Summary: SSSHG, AU, Undrabble, Severus was born to vampire parents, but before he could mature enough to realise what was most important, something insidious turns his head. Hermione is given a choice that will change her life forever.
Beta Love aka people who deny Corvus their need to murder everyone: Dragon and the Giant Cookie, Dutchgirl01 the obsessively busy, Commander Shepard who strives to somehow be busier than Dutchgirl01
A/N: Was supposed to be a drabble. Sigh.
Matters of the Heart
An Undrabble by Corvusdraconis
The worst thing in life is not to die but to live with bitterness.
Vitor Belfort
Severus placed his hand to Hermione's cheek, and she opened her eyes. He was silent, but his eyebrows seemed to say what he didn't put into words.
"I'll be okay," she said weakly. "Madam Pomfrey is taking really good care of me."
He grimaced, his eyes boring into hers as he frowned slightly.
"I really will be okay," she insisted. "I'll stay here. You don't need to worry."
Severus frowned.
Hermione touched his cheek. "Honest. I'll stay right here. I promise."
She frowned slightly. "You should stay in too. Your voice still isn't back yet. What if something happened?"
Severus shook his head.
Hermione winced, and Severus' face twisted with concern.
He pressed his hand over hers, and she closed her eyes, curling into a ball on the infirmary bed, but she didn't fight his touch. Her breathing slowly eased along with her pain, and she soon fell into a light sleep.
Severus winced, closing his eyes. His fingers rubbed the skin of her hand as he struggled with conflicting emotion. Concern for her, his friend, over the need to meet with Lily and apologise for his abysmal behaviour. Lily had been his friend since he was little, and she'd seen him through really rough times. She deserved his time, especially after he'd lost his everloving mind and called her—
But Hermione had been getting sicker. A slow, torturous decline. It seemed like every time he left her side, she grew weaker.
But she had to.
She, too, was Gryffindor.
Out of his reach.
He blamed the bloody hat.
It couldn't seem to make up its mind, so the Headmaster had made up his mind instead. He put her in Gryffindor. At the time, he hadn't known her for very long—a bushy-haired little know-it-all from London from a pair of Muggle parents. She'd accidentally Apparated to Cokeworth of all places and met him of all people. They'd become friends almost instantly—and his mum had to help her back to London before her parents realised she was halfway across Britain.
But the more he got to know her, the more he thought she didn't truly belong there in Gryffindor. Lily, he admitted, did. But Hermione was clever. Ambitious. Determined. She dove headlong into books but not danger.
Lately, he found he was feeling rather conflicted. His loyalty to Lily had never been questioned. Even Hermione seemed to realise that. Sometimes she would question his leaving to go to her all the time, but in the end he'd leave anyway, and eventually, she'd stopped asking.
He'd snapped at her a few times.
She couldn't understand, how could she?
And Hermione just closed her eyes, withdrew into herself, and sadly watched him go.
Only lately—
He'd started to feel a sort of pain whenever he left her side. Like he'd cut a vital piece of himself away. Before, that had always been something he'd felt with Lily.
At least, he'd thought he had.
But it felt strangely different now.
It felt—like he'd been lost forever and had only now been given a proper map and a compass.
Only that pointer wasn't pointing to Lily.
And that made him feel guilty and angry.
Conflicted. Confused.
And Hermione—she was caught right in the middle of it.
As his fingers brushed against her skin, she seemed to settle, but even more, he felt his magic stir—reaching out to connect to her in ways that made him feel even guiltier.
Lily deserved his loyalty. The inner conflict made it even harder to sort his feelings.
Worse, his parents did not share his feelings about Lily. Especially, his father.
Tobias was never rude to Lily, but whenever Lily came to visit, he didn't exactly roll out the red carpet. It was simply about tolerance and nothing more.
When Hermione visited, the glamoured hell-pups tumbled out to greet her with enthusiasm, and even their protective bitch would follow her around begging for pets and scritches.
She didn't know, of course, that they were hellhounds at first. How could she? No, but they loved her all the same. They'd all fight for purchase on her lap and shove everyone else off the settee. All so they could cuddle with her as she studied, waiting for him to be ready for the walk to the library or trips to the museum.
Tobias seemed to watch over her closely—not in that Cokeworth "don't steal my stuff" sort of way but a more proactively protective kind of way. He'd tell stories of the history of pieces in a way that caused Hermione's face to brighten with excitement.
Unbeknownst to Hermione at the time, Tobias told stories of history like he'd been there.
Because he actually had.
Hermione listened raptly, absorbing it all as if it all came to life in her mind.
The few times Lily went to the museums with them, she only wanted to see the most beautiful pieces. The most famous. She had no interest in true history. Or what Tobias or his mum had to say.
Yet, Severus had only seen Lily in that pure golden light. His childhood friend. His saviour.
Saviour from—what exactly?
His homelife had certainly been meagre, but it hadn't been lacking in care. His parents obviously loved each other. What was Lily saving him from—exactly?
Lily didn't ever touch him. She did not permit his touch at all. He carried her books for her. He got her things off the tops of shelves—he told her about all of his problems, and for what?
She forgave bloody Potter, not him.
But he still felt like he owed her an apology for his uncouth behaviour—for calling her a—that horrible word.
Severus remembered the look of tenderness on his father's face whenever Hermione would come to visit. Something he had never shown for Lily. If anything—Tobias had stifled a grimace or the urge to grit his teeth.
Yet Severus had such a fondness for Lily's approval. Her rare beauty. Her fiery magic.
Hermione seemed rather plain in comparison.
Her brown hair was wild and bushy. Her teeth had sort of resembled a rabbit's when she was younger.
Lily was gregarious and quite attractive—even as a child. She became even more so as she grew older.
How could he not think Lily was—absolutely everything he wasn't?
