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
Chapter Four
Patience is not simply the ability to wait - it's how we behave while we're waiting.
Joyce Meyer
Severus stood very still.
As Lily was led out of the Council chambers looking like she'd been run over by a trolley. Gabriel bowed his head to the Council's judgement to allow him to decide Lily's fate. Severus had decided it was only right as it had been Gabriel she had insulted him the most with her very recent foolish actions.
Severus found he just wanted to wash his hands of her as she was the prime example of what happened when someone held onto a blind grudge long after it lost relevance. And, in many ways, he realised that he pitied her. She was so caught up in her personal delusions that when reality came crashing down, she lost her sense of identity, and what remained was but a shell of what she could have been.
Hermione had recused herself from the judgement, believing herself to be too close to the time when Lily was a part of her life to be impartial. It was something that took what little wind Lily had right out of her sails. She couldn't even call it bias because Sanguini, too, recused himself from the judgement as well.
Severus felt sympathy for Gabriel who was trying to be as fair as possible for someone who was not, unlike James, serving for a specific penance for a crime against the Nation—at least until the point when she'd left Potter stunned and unable to defend himself from Bellatrix' tender mercies.
At least before Hermione and the team of Aurors and Unspeakables had swept the street on their way to the tavern.
For that crime—or failure of the test of trust even without the attack on James Potter—Gabriel agreed to Thrall her just enough to ensure she would not betray the Nation again. From the look on Gabriel's face, Severus knew the young vampire felt the weight of that responsibility greatly, even if he only used his power over her to ensure she didn't pull a runner and either get herself killed, expose the Nation, or both.
And Potter—
Severus hated to admit it, but Potter looked utterly destroyed by Lily's betrayal. He also had to realise that his grudge against Potter was part of the poison afflicting his life, and seeing the man so broken by Lily's betrayal made him realise that he had, in many ways, grown up and shown more responsibility than he'd ever done in school.
And with that revelation, Severus felt the weight he hadn't realised was holding him down being lifted from his shoulders. He understood, at last, what his father had been trying to instil in him from the beginning of the weight of responsibility he would face as an immortal. Like a human shed of childhood to become an adult, the vampire had to leave behind some of the pettiness that came with a mortal's shortened lifespan lest it eat away at his ability to pass through the ages without an entire Muggle baggage claim's worth of problems.
If Potter could grow up, then Severus had to do more than be a business owner. He had to live life instead of encasing himself in a shell of bitterness.
As he walked back from the Council chambers he stopped in the night gardens to enjoy the evening air and the lack of uncomfortable sunlight. While he wasn't going to spontaneously combust like in the movies, sunlight was uncomfortable and made his skin itch like mad if he wasn't wearing some sort of protective skin cream.
Much to his surprise, Gabriel was there, stretched out on the green as one would on a blanket in a field in the sun, staring off into the starry night sky. He really couldn't blame the man for wanting to find some inner peace after all that had gone on that day. He hadn't asked for the increased responsibility, but it had come knocking anyway.
"Mind if I join you?" Severus asked.
Gabriel startled, his eyes widening as he realised who it was. "Plenty of room out here," he said awkwardly.
Severus wasn't a part of the Council, but he was Tobias' son, and that tended to make people like Gabriel super nervous. It didn't help that he'd practically jumped down his throat at the apothecary like a right cockwomble.
Severus sat on the bench, laying back on it to stare upward. "I feel I must apologise for my abysmal behaviour the other day," he said. You did not deserve my rancour, and I haven't felt quite right about myself since my return to the Nation. I should not have taken out my frustration with my own life on you when you did nothing to deserve it."
Gabriel was silent for a time. "I did not realise what had happened to you until the Council called out Ms Evans on her many transgressions before handing over the decision of her punishment to me," he said. "I am—sorry you had such a rough go of it because of her. I cannot even imagine living with a curse of that nature. To have one's life jerked away from you in the most unnatural of ways. At least I was offered Turning by the Nation with full knowledge of what it entailed—well, to the best of anyone's ability to know what to expect without experiencing it first hand. To be mentally subjugated—"
Gabriel sighed. "I had tried very hard not to have to thrall her. Maybe I saw her as a fixer-upper since it seemed to work so well with Mr Potter. I am struggling with knowing that it must be done lest she bring unwanted attention to our Nation. I wanted her to see the beauty of this place like I had before I Turned. But with my brother coming—I cannot allow her to be a danger to him."
Severus sighed. "She was always quite headstrong. At the time, I found her to be fiery and powerful. I had no idea that she was stealing magic and even life from my other childhood friend. I had hints, of course, looking back, and so many times I could have brought it to my father's attention, but they seemed so trivial then—until they weren't. Until I was so smitten I couldn't see my arse from a hole in the ground. I endangered my friend. I failed her when she needed me the most. The son of a vampire lord—incapable of solving his own bloody problems."
"Your father is—intimidating," Gabriel confessed.
"Do you know what Hermione did the first time she met him?"
"Do tell," Gabriel said, interest piqued.
"She wrapped her arms around his neck, placed her head on his shoulder, and let him carry her to bed because the hellhounds had overdosed her on relaxation."
Gabriel was silent and he let out a chuckle. "That's pretty amazing."
"She's always been amazing," Severus said. "I was just too blind to see it. My father saw it. From the start. She knew she was special. Even when she wasn't meant for him—he knew she was meant for someone in the Nation. How could she not when she tamed hellhounds and Lethifolds and even, perhaps, Lord Tobias himself."
Gabriel shuddered. "The hounds make me nervous. They are terrifying."
"They are hellhounds," Severus said dryly. "They took a liking to Hermione immediately, and she to them. They were under a glamour at the time, but it didn't matter. Even when she knew what they were, they had her so wrapped in their tails, she couldn't imagine life without them."
"I wish I could say it is because I'm such a young vampire, but they just—really scare me," Gabriel said. "Maybe, I'm more of a cat person."
"Flaming hellcats?" Severus asked, amused.
"No, gods—" Gabriel said with feeling. "The normal moggie kind. I don't even want a Kneazle. Kneazles are far too clever for their own good and normal cats are crazy enough."
Severus chuckled. "However did you get approached by the Sang?"
"I was studying to be a healer," Gabriel replied. "I worked hard, got a great opportunity and a position apprenticing with Healer Hippocrates Smethwyck. But, I was a Muggleborn, and there were a couple of jealous purebloods who badly wanted my spot. They made my life a living hell every day. Finding me when I was alone. Never getting caught. And they'd always catch me off guard no matter how hard I tried to be extra vigilant. Straight to the back, so I couldn't ever see their faces. Smethwyck eventually found me bleeding out on the floor when he had turned back to get a file he'd forgotten in his office. I'd been poisoned, as it happens. With Nagavina—that deadly flowering vine that grows in Albania. Probably the most lethal poison with no cure to be had."
