The train rolled into King's Cross Station on Platform 9 ¾ and came to a jolty halt, startling Hermione awake. She had been drifting in and out of sleep for the better part of the ride. The added amount of input she'd received the past couple of days due to her heightened senses proofed to be quite exhausting.
She really hoped her body would return to normal soon.

"Are you coming?" She heard Harry ask and looked up at him, only now realising that she was the last one left in the compartment, her best friend halfway through the door himself already.

"Uh … yes. Of course," the brunette said and stood up, resulting in a slight head-rush, that she just blinked away. When she turned around to get her luggage, however, a wave of dizziness washed over her and she wavered dangerously. Harry closed the distance between them almost instantaneously and wrapped his arms around her to hold her up.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concern clear in his voice.

"Yes. Yes. It's nothing," Hermione assured him, while still leaning on him for support, "I'm just …"
She sighed, fatigued.
"… tired. After everything that happened …" She snuggled into Harry's embrace a little, closing her eyes and sighing again, "I think I just need some rest, you know?"

"I understand," he said with compassion and gave her a short squeeze.

The girl returned the gesture and smiled. Because Harry actually did understand. After all he had been through in the last couple of years, she felt that he was the only one who possibly could understand how she felt right now. And that gave her comfort.

"I'm fine now," Hermione announced after a few more seconds of blissful cuddling, regretfully breaking away from her best friend's warm embrace, "thank you."

"Any time," he replied with a smile, got her trunk down from the luggage rack and led the way out of the compartment.

They got off the train, where Hermione immediately requested to pull her own weight, and, after getting the clear, walked through the magical barrier that separated Platform 9 ¾ from the rest of King's Cross Station, where she was treated to a truly magnificent sight.
Almost the entire Order of the Phoenix was there to greet them, or rather to greet Harry, Sirius above all others.

Harry didn't waste a second and ran to his godfather to hug him tightly, both laughing with joy. Hermione beamed at the lovely display. She was so immensely happy for them. Now, with Sirius cleared of all charges, they could finally be a family.
Speaking of which, at that very moment she spotted her own out of the corner of her eyes and rushed over to them, still smiling brightly.

"Mom. Dad," she greeted her parents and pulled them in a hearty embrace.

"Hello, sweetheart," they welcomed her and returned the gesture, "we missed you so much."

"I missed you, too."

"How are you feeling," her mother pressed on, cupping her face, "Professor Dumbledore wrote us a letter that you got in some kind of trouble."

Hermione's heart sank a little. She had hoped she wouldn't have to talk about that with her parents that soon.

"I'm … fine," she replied hesitantly, neither convincing her parents nor herself, "can we discuss this later? It's been a long day and I just need some rest."

"Of course, darling," her father said, smiling, "let's get you home."
Hermione gave a nod, waved and said her goodbyes to everyone and followed her parents out of the station and to the car, dozing off immediately after she had strapped in.

Arrived home Hermione rushed into her room and, not even bothering with unpacking or changing, fell into the bed to get her much needed rest.

The following days were also spent rather quietly. Hermione was mostly withdrawn to her room, trying to sleep off this overwhelming fatigue that had suddenly overtaken her. She had no idea where it had come from but her guess was, that it had something to do with her body fighting off the vampire venom.

Luckily, her parents, although frequently asking about what had happened, gave her enough time and space to rest and recover. That also won her some extra time to mentally prepare for the coming conversation. So, finally feeling ready after a full week of lazing about, she descended the stairs to the living room, where her parents were watching TV.

"Mom, Dad?"

"Hey, sweetheart," her father greeted her with a smile, "are you feeling better?"

"Much better," she answered and plopped down on the armchair standing at a right angle to the sofa her parents were sitting on.

"That's good to hear," her mother chimed in, also smiling graciously, but turned a little more serious with her next words, "so, are you ready to talk about what happened to you?"

She was. The last few days she not only took to rest and recover but also to figure out what to tell her parents, or rather, how much of the truth she wanted to reveal to them. But for that she needed one more piece of information.

"What exactly did Dumbledore tell you?"

Her parents shared a brief look before her mother answered, "He wrote us that you were injured and hospitalised, but in no mortal danger."

A little smile tucked at Hermione's lips. That was just like Dumbledore, only providing a vague explanation to give her the freedom to decide herself what to say.
She leaned back in her chair and touched her neck where Bellatrix had bitten her.
Straight to the point was the best course of action here, she mused.

