? The stone was dead, but the soul in it very much suffered when she consumed it. Hermione remembered liking it, the suffering.

Up and down the balcony she walked, her arms close around her and her claws digging into her own sides so that a bit of pain may distract her from the hunger.

It was to no avail. There it was, the sweet smell of soul, coming from the forest. She couldn't hold it any longer. She had to have it, taste it, feel it in her stomach being devoured.

Hermione jumped from the balcony, uncaring if she may sound some alarm. The smell came from the dense forest in the east, where she often saw the Priestess vanish to for her prayer. With quick steps she ran over the wet grass. Her feet made no sound and just after a few seconds she vanished by simply ordering the moonlight to hide her.

Soon she reached the edge of the forest. She could feel the magic of the rituals curse through the many roots of the threes. Every single one of the trees was alive - some would even argue that they were sentient. In another life, Hermione would have spent weeks researching them, but right now they were but a fleeting afterthought.

She stalked through the dense bushes, always following the scent of the soul. It was the same smell she got from the stone. The scent of a trapped soul, ready for her to consume. As she danced silently around the bushes, over roots and fallen trees, Hermione mused that maybe Königsberg was trying something else to get her out of her room. She had failed, Remus had failed, so it would not be too much of a stretch to think that the lure of a soul would get her to finally come out of her room.

Hunger silenced those thoughts, though. Hunger and the distinct feeling of having left the wards of the mansion.

There was also the smell of centaur in the air.

***Countess***

Edda was about to possess the wizard when she heard rustling from behind her. It came from the mansion and had she not been trained to hear even the faintest of movements at the danube swamps, she would have missed it completely, so silent was the movement.

She turned her head, but couldn't see much in the direction of the noise. There were only single twigs bending and some dead leaves falling from bushes that told of the invisible body moving through the forest. Given what she knew, Edda figured it was one of the vampires in the mansion who also picked up on the presence of the centaur and wizard.

Edda stretched out her mind and let tendrils of herself caress the mind of the wizard. It was a well protected mind, with strong occlumency. The wizard was no slouch. But she was a Keres, a vengeful spirit and some occlumency wasn't enough to keep her out, should she brute force herself into him. It was this tendril, this connection that told her of the step-by-step retreat. Whatever they were hoping to catch with their lure, they had it.

***Countess***

Hermione growled as she felt the soul walking away from her. At this point it was prey and she was the predator. She was far past the point of hunger overwhelming her. She had tunnel vision, snapped onto the direction of the soul with pinpoint accuracy.

She felt her muscles tense, her knees bow and her magic soar through the air. Like the crack of a bullet sounded the roots she broke as she jumped up into the air, flying through the twigs and leaves. There it was! The stone was held in the hand of a terrified wizard.

The earth shook with the impact of her feet and the air was filled with the screams of the wizard as she jumped at him, claws stretched out and a roar sounding through the entire valley. The man screamed, but it was soon nothing more as gurgling. Her claws ripped into him and the first thing to go was his throat, soon followed by a swing that took his upper body off. Blood from the artery sprayed over the forest floor and Hermione enjoyed the feeling of the warm liquid on her skin. However, all blood and flesh was second to the stone that lay on the floor next to the human goo that was once the wizard.

Hermione bowed down to it. She picked it up as if it was a delicate piece of porcelain. The soul in it was weaker than the one she had tasted in the mansion, but it made no difference. The air began to freeze and her breath formed small clouds in the icy atmosphere. She could already feel the soul panic. It knew it was about to be devoured.

She sucked in and all around her the bloom and foliage died. Pieces of the soul came out of the stone, with small tendrils she could latch onto with her next intake of breath.

Her lungs prepared. The anticipation for the coming was so strong in her, she almost burst in ecstasy. She sucked in and then…

Thuck

The soul wasn't being sucked in and her breath stopped. Hermione let the stone fall to the ground and with it, her gaze wandered down.