But in this moment—with his skin touching hers. With the feel of her warmth against his hand, the sound of her soft breathing—he felt—
Conflicted.
As if maybe, just maybe, there was a bit more he should be paying attention to that wasn't about Lily.
That Hermione's health was slowly failing her, and there was seemingly no end to the decline—it troubled him. While Lily was always at the forefront of his mind, Hermione was, at the very least, a lingering presence and a good friend.
Tender thoughts, however, were all for Lily. And that was why he had to go meet her and apologise. He had to convince her that he was truly sorry.
He looked back at the sleeping Hermione and closed his eyes before quietly exiting the infirmary.
"I assure you, Madam Bones," Dumbledore said stiffly. "Our students are quite safe at Hogwarts. Miss Granger is being taken care of by Poppy Pomfrey, who is perfectly qualified to take care of our charges here."
The two black-haired men standing next to Amelia wore sharp faces seemingly carved of stone. One man had a classically handsome face as if one had taken a sculpture and brought it to life. The other had a distinctly Roman nose, and eyes of a black so fathomless that they might have been black holes.
Albus took an involuntary step backwards.
Both men seemed oddly familiar.
Hauntingly.
His eyes widened.
"Ah, the light finally dawns," Sanguini said. "See how it rises like the sun on the horizon." His voice was acidic. "You'll have to pardon me for not dressing the part of the lowly, hungry friend of Eldred Worple. I fear we have rather more pressing concerns to address, Headmaster."
"I fear we must insist that these gentlemen check on Miss Granger's health, Headmaster," Amelia said bluntly. "Under the terms of the treaty that keeps good relations between the Undead Nation and those less long-lived."
"Miss Granger is not a member of the undead," Dumbledore immediately protested.
"Not yet, no," the stern-looking man said. His umbral gaze practically burned the air as it went. "But she is to be asked, and that alone is reason enough for us to both nurture and protect her until the choice is made—even after, no matter the answer. Those that can peacefully coexist with us are to be treasured, regardless of whether they Turn or not."
Albus fidgeted awkwardly as the silence cut deeply.
"Very well."
Sanguini's eyes blew wide in shock as his hand touched Hermione's forehead. "Good gods, Tobias—" He began to crumple, and Tobias caught him with a deft motion.
"Mihail," he hissed. "What is it?"
Tobias' eyes went wide as crimson tears flowed down his old friend's face. "Gods," he whispered. "She's your—that means—"
"A triumvirate," his friend replied, grimacing as he sat down heavily beside Hermione's bed. "Unless there are others hiding in the wings.
"I may not be able to wait for your son to pull his head out of his nethers, old friend. She's dying." Sanguini grimaced. "I never once touched her at Slughorn's parties. I never knew."
"Well, there is the one true test—" Tobias said with a wince. "Bleeding for your mate being the most obvious clue. And my son is still resisting his nature. It's not like we can force that out unless it's an emergency. Normally, we would want our young to savour mortality for the small time it is ours."
Tobias sighed. "I've known for some time that she was meant for one of us. Even the hounds love her. My Lethifold blatantly flirts with her. It doesn't get much more obvious than that. I had just hoped that Severus—I will help ease her in, and you must do the rest."
"Wake up, dear child."
Hermione stirred groggily. She felt so heavy. So tired.
"Mister Snape? What are you doing here?"
Tobias sighed. "I fear your health is taking a turn for the worst. Please, call me Tobias. What I have to say requires both honesty and intimacy, and should at least call me by my name in such dire times."
Hermione flushed slightly. "Tobias. It must be dire. You look so serious."
He smiled slightly. "It is, unfortunately." He took a deep breath. "I hear you passed your NEWTs with flying colours," Tobias said. "That you are of age."
Hermione smiled again. "I thought I failed. You know me and tests."
"I rather doubt if you'd ever fail, child," Tobias said. He sighed deeply. "Do you remember what we taught you about different kinds of vampires?"
"There are a few different types. The elders that look out for their Lines and the Sang as a whole. The—normal people as it were who just live their lives like they always did. The children who are not yet mature enough to Turn."
"There are also the thralls, child." Tobias sighed. "Those who have committed crimes of great significance. The kindred, which are those mortals that choose to live with us, knowing who and what we are, but submitting to our laws in order to live a peaceful life."
"Those like me, that you look after because we have a high chance of being compatible with one of the Sang," Hermione said. "That a vampire might find us highly compatible."
"There is a good reason we take care of our kindred very well," Tobias said. "You remember how we first met?"
Hermione nodded.
"Ow! You naughty thing," Hermione chided the happy pup.
Severus came running over. "Are you okay? What happened?"
Hermione huffed. "It's nothing. He was just really enthusiastic and nipped me."
Severus' eyes widened as the hellpup curled up in her lap, languidly licking the blood where he had nicked her skin with his puppy fangs. Hermione, however, seemed fine with it, her eyes half-lidded in a drowsy cuddle with the pup.
The pup licked her wound until it healed under its ministrations, and then, he wriggled and licked under her chin as she giggled and pulled the pup into a cuddle.
The pup was under a glamour. There was no way she could see its true form—
But Severus did. The pup wrapped his sinuous tail around her arm possessively and radiated the soothing energy they were known to give to their families.
The other pups, super jealous, fought for purchase on the poor settee, and they all piled on her, wrapping their tails around her appendages and smothering her with happy, soothing licks.
Hermione was out like a light from excess relaxation.
Tobias came in shortly after, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Soundlessly, he pulled a soft blanket from the cupboard and tucked her into the settee.
His father's dutiful Lethifold, the Lethifold that hadn't left him in all the time Severus knew of it, slithered out from under the blanket and curled around Hermione protectively.
Tobias' eyebrow lifted immediately, but his face softened into a rare smile.