Gabriel sighed. "Smethwyck is well-known to the Nation, and so he sent his Patronus to Lord Nikolai. Oh, gods, I saw him and thought Death himself had come to carry me to the Underworld. Instead he gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. Turn and continue my studies to spite them all and become a healer amongst the Sang or he would make my death as quick and painless as possible—Nagavina is not a—kind or gentle sort of poison. It results in a very protracted, very painful kind of death as your blood slowly turns to acid and scalds you from within. I would have been screaming in agony long before I died."
"I'd come here from Australia to learn Healing—I didn't want to fail," Gabriel admitted. "I had so much to do. So much to give, but I didn't want to die. Undeath seemed like the better choice. But Lord Nikolai was not the monster I'd seen as I came to in my delirium. He was patient, kind even. He gave me enough memories in my Turning so I didn't fall flat on my face or botch a feeding, but I recognised that I didn't have the stamina for any more than that. My mind was too full of the living to accept what he might have given me. Did you know he was a healer himself? Not just now. Back then—so long ago. So, I Turned, made a rather 'miraculous recovery' and returned to Smethwyck's side to complete my training. And those two purebloods that had tormented me—let's just say I saw the other side of Lord Nikolai and the sting of Sang justice. He thralled them both and had them spill their guts of every single deed they had done since they had shat their first nappies, and they were sentenced to rot in Azkaban for life for all the other young apprentices they had murdered before me on their path to greatness. And once they were there, he gave them their minds back so they could fully appreciate their new circumstances. They were murdered there—in Azkaban. By bigger, even more vicious dogs than they were."
"That's why I wish to bring my brother here," Gabriel explained. "He's extremely talented but quite fragile. He'd be safe here. Learning the secrets of long lost civilisations. He's a historian, you see. And he was never a rebel or troublemaker. He'd never see the Council chambers because he was an idiot."
Severus smiled slightly. "You know my story for the most part, but what you might not know is that James Potter had a bit of a gang at Hogwarts that would torment me at every possible opportunity. Every day. They would always manage to find me. Alone. Unwary. I didn't know then that Lily had already stolen that aura of attraction that drove them to seek out her attention in any and every way possible, but that is not to say they were innocent, either. Even before Lily's curse, they were utterly relentless against anything Slytherin—my house at Hogwarts. There are four. You are segregated upon arrival supposedly based on your inner traits."
"Sounds terribly prejudiced to me," Gabriel observed. "What child is fully formed in conscience or moral fibre or even traits not yet fully gained? The brain is not even fully matured until one is much older. Sometimes, when one is older, only then traits such as psychopathy and other mental disorders can be fully considered set. Mind you, there are certain exceptions."
"Perhaps," Severus agreed. "I found that once you were in a certain house, we were trained to consider all members of one house as indicative of traits they were historically known for, even when they weren't. Even when, in the end, it just served to, as you say, segregate us from truly accepting others without prejudgement."
Severus frowned. "Maybe that is why my father felt such a need to protect Hermione as a child. She was so pure. Trusting. Non-judgemental. She did not judge the hellhound or Lethifold as evil just because someone else said they were. She valued them for what they were to her, and since they were kind to her, she never had reason to believe they were anything but capable of it. She had no reason to believe I was anything but her friend until I proved to be anything but."
Gabriel frowned. "Forgive me for saying this, but—if I know anything of Lady Garmr, it is that she is both unfailingly fair and compassionate. She serves as a bridge between the Lines—no small feat. Perhaps, it is not about her forgiving you, but you forgiving yourself first. For being fallible. For being—human—of sorts. As much as we can be, at least."
"I'd like us to try and work together," Severus said. "If my original behaviour didn't completely turn you away."
"Lady Garmr said not to take your initial reaction too personally," Gabriel confided. "I'd originally wanted to set you on fire."
"I would have deserved it," Severus mused.
"I would like to work with you," Gabriel said after a moment. "I have an idea for a long-acting sun cream that will keep the sun-induced itchiness at bay."
"That sounds like a very good idea," Severus said. "Have you tried basing with jojoba oil and shea butter? They both absorb well into the skin and are receptive to potion bases. Muggles do love their vitamin E as well."
Gabriel brightened. "I was thinking of adding honey to the base as well. Perhaps that wonderful Manuka honey from New Zealand. It has great healing properties all on its own."
"Sounds good," Severus said, sitting up and extending his hand. "We should work on it."
Gabriel took his head. "You have a deal."
"You can come to the apothecary tomorrow, and we'll carve out a quarters for you upstairs for those times when you find yourself brewing until even the owls are asleep."
"Finally someone who understands," Gabriel whuffed. "You have no idea. You start a project and you're hearing birds of the early morning."
Severus chuckled. "Then, maybe you should have time to sort out this thing with Lily and your home here. It will give me time to do the proper enchantments and tune the wards so you are not vapourised."
Gabriel raised a brow. "Appreciated."
"We'll try for next week, but you can let me know when you have your affairs in order. I know from experience that dealing with Lily—even when I got on with her, was a different sort of exercise in restraint. On every level."
Gabriel snorted. "I'm glad we had this talk, Severus."
Severus found himself smiling, if but a little. "Me too."
The clicking of claws alerted both vampires to a visitor as Viktor padded in with a squirmy little pup clasped between his jaws. He walked over to Gabriel, thumped the pup down in his lap, gave Gabriel the glare that said "hurt this pup and I'll murder you" and then padded off, tail looped in victory.
Gabriel's expression was one of intense constipation as he stared at the squirmy pup.
The pup stared up at him adoringly and wrapped her tail securely around Gabriel's arm.
NIP!
Sharp puppy teeth laid into his hand, and she licked at the blood greedily.
Gabriel shuddered and tentatively stroked the pup's warm head, and his eyes grew far away. "Hello, Aara," he whispered.
Severus smirked. "Well, now you're doomed."
Gabriel picked up the pup and snuggled her, unable to resist his enslavement to Aara's soulful presence. "I accept my fate of damnation," he said with a smile.
"Probably a good thing, yes, " Severus said approvingly. "Hellpuppies have no shame whatsoever and do not take no for an answer."
Severus' eyes widened as he suddenly realised that where there were hellhounds, there was probably their chosen mistress, but when he looked around the night garden, there was not even a trace of her to be found.
Gabriel neatly arranged the salves on the shelves and closed his eyes with a sigh of satisfaction. "You will contact me if there are any problems, James," he said.
"Of course, Master," James said, bowing his head slightly.
"If there are any orders, I will check them when I return," Gabriel said.
"Yes, Master," James said.
