AN: Alright then, time for some vampire lore.

Lady Duras left soon after Dumbledore's departure, while Christof excused himself, muttering about unspecified preparations that needed doing. And so it fell to Arabella to show Amelie to her new room.

Dragging her trunk through the darkened halls, she tried to remember the way. Thankfully, unlike at Hogwarts, it did not seem as if the corridors were in the habit of changing places whenever they felt like it.

"So, your headmaster told us you stumbled straight from an orphanage into their wizard school?" Arabella said, giving her a sideway glance, "Quite a journey."

Amelie carefully tried to keep her luggage from knocking over any of the candelabras lining the hall.

"It was a lot all at once, yes."

Arabella shot her a smile. "Still, I'm surprised they let you get a wand and all that, knowing that you're one of us."

"It, uhm..." She hesitated before going on, "I already had all my things by that point. We'd just come back when I collapsed and Professor McGonagall brought me to the hospital where they found out."

"Hmm, lucky that, I suppose."

They eventually reached the west wing of the manor and Arabella led her to a simple, wooden door made of dark oak.

"This one's yours. Sometimes the other rooms are occupied, but most of the remaining Circle members move in when necessary or for special occasions." She gestured at a set of identical-looking doors down the hall.

"Is that why there's only Lady Duras and you two here at the moment?" Amelie asked.

Arabella grinned. "Don't forget the familiars like Salvatore." Familiars? Amelie filed her question away for later, while Arabella continued.

"But yes, the rest of the Circle mostly stays at their own estates or whatever place they've holed up in. They will come, of course, if her ladyship calls upon them."

She opened the door and led Amelie inside. The room was elegant and continued the theme of wood-panelled walls and thick carpets. There were dressers and shelves, accompanied by two arm-chairs and even a small sofa. An ornate desk stood against the wall. Like in the library, there were once again gas-lamps, instead of candle-sticks.

"No windows in the rooms on this side of the house," Arabella pointed out. "You might be used to the daylight, but it's still better for us to avoid it."

Taking everything in, the room didn't seem too bad. It wasn't as cosy as the Hufflepuff dorms, but as far as spooky, old manor houses went, it was fairly comfortable. Except, of course, for the obvious problem, staring Amelie in the face from the opposite end of the room.

"Uhm, Arabella?" she began, looking nervously at the large, ornate coffin in the corner.

The vampire caught her gaze and laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Patting Amelie's shoulder, she added, "Still, I'll have Salvatore bring you a pillow and a blanket. You should get settled in. Bathroom's down the hall to the left, can't miss it."

Arabella pulled a silver pocket-watch from her jacket. "Hmm, the night's still young, but I'm guessing you're more used to sleeping and waking like a mortal." She put the watch away and gave Amelie a look, rubbing her chin.

"Tell you what. I'll meet you in the library at six in the afternoon tomorrow. The sun will still be up, but that's unavoidable at this time of year," she mused. "Until then, don't hesitate to have a look around."

Putting her trunk down next to the desk, Amelie nodded. "Thank you."

"Oh, we're just getting started," she replied with a grin, flashing her fangs. "Have a good night, Amelie."

Finally alone, she let herself sink into the chair by the desk. Her gaze drifted around, taking in all the small details of the room. Her room.

It was certainly more posh than the humble guest chamber at the Leaky Cauldron, but it also didn't feel very 'alive'. She wondered if anyone had ever stayed here before her. Getting to her feet, she walked over and opened her trunk.

Her first year books were easy enough to stow away, taking up only half a row on the nearest shelf. Instead of putting them with the others, Amelie left Gilderoy Lockhart's works in a small pile by the desk, resolving to get rid of them at the first opportunity.

The rest of her school supplies quickly found space on the shelves and in the cupboards. With the small cauldron, her potion set, her quills, ink and parchment, it was at least starting to look like a witches room.

Amelie's hand fell on the thin box containing her wand. For a moment she considered taking it out. Did the restrictions for underage students even apply here? Shaking her head, she opened the top drawer of her desk and put the box inside. It wasn't worth the risk, just to test out a few spells. Amelie didn't want to imagine what would happen if someone from the ministry saw where she was right now.