"I …" she started, leaned forward again and looked sincerely at her parents, smiling wryly, "… was bitten by a vampire."

Dumbstruck by that revelation, her parents just stared at her, wide-eyed, their faces pallid. They shared a quick uncertain glance, before concentrating on their daughter again.
Hermione couldn't really make much out of the perplexed looks they were giving her. So, she just quietly waited for the information to sink in.

"Wow, that's …" her father found his voice again first but stopped short and leaned back, exhaling soundly. He scratched his head and bent forward again, "I mean, we know you are part of this fantastical world we know next to nothing about, but, honestly, to this very moment it would have never occurred to me that vampires could actually be real." He chuckled mirthlessly.

"So, are you alright?" her mother took over, concern deeply edged into her features, "we've read the books and seen the movies. Are you …?" She left the rest unsaid, probably too afraid to voice her fear.

Hermione smiled reassuringly.
"No, don't worry."
She took her mother's hand and squeezed it gently.
"I'm not a vampire and I am not going to be one."

Relieve came instantly over both her parents and they visibly relaxed, all the tension gone from their bodies.

"Thank goodness," her mother breathed and put one hand to her heart, "I honestly don't know what we would've done if you were."

"We wouldn't have loved you any less, of course," Mr. Granger immediately jumped in, "you are our sweet little genius, after all."
Hermione blushed a little.
"But it would have certainly been odd and quite a bit to get used to," he continued, chuckling awkwardly, "however, I'm sure we would've managed."

Hermione of course had never doubted that her parents wouldn't turn their backs on her if she had become a vampire, but hearing them say it out loud like this gave her the reassurance she had longed for within her heart.
With teary eyes she stood up from her chair and pulled her parents into an embrace.

"Thank you."

"Of course, sweetheart," her mom replied and cupped the girl's cheek when she retreated again, "and you are sure you are alright? You have been quite out of it for the last week."

"Yes, I'm feeling ok. That was just a side effect of the bite," Hermione explained and dove into a short rundown of what Dr. Strauss had told her back in Hogwarts. Including his request to check her blood, albeit not mentioning the actual purpose for the test. She felt it would just worry her parents more, if they knew, that Bellatrix had been specifically after her blood.

"Well, alright. It seems you've got everything under control," her father said cheerfully and stood up, "then we'll let you call your magic doctor and prepare dinner in the meantime."

"And I better make sure he doesn't hurt himself in there," her mother added with a smile and a nod towards the kitchen.

Hermione giggled a little and walked over to the phone. She pulled out the business-card, dialled the number printed on it and picked up the receiver.

For the third time now, Hermione checked the address written on Dr. Strauss' business-card she had received from the very kind sounding receptionist she had spoken to on the phone a few days prior. She still couldn't believe that this was supposed to be the right place.
Before her stood a rusty gate leading into some shady back alley. It was littered with old newspapers, soda cans and all sorts of different trash and other waste she didn't want to think too much about. Anyway, the atmosphere didn't exactly say sanitary doctor's office.

However, trying her best to ignore all the filth around her, she pushed the gate open and walked down the alley. After just a few steps she reached an equally soiled courtyard. The walls were smeared with graffiti and untasteful drawings. Only one space, the size of a door, was fairly clean; the sole word spelled out on the spot was "card-key".
Following the instructions, she'd gotten from the receptionist, Hermione held up the business-card to the wall. She heard the sound of a door unlocking before the wall sunk back and then swung open.

Hesitantly, she entered the passageway and found herself in a typical doctor's office. It had a quiet and sterile feel to it. A few paintings hung on the mostly plain white walls of the room. To her right was a waiting area with a low coffee table stacked with magazines, books and several newspapers. Two gentlemen were seated there; one had an unnaturally elongated neck and the other's right hand seemed to flicker in and out of existence, like a light bulb about to die out.

Behind the reception desk stood a tall woman, about 2 metres in height, with shiny black hair and wearing a beautiful yellow summer dress. She couldn't see her face since she had her back turned, fiddling with some documents, apparently trying to get them in order.

Hermione walked up to the counter and cleared her throat.

"Um … Excuse me?"

"Yes!" the receptionist exclaimed lively and spun around, almost knocking over the stack of documents she had so neatly organized just now.

Hermione was startled, not by the sudden move and yell, but by the receptionist's face. Even though she was very pretty; smooth jawline, high cheekbones, full lips curled into a bright smile and a cute snub nose; where there should have been a set of eyes, there only was one single giant eyeball, probably about the size of her fist, looking at her expectantly.