"Please make sure all the stock is properly shelved and labelled, so when stock is taken, you have a list so we get reimbursement from the Council for those taken for the clinic."
"I will, Master," James agreed.
"If you have the time, please double check Ms Evans' section of personal care items and make sure they are all properly labelled as well," Gabriel said. "Do not feel that you must do it all today. If it gets busy, it can wait."
James nodded. "I will keep you apprised, Master."
"You have done very well this week, James," Gabriel said approvingly. "You may have the weekend off to do whatever you will."
"I would like to go to the Kindred Quidditch games, if that is alright with you, Master," James said.
"Very well," Gabriel said. "You may take a pouch of galleons to cover your expenses. Enjoy your time watching people attempt to not fall off their brooms while falling off their brooms."
James grimaced. "It's not quite that bad."
Gabriel arched a brow. "I've patched up those bones more times than I care to remember."
James winced. "Can't hide anything from healers."
"Not really, no," Gabriel said serenely. "Enjoy your time, and take a few vials of sobering potion with you just in case someone gets—"
"I will, Master," James said with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
Gabriel nodded and walked out of the Nation shop and away.
When James turned, he saw that Lily was looking at him with a scrunched up face.
"Don't be like that, Lil," James said with a sigh. "You'd get privileges too, if you'd just do what he needs you to do before he has to actually tell you to do it."
"Since when did you decide to act all obedient to a bunch of bloodsuckers, James?" Lily said accusingly.
"I'm not acting, Lil," James snapped. "I'm being a responsible adult. I'm doing my job, and since I am doing it well, Master Gabriel rewards me for it. I'm polite to him because it's easier than carrying around hate and grudges—and because if you are disrespectful around the elders or even a regular vampire with more power than you, you're going to get your face scraped across a wall. Or worse. Or I can choose to be civil, and that same vampire might do me favour of letting me run some errands and make a few extra galleons so I can afford to go out and spend some time with my mates, watch a Quidditch game, and even go out to the pub."
"So you can escape," Lily said bitterly.
James shook his head. "No, to just relax and have fun when I'm not doing my job like a normal person. This is my home, Lily. I did this to myself, but Master Gabriel has given me every opportunity to better myself and earn the right to a respectable life after what I did, and I will owe him for that for the rest of my life. He took a chance on me when I truly deserved to end up as one of those other thralls they have picking the weeds out from between the flagstones in the night gardens with tweezers during the day. I could have been given to one of the elders. Or to one of those seriously scary ones down on the east side that never bothered to adapt to the modern time. I would have been beaten. Used. Abused. Possibly even whored out. I could have been Turn-thralled, forced to Turn and made a true slave. But I was lucky in that they chose to put me with Master Gabriel—a genuinely fair and considerate master, and so were you. I think you should think on that instead of fixating on life's petty injustices because they could have let you die in that tavern, Lil, but they didn't. And all you can think of is that your life is unfair."
James shook his head. "Yes, I'm a thrall, Lil. Just like you, but we're not one of those pathetic ones they Turned and thralled so they would suffer for all eternity while screaming on the inside. They could have. And if it wasn't for Sirius accidentally thralling himself in his desire to make Severus bleed, we might have killed him, and I'd be down there licking the flagstones clean with my tongue. And if Peter would have succeeded in what he wanted to do—make your spell over her and Severus stronger, it would have killed her, and it wouldn't have mattered that what you did was an accident. You'd have been Turned, encased in crystal, and left in the Garden of Repentance for the daylight to burn you every day so your screams would fill the days and whimpers would fill the night. Or worse."
"So maybe you should think about just how lucky you are, so very lucky that none of that happened to you, and that Lady Garmr is a kind, fair vampire instead of a vindictive, petty one. With her influence, she could have just as easily thrown you to the wolves."
James scoffed and walked into the next room to start on his inventory and stock checking as Lily stubbornly set her jaw and tried desperately to hold on to her paranoid delusions.
Dear Ms Evans,
I fear there is nothing I can do to help you in this matter, my dear. It is beyond my ability to help. The moment you became a victim thrall of a vampire, even as a child, your fate was at the determination of the Undead Nation.
I have done much research in this in the hopes to find you relief, but as I understand it, you are now in the hands of a vampire named Gabriel. He is a well known healer with many accolades as to his skill and his demeanour. You could not ask for a better vampire to be overseeing your time there.
Despite my attempts to quash it, Ms Skeeter has continued to paint you to the masses as being worse than the Dark Lord, even to the point of her blaming you for putting his head on a pike in the middle of the tavern in Knockturn Alley. Even if I were to remove you from the Undead Nation, I would have to insist you remain at Hogwarts, and even then, you would have to be sequestered within lest the students catch wind of you. The moment they did, and you know how rumours fly at Hogwarts, I would have not only the DoM and the Undead Nation at my door but troubled parents demanding your blood. This is not the kind of environment I would wish upon you.
My recommendation is to make the best of where you are. It is, at the very least, far safer for you in their custody than in Wizarding Britain. As I understand it, both James and Sirius have become respectable members of society, though Mr Pettigrew is apparently completely unreleasable. He remains, by his own admission, too Dark to be trusted without a jailor.
I can only wish you the best in settling in where you are, and I hope that Gabriel's favour remains with you.
Sincerely,
APWB Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Marlene's eyes widened as she caught sight of the one who was supposed to be Hermione sitting in the gardens, a ginormous hound that looked like a daemonic hound of Baskerville crossed with a prehistory beast just laying beside her as it chewed on what might have been the largest rawhide bone in existence.
Hermione looked up and she smiled—and that was when Marlene realised it was still Hermione. That smile was unmistakable.
"Marlene," she said with a warm smile. "It is not every day that someone goes through all the red tape required to visit the Nation. How are you?"
"Weary," Marlene said honestly. "I just finished talking down a wizard who wanted to throw themselves off the Ministry building because some cow named Dolores Umbridge sabotaged their career."
"That sounds awful," Hermione said, gesturing to the seat.
Marlene eyed the hound with suspicion.
Hermione chuckled. "This is Viktor," she said. "Viktor, this is Marlene. Be nice to her please."
Viktor eyed her and then went back to chewing on his rawhide bone, his tail wrapped around Hermione's arm like an invasive Kudzu.
"He's huge, but he's a real softie," Hermione promised.
Marlene eyed the hound with wariness as she sad. "Uh huh."
"You were always so good at listening to the people around you," Hermione said. "It doesn't surprise me you went into social work for the Wizarding community."
"In school, it was just me listening to everyone complain," Marlene said. "Seemed like everyone did but you."
"Oh, I'm sure I had my fair share of complaints," Hermione said.
"Well, you never told me about them," Marlene said. "Not like Alice who told me everything from her hair to her hangnails to what sexual position she tried with Frank—oh Merlin, sorry. Too much information."