She marveled at the sight before her and the old and well known sensation of pain. There in her belly a spear was stuck. It went deep, the grip of the spear almost touching her skin. She grabbed the spear and wanted to pull it out, but then, with great force, another spear flew through the night.

She screamed and roared as the spear went through her shoulder. Her bones shattered from the impact and she couldn't move her right arm anymore. She tried to stand, but another spear, coming from a different angle, shattered her left leg.

Hermione fell to her side. The pain was numbing and when she looked down to her belly, she saw white magic burning her from the inside. Like veins the magic fought its way through her undead body. She could do nothing more than scream.

Scream and look at the centaur that trampled towards her, a spear in his hand, pointed right at her face.

"STIIIIRB!" the centaur shouted as his hooves shook the earth. "Stirb, Fäulnis!" he shouted again.

Despite herself, Hermione gave a choked laugh. She had felt so powerful, so indestructible and now she saw death in the eye in the form of a lowly centaur. It was shameful on one side, but she couldn't bring herself to moan her own impending death. The only regret she had in her mind were the many things left unsaid. She would've liked to talk with Harry, at least once.

With the image of her first true friend in her mind she watched on as the centaur broke through bushes and twigs with his mighty body. He moved as if in slow motion, and his hooves sounded like hammer on an anvil every time they hit the earth.

The centaur roared, lifted his spear and was about to throw it, when suddenly something akin to lightning made the forest flash in blue and white. The next moment, the centaur fell, in his chest a hole the size of a bludger. His body hit the earth like a doll, boneless and dead.

"Your Majesty!" someone shouted from behind her. "Your Majesty!" came again, just before one of the most dangerous looking spirits Hermione had ever seen knelt down next to her.

***Countess***

Edda was sure she would have vomited from the sheer pain she was in. One moment she was in the process of possessing the wizard and in the next, the guy was shishkebab.

Rule Number One of possession is to be out of any dying mind. She remembered her instructor tell her. The pain was blinding and she was glad she hadn't been so far into the possession that her mind would take lasting damage.

Her mind was goo and for a few seconds, her own name eluded her. She fell to her knees, clutching her head and trying to pull herself together. She heard muffled screams that seemed far away, but she couldn't even scream herself.

With all the power she had left she stood back up. "Alright, Edda, come on, focus." she hissed to herself. Slowly creeping, the thought came to her that whatever tore into that wizard may or may not be dangerous to her as well. She summoned her spear and halted as it came into her hand. It felt odd, almost like actual steel.

She tried a step and stumbled. Her balance was completely off and she fell down again. She was annoyed at first, as she noted to herself that she met a new low in her undead existence. Then she felt the earth under her hands, the wetness of the soil, the rocks, needles and bark running over her, just as if she had her skin back.

She looked at her spear. It glowed with a blue hue, with grey and white mist coming from her hand. She knew that feeling and she knew the look of her skin. She had killed SS officers looking like this and made them kill their own families while the same, greyish mist came from her skin.

She felt it, deep inside her, the rage that was once her weapon to wield, cursing through her.

With one quick move she was up again. She was taller, her muscles looked stronger and her hair swirled behind her. It took all her willpower to keep her senses and focus on the here and now. The dead wizard still lay not ten meters from her in a bloody bulp and right beside it another figure that made her proverbial heart skip a beat.

"The Countess!" she hissed. "Goddamnit, the centaurs!"

With a mighty leap she jumped over the bushes. The girl had two long, wooden spears through her that seemed to burn her with some sort of magic. Any lesser being would have been dead by now, but the Countess stood up, just to be felled by another spear.

It was a female centaur, standing in a pillar of moonlight right to her left. With a wail not unlike a banshee's she shot her spear at the half-human. It felt just so right when it left her hand, and so powerful as her own magic sent the spear flying with deadly precision. At impact the spear detonated in blue and white sparks, followed by bone and brain from the female centaur's skull.