Switching over to the next compartment, she pulled her clothes from her trunk. The dark Hogwarts robes seemed oddly fitting for the manor's ambience. Amelie grabbed a few coat-hangers and stuffed them into the large wardrobe, followed by her uniform and cloaks. Even with all her clothing stowed away, there was still so much room left.

From the last compartment, she removed any leftover loose items, scrolls of parchment or old Muggle novels. Amelie grinned when she pulled out the nearly-empty bag of Blood Pops, Polly had gifted her for her birthday, before dropping it on the desk, next to her old wrist-watch and the crescent moon amulet.

Grabbing the small bag with her toothbrush, she stepped out into the corridor.

The bathroom appeared surprisingly modern, despite the lavishly designed sinks and mirrors. Unlike at Hogwarts, Amelie had to stretch a bit to get a proper look. Clearly, none of it had been made with someone in mind who was still growing. She brushed her teeth and washed up, before quietly walking back to her room.

For a brief moment, she thought she had forgotten to put her amulet back on, but it dawned on her that she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. Hopefully she wouldn't get too used to walking around without it.

After changing into her pyjamas and turning off the lamps, Amelie was faced with the last obstacle of the night. She eyed the tall coffin with a frown.

It was made of polished, auburn wood with a simple lid and handles made of brass. A few decorative vines were carved along the edge. A pillow and a matching blanket had been left on the top while she was away. Would a normal bed have been too much to ask?

She stuffed the folded blanket under her arm and used her free hand to lift the lid. It swung up easily, revealing that it was attached to a pair of hinges on the other side.

The coffin was lined with white, silky cloth. Reaching inside, Amelie found, to her relief, that the bottom was cushioned by a layer of what seemed to be felt. Still, it was no proper mattress. She dropped the pillow and blanket inside, followed by her yellow wrist-watch.

Trying to get into the coffin proved more challenging than old horror films had made it appear, partly because it was made for someone much taller than Amelie. One leg at a time, she managed to slide over the rim and rolled onto her back, before awkwardly shuffling the blanket and pillow into position.

Swallowing the nervous feeling in her gut, Amelie reached up and carefully closed the lid, watching the last bit of pale light narrowing into a thin line, before disappearing entirely. Soon she was enveloped by darkness in the confines of her new 'bed'. She grimaced and wondered how she was ever supposed to get any sleep like this.

Leaning back, Amelie's head hit the pillow and she was out in an instant.

Drifting awake, the only indication she had that she wasn't still asleep, was the warm, slightly stuffy feeling all around. It took a moment, before Amelie remembered where she was and why everything was still dark. Reaching out, she felt the inside of the coffin's lid and pushed it open.

Sunlight was seeping in from under the door, drenching the room in a faint, orange glow. It was just enough to let her see clearly. Amelie rummaged around next to her pillow, until she felt her wrist-watch. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she checked to find that it was just past noon.

As Amelie quickly realised, getting into the coffin had been easier than getting out. She had half a mind to try levitating out, like she had seen in an old black-and-white film, but after almost a minute of trying to will herself to float, she gave up.

Gripping the edge, she awkwardly half-climbed, half-slid over it, her leg blindly looking for purchase on the floor. For a terrible moment she felt as if the entire coffin was about to flip over, prompting her to let go and land on her butt.

"Oof!"

Rubbing her sore backside, Amelie staggered to her feet. She quickly got dressed and washed, before setting off into the mansion. With no breakfast in the Great Hall to attend, she was left to wander around and explore.

The change in scenery between night and day was astonishing. In the light, the corridors had lost their foreboding atmosphere and only the inner halls of the manor still retained any dark corners.

For a while, the only sound came from Amelie's footsteps on the wooden floor and the occasional antique clock. Downstairs she saw Salvatore, dusting the windows, and gave the 'familiar' an awkward "Hello", receiving only a small bow in return.

The corridors and drawing room were empty, as were the main entrance and the connected dining hall. Amelie wasn't sure why a house full of vampires would need a room for feasts, but perhaps they liked to throw a lot of parties.