Hermione laughed. "Believe me, I get a constant feed of elder gossip up here," she said tapping her head with one talon. "Nothing you say could possibly top that. What brings you to our home?"
Marlene sighed. "Dumbledore asked me to see if I could talk sense into Lily. She's been writing to him, asking him to come and rescue her. He's been trying to tell her that it's not a nice place out there for her thanks to Skeeter and her like. They blame her for everything from the bad weather to being fired from a job. It doesn't matter if it has nothing to do with what she did as a child. People just don't care. He said there is a good chance she could have a fairly normal life here, and he'd appreciate it if I got to see it for myself and tried to convince her that it was okay. But I have no idea how to even go about it, and I hoped that maybe you could help me get my feet wet here so I don't end up just blowing smoke out my wand."
"Well, since you're already sworn on the confidentiality Oath, I can take you to our reading library," Hermione suggested. "I can introduce you to a few vampires willing to let you shadow them. The younger ones are usually more apt for such things. They connect better to the current generation as well. I'm afraid if you talk to me, I would probably give you a very elder answer thanks to all the stuff galavanting around in my head. If you want to see how things truly are, you have to get to know those living it outside of the Council. But if you ever want to know what one of the elders says to you and if you should go bury yourself in the desert, you can come to me for assistance."
Marlene's head jerked up, terrified, but then she saw Hermione's amused smile. "Hermione! You're so horrible!"
Marlene turned serious. "Is it true you were Turned by the entire Council?"
"Not all of them. Some objected to me because they resented any more power going to the Lines of Lords Rada, Tobias, and Sanguini. Each representative of the Council is a head of a Line. A Line being multiple generations that come from one originator. Not necessarily the original founder—but the oldest living member of said line. Vampires are immortal and ageless, but they can be destroyed either by other vampires more powerful than they are, by their own hand, or by having very bad luck. We are fortunate that a lot of the more self-serving and mercenary vampire Lines had perished or been absorbed into one of the existing ones," Hermione explained. "I was Turned by the Council majority because I was to be mated with a member of the Council who was also a member of a dominant coalition—an alliance of vampires that have worked together, officially, for a very, very long time. To ensure my survival to not be a liability to my mate because of my delicate health, but also to cement an alliance between the current Council, I was Turned by all of them so I have an investment in all of the Lines' survival. But in all honesty, it was the best way to ensure I survived. The more Lines that participated in my Turning, the less strength the Dark curse had upon me."
"So a normal vampire—" Marlene trailed off.
"Usually only has one Sire," Hermione said. "It is far less complicated. More if one is entering into a Triumvirate and isn't already a vampire to begin with. Most vampires, well, the older ones traditionally, could and did have multiple mates. It is—a sort of anchoring in the world that keeps things as dynamic and healthy as possible. Less boring. When you live as long as an elder, jealousy over time spent with one over another seems strangely moot."
"It's odd, I thought—" Marlene said.
Hermione tilted her head.
"Are you and Severus together, too?" Marlene asked.
Hermione's eyes cast down and her eyes closed. Gold magic trickled out from under them. "No. Many things have happened to get in the way of exploring that."
"Sorry, I just thought—" Marlene began.
"When a vampire finds their mate—someone etched in time as one that will complement them—they bleed," Hermione said.
"They have a period?" Marlene said, horrified.
Hermione's face screwed up slightly. "Erm, no, nothing quite like that. They produce blood, like a living person. They don't need it to survive, but they produce it to feed their mate. Unlike humans, it's pretty obvious when someone is compatible. They experience a surge of emotion and often shed blood tears, the first most obvious sign short of actually being able to bleed that something had changed."
"But I saw Severus bloody a lot," Marlene objected.
"He was still immature, as vampires go," Hermione said. "Once they reach maturity, they lose the ability to bleed when they Turn—the moment their heritage kicks in and they become true vampires. So if they're bleeding, they've been around someone they will probably fight tooth and nail for, usually. Like with anyone, some vampires are more skilled at denial than others."
"So, if a vampire starts bleeding around you—" Marlene said.
"Provided there isn't someone else there to bleed for, they're probably your mate," Hermione said. "Why? Are you looking to be mated to a vampire?"
Marlene flushed. "It's kind of romantic—knowing who you're meant for. Someone who can care for you for a lifetime."
Hermione's lips tugged into a smile. "Poor Sanguini," she said. "With blood streaming down his face, he tried to tell me he was sorry that our first meeting was so terribly un-sexy. At least for a non-vampire's first introduction to potential love."
"Is it love?" Marlene asked wistfully. "True love?"
"Possibly, I suppose," Hermione said. "But the Sang see it as the ultimate compatibility. That doesn't always start with love, but it forms much easier knowing that it can. For me it was pretty easy. I felt the power of his devotion when he shared his blood with me. It was like filling up a cup I hadn't realised was empty. I could not help but love him. We just had to wait for any physical expressions of love until after I came out of the Earth."
Marlene gave her a look.
Hermione chuckled. "After I was given blood, I was buried in the ground with my mate so his presence would anchor me while my mind absorbed all of the collective memories. It's different for everyone that has. An elder can control what memories they give and deliver them in parcels. When a younger or less experienced Sang attempts to Turn someone—they do not have this ability, and they will have to teach who they Turned without the bridge of memories. For this reason, even if a young vampire finds their mate, it is often the job of their Sire to Turn them, which is why young Sang will ask permission to Turn someone. One out of respect and two to prevent problems. It also keeps the population from getting out of hand, for every member of the Nation there must be a safe space—where they are safe from persecution and accidental run-ins with mortals while they are learning to control the hunger."
Marlene stared at her.
Hermione tilted her head. "What?"
Marlene giggled. "I can think of no one else more appropriate to have so much knowledge than the one who always seemed to have all the knowledge in school. I used to wonder why you weren't a Ravenclaw, then I remembered the hat couldn't decide and Dumbledore just made the decision for it."
"One thing you should know," Hermione said. "If a Sang calls you child, is it not an insult. I means they know they are older than you, and that they are capable of watching over you."
"Why do I get the feeling you don't mean like five years older?" Marlene asked.
Hermione smiled. "A few hundred years at the very least. Usually a thousand."
Marlene gaped.
"Good evening, child," a voice tumbled.
Hermione lifted her head, and she brightened immediately. "Lord Rada!" she exclaimed, standing as Viktor gave her a disturbed rrrowlf. She rushed over to him, and they placed their foreheads and noses together. They then bared fangs together, gently pressing their cheek to one side and then the other.
"Dear, child," Rada rumbled. "Tell me how your day has been."