She felt him before she heard him, the centaur behind her. She turned, dodged the spear thrusted at her, and used her now clawed hand to rip the belly of the centaur open. Blood and intestines flew through her as she grasped the centaurs spear. The blessed wooden spear burnt her hand, but she didn't have to use it for long. With one swift motion she sent it flying through the night, roughly to where she saw another stallion silhouette. The crunch and scream that ensured when she hit her mark made her grin.

"Shahshok!" she bellowed and from the mist around her formed a new spear. She heard the hooves of another centaur like thunder on the soil. He shouted a mighty battle cry and was about to send his spear into the Countess' head.

"No!" Edda screamed and as if shot by a balliste, her spear ripped through the last centaur. Like a lifeless sack the powerful creature collided with the earth. He was a monster of a centaur and his sheer weight made the earth tremble as he hit the ground.

She only took a moment to enjoy her victory before the body before her took her back to reality. "Your Majesty!"

With only two long leaps she was at the side of the downed Bloodmoon. Edda hadn't seen the girl before, but the sheer power she radiated even in this wounded state left no doubt in her mind. "Your Majesty!" she said once again, hoping to get some sort of reaction from her. Edda felt how the magic of the Countess gave her strength. The headache was gone and even the slight vertigo from the failed possession left Edda. But she also felt that energy fainting, ever so slowly.

Edda didn't know what to do. The spears were deep in her liege and ate away at her. She tried to pull, but they were stuck. "Think, Edda, think, think!" she mumbled, while she searched around her for any solution.

It struck her when she saw the small, blue stone next to a severed, human hand. Quickly she grabbed the stone and held it close to the Countess' mouth. "Eat, your majesty!" she begged, hoping that she did the right thing.

***Countess***

Her shock over the fearful looking spirit was soon gone, replaced by the slight amusement Hermione felt when she saw such a brutal looking spectre sputtering and panicking like a little girl. The spirit tried to pull on the spears, and Hermione winced at the pain of the wood inside her organs. It was like roots slowly growing inside of her, eating away on her undead flesh. They were stuck and even the spectres desperate tries changed nothing about that.

Then the spectre stopped and looked behind Hermione. With one grab she pulled something from there and the next moment, Hermione had the now faint smell of soul in front of her.

"Eat, your majesty!" The spectre's voice was pleading and whimpering. Hermione figured that the Countess dying during one's shift wouldn't look good on the resumè for the next dark creature job. However, her tone aside, Hermione was forever grateful to the spirit.

She took a deep breath and saw the small weeds and saplings around her die from frost. Another desperate intake of breath and she had the first tendril of the soul in her mouth. She already felt the panic of the soul, the feeling of helplessness and it took just another sharp breath to suck it from the stone in her mouth. She gulped and let the soul wander down her body. Even through the pain, the feeling of having eaten gave her a short moment of peace.

Then she felt her power return. It was not much, as the soul was rather small, but it did wonders to get her going. First she focused her magic on the spear in her shoulder. She heard the wood already inside her cracking. Her own magic burned against the white light and the roots inside of her. It was like burning through thick, hard wood, but it worked and Hermione began to feel her arm again. Eventually the spear became covered in black streaks as the wood cracked and charred. Splinters fell away from it and inside the wood one could see a raging fire burn through its very core.

Her arm was soon free and then the process accelerated. With her claws she could cut the spears easily. First she removed the spear from her leg. It burned away like the first, just quicker and more complete. Then she stood up and with both hands she grasped the last spear that went through her belly and pushed a great wave of magic through it. The spear disintegrated into small flakes of charcoal.

Hermione then healed the wounds. The holes closed quickly enough, but deep, white scars in patterns looking like roots were left behind on her skin. She felt how those refused to be covered by her magic, so she let them be, for now. There were more urgent things to do than cosmetics.