Through the glass doors at the back of the mansion, she could see an expansive rose garden that stretched all the way to the meadow bordering the forest. White stone benches lined the gravel path, leading around a small fountain.

Amelie considered taking a stroll outside, but the summer sun felt oppressive, even through the windows alone. She squinted through the glass. Perhaps Arabella and the rest of the coven had the right idea.

Behind the main hall, she stumbled upon a wide set of doors that seemed to lead down into the basement. Seeing a few torches were still lit, Amelie decided to take a peek.

The stone steps grew wider, the deeper she descended. Despite feeling more comfortable in the dark, she couldn't help shake the feeling that this was no basement at all.

At the bottom, the ceiling opened up into a cavern. Even with her exceptional vision, Amelie had to look closely to recognize the large shapes. They were tombs and crypts. Small, decorated structures that seemed to lead deeper into the earth. The masonry looked almost ancient, compared to the manor above.

Swallowing, Amelie carefully stepped back and onto the stairs, taking the steps two or three at a time as she briskly made her way back up. She wasn't sure what, or who, was down there, but she was in no hurry to find out.

Trudging back to her room, she wiped some of the dust from her skirt.

With several hours to spare, Amelie pulled her Transfiguration book and a few rolls of parchment from the shelf. If nothing else, she could at least get started on her homework.

Six o'clock was quickly approaching and with most of her essay done, Amelie closed her ink-well and put her quill down. The way to the library wasn't too hard to recall, especially after a year of running around Hogwarts. When she arrived, Amelie slowly opened the door and looked around.

Thick curtains were drawn over the large window on the opposite wall, leaving the room in a comfortable half-darkness. There was no-one to be seen.

Walking in, Amelie examined one of the gas-lamps more closely. Strangely enough, it didn't seem to be connected to anything, but when she twisted a small wheel on the underside, the lamp started to glow. With nothing else to do besides wait, Amelie lit the remaining lights.

It wasn't until almost quarter past six, when the door opened again and Arabella walked in. She was wearing leather trousers and a blouse, her hair hastily combed, giving her a far less mysterious aura than the night before.

Rubbing her eyes, she spotted Amelie sitting in one of the arm-chairs. "Are you always early for your lessons?" she groaned, massaging her temples.

"It's easy to get lost at Hogwarts, so we always leave with some time to spare," Amelie explained. She watched with anticipation as Arabella walked past her and leaned against a book-shelf.

"Right then. I assume you have at least some idea about what it means to be a vampire. We look different, we're not quite alive and we need human blood to sustain us. Without it, we wither and die."

Amelie listened and nodded. The pain of going without blood was still fresh in her memory. She didn't dare wonder what would've happened without Professor McGonagall bringing her to the wizard hospital.

"While you do age at a mortal pace right now, that will quickly change as you reach adulthood. After that, it will slow with every day, month and year. A century from now you'll still look like a young woman."

She nudged her head towards a painting on the wall, which showed Countess Duras wearing a purple dress and holding a rapier.

"For example, that portrait was made over 500 years ago, yet her ladyship has barely changed since."

"So how old-" Amelie began, giving the other vampire a curious look, but Arabella sighed and cut in.

"I'm two-hundred-twenty-six, if you must know. No, wait. Twenty-seven, actually. Time sure does fly. Anyway, the point is, no vampire in living memory has died of old age. If it is even possible at all."

"I see." At least Amelie wouldn't look like a child forever, she noted with some relief.

"Alright, where was I?" Arabella pondered. "It's not like I get to do this kind of talk often, or at any point before today so far."

"Ah, of course. Blood." She grinned and Amelie felt uncomfortably reminded how predatory Arabella could look sometimes. Was she giving the same impression without her amulet on?

Pacing around in front of the desk, Arabella gestured as she clarified, "You see, while I'm sure that potion, the wizards are giving you, is doing just fine, there's nothing like fresh, warm blood, Amelie."

"It is like," she hesitated, looking for the right words, "Imagine the most perfect, refined wine you have ever tasted..."

Amelie gave her a flat look. "I'm twelve."