The girl was at a loss of words, only blatantly staring into that huge circle of a pupil, which was so clear, she could see her own reflection in it.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

The sudden question snapped her out of her trance.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I just … I …" she stuttered, blushing in embarrassment while trying not to gaze too much at the woman's eye.

She, however, put on the sweetest smile.
"It's a little unsettling, right? My eye, that is."

Hermione turned an even darker shade of red and hid her face in her hands.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to …"

"It is fine, Miss. I get this reaction a lot," she said in a pleasant tone and laughed a little, "after all, it's not every day you cross a cyclops' path."

Even though Hermione could clearly tell from her voice that there was absolutely no hostility in it and she actually meant what she said, it didn't help to ease her mind. She always boasted about how magical creatures should have more rights and be accepted into society, even going as far as to create S.P.E.W. to free the poor house elves of their slave labour. And yet, here she was, gawking at a cyclops like it was an animal on display in the zoo.

"I'll just sit down," she murmured meekly and turned around not looking at the receptionist.

"Um, Miss?" the tall woman stopped her, "you'll need to tell me what you are here for first."

"Oh, yes, of course."
Hermione turned back around and handed her the business-card, where also the date of her appointment was written on, all while avoiding eye contact.
"Hermione Granger. I have an appointment with Dr. Strauss."

"Ah, Miss Granger, yes. He's already awaiting you," she said brightly and gestured to follow her, "please come with me."

The cyclops led her down a hall to the very last door in the back, on which she knocked once and then opened it.
The doctor was sitting in a chair obviously playing a game on the computer placed on the desktop in front of him.

"Jonathan? Miss Granger is here to see you," the one-eyed woman announced her, whereupon he spun around with his chair, sporting a grin.

"Perfect. Come right in," he said cheerfully and waved her in.

Hermione was a little surprised by his vigour, since, from the one time she'd met him, she only knew him as tired and kind of annoyed, but followed his invitation and stepped inside. She turned to face the receptionist, this time looking her straight in the eye, and gave her a smile.
"Thank you very much …"

"Theresa," the cyclops finished her sentence and returned the smile before she left and closed the door behind her.

"Alright, then. Let's get this over with," Jonathan spoke kindly and gestured towards the examination table at the wall, "take a seat."

Hermione nodded at did as she was told. The adult came around his desk, dragging his chair along, and placed himself in front of her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"So, all the vampirism syndromes have died down?"

"Yes. After about two weeks and a lot of rest they were all gone."

"It's exhausting, isn't it?"
He grinned knowingly.

"Have you experienced it yourself?" she asked as he turned to grab a stethoscope from a nearby side table.

"I sure have. Several times, in fact."
He turned back to her, the hearing device now wrapped around his neck.
"Take your shirt off, please."

Hermione followed his order and undressed. She flinched a little when the cold metal plate of the stethoscope touched her skin.

After he had listened to her heart and lungs, he checked her eyes, ears, throat and blood pressure, before he told her to put her shirt back on and contently set the medical supplies aside.

"Ok, seems like your physical condition adds up to how you feel," he said and stood up to get a tray, that was sitting on his desk.
"Now, let's get me some blood."
He put the tablet down on the side table next to him and took a tourniquet in his hand.

"There are … quite a lot containers," Hermione noted haltingly and shot the physician a suspicious look.

"Well, yeah," Jonathan confirmed matter-of-factly, "I plan to run a series of tests, both medical and magical. So, I need plenty."
He leisurely gestured to the prepared glass tubes.
"Don't worry. You'll be fine," he assured and grabbed her left wrist.

"No." She exclaimed determined and retracted her hand.

The man only raised an eyebrow; a silent demand for her to explain herself.

"I still have questions and you promised answers," she stated resolutely, not shying away from his stare.

He took a deep breath while raising his other brow. Then, he groaned testily and threw his tourniquet back on the table.

"I guess I did say that."
He sighed resigned.
"Well, then," he leaned back in his chair and motioned her to take the floor, "shoot."

Excitement spread through Hermione like a wildfire. She had been eagerly awaiting this moment for the last few weeks. Finally, she would get some answers.
The girl took a calming breath and cleared her throat.