She looked down on the now kneeling spirit. The female warrior was a sight to behold. Her hair was white as snow and swirled behind her head as if moved by a storm. Her eyes were of the deepest black and her body was somewhere between corporeal and ghostlike ectoplasm. Magic streamed from her in the form of a fine, white and grey mist that spoke of her brutal power.

"Your name?" Hermione asked.

The spirit gulped. It made Hermione smirk with the thought that she wasn't the only one that didn't completely let go of some mannerisms. "My name is Edda, your majesty. I'm a footsoldier of the Varangian Guard." the spirit said.

"The Chieftess has told me that the Varangian Guard are supposed to be my most loyal."

"We are, your majesty. Once you called, we wasted no time and came right away."

Hermione nodded as she had heard that much already. Ute von Königsberg had made it abundantly clear that the Guard would be the ones most loyal to her. Hermione felt grateful. Now she would have the chance to talk with those she left behind. No matter what they would say, she could at least live on without the uncertainty.

"You saved my life," Hermione said in almost a whisper. "Is there something you wish for? Anything I am able to grant, I will."

"I have only done my duty." Edda answered, bowing even deeper.

Hermione nodded, having expected some answer like that. "Thank you." she said to the spirit.

"I live to serve." Edda answered. She stood up, a tired smile on her face. "And yes, I'm well aware of the irony."

Silence followed that statement. Hermione looked at Edda and she grinned back until Hermione burst out laughing. She chuckled, holding her belly and mouth. Edda tried hard to remain stoic, as a soldier should, but the giggles of the Countess, sounding cheerful and creepy at the same time, eventually got herself chuckling.

"Thats one of the oldest jokes of the Guard." She grinned at Hermione.

"I haven't really… Let's just say I needed a laugh. The last days were…" Hermione stopped when she felt magic. It soared towards them. She raised her arm and with a thought alone, a pulse of her own magic flew against it. Splinters rained down at them. Edda barely dodged a spear-tip.

"We should go, your majesty." Edda said. Hermione admired the way in which the spirit immediately moved to guard her with her own body, but the Countess had other plans. It lingered in the air, the scent of desperation and anger. It had been a long time since she smelled such a aroma; the last time in London fighting an old wizard.

"Watch my back, Edda." Hermione whispered to the ghost.

"What are you…?" Edda tried to hold her back, but the slim fingers of the spectre had no chance of holding Hermione. She leaped into the treetops, where she would be hidden. She quickly asserted the situation. Two wizards and one centaur were left, all of them high on adrenalin and filled to the brim with fear, yet they did not run. She grinned and with slow moves stalked towards them.

The female centaur stood in the center of a clearing, bow at the ready. Every sound made her twitch and at every rustle of leaves made her draw. Right next to her were two wizards in purple robes. One of them, the younger one, was paralyzed in fear. The older one seemed more collected, but Hermione sensed his heart beating fast. She decided then and there to go for the younger one. The centauress and the older man would suffice to satisfy her curiosity. Someone had sent them, someone has had a plan to lure her out and she would know who.

Through the leaves of the tree she sat on, she sent two stunner towards them. They reacted fast, she had to give them that, but not fast enough. The old wizard and the centauress fell, stunned. The young wizard answered with a barrage of desperate spells. Red, blue and yellow spells flew into the tree, but Hermione was long gone. She had apparated behind the boy and amused herself with his frantic spellcasting. When he was done, the tree was devoid of leaves and charmed pink and his panic at not seeing anything come from it made Hermione grin with devilish delight.

"WO BIST?!" he screamed "ZOAG DI!"

"Boo!" she mocked and almost fell over laughing when the boy jumped. With a quick twist of her ankle she summoned his wand. Barely a thought later, the wand was no longer more than strands and the unicorn hair core.

She jumped at him. Her knee hit his stomach and her claws pinned his throat down to the ground. He tried to scream, but nothing more than a weak gurgle came from his mouth. He looked so appetizing, but Hermione could hold herself back for just another moment. She looked into his eyes, blood-red meeting pale green and delved into his mind.