Hermione tilted her head to the side, and Marlene practically swallowed her own tongue as Rada's fangs sank into Hermione's neck in a flash of movement. He held her head, cradling it as he pulled away, blood still on his lips, and he drew a claw across his neck, pulling her to the offering as his crimson and gold flickering eyes stared into Marlene with a flood of power that seemed to roll over her like the Hogwarts Express.
Power that positively screamed elder, Elder, ELDER!
She would have thought that gaze was malevolent incarnate had Hermione not yielded to the elder with such perfect trust. The roll of power signalled the release of her protesting bladder, and she found herself very much uncomfortably, embarrassingly damp.
As Hermione pulled away, licking the wound on his neck as it healed closed, Rada touched her cheek gently with his fingers.
"You did well today," Rada praised. "It pleases me you dealt with Damien without having to scrape his head against the flagstones."
"You were expecting me to scrape him across the floor?" Hermione protested with a laugh.
Rada's expression was both dark and amused. "We've all done it," he said with a rather wicked smile. "You eventually will sooner or later." He leaned in, touching noses with her. "We're starting a betting pool on when."
"Lord Rada!" Hermione gasped out, laughing.
The elder vampire chuckled. "Please go speak with Tobias. He has a question about computers, and I fear for its life in this world if he does not get the answer he wants in the next few minutes."
Hermione shook her head. "I will do what I can." She tooked toward Marlene.
"I will take care of her," Rada said, his tongue deliberately flicking across one fang.
Hermione slumped as Marlene passed out.
Rada laughed genuinely. "Go, child. I will clean up the mess and connect her to some younger, less intimidating people to ask insufferably curious questions to."
Hermione gently placed a kiss on his cheek and swept from the garden, Viktor dutifully trotting behind, carrying his bone with him.
Rada's eyes glowed as he scanned Marlene over. "This should be fun."
"You had the Marlene girl follow Nathaniel around?" Isolde said with a grimace. "Are you trying to bore her to death?"
"He seemed the most neutral to start her off with," Lord Zaidu protested.
"He puts banshees to sleep!" Isolde said with a roll of her eyes. "At least let her follow Richard around for a day."
"And have him teach her how to steal blankets from sleeping cats and put cold water bottles on the back of unsuspecting Sang?" Camille asked.
Isolde sighed. "He has some redeemable qualities.
"He makes a decent pot of tea," Camille said. "But he likes Quidditch and Thestral racing far too much than is healthy."
"Dave then?" Maksim recommended.
"Right, have her follow the one Sang who believes in UFOs," Gareth said. "No."
"Let her follow around Bianca," Lady Layra said.
"Are you going to force her to take a day off and mind roll her bosses so they don't notice she's gone?" Rada asked.
"It could work," Marcus said, drumming his fingers on his throne.
"Let her follow Tom and Martijn," Lady Antonia recommended.
"She'll be a master of playing Pong by sunset," Nikolai said with a shake of his head. "I'll have her follow Gabriel for a day. At least she might learn something truly useful."
"Doubtful," Rada scoffed.
Nikolai gave Lord Rada "the look."
Rada smiled knowingly. "They won't be doing much following as much as maybe regretting not having silencing charms."
All the elders stared at Rada.
The smug Dacian vampire smiled wickedly. "Let us just say I have a feeling."
"Dacians, Romanians," Camille said, throwing up her hands. "You're all insufferable."
Hermione sat down in the chair next to the bed where a slightly dishevelled man kept watch over a brunette young woman. The man had a handsome, sharp face with hazel eyes flecked with gold.
His vampire nature was close to the surface. His skin, pale, and his eyes had a trace of gold. His fingers tapered into claws that tapped an idle, nervous tattoo against the chair he was sitting in.
"It's complicated," he said after a while, his voice a slight tremble.
"What isn't amongst the Sang?" Hermione mused. "Please, tell me about her."
"Her family was taken by a Line of vampires so obscure I had no idea who they were. She was adopted by none other than my rather tenacious nemesis—a family who claimed to harken from the infamous Van Helsing. It was with him that she was raised. Raised to be a hunter. To destroy me and all I stood for."
The blond vampire sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. "I went to America to learn business and the glory of capitalism, then returned to Europe to start a business of my own. To ensure loyalty amongst my higher employees, they were either Turned or thralled, as was customary since I was a very young vampire. So long ago."
"These hunters, Helsings if you would believe it, threw spanners into everything. They raided my castle, destroyed my robust electronic doors with holy water, they had some holy relic protecting their home—he had a nephew who could somehow break projects I had worked on for years with wads of chewing gum and sheer dumb luck. But, they raised her—Sophie—and she was sharp and fierce. Brave. Even when terrified she would stand her ground like a lioness protecting her cubs."
"I admired her fierce tenacity even as I cursed her efficiency at 'rescuing' so many of my guests from my castle," he said. "At one point, some bungler young vampire half-Turned her, and for just a span of time, we had—an understanding. We shared a love of art and music. Painting, even a talent for my business. But Helsing's other nephew cured her—purged the Turn with some old-fashioned religious fervour and recipes long lost from a time when our kind were not so incognito and a little of that sheer dumb luck that the one that had half-Turned her had some sort of weird antigen in his blood that could be purged at all."
"And Sophie—" he grimaced. "She was very young then. Too young for me to Turn myself, so I let her go, dismissing my feelings as a fleeting whimsy. A pet project like so many others. She returned to adopted family, and they threw themselves at me and mine for years. I tolerated them because they offered at least some sort of challenge that kept me on my toes and righttly paranoid."
He sighed, a crimson tear trickling down from the corner of his eye to run down his cheek. "As she grew older and more experienced, she was also very lonely. She was better than them. Fiercer. But they used her in ways—leaving her to stake out my castle looking for my victims in all weather. And there was a chasm forming between them as she felt alone and empty."
"And one night, when one of my own turned against me in hopes of usurping my Line, he attempted to stake me. She—" He closed his eyes. "She knew that while my methods were not kind to my Line, what would rise in my place was much worse. I never had a good appreciation for loyalty because it always came too late. And if a person showed even the slightest traitorous quality, even if they decided better, I would liquidate them. But, even so, She stepped in front. And as I held her, I bled. I brought her here because there is no safe place in my Line as it is for her. There is no place for—tenderness, and I have never given it until now."
Hermione closed her eyes, the gold and crimson trickle of power flowing from beneath her closed lids. The elders told her of this one—one of the ancient Lines. A brutal Line that ruled from the old ways the Council had long since left behind. Their society was no longer about who had the most slaves and servants, thralls and minions. Yet some of those lines still existed—knowing no other way—
These were the ancient lines that inspired the myth—
Shapeshifters who spread their "affliction" via bites without the use of blood but simple multiple bites. But they also had a different set of weaknesses and strengths. Stakings, for one. Garlic. Wild rose branches set upon the grave. Holy relics.