"Rest well, child," his father said softly as he pressed a gentle kiss upon her temple in an even more rare moment of tenderness to mortals. He walked off and dimmed the lights for her to sleep on.
"To bed, my son," Tobias said.
Severus jolted in surprise. "Y-yes father," he said, staring a little and then rushing off to prepare for bed.
Just before slipping into bed, he heard his father speaking into the phone. "I fear she overdid herself, Mrs Granger. I tucked her in for the night. I'll have her call you first thing in the morning before we go to the museums."
"Eugh!" Lily exclaimed in horror. "What are they?"
Severus frowned as he held the squirmy pup. "One of my parents' pups. Want to hold one?"
"No!" Lily said adamantly. "They're so ugly!"
The pup in arms stilled as if it realised she was talking about it.
"Why would you get a puppy like that when you could have a German shepherd or labrador or one of those cute little French bulldogs?"
Severus gently set the pup down, and it scurried off toward its mum and the rest of the pups.
"These are strong family dogs," Severus said quietly. "They are long-lived and loyal, protective of their home."
"I think I've convinced mum and dad to let me get one of those exotic Bengal cats for school," Lily said.
Severus stilled. "Won't Petunia throw a fit?"
"She always does about everything," Lily complained.
"Why not get a cat from the Menagerie?" Severus asked.
"They don't have the look I want," Lily sniffed.
Severus' eye twitched as he caught the puppy pack dragging one of Lily's shoes away from the door, tearing it to pieces as it went.
"OH MERLIN!" Hermione exclaimed. "You're so adorable!"
The pup wagged his tail as he brought her a pair of slippers from the cupboard.
"I hope these aren't your mum's slippers," Hermione said.
Severus eyed the pup strangely. "No, those are the guest slippers."
Browl! The pup put his paws against her leg and looked up at her, begging in the most obvious manner possible.
Hermione picked him up and cuddled him. "Thanks, love," she cooed, snuggling the pup as he licked her chin. "I don't know why, but they always seem to make me feel so much better," she said. "What breed are they?"
Severus fidgeted awkwardly. "Mum calls them hell mutts."
"Aw," Hermione said. "You're not hellish at all, are you, love?" she cooed, snuggling the pup adoringly. "Maybe I can plead my case to your parents to get one one day, when I have a place of my own."
Severus grimaced. "Um, they have some rather tough dietary requirements."
Hermione frowned slightly. "Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to get my fix when I visit here."
Severus smiled tightly. "I suppose."
Hermione knocked on the Snapes' door, and her eyes widened as Severus' father filled the doorway.
"Hello, child," Tobias said, "I fear Severus is off traipsing in the wilds of Cokeworth today. Much to his mum's dismay, when she washes his trousers of mud later, I'm sure."
Hermione smiled. "I'm sorry I missed him." She wrinkled her face and sighed. "I fear I had an unexpected visitor last night."
She pulled out her rucksack and opened it, and a mischievous pup popped his head out from the bag, saw Tobias, and then shrank back into the sack, pulling it closed with his teeth.
Hermione burst out laughing. "I-I'm sorry. That was rude, but he—he's adorable!"
Tobias sighed. "Did he bite you?"
"Just a little. I'm actually getting used to it. He's never cruel or mean on purpose. He just gets over-excited," Hermione explained. "Please don't punish him. I'll admit I sleep better when the little blighter is near."
Tobias' expression softened. "Come in, child. Please. Stay awhile and have tea with us."
"Oh! I wouldn't want to impose—"
"You are welcome here, please," Tobias said, gesturing inside. "Come through."
Hermione smiled. "Okay. Thank you."
Sometime later, Eileen came into the sitting room to find Hermione passed out on the settee with her wriggly interloper and stalker pup curled up on her stomach—a look of serene peacefulness on her face.
Tobias came behind her, gently kissing her neck.
"She's special," Eileen said. "Are you going to tell the Council? They'll want to protect her."
Tobias nodded. "I'll tell them," he said quietly. "No one with such an affinity for hellhounds and Lethifolds should remain unsupported."
"And what about vampires, love?" Eileen asked.
"If you can love on a fire-breathing, curtain destroying, menace to all things stationary, blood lapping beast, vampires seem a bit tame in comparison, don't you think?" Tobias said.
Eileen chuckled. "Touché." She sighed. "What about Severus? He's shown no signs of the Obsession to her at all. If anything, he's utterly devoted to that Evans girl."
"She may not be his mate," Tobias said grimly, "but she will be someone's, I'm sure of it. As for our son—we can't be sure until he bleeds, and he has to be grown for that. Whatever this fascination he has means nothing if he cannot bleed for her. I worry more for his living long enough to grow up in that school of arrogant posturers and bullies."
"Are you going to pull him out?" Eileen asked.
"He insists there is nothing wrong," Tobias said. "He insists on being there for Lily Evans. All of his logical reasons seem sound enough."
"But you don't believe him."
"No." Tobias said with a sigh. "Something isn't right, but I cannot quite put my finger on it. The pups are super protective of her—" He looked toward Hermione sleeping soundly on the settee. "I think there is a curse upon her. Something draining. Something insidious. But I can't tell without taking her blood, and that is forbidden unless I have more solid proof of reason than a tingle in my gut. If she was my mate it would be different. If she was someone's mate for sure—it would be different. But for now all we have is suspicion and potential."
"Not enough to warrant asking for her blood," Eileen said sadly.
"No," Tobias said with a sigh. "I fear the only one who can get away with it is our little mischief maker, and if he is talking, he is only talking to her. His mind is closed to me."
"A familiar bond?" Eileen asked, her eyes wide.