His name was Hannes Gruber, 24 years old and barely out of Auror Academy. He had been a Durmstrang student, average in almost all classes except Charms, and was about to marry. Hermione fed his mind pictures of the ambush and his brain provided her with pictures of his morning. They had gotten a tip from the centaurs and local wizards. His corps was deployed and they had met up with the Hallstatt Herd's warriors. She saw the intimidation the boy had felt when he looked upon the mighty centaur that now had a hole through his body, courtesy of Edda. She also saw his horror at the sight of the spectre and the despair he felt when his corps-leader denied the retreat because he thought Hermione weakened and dying. However, ultimately he was only a low grunt, who happened to have pulled Fate's short straw this morning.

She left his mind, but went even closer to him. She had no more use for him, so his last purpose was to serve as food. Hermione didn't waste any time. She moved close and kissed the boy. He tried to struggle, but her claws dug into his throat whenever he so much as twitched a muscle. She sucked and was surprised at how easily the soul came. There was almost no resistance, even though the sheer panic of the soul and the man were a completely new experience.

If the souls in the stones were afraid of being eaten, the soul of the man was in all out panic. The tendrils of the soul tried to hold on and magic discharged from his hands and skin. It prickled over her as if she was grabbing a weak electric line.

Despite the souls efforts, it glided out of the man and into her mouth. One last intake of breath and it went down her stomach to be devoured with the other soul. Hermione closed her eyes and savored the amazing feeling everywhere in her body. It came to her that it was the first time since her turning that she felt so sated. Two souls in one night and her hunger was gone, completely. Just now she realized how fogged her mind was.

She made a mental note about that, but focused on the task at hand for now. The centauress and the old Auror had to be dealt with. With a wave of her hand she shot ropes at the wizard and bound him. She did the same to the centauress. The ropes connected with the ground and pinned the mighty creature down.

With a Ennervate she woke the centauress. The rich, brown eyes of her looked disoriented until they fell onto Hermione. Then they focused and stared with fear and loathing at Hermione.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, undisturbed by the hate she felt in the centauress. The half-human just stared back at her with the same fierce scowl.

"I don't think she understands." came the voice of Edda from behind Hermione.

"Yes, I doubt centaurs are big on secondary languages."

"Lass mi gehn! FÄULNIS!" The centauress shouted at Hermione and spit in her direction. Before she could do anything, the blunt side of Edda's spear smacked the centauress hard against the ribs.

"Halte dein Mund!" Edda said. She turned to Hermione who just smiled at the spirit with a questioning look.

"She called you a 'corruption', your majesty." Edda explained. "Given who you are to us, I took that as a personal insult."

"What am I to you, exactly?" Hermione asked. "I never really got a clear answer to that. It's always 'You are the Bloodmoon' or something like that. What am I to you, in your words?"

Edda looked back at the still crouching Countess. She kept silent for a few seconds, thinking about what to say. However, the answer was as simple as it was meaningful to the spectre.

"Purpose, your majesty." she said. "To us you are purpose. Guarding you, fighting for you, gives us duty and honor. I'm just a simple woman, so maybe that answer is too easy. Maybe you should ask the commander?"

"No," Hermione stood up. Her gaze didn't leave the centauress who still leered hateful up at her. "No, I think that answer is the first good one I got." With a flick of her wrist she stunned the centauress again and with a wave, she levitated both her and the wizard. "We should give those to someone who can speak German. I need to know who they work for and I don't dare go into their mind, lest I destroy it. Veritaserum would be better."

"I'll see to it, your majesty."

They barely left the clearing when they heard voices shouting through the night. They came closer at a rapid pace. Edda was preparing her spear, ready to throw, but Hermione held her arm down. "Those are our guys."