It amazed Hermione how many different Lines there were—many that still chose to shun the Council's jurisdiction in favour of clinging to their old traditions.
And most of those in such Lines knew nothing of peace or love or community.
And how could they when the head of the Line knew no compassion? He had no mate to temper his brutality and merciless history. No one to inspire kindness.
"I met a woman in the Americas—and for a while I felt human or as close as the Sang can be. She found out what I was and fled. She later married a journalist author whose ironic goal was to publish a novel exposing all of the Sang as he knew it—names, places, aliases, but most of all me."
"I sabotaged the plane to save myself and my Line—and I swore I would not love again," he said. "But even for her—I never bled."
He looked toward the woman in the bed. "But I bled for her, and felt—I felt emotion I thought to be dead and gone. And I do not want her to rise into a world of my merciless making. I will deal with my Line in time, but if I Turn her, she will never be free of my subjugation. Even if I leave her her mind, there will always be the possibility that she does something because I want it not because we want it together."
"Alexander?" the woman whispered.
The vampire winced and reached to her, soothing her hand with a golden-eyed gaze as his tapered claws gently stroked against her flesh. "I wish you to Turn her for me. I beg you. Free her of my Line but allow her to be at my side as my equal—not my servant. Not my slave."
"Is this what you want, Sophie?" Hermione asked.
Sophie nodded. "I know I should hate him, but I don't. All my training says I should stick a stake straight into his heart while he is vulnerable, but I can't. I truly care for him. I want to be with him."
Hermione bowed her head as the elders conferred together in her mind. "I will need your memories, Alexander, then we can filter the ones she needs for her to stand at your side as your equal. We will provide the shelter for you to sleep within the Earth with her as they merge into her for however long that takes. It will allow your bond to be mutual and even footed. The Council will decide who amongst them will Turn her, most likely Lady Antonia because she is the most gifted in arts and music and would most easily connect to her in trust. Will this please you both?"
Both Sophie and Alexander nodded to her in affirmative. "Yes."
"Your memories, and I will take your petition to the Council. You should not leave her side in this delicate time," Hermione said.
Alexander bit his wrist, allowing his blood to flow with his memories, holding it out, and Hermione took it to her mouth. She pulled away as the wound healed, her eyes crimson and gold chasing across the amber of her natural eye colour.
"I will contact you with the information you need," Hermione said. "And I will make sure you have quarters here in the Nation available to you. A safe place from even your Line, should this become an issue in the future."
"Thank you, Lady Garmr," Alexander said. "We are in your debt."
Hermione shook her head. "There is no debt in ensuring one of the Sang is properly bonded to their mate. Only the relief that it was possible at all."
She bowed her head. "I look forward to getting to know you better, Sophie, when the time is right."
With that, Hermione stood and walked out of the chambers, and the huge hound that was resting in the shadows stood and attended her side.
"That's a really huge dog," Sophie whispered.
Alexander's eyes were wide too. "That was a hellhound."
Lady Antonia smiled as she sat with Hermione in the night garden. "That line is not as old as those in the Council," she said after a time. Maybe—six hundred years or so. But it was formed amidst brutality and spite. There was much murder and crime in the area of its birth. The Ottoman Empire clashed with Hungary, and there were many, many acts of barbarism and brutality—one in particular being Vlad III for Walachia. Believe it or not, his people believed him a hero despite it because he did reduce crime—having your peers impaled and set out on display tended to inspire enough fear of what might happen to you. But Lines formed in that time were rooted in godly superstition. God fearing or god hating. The Lines often reflected this—while those such as your mate and our dear insufferable Lord Rada are Dacian— from a time long before Romania became Romania. Before borders were on maps."
Antonia sighed. "Alexander hails from one rooted in that superstitious time. His Line can walk in sunlight but are powerless until nightfall. They take on the form of bat and wolf. They can, when very old, even affect the weather. They require an invitation to enter a home. They are violently allergic to holy symbols, garlic, and blessed water. They line their boots with the soil of their homeland. They also have a bit of OCD. They count things like poppy seeds."
Hermione's eyes widened. "That sounds horrible," she confessed.
"He is right to have me Turn her—to separate her from his Line," Antonia said with a nod of approval. "Any attack on him would immediately focus on her as a weak link, with all the aversions, weaknesses, and OCD that plagues him. While she will lack some of the supernatural skills of his line, she will also not be vulnerable to it, and they will both be able to feed each other throughout time." Antonia chuckled. "She will have to get used to our more magical abilities though as she ages, but we will be there for her as she progresses. That is something he probably hoped would protect her as much as being of a different Line."
"He is quite brave," Hermione said. "He fears for her life but had to humble himself here in the Nation to preserve it. To someone used to being in control in that kind of paranoid life—it must have been very hard for him."
Antonia nodded. "You are probably very correct. To feel compassion after so long—to be so strong that it caused him to bleed—it was probably very shocking to him. Terrifying because his Line is all about the lack of compassion."
"Do you think his Line will evolve now?" Hermione asked.
"Perhaps—but in many ways it may have to start over again and remake itself. We can only watch and wait." Antonia smiled. "You did very well in accepting them into the Nation and making sure they were well provided for. You must be feeling more confident."
Hermione smiled. "It is surreal to have so many memories to work with—and yet remembering who Hermione is under it all."
"Ah, but you are Hermione regardless," Antonia said with warmth. "Have you decided when to give Severus another chance to stick his foot in his mouth?"
Hermione snorted. "He's rather good at it, isn't he? Even his father knows that."
"It can't have been easy for him growing up as the son of a Lord of the Nation," Antonia said. "Eileen's fear of the Wizarding World and what her family would do if they found out was well rooted in reality, and Tobias did whatever he had to do to ease her fears. But being so far from the Sang for all that time—he probably picked up some bad habits as they say. Growing up entirely mortal as a closet vampire is different from growing up with the Sang in every day of your life. There are things you know in having allowed us to Turn you that he does not. He did not drink the blood of elders regularly to fortify himself. He did not get the lessons young Sang do, save from what his parents could teach him safely nestled in a very mundane Muggle town. The closest thing to the supernatural he had, save for his father and mum, were the hellhounds, and they took to you instead of him."
"Now I feel like I hijacked his hounds," Hermione said, looking sheepish.
Antonia laughed. "No, child. They wanted what they wanted and they knew you were what they wanted. By hell and fire, they would have you, even if they had to Turn you themselves. That would have been rather complicated. You'd have gained a lovely tail, though and those cute pointed ears."
Hermione sputtered and smiled.