"Why is there so little information about vampires?"
Hermione leaned forward, hardly suppressed arousal radiating from her every pore.
"I browsed through almost the entire library at Hogwarts, but I couldn't find anything substantial. I only found rumours, myths and baseless assumptions; nothing you wouldn't also read in silly comic books. Why is that?"

"Well, first of all," Jonathan started with a little grin on his face, "not everything you read in comics is bullshit. There are some facts within the fiction."
"You'll never know which is which, of course. Vampires are very … private creatures, after all."

"But why?"

"Oh, you know, there is a long and violence-ridden history behind them that brought them to where they are today."
He leaned forward propping himself with his elbows on his knees.
"I mean, when you are the probably most feared and hated species on the planet, you don't want anyone to have a guide how to kill you, right?"

"Right," Hermione agreed and cast her eyes down in thought for a moment, "does that mean, the vampires got rid of everything people had gathered about them?"

"More or less," Jonathan confirmed vaguely and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Then, how do you know so much about them?" the young witch asked, haughtily crossing her arms and considered him with accusing eyes.

Again, he groaned displeased, obviously not fond of the memory.

"Patience, hard work and a lot of asskissing," he revealed and clicked his tongue, "seriously, it's aggravatingly tedious to befriend these suckers. And it's absolutely not worth it, trust me. So, don't get any ideas."

"What do you mean by that?" a surprised Hermione asked.

"Oh, don't give me that. Why else would you be that interested in vampires all of a sudden?"

"Be-Because I realized that I didn't know anything about them."

She tried to sound casual but failed miserably.

"Of course."
There was a clear sarcastic undertone in his voice.
"Or, perhaps, you were enjoying your encounter and would very much like to repeat it."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it, now? Then, I guess I am wrong in my assumption that you, when you think back to that particular night, feel more excited than afraid, correct?"

Hermione blushed a violent red.
As much as she wanted to confirm his statement, she couldn't.
It was true.
When she thought back to the night in the ministry, Bellatrix chasing and ultimately catching her, she did feel excited.
She couldn't really explain it herself, but whenever she remembered those piercing golden eyes and the fierce yet gentle bite to her neck, a wave of exhilaration rushed through her body.

Now it was her time to groan embarrassed and hide her reddened face in her palms.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it," she heard Jonathan's encouraging voice as he fatherly patted her knee, "it's only natural to want to know more about the things that scare you. 'Know thy enemy', as they say."

That didn't really cheer her up. She was curious, yes, and wanted to know more about vampires, sure, but that wasn't everything there was to it. What bothered her about this whole situation was that, even though the very thought of meeting Bellatrix again filled her with pure terror, she still yearned for it to happen, for the vampiress to, once more, wrap her arms around and sink her teeth into her. A tingle went down her spine at the thought and she sighed. These conflicted feelings were so confusing.

"Besides," the doctor tore her out of her thoughts, "you also might possibly still be affected by the aftermath of her hypnosis."

Hermione's head shot up, brows furrowed in question, "Hypnosis?"

"Yes. One of the more annoying skills vampires have. It's a natural ability every vampire possesses. By just simply looking into your eyes, they can impose their will on you."

Realization dawned on Hermione.
"So, that's why I always felt so calm and light-hearted whenever we locked eyes."

"Exactly. But, since Bellatrix is a novice in all things 'vampire', my bet is that she used her hypnosis instinctively rather than knowingly."
He stood up and walked over to his desk to get something out of his briefcase.
"Thus, I'm pretty sure she overdid it and the effects of her hypnosis still linger on."

Now that he said it, it kind of made sense to Hermione. Why else would she be this ecstatic and eager to see her again? Why else would she feel this excitement and longing to relive the sensation of Bellatrix sinking her teeth into her skin? Another pleasant shiver went down her spine.

"Usually, the technique is used for exactly what you experienced: To calm down the victim, prevent them from making a fuss, even making them think they want to be bitten," Jonathan, once again, brought her back to reality, as he was sitting back down in front of her, "but if trained or motivated enough, a vampire can take full control of someone's mind, practically enslaving them."

The girl turned an unhealthy pale colour.

"In your specific case, however, I assume Bellatrix just unknowingly implanted the desire to see her again into your thoughts."

He presented the item he had gathered from his suitcase. It looked like a pair of opera glasses, only with one end closed off.

"What is that?" Hermione asked warily.

"It's a device of my own design," he answered nonchalantly, "doesn't have a name but it will help you clear your mind."
He winked and held it towards her.