"Unlikely," Tobias said. "An affinity to the Dark—but her body is human. It is not attuned. She will need to be Turned, and it will probably have to be Council Turning. With that sort of gift—it would be a volatile gift to have if only bound to the bloodline of her sire or mate. Only the wisdom of the Council could balance the experience needed to temper such a flow of Dark energy and not erase the base goodness within her."
Eileen whuffed softly. "That intimidates me. Being Turned by you was traumatic enough. All those memories. All those instincts. Drives. It was only my love for you that kept me afloat. I cannot even imagine having the blood of every elder on the Council in me at once."
"It's not as bad as you think," Tobias said. "It's a bit like having a large support group—with fangs."
"That isn't helping," Eileen said.
Tobias smiled. "Do you not love me, my mate?"
"You, yes," Eileen replied. "Scary mass of Council elders—no."
Tobias' expression softened. "I'm a member of that Council."
Eileen smiled at him. "You're forgiven for being a scary bastard."
Hermione cuddled with the snuggly pup. "I named him Viktor. It means 'champion'. I hope you don't mind," she said.
Tobias chuckled. "No, that is a good name," he said. "I think he likes it, if only because you are the one saying it."
Hermione flushed. "I guess Severus is out late again," she said sadly. "We were supposed to study tonight."
"Eileen and I can help you, if you like," he said. "It would be no trouble."
"If it would be no trouble—" Hermione said.
"It would not be," T0bias said. "It would—give us time to have a conversation somewhat overdue."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"You are not in trouble, child. Fear not," Tobias said with a warm chuckle. "Come, let us have a heart to heart, as they say."
Viktor nudged Hermione closer, and she steeled her bravery and went to sit with Severus' parents without his presence to reassure her. Viktor snuggled with her, providing the comfort she lacked, and she smiled. "Okay."
"So, you're vampires. Real ones, that is," Hermione said, chewing on the information.
Tobias nodded. "It is not something we reveal to everyone for every reason you can imagine, I'm sure," he said. "But you are quite—special. The hounds have accepted you. My Lethifold is two-timing with you. It shows a certain degree of compatibility. Something that the Sang—vampires—pay attention to. It means you very likely have a mate within our people, something we take very seriously."
"Is that like getting married?" Hermione asked.
"So much more than that," Tobias said. "It is a commitment for the life of the Sang—provided you aren't extremely idiotic and get yourself murdered—that can be a very, very long time."
"Would it be rude of me to ask how old you are?" Hermione asked.
Tobias chuckled. "Normally, I wouldn't go around asking a vampire how old they are—if they are volunteering it, that usually means they are powerplaying or trying to impress someone younger or put them in their place, but I know you are curious and for good reason. I was born in a time when Rome was young. At a time when the calendar was not nearly as accurate as they are now. In my coalition, we are all very old. We have been friends and allies for an equally long time—though, admittedly, we weren't always the best of friends. Society back then made all good Romans rather—unfriendly to outsiders. We weren't always that great to those born to it either. Rome was—complicated."
Tobias smiled. "It took me quite a long time to find my mate, and I knew instantly that was who she was because I began to bleed—my body began to produce and circulate blood again. An instant sign that I'd found the one who would be my mate. It is—the best sign we have that our intended is near. The next is the Obsession. Which is a sort of fixation that drives us to take care of and consummate the mating bond that ensures they Turn, or if they are already a vampire, complete the bond. Nothing is more sacred amongst my people. To find someone willing and able to stay by our side for our life is a gift to be both treasured and protected."
"Tobias followed me around like a duckling," Eileen said. "He would open doors, pull out chairs, and treat me like fine porcelain. But gods help you if some other male showed interest in me. They almost had their heads ripped off."
Tobias, perhaps for the first time Hermione had known him, actually flushed.
"The instinct is—powerful," Tobias said. "It is not instant love, but it tells us that it can be. That we need to temper our more base brutality into something more gentle. Perhaps, this is a genetic sort of imprint—a safeguard to make sure vampires treated their mates with kindness. Male, female—it is the same. It is easier for vampires that are already vampires because they already know what it is. But for those such as yourself, they must be prepared in case that it happens quite suddenly."
"Or you could be like me and meet him at a charity function and have him steal a dance and the entire evening after," Eileen said. "It was like I'd never known what attraction was until him. I thought I did, but—he had to teach me everything from the ground up. I didn't believe him, at first. We know that vampires exist in the magical world, but they don't exactly pin a badge on their chest announcing it."
"Why do you live in the Muggle world?" Hermione asked.
"When we had Severus, we moved to the Muggle world to allow him to grow up knowing mortality. All vampire children are born mortal. They grow up like any other human until they mature fully. When that happens, they self Turn. They do not need the ritual or blood to make it so. Cokeworth was as far from magical Wizarding culture as possible—and thus far easier to conceal ourselves as being like any other family. No one here likes to look too closely at any others lest we look too closely at them. Most like to pretend their life is better, safe in their chosen illusions. It was, oddly, a safer environment than being with Wizarding children and risk a magical accident that might prematurely activate part of his heritage before he was ready. He would not fully Turn as a child, but should he have the blood hunger as a toddler would be—rather inconvenient."
Hermione paused to imagine a vampiric toddler and shuddered.
"Exactly."
"It is possible to live in the Wizarding World and raise our children, but it is more complicated, and—I wanted Severus to know what it was like to live in both worlds because we live in both worlds." Tobias scratched his chin with his fingers thoughtfully. But that is why we are considering moving to the Department of Mysteries now that he is at Hogwarts most of the year. It is a more accepting environment for the otherly, beings, beasts, and so forth. He knows the Muggle world well enough now to serve his knowledge of both places that our living in Cokeworth is now moot. And—it will make it easier for you to visit."
"You don't have to worry about me—" Hermione protested.
"You are very important to us," Tobias said very seriously. "And it will allow you to learn more about us in between your studies to prepare you for the possibility that one or possibly more may wish to court you when you are grown."