Just as she said that, a vampire came running through the bushes. He looked as if he had been pulled straight from the bed with his outfit that merely consisted of jeans and a tank-top. A smile of relief was on his face when he saw them. With a quick spell he shot green spark in the sky, before he bowed deep before Hermione. "Your majesty, we were worried."

"Why so?" Hermione said, while she smiled at Edda. "I was merely out for a snack."

They walked back to the mansion. On the way Hermione gathered more and more people around her. She wagered a guess that close to the entire mansion was on their feet because of her. It took them about half an hour to get back to the mansion.

Saying the mansion was busy wouldn't do it justice. People ran around like they were hunted. Important looking people barked orders and shouted at each other while in the middle of it all Ute von Königsberg stood silent with a small council of different people. Lupin was by her side, keeping lower wolves from disturbing the Chieftess. It all came to a grinding halt when Hermione walked into the entry hall, with Edda on her side and the wizard and centauress floating behind her.

"Your majesty!" the Chieftess quickly freed herself from the people around her and came running to Hermione. Anyone else and she would've torn their arms out, but the touch of the Chieftess on her cheeks was a welcome gesture for Hermione.

"Are you hurt?" the Chieftess asked while she touched the scars left from the spears.

"No, I'm well. But I was reckless." It was embarrassing for Hermione and she couldn't quite meet the eyes of the Chieftess. "My hunger drove me. They lured me out with a soulstone like the one you gave me. If Edda here hadn't been around…" Hermione gestured at the spectre who had been pulled aside by what seemed to be some of her superiors. "If she hadn't come to my aid, I would've been done for."

The Chieftess looked as if she was about to shout at her. Hermione would've understood, but then again, neither of the two wanted any more of a scene. "Let's go to our private quarters. Our two guests will be brought to the dungeons."

Hermione nodded and let the two stunned prisoners drop on the floor. They were dragged over the marble floor, down the stairs to the cellar where the entry to the dungeons was. The Chieftess took the stairs up to the first level, with Hermione close after her. Soon the noise of the entry hall became only a murmuring sound in the distance as they walked through several layered silencing charms. The hallway led close to her own bedchamber, but a few doors before that, the Chieftess took a turn into the lounge.

It was a comfortable room, with brown leather couches and an velvet armchair. Hermione let herself fall into the soft fabric of the chair and let out a loud sigh. The excitement left her with the air from her lungs. She closed her eyes. Finally, she thought, there was some clarity in her mind. She let the memories of the night run through her mind and just now she realized what a blur it all was before she had eaten.

"What am I to do with you, Hermione?" The Chieftess had taken a seat right in front of her on the brown leather couch. Next to her on the table stood a tumbler full of clear liquid that smelled like the strong schnaps that seemed to be so typical for the region. "When the alarm went off and you weren't in your room, I feared the worst."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean 'why'?" the Chieftess took her glass and sipped at the strong alcohol. "You are my Queen. I am..."

"But why am I your Queen? Why am I so important to so many different people? Why do people like you, leader of powerful magical Empires, bow to me?" Hermione had stood up from the armchair and was no pacing through the room. Her claws tapped on her lower arms scales like a clockwork.

"You are the Bloodmoon, the Countess." the Chieftess answered with a face as if Hermione had just asked her if the sky was blue.

"But what does that mean?" Hermione countered. "You say this as if it should mean something to me, when it doesn't." She fell down onto the armchair again. Hermione's head hung low and it took her a fortifying breath to keep from yelling. "Then again," she continued, "I haven't been very interested in it either. Probably because it all was such a blur."

"What changed?" The Chieftess had put her glass down and was leaning forward to Hermione.

"I had my first living soul today."

"One of the wizards?"

"Yes," she answered "the youngest of the three. It was so easy. My head became so clear afterwards."

The Chieftess nodded, she gestured Hermione to continue and already sat on the edge of the couch.