Hesitantly, she took it from him and, as you do with opera glasses, looked through them; or inside them, rather, since there was only one open end.
To her great surprise, instead of the dark nothingness she had expected to see, her eyes were treated to the magnificent sight of the solar system. The planetary bodies circled around the sun in slow and fluid motion, captivating, easing her into a trance-like state.

"Focus on the sun," she heard Dr. Strauss' soothing voice and directed all her attention to the single stationary object, "there will be a series of flashes momentarily. Don't retract or look away."

As on cue, the sun lit up and started pulsating a bright, white light in rapid succession. It stopped again about two seconds later and faded to black.
The device was pulled away from her and she immediately blinked a few times to clear her eyes.

"So, how do you feel about your encounter the other night now?"

Hermione was speechless.

Only until seconds ago, whenever Bellatrix had popped into her head, however afraid she might have felt, her fear had always been overshadowed by this mist of desire to be held by the dark witch again, to melt into her embrace, to have her lovingly tease her neck with those alluring fangs of hers.

But now that fog was lifted.

She remembered the events that had transpired clearly now, without distortion. She recalled exactly how terrified she had been, the golden eyes of the almost beast like vampiress and, of course, the dread and despair she had felt, when she was trapped by Bellatrix' gentle but firm grasp.

A smile graced her lips. Finally, she got her mind back. Finally, she could think clearly again.

But her joy should only be short-lived, as the rest of that dreadful night slowly came back to her.
The look of utter confusion in Bellatrix' eyes, after regaining her senses; the Dark Lord's cold voice and ghastly appearance; the cowering and trembling body of the vampiress as she was tortured, trying her hardest not to show in how much pain she really was.

But Hermione knew.
She had experienced the same anguish only shortly after.

A new feeling reared its head.
Pity.
For herself … and for Bellatrix.

"Are you ok? You went through, like, seven emotions in the past couple seconds," the concerned yet amused voice of Dr. Strauss caught her attention again.

"Uh, yes. It's just that I remember that night clearly for the first time," she said and smiled at him, "thank you for that."

"No problem."
He comfortably leaned back in his chair.
"So, still interested in vampires?"

"Absolutely!" she almost yelled, feeling embarrassed immediately after.

The doctor seemed satisfied with her answer.
"I like you," he said, smirking broadly.
Hermione blushed a little.
"But, unfortunately, I have other places to be and need to be on my way soon, so …"
He grabbed the tourniquet from before.
"… if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take your blood now."

"But … but I barely got to ask anything," Hermione complained and retreated a little bit, "you won't get any until you tell me more." She felt quite nervous to disobey the man in front of her, but her endless curiosity provided her with enough courage to do it.

"Listen," he drawled and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second in an act of annoyance, "I'll make it up to you someday. I promise. But you have to understand that I have other, more important, things to do. I hadn't even planned to come here any time soon in the first place. So, I really can't stay to hold your hand."

Hermione's heart sank. He was right. He was probably very busy but still went out of his way to help her.
"Sorry," she said and held her arm out for him.

"Don't be," he immediately replied sympathetically and wrapped the tourniquet around her upper arm, "you're just thirsty for knowledge. I get that. I'm the same way. So, no need to apologize."

He skilfully inserted the needle into her vein and started to draw blood.
Hermione had to look away though.

"Plus, I do have a few more things to tell you," he continued while focusing on exchanging the tubes whenever there was enough blood in them, "and some precautionary measures you can take."

"Precautionary for what?" the girl asked nervously.

"Well, vampires do tend to seek out their favourite food," he chuckled quietly as he put away the las blood sample, released the tourniquet and freed her from the needle, before waving his wand to close the tiny wound.
"But it's actually very unlikely that she'll find you. I mean, she's got no info on you other than that you're a Hogwarts student."
He shrugged, stood up and stowed away the blood samples in his briefcase.
"So, it really is just precautionary."

Hermione's stomach churned unpleasantly. The thought of Bellatrix finding her scared her immensely. His words managed to soothe her a little, but the fear still remained.
"What can I do?"

"Well, first of all, only go out during daytime," Jonathan went on in a chattering manner, "vampires are weak to sunlight, as you yourself have experienced."
"They also have a very sensitive sense of smell. So, whenever you go out, make sure that you wear a lot of perfume to cover your natural scent; preferably a popular brand that a lot of people use. And mix it up a little, if you're going out often. That would most likely throw her off. Other strong smells would work too, but I doubt you want to be out and about reeking of garlic, fish or cheese."