"Tobias spoke of you often," Antonia said. "And with great fondness. Short of Eileen, you were the only one who ever nestled into him and let him carry you without protest. His own son even squirmed in his embrace as a baby."
"But—" Hermione frowned. "He was always so kind to me. I could never fear that."
"This is why you are you, Hermione," Antonia said. "You are ever the same no matter what we may call you. Unfailingly compassionate, tolerant, eager to please—to just make things happier for everyone, I think. When I hear the Sang speak of Lady Garmr, it is with respect and admiration rather than terror, and that is amazing for anyone of the Council. Poor Tobias. He makes people piss themselves just by walking to the gardens. Rada has been quite amused by your friend, Marlene. She can't meet even one elder without having to change her knickers."
"Oh dear," Hermione said, chuckling. She sighed. "I do hope she managed to bring at least some peace to Lily. What she did was terribly selfish, and she was stoked by being thralled as a child unbeknownst to anyone until after Lord Dolion and Lady Sarka died. The rest—perhaps it's just immaturity. I can see that more now that I have all of you in my head."
Antonia chuckled into her hand. "That is what you need to understand, my child. You can see things with the eyes of one thousand years old. Just as you give us the gift of seeing things from a fresh, new perspective. Severus does not have this. He is slightly obtuse with blinders on. Thinking like a mortal. It will take him more time than you to figure out what it is to be truly Sang instead of a guest. I think his friendship with Gabriel will and has helped him greatly. Despite a somewhat rough start."
"Gabriel wanted to set Severus on fire," Hermione said. "I can understand why, but I convinced him not to."
"That says quite a lot coming from Gabriel," Antonia said. "He is such a sweet, peaceful child. Very talented. Great bedside manner. I'm sure it vexes him that Ms Evans is so resistant to what he offers her. She could have no better a master than him. I guarantee you if she were with me, she would be scrubbing tiles with a toothbrush until it stopped being funny—and I have a very long lasting sense of humour."
Hermione grimaced. "I almost scraped Damien's head across the flagstones the other night."
"Almost but not quite?" Antonia mused. "Far more patience than I. I lasted a day. Tobias less than thirty seconds. We may be placing bets on how long it takes you."
Hermione flushed. "Now I am really self-conscious!" She sighed. "The more time I must spend with bringing Damien to task the more I want to just march over to the Fiery Hound and snog Severus into the floor."
"Perhaps you should just do the latter," Antonia suggested.
"I don't know if he's ready to see me yet," Hermione said.
"I think he is," Antonia said. "Worst-case scenario, you can always scrape his face against the flagstones."
Hermione cringed. "That would be bad if I scraped him against the flagstones before Damien."
"Well, look at it this way, child," Antonia said. "He would always respect your strength forever more."
"You, human," the male vampire hissed. "How dare you walk in front of me!"
"Damien, if you cannot say something nicely," Hermione said in exasperated tones, "you shouldn't say anything at all. And you know that Kindred are not to be treated like chattel."
"My Sire said all humans are nothing but cows to be bled and fed upon, nothing more," Damien argued.
"Yes, and you see how well that worked out for him," Hermione pointed out darkly.
Damien's face turned an angry red, and he launched himself at Hermione with a low growl. "Arrogant little whor—"
Hermione's fingers wrapped tightly around his throat as her talons sank into his skin as she squeezed and then smashed his face into the flagstones with a crack. "What did you just call me?"
"My Lady Garmr," he choked out.
She narrowed her eyes as gold and crimson chased across amber brown, her jaw tightened, and she let him go with a fling much as one would dispose of a foul bit of refuse.
"For your transgression in insulting our Kindred, you will personally replace the wall you knocked over in the housing area stone by stone," she said. "And you will pay for their groceries," Hermione added, using her thumb to point to the Kindred who were hastily attempting to both clean up their vegetables from the ground and stay the hell out of Hermione's way.
"Y-yes, Lady Garmr," Damien bit out from between clenched teeth.
Hermione turned to help the Kindred with their groceries, and Damien extended his claws and leapt at her back with a silent hiss—
As Viktor and the not exactly "puppy" pack descended upon Damien and tore him to shreds, dragging his front side across the flagstones.
The throng of thralls watching the scene stared blankly at the now crimson-stained stone and began to scrub frantically to clean up the mess.
"I heard you finally smashed Damien's face into the ground," Severus said, his face pinched slightly.
"I think everyone has by now," Hermione said as she picked up the vial labelled Migraine Make Merry. "I should have used this. Viktor and his pack certainly have no qualms whatsoever about taking their pound of flesh and dragging it all across the main corridors for me. The elders were taking bets on when I'd finally crack and show him the ground face-first."
"Why are you spending so much time with that uncouth heathen?" Severus asked.
"Damien was one of Lord Dolion's Line—taken as an impressionable youth and brainwashed to be an arrogant toerag of disrespectful fervour," Hermione said with a sigh. "Since he was manipulated as a child, the Council is granting him a year to see if he is redeemable—or until your father removes his head from his shoulders, whichever comes first."
Severus' eyes widened. "That could be today."
"Hrm," Hermione said. "Which is why I was watching him today and not Tobias. He is, at the very best, insufferably rude and ridiculously entitled. At his worst—well, the only thing he seems to respond to is having his face plastered against the flagstones, and I can only think that this was what Lord Dolion did whenever he displeased him."
"Dolion had a thing for brainwashing children, didn't he," Severus speculated, a look of disgust on his face.
"It seems so," Hermione agreed. "Most if not all of his Line were groomed as children before he Turned them. Most likely, Lily would have been one of his too had she actually succeeded in murdering me in order to prove her worth."
"That is rather more horrifying than I'd expected," Severus admitted.
"The difference is, Dolion thralled every single member of his Line to him, so their true personalities such as Damien's didn't even matter to him. Some didn't even have personalities because they'd been under so long." Hermione frowned. "To be honest, I have no idea the extent of how broken he is or even if there is anything fixable there. They are trying to see if there is anything salvageable in him or if he's doomed to spend his entire unlife scrubbing off the grout in the showers of the community bathhouse with a Muggle toothbrush."
"I'm surprised he hasn't been—well, dealt with," Severus said grimly. "He even attacked members of the Council."
"I think the fact that so many of them were picked as children is what makes them tolerate it more than they normally would in this case," Hermione said. "The value of childhood, that moment in time when so many things are wondrous and new. I'm sure there is a library worth of psychological studies on each state of childhood and how it affects the human psyche—but in the end, I think they want to see if there is anything left that can be saved because it wasn't their fault they were a victim."
"Hopefully not all of them are treating it like Lily," Severus said with a snort. "Gabriel is ready to throat punch her, and he's a very calm and even-tempered Sang."
"I hear he has other distractions of late," Hermione said, amused.