"And we can help you study," Eileen said. "When our son is not here to do it himself."
Hermione brightened. "If you'd be okay with it. I'd like that."
Tobias smiled slightly. "We would. It is, as they say, a deal."
"Do you remember what we taught you about the bond between mates?" Tobias asked.
"You said it was very special. Significant," Hermione recalled.
"The bond between mates is indeed—special," Tobias explained. "For them, our hearts beat, and we produce blood again—meant to feed them. It is something that is impossible to ignore. And, while we can have more than one mate throughout the ages and even feed others once this happens, the bond is eternal. There is never any doubt of its power or its strength. From that point on, neither of them ever need ever feed off mortals again—the greatest gift of a shared immortality is the easement of the great hunger. It is why the bond is so sacred, a treasured thing. It is also why those with the potential to accept our kind are also well protected because the very thought of losing a potential mate for someone is utterly—abhorrent. Beyond criminal."
Hermione stared at him for a moment. "That is the sort of crime you thrall for."
Tobias nodded. "That is the gravity of the crime which earns it, yes."
"Why are you here?" Hermione asked.
"We came to check on you," Tobias explained. "One of our agents informed us that you were declining, and there was nothing to explain it. They knew you were under our protection. We withheld coming sooner because my son was here, and it was our hope that with him here, he would keep you safe from or at least inform us should your condition change for the worse, but—it has become clear he is compromised."
Hermione gave him a sad smile. "It's not Severus' fault. He loves another."
"Child, did he bleed?"
Hermione blinked at that. "He wasn't injured?"
"He means—like me," Sanguini explained with a wince. Crimson tears of blood streaked down his face. "I fear I did not have time for courtship or even a proper getting-to-know-you period. This can't be even remotely attractive."
Hermione gasped, but instead of cringing away, she reached out to him, her hand gently touching his face. "Are you okay?"
The moment her hand touched his cheek, a sudden rush of soothing warmth flowed into her very being along with a random assortment of memories.
"You—bleed for me?" Hermione whispered, her eyes moist.
"I fear it is—as much biological as it is emotional," Sanguini said. "And very hard to conceal. Denial is—somewhat useless, as you can imagine. Not to mention rather—futile."
Hermione hesitated, withdrawing her hand slightly. "I'm sorry. May I—touch you? I should have asked first."
"Dear one, you of all people may touch me just as much and wherever you desire," Sanguini said, bringing her hand to his mouth to alight a tender kiss on her knuckles. "You know me as Sanguini, but my name is Mihail. I wish we had more time to get to know each other before such a large decision had to be made, but I fear that your life hangs in the balance."
"What is—wrong with me?" Hermione asked.
"You have a curse upon you, child," Tobias said gravely. "A very Dark one. It has no counter like those that are deliberately cast. It was probably done in a moment of highly emotional unintentional magic, where the inner selfishness of the soul is laid bare. I did not sense it when you were with us when Severus first brought you to visit. But I do sense it now."
"So I'm dying then," Hermione whispered.
"Yes, child," Tobias said. "But if you can trust me, we can make it so you won't. Or rather, it will not be permanent."
"What can you do?"
"I will take you to the Council, and we will share your blood and share our blood in return equally. That way, you are not beholden to one sire over another. Then, you will sleep in the Earth with Mihail as he transfers life memories to you that there be no secrets between you. And that will allow the memories of our elders to seat themselves slowly so as to not overwhelm you. It is essential so you know the nuances of our society passively just as if you grew up with them. Mihail is an elder of the Council. One of my coalition—which you will join as his mate. Because of your natural affinity to the Dark, we must Turn you as a joint effort. Normally—a Turning is not so thorough. There are easier ways to create a vampire, but not one that joins us on equal footing, and that is what would need to be done in your case. Your affinity to the Dark creatures makes you a special case—a talent best tempered with the weight of the entire Council rather than just your mate."
Hermione's hand weakly clasped Sanguini's, keeping in contact with him. "What is this feeling? I know I should be freaking out, but—I feel so much calmer."
"He is an elder," Tobias explained. "Mihail is swallowing your fear so you can make a rational decision. Much like the hellhounds can do. What Viktor did for you."
Hermione gently squeezed his fingers in gratitude. "Thank you."
A curious Lethifold unfurled from Sanguini's shoulders and reached out to her.
"Hullo," Hermione said, her free fingers reaching out to touch the curious creature.
The Lethifold slithered up her arm and around her shoulders, wrapping itself around her supportively.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione said as she tugged on the Lethifold to try and give it back to him.
Tobias snickered into his hand. "I think your Lethifold knows what he wants."
Sanguini just shrugged. "Saves me from having to go into the jungle and wrestling one in a battle of wills for the honour of her hand, I suppose."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"Lethifolds are, traditionally, an engagement gift, given from a vampire to their mate as proof of their prowess and devotion," Tobias said, stifling a chuckle. "Though, normally the Lethifold doesn't just make the decision entirely on its own."
"Walter says he's sorry, but he's also—not sorry." Hermione blinked. "He's very warm."
Tobias and Sanguini exchanged amused looks and laughed together.
"I'm sorry this choice comes to you in such dire times, child," Tobias said apologetically. "We can give you a little time to decide, but not too long."
Hermione touched Sanguini's cheek, and he leaned into it. "And what happens to you, if I should choose death?"
Sanguini grasped her hand, holding it to his face as if to savour it and imprint it on his memory. "I would grieve you for the rest of my life, my dear. And all the memories we could have made together."
Hermione looked into his eyes, staring at the ring of crimson that spoked out like a radiant sun over his brown irises. "I would not condemn you to death, Mihail," she said softly, reading the truth in what he did not say. "I will have to trust that Lethifolds and fire-breathing puppies can't be wrong. I can only hope you will not have any regrets binding yourself to one as plain as I am."