Hermione wrinkled her nose.
"I'd rather not."

"You don't say."

They both giggled shortly.

"And lastly," he spoke up, now serious again, "I told you before that there was fact within the fiction. One of those things is the circumstance that vampires are, indeed, physically unable to enter one's private home unless formerly invited into it; be that verbally or in writing."

"So, if Bellatrix, against all odds, actually manages to find your house, no matter what you do …"
He leaned forward and intensely stared at her.
"Don't invite her in."

The girl was taken aback by the sudden tone shift in his voice and demeanour and just nodded in agreement, when a thought occurred to her.

"But what if …"
She swallowed hard.
"… What if I'm hypnotized?"
Her voice was quivering, not wanting to relive what she had been through a few weeks prior.

"Do you have any experience with the Imperius Curse and how to counter it?"

Hermione begrudgingly remembered the lesson with the fake Mad-Eye Moody in her fourth year and gave a nod.

"Works exactly the same, with the small bonus that Bellatrix has no idea what she's doing, what makes resisting her a lot easier. But you won't be needing it anyway."
He winked and flashed an encouraging smile, which Hermione returned thankfully.

"Alright," Dr. Strauss then exclaimed and clapped his hands once, "now that that's settled, I really have to ask you to leave."
He went up to her, put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around and walk her to the door.
"Give Theresa your contact info on the way out, so I can reach you when something comes up. And here, take this."
He shoved something that looked like a little statuette of a falcon into the girl's hands.

"What is that?"

"A messenger hawk," the doctor explained self-satisfied, "to stay in contact even after you return to Hogwarts. It will only respond to me and whomever I give it to. So, you can rest assured that, no matter what you write in your letters, I will be the only one reading it."

Hermione, deducing what that meant, looked at Jonathan with shining eyes.

"You mean, I can ask you anything, anytime?"

He didn't answer verbally but only gave her another wink and smirk.

"Thank you!" she beamed, wearing the brightest smile she had in weeks.

"Don't mention it. Now, take care," he said his goodbyes, gently shoved her out of his office and closed the door behind her.

Hermione didn't mind. She was just happy she would be able to learn more about vampires.
With a skip in her step she returned to the reception desk and, as instructed, left her contact information with the cyclops.

Afterwards the receptionist handed her a piece of paper.

"This is for you Ms. Granger."

"Just 'Hermione' is fine."

Theresa smiled broadly.

"Ok. Here are the instructions how to use the falcon."

"Thank you," the girl replied and took the paper from her, "and I'm really sorry for before."
She smiled ruefully.
"Usually, I'm not this insensitive."

"Oh, please don't worry about it," the cyclops waved off, "I have experienced much worse before, believe me."
Even though the smile remained in the one-eyed woman's beautiful face, it was hued with a slightly pained streak.

Hermione immediately felt bad for her and wanted nothing more than to give her a comforting hug, but seeing as they were practically strangers, that wouldn't have been appropriate.

"Well, anyway, I hope we can be friends from now on," she awkwardly stated and blushed a little, only now realizing how embarrassing it was to say that.

But, to her great surprise, Theresa's eye began to shine and her face brightened in radiant joy.

"I would like that a lot, Ms. Gra—"
She stopped herself and cleared her throat.
"Hermione."

The two exchanged one last smile before Hermione turned around and left the doctor's office.

It had been three days since her meeting with Dr. Strauss now and she had yet to receive any information. Of course, she didn't know how long it took to do a blood test and was sure that Jonathan was a reliable doctor and would call her as soon as he got the results, but the suspense was frustrating her none the less.

Not out of concern for her health, no, but because she was spending her days pretty much cooped up in her house, too afraid to go outside, since there was the slightest chance of Bellatrix actually finding her.

With a bored groan she turned off the TV she didn't pay attention to anyway and sat up on the sofa she had been lying on for the past hour. Taking a short look at the clock Hermione noticed that it had gotten quite late. The sun had set some time ago and the beautiful orange hue on the horizon was gradually fading into a much darker colour.

"Maybe I should just read until I fall asleep," the girl mused to herself, quite liking the idea. So, she stood up and made her way to her room.

When she reached the top of the stairs to the first floor, she threw a quick glance outside and instantly froze in place.

"No," she breathed weakly, starting to shake all over, "this can't be."

There, across the street, serenely standing beneath the sallow light of a dirty street lantern, staring right at her house with glistening, golden eyes, was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.