"When the centaurs got me with their spears I thought about a few things. Things I would leave behind when whatever magic they had on those things was done eating me up."

"What are those things?"

Hermione just shook her head, despite the pleading look on the Chieftess face. "Not yet. I want to sleep about it; think further on it before I decide. All I have right now are three request."

"Anything, just tell me what you need." The Chieftess said, eager to please Hermione.

"The first; I need parchment, ink and an owl for a letter. I have left behind someone and I need to write to him."

"Your majesty,... Hermione, contact to the outside world could be dangerous."

"I must write to him." Hermione shot the Chieftess a sharp look. She would not be denied. "I must know where we stand, if he is alright. Deliver it however you deem safe, but I need this letter and the answer delivered."

The Chieftess sighed and rubbed her chin in thought. "I think I can arrange safe communication. It's a hassle, but if this letter is really so important…"

"It is."

"Very well then," the Chieftess took a piece of parchment from the table and wrote a quick note on it. "The second request?"

"I want to decide my guard."

"That can be arranged. Honestly, I look forward to put an end to that constant bickering. What is your third request?"

There was a small smile on Hermione as she glanced at the eager eyes of the Chieftess. She had forgotten about it, just as much as she had nearly forgotten herself. Countess or not, she was Hermione Granger. If a problem arose, there was but one solution.

"I need absolutely every book in existence about the Bloodmoon and all those who follow me."

***Countess***

Edda sat in what she felt was probably the hundredth interrogation by whomever deemed himself important enough to talk down to her. It had started with Captain Cladius and ended with some old hag that for some reason was mightily offended by having a centauress imprisoned in her potion lab.

She was currently sitting through an earful from a czech vampire and at that point she truly mulled over how a spirit could commit suicide. It was a tough order, but a few more of these idiots talking down on her and she would give anything to end it.

Like her prayer was heard, the High Priestess Königsberg walked into the room, silencing everyone with her presence alone. However, Edda's cheer was short lived as she saw that the werewolve leader was headed her way. She was about to say something, but the Chieftess held up her hand, effectively silencing her.

"You are Edda?" she asked. The entire room was listening.

"Yes, High Priestess." Edda answered.

"You left quite the impression with the Countess." she said. Edda was unsure if she liked the smile the werewolve wore.

"I did my duty." Edda said, making several people in the room scoff. "My liege was in danger and I stopped the attackers. Anyone here would have done the same."

"Ja… but not everybody did, now did they?" The Chieftess smiled. "Which is why it is you, and not anybody else, who was chosen by the Countess to man her personal Guard. You will report at sunset at the Countess' lounge. Speak with . He will show you your new quarters."

With that the Chieftess left a stunned Edda standing in the middle of the hall. She waited until the High Priestess had left the room before she started to jump around the hall and up the stairs towards the Countess' quarters, whooping and flipping the bird to the czech vampire.

Translations:

"Won kummts?" - "When does she arrive?"

"I woas ned, oba mia san ned auf da Flucht." - "I don't know, but we aren't in a hurry."

"Da Bluadmond muas sterbn. 'S ko ned sei das ia so long brauchts." - "The Bloodmoon must die. It's intolerable that you would take that long!"

"Heast nua di Rua. Sie wirds scho riachn. Und wenns donn do is, donn is hi." - "Listen, just stay calm. She is going to smell it. When she comes, she's going to die."

"STIIIIRB!" - "DIIIE!"

"Stirb, Fäulnis!" - "Die, Corruption!"

"WO BIST?!" he screamed "ZOAG DI!" - "Where are you?!" "Show yourself!"

Thank you all for reading. Now that my masters degree is ⅓ done, my schedule allows for more writing. The Salem Settlement will get the next update after this, then follows another for The Art and Craft of Necromancy.

I know there is a lot of German in this chapter. Please tell me if you think its too much.

Anyway, fav and review and all that fuzz. You know the drill.

Hail Cthulhu!