Mihail let out his breath slowly. "I pray that you can see your true beauty through my eyes," he said. "And so much more."
"So what happens now?" Hermione asked.
"Take my hand, child," Tobias said kindly. "And we shall stabilise you so you may return with us to the Council."
Hermione took a deep breath and placed her hand in Tobias' as his talons closed around her smaller hand.
Severus felt—strange.
The further he walked away from the infirmary, the stranger he felt.
Uneasy.
Wrong-footed.
Part of him knew that Hermione was right. He had no voice to speak of, and thus whatever spellwork he might have to perform would have to be cast silently, and that required much more concentration.
Something that was exceedingly hard to do amidst a crisis situation.
However, Lily was waiting for him. After all his begging to see her. To apologise—to just get the same forgiveness that Potter did after his many escapades.
But Hermione asked for so little—surely he should keep her company and help her regain her strength?
He had to clear things up with Lily.
He owed her to prove his sincerity.
Hermione was safe in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey would be looking out for her.
He could always check on her in the morning.
The feeling in his stomach, however, moved around like eels on the inside.
Why did it matter so much for him to seek Lily's forgiveness when she had never, even once, admitted fault to him?
Why was she so bloody appealing to him when it was always him having to apologise? Him—always seeking absolution by kissing her feet.
He leaned up against the stone wall, letting out a frustrated sigh. He stared at his hands, flexing them.
Human.
He was still human.
At no point with Lily had he ever had a stirring of blood, but then again—
He was still mostly human.
Technically he was of age but vampirically, he was still very much a child. He'd always be a child to those the age of his father, but he'd not even shown a stirring of the blood hunger. Not even a twinge of his body responding to Lily the way it should.
The way he needed it to, to—
Prove that she was the one for him.
How could she not be? Every tender emotion he had was tied to her.
A small nagging doubt itched insistently at his grey matter. Not every one, it protested.
When he was with Hermione, his mind was almost—clear.
It was if he was on the cusp of a revelation and edge of an epiphany.
Every young vampire had experienced "the talk" at some point or another. The warning signs of the body's response to his mate. It was imperative that all young vampire children were made aware—even before they grew in their fangs. Even before they matured enough to have the blood hunger.
Just in case they needed to make a very quick concealment in a public place.
The older ones—older vampires that is—were the ones that had to be the most careful. They were the ones that lived a long time without the thrum of life that Severus and other young born-vampires had.
That window in their life when they lived, breathed, and had their own blood circulating through their bodies so they would grow up, mature, and hopefully survive long enough to fully Turn.
To an older vampire, the change was so immediately obvious that they often spontaneously bled tears of blood—something that the Muggle world tended to think was either you dying from some hemorrhagic fever like Ebola as your organs liquified or that you were a carrier of some greater plague. Either way, it was vital that every vampire knew the signs so not to go bleeding in public and inadvertently causing a public health crisis panic.
Then there was the explaining to someone if they weren't familiar with vampires that "hey, I might be super unattractive right now with blood running down my face, but it means I love you." Awkward.
Well, maybe not love depending on how fast it happened, but the body's natural way of saying this was the one to invest time in. Just in case you were wondering. Big red arrow. Blinking lights. All of that.
Even with all the exposure to Lily, he hadn't bled once, and he was starting to think that he wouldn't until he'd matured vampirically. But shouldn't he at least have had at least some sign by now?
Then, there was Hermione.
His family actually liked her.
The hellhounds loved her.
His father's Lethifold had a crush on her.
No, she was just a friend.
The Nation would probably take her in and protect her for someone to find her and make them deliriously happy.
A part of him scratched at his train of thoughts.
Why couldn't Lily touch him as freely as Hermione did? Be so expressive of her care and concern?
Why couldn't she be more like Hermione on the inside?
Immediately, he felt sick to his stomach.
That wasn't fair to Lily.
Lily had so many other amazing traits.
She was so talented.
Utterly beautiful.
Passionate in her beliefs.
He imagined her as a powerful immortal. Beautiful and commanding.
Surely she would learn to love the Dark denizens of the Nation just like Hermione had.
The pups would get used to her.
She'd see the beauty in the Dark world.
Severus sighed, squared his shoulders, and started walking to the meeting spot.
"What do you want, Sev?" Lily said, scowling fiercely at him. "I already told you that what you said was unforgivable, and I'm not changing my mind!"
"I'm sorry," he mouthed silently. His face twisted in frustration as his voice was still gone.
"It's true what they say about you," Lily snarled. "You're just a Dark wizard waiting for the opportunity to prove yourself better than everyone else. You know why I let them convince me to be here for this?"
Severus' eyebrows furrowed, confused. Them?
"Because I realised there is only one thing that will convince you to leave me the hell alone."
Severus stared at her. But—she had messaged him for the meet. If she hadn't wanted to meet, why send him the message?
"I'll sit here and listen to your sorry excuses one more time, and then I'm going to tell you exactly why all of your reasons aren't good enough," Lily said stonily. "Then I want you to get the hell out of my life, Sev."
Severus felt a stirring of discomfort in his stomach as the walls seemed to be coming in on him.
But he had to try.
He had to try and convince her he was sincere.
He just had to.
Wormtail easily slipped into the infirmary, smirking to himself for the mayhem that was going to happen. He sniffed out the curly-haired traitor that stood in the way of James getting Lily all to himself but most importantly, got her away from that slimy git Slytherin.
It wasn't hard to see that the weaker that bint became the stronger and more confident Lily became—and more apt to come around to their way of thinking. James thought he was imagining things, but he saw it.
He saw it because he'd always been treated like the lesser wizard. James, Sirius, and Remus (even with his scars) were much more attractive than he was. It pleased him when someone with a pretty face became less so because then they couldn't flaunt their natural good looks as being perfect anymore.