Throwing up her hands, Arabella replied, exasperated, "And I haven't tasted wine in two hundred years, so just... bear with me, alright?"

"At any rate," she continued, after clearing her throat, "Blood is essential for us. You can get by on the small amount in the Sanguinaris Potion and the like, but you'll be much weaker than you should be."

"So how do we..." Amelie began. She wasn't sure she liked where the lecture was going.

"Get fresh blood? Oh, quite simple. We just go out and hunt."

Arabella seemed quite amused watching Amelie's expression. "It's not that difficult, really. Just find a nice, juicy mortal, get them to a secluded place and have at it."

Amelie squirmed in her seat, wringing her hands uncomfortably. "But what happens then? I mean..." Her stomach was clenching up at the thought.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Arabella dismissed her concerns. "Once you've got your fangs in one, they become really nice and docile. It's our own kind of magic, of course, so they mostly don't remember a thing. As long as you didn't give yourself away."

"They even like it sometimes," she added with a meaningful look, which vanished into an awkward cough as she seemed to remember who she was talking to.

Nodding along, Amelie asked, "So they don't get hurt then?" The gloomy feeling slowly disappeared. Perhaps she wouldn't have to run around and attack people like a monster, after all.

Her expression became more serious as Arabella crossed her arms. "No. Even the worst among us know not to let humans come to harm. If people started disappearing or being found drained of blood, things would get ugly very quickly. Just ask the elders, like Lady Duras, what they remember from the time of the Inquisition."

She nodded slowly. "There might be some of us that don't particularly care about human lives, but they know full well what happens if they take one. Despite what the wizards like to think, there are still humans that know of our existence, and they're just waiting for us to put one toe out of line. Break that rule and the covens won't wait for the mortals to take you out. They'll do it themselves."

The idea, of going into town to find people to ambush, seemed about as appealing as a year-long detention with Professor Snape. Rubbing her arm, Amelie asked, "Do I have to go out and, uh..., hunt for myself from now on?"

Thankfully, Arabella shook her head. "I don't think so. You're still too young at this point. It wouldn't be right to send you chasing after mortals just yet. Besides, we have plenty of blood stored away."

"Oh, and needless to say," she continued, giving Amelie a mischievous grin, "you definitely shouldn't try nibbling on any of your classmates. The wizard government really, really doesn't like hearing about its people waking up with holes in their necks."

Amelie felt her face heating up. "I wasn't gonna- I didn't-", she sputtered, while Arabella laughed.

"Oh, you say that now." The older vampire raised an eyebrow and Amelie quickly shut her mouth.

"Moving on," Arabella said and began pacing again. "There's a few things to watch out for. Immortality only extends so far, and dying is never a pleasant experience."

Nodding, Amelie recalled waking up in the Hospital Wing after being attacked by the Basilisk.

"Make sure you keep your head attached to your neck and stay away from fire. Aside from that," Arabella continued, "there's the usual things to avoid. Garlic and, of course, sunlight."

"Now, as you probably noticed, we don't go up in smoke during the day." Arabella pointed at the glow coming from behind the curtains. "But being exposed, even indirectly, is bad for us nonetheless."

She cocked her head and explained, "It weakens our bodies and dulls our senses. You've probably felt much better when you were out and about at night, correct?"

"Uh, we're mostly in bed by nine or ten," Amelie replied sheepishly. "We only get to stay up longer for Astronomy lessons."

Arabella sighed. "Well, it might be best for you to flip your regular sleep schedule while you're here. The others from the Circle aren't really up before sunset."

Footsteps were approaching from the corridor.

"Ah, speak of the devil," Arabella snarled and turned towards the door, just as Christof walked in. "Thought you'd leave most of the talking to me, I reckon?"

Christof shrugged off her remarks and gave Amelie a nod. "Of course. What with your charming personality and all." He gave her a rather smug smile. "You've covered the basics then?"

Leaning back against the desk, Arabella crossed her arms and replied, "We were just getting to the fun part, actually."

She turned back to her student, while Christof took a seat. "There's a ton we can do that wizards can't. Or, at best, they poorly try to imitate."