But he saw how red-headed Lily became more and more obsessed with her beauty and thus was more and more attractive to James. He saw how as Lily became stronger, Granger became weaker. Lily became more physically beautiful as Granger faded away, becoming paler—and instead of becoming more attractive like most witches, she was looking peaked and lacking in comeliness.
It was Dark magic.
He knew because he knew the feel of that pleasurable Darkness.
He knew because it gave him the same tingle that bordered on a near-orgasmic pleasure.
It was unmistakable.
It was why he liked hanging out with James, Sirius, and Remus so much. They called them pranks, but he knew better. He knew the pleasure of the Dark purpose and malicious intent, and he liked it.
He enjoyed watching students fall down the moving staircase after running into a well-placed slipping charm. He liked hearing the anguished screams of pretty-faced witches when they used a jar of tampered skin cream and broke out in hideous warts, pustules, and acne. When their clothes flew off in pieces after a perfectly-timed slicing hex. When their cauldrons blew up due to the stealthy addition of a special ingredient or two.
But this Granger business was something special.
Special because he knew Evans didn't know shite about her connection to Granger. Special because if someone did find out about it—all that pretty magic, all that appealing beauty—would flit right back to where it belonged. He would enjoy it either way.
He enjoyed the suffering of others because it wasn't him.
No one paid attention to him. It's why he was the first one to become an Animagus. People didn't think he was capable of it, and he proved otherwise. He wasn't sprouting ears and a tail when giving himself a good wank, and he definitely wasn't growing prongs like a stag. He could hide anywhere.
And Black could crow all he wanted about being away from his Dark family, but Peter knew Sirius was just as Dark from the spells he crafted to "get back at" Snivellus. No matter how much the git deserved to suffer. Sirius still used his family's dirty magic to get even.
Magic that sent shivers of pleasure down Peter's spine.
So when they sent him to make sure Granger was punished for protecting the git from their last glorious prank, well, he was glad to. She should never have brought down the wrath of Minerva McGonagall on her own house.
The little traitor.
Well, he had the perfect spell to deal with her. He was going to give the spell Lily had unknowingly cast a little extra push.
The beauty of it—is that it wasn't even his spell that was going to do its work. It was the spell that was already there.
Peter waited in the shadows for Pomfrey to leave for another area, and then he sneaked into the next. The first area and even the second didn't house Granger, so he figured she was being sequestered in the larger private treatment room Pomfrey used when having to treat serious ailments, full body conditions, and as a quarantine for highly contagious illnesses like dragon pox.
Why Granger rated such privileges, he didn't know, but he'd be happy to educate her about how privilege wouldn't save her from their retribution.
Peter squeezed under the door, his eyes bulging a bit as he did so, and emerged on the other side with a soft pop. He scurried over to the shadows and stood on his rear legs to survey the room.
The room was quiet save for the soft sound of her shallow breathing, and Peter's whiskers twitched. He saw she was facing the other direction. Good.
She'd never see it coming.
He assumed his human shape, walking closer to the bed to line his spell up with her spine. He grinned to himself and whispered the spell.
And a dark shape of the living shroud rose from the bed, rows and rows of sharp teeth glinting even in the dimness of the room. It moved toward him in a flash of movement.
Peter staggered backward, casting frantic spells at the Lethifold—
And a pale hand closed around his neck and slammed him up against the wall with a deafening crack.
Peter's eyes widened in horror as a hot stream of urine trickled down his legs. The glowing crimson and gold eyes stared into him as pale lips pulled back from shining teeth.
"You have attacked the mate of a vampire lord, mortal," Tobias growled as his eyes flashed. "That makes you ours." He nicked his finger with his fang and swiped the blood across Peter's lips.
His fingers tightened around Peter's throat as he jerk-shook him once and then thrust him out.
Amelia Bones came out of her Disillusionment as she put him in magical bindings, a grim expression of disgust on her face.
"You will tell Madam Bones every single transgression you have ever done since you first used magic, mortal, in excruciating detail," Tobias ordered. "And you will answer any question she poses you with brutal, unadulterated honesty. When that is done, you will follow any directions she may give you, but you will not attempt any escape, or I will find you. And life as you know it will be far, far worse than you could ever imagine."
"Y-yes, master," Pettigrew simpered. "Of course, master."
Tobias' lip curled with disdain.
"When he is done being punished by your Wizengamot," Tobias said. "The Council will expect his immediate presence."
Amelia nodded curtly. "Of course."
He should have seen it coming, Severus realised as he was lying battered and bruised in the dirt after having had a stag barrel out of the forest and trample him only to have a snarling dog tear into his arm.
But then something very odd happened.
The moment the dog tore into his arm, his blood flowing out of him like a scarlet river, the canine stood there frozen with his arm in his mouth, staring blankly into space like one of those Muggle shows where some hypnotist used a watch to mess with someone else's mind.
The stag was turning around to have a go at him again, and all Severus could do was mentally scream, "NO! STOP!" and the shaggy black dog promptly leapt at the stag and started tearing into him instead of Severus.
Confused, Severus couldn't quite understand what was going on save that while he'd been talking to Lily, he had suddenly been pounded into the dirt by a stag and then a dog.
The stag was hastily backing up, using its antlers to stave off the dog's vicious attack, but then the Whomping Willow decided to join in the fray and punted the distracted stag into the lake with a loud crack, whoosh, and giant sploosh!
Severus lay in the dirt and grass, grimacing in pain, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. The dog returned and sat beside him, staring blankly into space.
What the hell?
His voice still banished into the void, Severus gave a silent groan as he tried to sit up.
There were regrets, and he immediately lay back in the dirt.