Amelie perked up, listening closely. After all the talk of blood and scorching sunlight, it would be nice to hear a bit more about the upsides.

"First and foremost," Arabella started, "we are stronger, faster and more resilient than any mortal. Even during the day, they can't hold a candle to us when it comes to that. And at night we're almost unstoppable."

Amelie had never felt particularly exceptional, but then again, her childhood scraps had all happened in bright daylight and before she had changed back. Still, superhuman strength wasn't going to help her pass her exams.

"You've probably noticed that scratches and wounds heal very quickly. More serious injuries might take some more time and blood, but anything that doesn't kill us outright can be recovered from."

"I, uh, actually fell from a broom once," Amelie admitted, recalling her disastrous first Flying lesson last year. She decided to keep her little melee against a horde of spiders, to herself.

Arabella nodded. "See? And instead of breaking every bone in your body, you were fine afterwards."

Crossing her arms again, she continued. "Speaking of bodies, our perception is, of course, also superior. We can see in the dark, hear better and have a keen sense of smell."

Christof leaned forward and spoke up. "We are also quite resilient against spells directed at us." He added, "Wizards know this, so naturally they keep us at arm's length. They're well aware that things look bad for them up close and personal."

Pushing away from the shelf, Arabella smiled and went on, "Of course we have our own tricks, too. After all, who needs a broom when you can turn into a bat and fly? Why curse people when you can hypnotise them?"

Amelie gawped at her. "Really? I can do that?"

"Uhm, well, in theory at least," Arabella admitted awkwardly. "These kinds of skills take a lot of practice. It's not something you can just pick up on a whim."

"By which she means that it took her years before she finally managed to not land on her face, after trying to take flight," Christof uttered.

"As if you did any better!"

The initial surge of Amelie's excitement slowly subsided. Even being a vampire required studying and practice.

"Well, at least I've got my spells until then," she sighed.

Christof nodded, giving her a curious look. "Quite so. One might say you have the strength of both, for better or for worse. Although, if I were you I wouldn't go around showing off too much. The wizards and the ministry won't be thrilled about a vampire who shares their powers."

There was, once again, the feeling that there was more to her abilities than the coven was ready to admit. Surely a few charms and jinxes weren't such a big deal.

"Why is that? I mean, I've only finished my first year and we haven't even learned that many spells yet," Amelie remarked nervously.

She was starting to get the feeling that there was a piece of the picture she wasn't seeing. Why was magic so significant, when vampires were already magical beings to begin with?

Heaving a sigh, Christof shook his head. "Irrelevant. You have the ability, just like any mortal witch. This gives you the capability to perform magic just as they do. Use their spells, their enchantments; the illusions and tricks they have to confound and transform."

He leaned forward and gazed at Amelie intensely. "But at the end of the day, you are a vampire and that makes you a threat in their eyes. The only reason those wizard politicians can sleep at night is because they think themselves untouchable, their powers elevating them above all other beings in this world."

"Your existence is an uncomfortable reminder that that is not the case." A grin was playing around his lips. "Why do you think her ladyship took you in so quickly? Room and all."

Amelie looked up, but before she could ask what he meant, Arabella cut in.

"That's enough of that, Christof."

There was a notable tension in the air as the two stared silently at each other. Eventually, Christof relented with a shrug.

Arabella rubbed her temples. "I'll see about finding some information on how to practise transformations. I'd love to teach you, Amelie, but it's actually been centuries since I learned it myself. Doing it and teaching it are two very different things. Until then, we should leave it at that."

For a moment, Amelie considered asking more questions, but the atmosphere in the library hadn't quite returned to normal yet.

Nodding, she said, "Thanks for everything today. This really helped a lot." Grinning, she added, "Professor."

Arabella scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh don't even think about it, or I'm going to start assigning homework next!"

With the rest of the house still quiet, Amelie made her way back to her room and finished her Transfiguration essay.

As the sun set, more activity could be heard in the halls below. Stalking down the corridor, Amelie strained her ears to pick up the voices from the entrance hall, but she was too far away. Footsteps were coming from the stairs near her room, so she quickly turned back.