It would be great if the dog could maybe go fetch a neutral professor like McGonagall or even Slughorn in some great show ala Lassie or Flipper, demonstrating that it somehow understood what was going on and would go get help.
The dog promptly tore off across the green as if on a mission.
The last thing he heard as the blackness of Oblivion caught him was Lily's anguished scream.
Severus woke to find himself staring up at the infirmary ceiling—a rather familiar sort of view from the many times he'd had to be there. He felt that sensation of being watched, and he turned his head with a grimace as his vision focused blearily at his father sitting in the nearby chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as if in deep contemplation.
It was a position he often used when sitting Council—that same aura of sombre menace mixed with grim determination that had told many a young vampire that they should consider their next words very, very carefully.
Even scarier, his father's eyes were a deep colour of fresh blood mixed with flashes of gold—an unmistakable proof that his most terrible power was currently lurking very close to the surface. There was a smear of blood half-dried on the corner of his mouth that he hadn't even tried to conceal, and that was more terrifying than if he'd just been watching him tear something to pieces.
He'd once removed a vampire's head from their shoulders on the spot when they'd threatened one of his Line's children in a motion that would forever be ingrained into his memory of his father's terrifying power.
Normally, Tobias was able to appear quite human—better than most—to the point where people thought he really was a Muggle, utterly magicless and powerless. They underestimated him often—until they couldn't possibly ignore the truth.
The incredible roll of power, however, alerted him to the fact that something very profound had happened, he'd been in a battle with a vampire of equal power that caused him to actually bleed, or he'd succumbed to the hunger which was highly unlikely since he had Eileen.
"Father?" Severus managed to croak out, his voice raspy but at least understandable.
"Why did you not inform me of the direness of your situation with your bullies?"
Severus swallowed hard, feeling like he was trying to swallow a crystal ball. "I—wanted to handle it myself."
Severus saw the micro twitch of his father's upper lip—so small he would have missed it had he not been very used to watching his father's smallest of tells. He didn't believe him. Not even in the slightest. Even if part of it was
He couldn't stop looking at the blood on his father's mouth. Who had he fed from? Did he kill someone?
Then, he saw it.
A stain of blood on his normally immaculate clothing. His buttons were undone and his chest was showing, and there was a line of dried blood where he'd clearly drawn a talon across his own neck.
Another vampire would have closed the wound or at least taken blood until it healed. If he had made a thrall, it would have been a nick on the finger and a swipe of it across the mouth. Just one drop was enough to thrall a mortal for the elders.
His father had Turned someone.
It was the only thing that could possibly explain the—mess.
He tried to think of who at Hogwarts Tobias could possibly have valued enough to Turn right on the school grounds and came up empty. The majority of mortals instinctively feared vampires, and without some preparation the chances of getting someone to agree to it was very slim.
As if to answer his question, his father gave a slow blink, a flash of gold magic trickling from his eyes. "Why did you not inform us of Hermione's increased decline?"
Lily.
Lily.
Lily.
How could he admit—Lily—that he'd been so worried about what—LilyLilyLily—thought that he'd—Lily—been unable to realise that he should have informed—Lily—his father at once.
Hermione was kindred—Lily.
Severus clutched his head. Why couldn't he think straight? Why couldn't he stop thinking about Lily? He showed no other sign of bleeding for her. What was wrong with him?
"Father," he rasped. "I can't—I can—help me."
He stared at his father with pure anguish in his eyes, even as his thoughts once again returned to Lily.
Lily would surely understand.
Lily would help him!
"I'm sorry, my son," Tobias said quietly.
Sorry? Severus clutched his head. Sorry for what?
Tobias was on him in an instant, and Severus felt the sharp pain of his fangs in his throat. He felt his father's roll of power like molten rock, lava burning through his vessels, cutting through him like a hot knife through butter. His mind folded under his father's will. He jerked away from his neck, bit his wrist, and unceremoniously shoved it into Severus' mouth, struggling against Severus' instinctive protest and frantic flailing before he swallowed the blood.
And then, much as if a switch had been flipped, Severus felt the pressure within his mind begin to ease. He let out a crying groan as pain and pressure he hadn't realised he was even feeling suddenly lifted and dissipated like mist.
Just before an intense hunger slammed into him like an aeroplane at Mach 9 straight into a mountain range. He cried out, crumpling to the floor as his hands twisted, dark claws emerging through his fingertips as he dug them into the stone floor with a harsh scraping sound. His mouth opened wide, his jaw cracking as fangs emerged from his gums, twisting, jerking out from the sockets for their virgin emergence. Blood filled his mouth from where he had bitten his own tongue, dripping from his clenched teeth as a wave of convulsions ripped through his body as a current of raw power shot through him, burning and freezing as it went.
Severus screamed, the overwhelming force of the unnatural Turning being anything but gentle. It should have been a gradual process. It should have been like an awakening, but this—this was like the change of a cursed werewolf where the body fought against the forcible alterations rather than accepting them. He was being torn asunder, ripped to shreds atom by atom and then reformed. His body struggled to remain what it had known itself to be his entire life—violently wishing to remain how it was rather than evolve.
It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours.
It felt like an eternity.
And when the pain finally eased, all he could feel was the intense, gut-twisting hunger.
Hearing a thousand heartbeats.
Seeing veins and arteries through walls—
He snarled, his fangs lengthening as all there was—was hunger. Gut-twisting need.
As his body finally completed its physical transformation, he looked to the open window as his brain calculated leaping out of it to find a meal—
Tobias' talons closed around his face, and his power flooded over him like an ice-cold shower. "Sleep."
Severus jerked once and collapsed, utterly down for the count.
Tobias sat in the chair beside his son's bed, fingers steepled once more as his jaw tightened. A single crimson tear slid down his cheek.
A/N: I have to cut this thing up because it's become a monster.