To her relief, it was only Arabella. Curiously, she was carrying a stack of clothes on her arm.

"Ah, good. I have a few things for you." Lifting the item from the top of the pile, she presented Amelie with a dark, blue dress. There was lace on the lapels and the sleeves, making it look like something out of a theatrical costume shop.

"It's not much, but I scraped together what I could find that would fit you. You probably don't want to run around in that school-uniform all summer."

Amelie accepted the stack of clothes with an awkward 'thanks'. At least the shirts, dresses and skirts underneath the first one were a bit less 'out there' in terms of decoration.

Snapping her fingers, Arabella said, "Before I forget. Lady Duras wants to speak with you at ten. Her study is in the east wing, just look for the ornate double-doors."

After nodding and retreating to her room, Amelie picked out a frilled, white blouse, a dark vest with red stripes, and a long skirt. Examining herself in the mirror, she wasn't too unhappy with the combination.

It certainly didn't feel out of place in a vampire mansion. Although, stepping into regular, Muggle London would probably look like she had just stumbled out of the previous century.

The east wing had, so far, escaped Amelie's curiosity. There was a higher number of portraits than in the other corridors and the curtains were always drawn across the windows.

There were no double-doors on the ground floor, so Amelie took the first set of stairs up to continue her search above. She almost ran head-first into a figure stepping around the corner.

"'scuse me," she squeaked, taking a step backwards.

Before her stood a tall man, wearing a dark, brown coat. He had a hard, angular face with strong cheek-bones and a prominent, slightly crooked nose. His beard and the short hair, spilling out from under his top-hat, were black with the occasional streak of grey. Flashing a pair of fangs, he grinned at Amelie.

"No harm done, of course," the man drawled, sounding more bemused than anything else. He eyed Amelie closely.

"Hmm, you must be mademoiselle de Valois," he uttered with undisguised curiosity.

Amelie nodded, her throat closing up in the presence of the older vampire. He chuckled and drew his hat, giving her a small bow.

"Baron Clemens Gallowhedd, at your service."

Swallowing, Amelie returned the gesture. She wasn't sure what to make of the stranger, but his demeanour wasn't that far off from the rest of the manor's residents.

She mumbled, "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Let me welcome you to our humble abode," he drawled. "While I'd love to stay and chat, I wouldn't wish you to be late for your parlay with her ladyship."

He touched the brim of his hat once more. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you around."

With a final nod, Baron Gallowhedd walked past her and towards the stairs leading to the main hall.

Amelie briefly wondered how he knew where she was headed, but the double-doors in the corridor he had come from left few options as to her possible destinations. Taking a deep breath to clear her head, she stepped up and knocked.

"Come in, Amelie."

Lady Duras' study was smaller than Amelie had anticipated. Most of the walls were covered by rows upon rows of books, scrolls and leather-bound tomes. One table, off to the side, seemed to hold a small set of beakers and glass bottles, while another one nearby was overflowing with maps and star charts. An old globe was sitting in a wooden frame, but from her brief glance, Amelie couldn't recognize any of the land-masses.

The countess herself was seated in a very tall arm-chair, standing behind an ornate desk. Unlike the night before, she was wearing a much less lavish and voluminous dress. Instead she was clothed in a dark, high-collared outfit that, oddly enough, reminded Amelie of Professor McGonagall. There was a distinct 'headmistress' aura to her appearance.

"Good evening. Do take a seat." Lady Duras put down the parchment she'd been reading and pointed at one of the chairs before her.

Amelie mumbled a quiet 'good evening' in return and sat down.

"Now then," the countess began, "Arabella has already informed me that you've had your first lesson." There was a faint smile, playing around her lips.

"Yes, ma'am."

The countess regarded her across her folded hands, resting her elbows on the desk.

"Good. It's important that you know what awaits you. Both here and out there." She leaned back and continued. "What Arabella and Christof teach you should help to compensate for the years you have lived in ignorance of your true nature."

Amelie fidgeted with the sleeve of her blouse, before saying, "Uhm, I do have a question."

"Of course, go ahead." Lady Duras fixated her with a curious look.

Taking a deep breath, Amelie began, "During the lesson, and before, it seemed like there was something wrong with me having magic. I know that it's rare and unusual, but I don't understand what this all means."

She rubbed her arms nervously. "I mean, we're already magical, so isn't this close to the same thing?"

Amelie looked at Lady Duras, waiting for a response. She almost flinched, when the countess laughed.

"The same thing? Goodness, child!" Calming herself, Lady Duras explained, "Wizard magic and our existence are very much not the same, no matter what it might look like through the eyes of a mortal."

"Christof mentioned that it has to do with spells and enchantments and such," Amelie muttered.

"Indeed. Wards, enchantments, wands, magical vows... all the various ways the wizards elevate themselves above others." She seemed to be staring at a point far away.

"Centuries ago, we ruled over our own lands. We had an... understanding with the mortal population and in exchange for stability, they bent the knee and accepted our authority," the countess said. "In those times, we were a great power. Equals to the sorcerers of old."

She let out a breath. "But then the wizards decided to hide themselves away and, in the process, they forced that decision on all other magical beings. We were forced to give up everything."

The countess folded her hands, her lips pulled into a thin line.

"And now we exist only as far as they allow it. Not a people in our own right, but a 'problem', to be filed, managed, stamped, indexed and regulated. Were it not for our strength, we would be under the wizards' heel, like the elves, the centaurs, the merfolk and all the others. Shadows of their former selves."

Amelie swallowed nervously. The leather chair around her felt taller and deeper than it had when she sat down.

"Magic," Lady Duras continued, "is the means by which the mortal wizards hold on to that power. While we are resilient to direct attacks, we are helpless in the face of their more elaborate tricks, just like the masses of non-magical humans are."

She gave Amelie a smirk. "And into all this, comes you."

"I- does that mean the others hate me?" Amelie felt uncomfortable under the countess' gaze.

"Hate?" Lady Duras raised an eyebrow. "Oh no, girl. I doubt there is any vampire that would equate you to the foolish wizards. Quite the opposite."

"What does that mean exactly?" she asked hesitantly.

Lady Duras rubbed her chin, giving her a pensive look.

"Well, you're a fly in the soup of wizard nobility. Your very existence is a challenge to their claim to power. If they knew you existed, they'd be shaking in their robes." She gave Amelie a satisfied grin, but it slowly vanished from her face as she went on.

"You need to be aware, Amelie. Your powers will make you a thorn in the side of the ministry and all those who wish to keep magic away from non-humans."

Lady Duras' eyes narrowed.

"As it stands, we are at a stalemate and even if the conflict is not burning, its embers are still hot. The ministry of magic cannot act out against us without incurring a cost too high for them to bear. At the same time, we could not hope to win against their magic and their numbers. Neither can make a move."

She leaned forward, looking closely at Amelie.

"There are some that might seek to use you, or other vampires like you, to break this tie."

There was only the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. Amelie could feel herself shiver under the intense gaze of the countess. She nodded slowly.

Before anymore could be said, there was a simple knock on the door.

"Ah, good. Come in, Salvatore."

The familiar entered wordlessly, carrying a small tray holding two glass goblets. Amelie perked up when her nose caught the scent of the dark, red liquid within.

"I would say we've had enough heavy conversation for tonight," the countess said with a grin. "Time to turn to more enjoyable matters."

Salvatore placed the tray on the table and gave a small bow, before leaving and closing the door.

Amelie eyed the vessels nervously. The blood within was darker than she would have anticipated, but all she had to compare were cartoons and the occasional scraped knee.

"Don't look so glum," Lady Duras chided. She picked up one of the goblets and placed it before Amelie, before taking the other one for herself. "I haven't tried this vintage yet, but if the price is anything to go by, it should be sublime."

Tearing her eyes away, Amelie gave her a questioning look. "Uhm, where did you get this from?"

"We can't always go out and hunt for our meals. Besides, it is not hard to get your hands on anything, my dear, as long as gold is not a factor. Do give it a try!" The countess lifted the goblet and took a long swig.

Despite the uneasiness fluttering in her chest, Amelie reached out and grasped the cup, raising it carefully. The liquid within was warm and the scent was making her dizzy.

Placing it at her lips, she tried a careful sip.

The rush almost made her drop the goblet. It was as if pure, liquid energy was zipping over her tongue and down her throat. Amelie barely noticed her surroundings as she drank the blood from the cup, her mind buzzing.

Before she knew it, she had downed everything to the last drop. Her hand was shaking as she placed the goblet on the table. Amelie gripped the arm-rest, trying to steady herself.

She could feel her head spinning, every muscle in her body throbbing, as if she could spring out of her chair and run up the walls. Squeezing her eyes closed, Amelie took slow, deep breaths, trying to shake off the overwhelming sensation.

"Quite a bit more potent than your usual sustenance, I presume?" Lady Duras was giving her a satisfied grin, her own cup emptied as well.

Amelie nodded, her head feeling sluggish. She blinked, trying to focus on stopping the room from spinning.

The countess cleared her throat, mumbling, "Maybe a bit much for someone your age."

Slowly, the desk and furniture stopped doing somersaults through Amelie's head. There was a vibrant edge to everything. She could feel every detail standing out, her gaze swishing across the room.

"Right then," Lady Duras said. "Let's settle down a bit. There's still a few things to discuss."

She studied a piece of parchment, before placing it on the desk between them. There were pictures of the moon and sun above several paragraphs Amelie couldn't quite make out.

The countess tapped the parchment and explained, "The summer solstice will soon be upon us. Most of the Circle will attend the gathering here at the Hall. It will be a good opportunity to introduce you officially."

The buzzing in her head receded and Amelie started feeling nervous again. A ball? With her in attendance? She grimaced at the thought of being led around in an extravagant dress, like a prize dog at an exhibit.

"Will I... have to do anything?" she asked.

Lady Duras waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it." She shook her head. "The others will be curious, but you won't be expected to entertain them."

Nodding slowly, Amelie perked up. "There is one more thing I wanted to ask, ma'am."

"Yes, Amelie?"

She cleared her throat and fidgeted slightly in her seat, the dizzying feeling still not quite gone from her head.

"I was wondering, what exactly is a familiar?"

The countess raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Ah, a good question, my dear. I suppose Arabella mentioned it."

She steepled her fingers and went on, "You may have heard of Animagi, correct? Wizards, who have learned to turn themselves into animals."

Amelie nodded. "I think so. Our Transfiguration teacher turned into a cat. Although I could still smell that she was human."

"Yes, quite so," Lady Duras said. "A familiar is, essentially, the inverse of an Animagus. You understand?"

Watching the countess grin, eager to coax the answer out of her, Amelie cleared her throat. "So, it's an animal that learned to turn into a human, right?"

Lady Duras nodded and seemed pleased. "There is, of course, a bit more to it. But in the broadest sense, you are correct. Familiars are beasts that have been given human shape through certain concoctions, to act as our servants and protectors."

She tapped her chin. "The nature of the creature usually determines its role in the household. Salvatore, for example, is a stag. Protective, loyal and perfectly suited for tending to the manor during the day and the twilight hours."

"You have yet to meet Joyce, as she is currently on an errand," the countess said. "Bat familiars are, naturally, quite common for us. Their senses at night rival our own and they are very resourceful."

Amelie nodded slowly. With the fresh blood still coursing through her, it felt hard to concentrate and her head was starting to throb from all the new information, just like those very first days at Hogwarts.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," Amelie replied, straightening her back and stretching her arms, feeling them tingle from the shoulders to her fingertips.

"Excellent. If there's anything else, don't hesitate to ask. The grounds and the library are open to you, of course."

Sliding out of her seat, Amelie nodded. "I will. Have a good night, ma'am."

The countess gave her a small wave, her attention already back on the scrolls of parchment covering half her desk.

Walking along the corridor, lit only by candles and the moon, Amelie felt a warm, lava-like heat settling in her stomach.

Despite having just drunk more blood than she normally would in weeks, she almost felt hungry for more, unconsciously licking her lips and along her fangs.