"Did you set him up with Marlene McKinnon?" Severus accused, eyes narrowing.
"Me? No," Hermione said, her lips curving up into a mischievous smile. "Let us just say that some elders enjoy a little pot stirring and nudging when they think it'll have a positive outcome.
Severus frowned. "You, too, it seems."
"Oh?" Hermione said, feigning insult. "How dare you."
Severus quirked his lips. "Don't tell me that Viktor just so happened to drop an adorable little hellhound pup in his lap out of pure whimsy."
"It happened to me," Hermione said fairly.
"Yes, but you had an entire puppy pack and their bitch at your beck and call on your first meeting," Severus said. "This guy was terrified of hellhounds."
"Not anymore," Hermione said, a smile tugging at her mouth.
"You are so guilty," Severus accused, his black eyes sparkling.
"It's my upbringing," Hermione claimed innocently. "Blame it on my Line."
"Which one?" Severus asked with an arched brow.
"Yes," Hermione answered, her eyes glinting with gold and crimson.
Severus rolled his eyes. "I don't even know how to talk to you. Gods only know who's listening."
Hermione laughed. "It's not that bad," she said with a smile. "For the most part I am alone, but they are purposely staying close in my early years to support me just in case I need them. It's more a presence where if I need them, they can quickly shift into conscious thought but otherwise they are like white noise in the background."
"Still, isn't it enough to have Lord Sanguini in your head all the time?" Severus asked.
Hermione chuckled. "No, it's comforting to feel someone close without them being there. He can be off wining and dining ambassadors in whatever place but still be able to wish me goodnight or ask how my day is. It's not as good as the real thing being with someone, but it's better than feeling all alone in an entirely new society."
"I'm surprised he's taking on an assignment—so soon, that is," Severus said.
"It was an emergent assignment," Hermione explained. "Kindred lives were on the line. After almost losing me—I think he was very sensitive to the gravity of their situation."
Severus grimaced. "I'm sorry."
Hermione tilted her head.
"I'm sorry for having failed you in so many ways," he said. "During and after being cursed."
Hermione closed her eyes, shoulders drooping. "I am sorry it was done to you. It should have been me alone, not you."
"No!" Severus exclaimed. "It shouldn't have happened at all! I should have told Father the moment I felt so attracted to her because it wasn't right. It wasn't natural!"
Hermione's gaze softened. "Severus, you were a child. I was a child. How could we have known?"
"I should have known! I was fascinated by you the moment you stepped into my life and then suddenly I wasn't. I left you waiting for me in the home of my parents—while I was out there wooing a girl who didn't even care what I thought. I LEFT you. I ABANDONED you in that infirmary to go suck up to Lily while you were DYING and I didn't even look at you closely enough to notice!"
Severus' voice cracked, and blood tears flowed down his face. Crimson rivers stark against his snow white skin.
"Oh, Severus," Hermione said as she suddenly realised the root of his torment.
She placed her hand on his cheek. "I do not hate you. You can be an arse and sometimes I think you need a better filter, but I do not hold you accountable for any of that. I'm just grateful we both survived it."
She brushed the trail of crimson with her thumb. "Why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?"
Severus touched her hand with his. "Guilt. I deserved to suffer."
Hermione pulled his head close, pressing her head to his and her nose to his nose, cradling his face with her hands. "No. You don't deserve to suffer. I wish I had known. I would have told Gabriel to hold my blood wine and snogged you senseless."
Severus' eyes went wide as Hermione touched his ear, brushing his hair from it with a tender caress.
"Mihail will be jealous he's not here to taste you himself," Hermione said.
Severus flushed deeply, the very thought of the Dacian vampire heating his already heated body an extra notch toward painfully aroused. He saw the masculine smile on Hermione's face as the gold and crimson leaked from her eyes that Sanguini was fully aware of his—interest.
"And here I was worried you could not possibly want me," Hermione said. "Now I have to wonder if you want Mihail or me more."
Severus turned slightly purple. "Can I just admit to both and get to snogging you into this handy countertop?"
Hermione cast her eyes down as she pulled her collar away from her neck in plain invitation.
Severus' eyes bled crimson as gold filled his pupils, his fangs lengthening in his arousal. He pressed her into the counter as the cash register clung precariously from the edge. His mouth covered hers, his fangs nicking her tongue, and the taste of her blood drove him into a heated frenzy of overwhelming need.
Something primal lurked from behind the line of trees of his body, and he shuddered with a growl. He pulled back from her mouth with a look of pained restraint. "I am no Sanguini."
"Thank the gods," Hermione said with feeling. "Do you have any idea just how insufferable having two of you would be?"
Severus heard Sanguini's laughter inside his head, and he flushed again, unsure of what to do with all of his desire.
Hermione helped jumpstart his brain by sliding a talon across her skin on her neck as she tilted her head to the side.
"Two for one, lover," Sanguini said through Hermione. "When I return home, it will be for real."
Severus was on her offering in a blink of movement, taking her blood as he cradled her against the poor counter that buckled slightly with the force of his enthusiasm. He was but a drowning man, and she was oxygen.
A sudden commotion outside heralded by the crash of boxes and an all-too-familiar voice screeching, "Please, stop following me!"
"I cannot leave you alone ! What if you were to be in danger! What if someone were to drop something heavy upon you! To leave you alone to face such dangers is impossible!"
Severus pulled up from Hermione's neck with a snarl, his eyes glowing in nothing short of territorial fury as his claws dug into the poor, abused counter.
Hermione touched his cheek and pressed a tender kiss upon his mouth. "Come on, love, let's go see what's blowing up out there. A trolley might have crashed into the wall somehow from the outside."
Severus set his jaw, closing his eyes as he silently counted to ten.
Hermione took that moment to slither out of his embrace, further jolting him back into reality.
Hermione slipped out onto the street in Diagon Alley and stopped so suddenly that Severus slammed into her back with a startled oof.
Only to find the absolutely mind boggling sight of Lily attempting to purchase supplies and Damien of all vampires carrying all of her parcels for her while dogging her heels like a puppy with a crush, opening doors for her, clearing her path—
Lily, of course, was utterly horrified and unable to go anywhere without her vampire shadow, effectively ruining any and all attempts to ditch her escort and do anything remotely shady.
"What in Merlin's everloving toenail fungus is going on here?" Severus blurted in shock.
Gabriel, who was rubbing Marlene's shoulder as she gaped in complete horror after the pair, was sporting a wide amused grin that was threatening to swallow the rest of his face.
James, who was eating an apple, just smirked, his hazel eyes alight with glee. "Couldn't have happened to a more deserving witch," he crowed.
"You do realise, Potter, that if the berk is bleeding for her she'll be in a love-hate relationship with him for as long as she remains alive?" Severus asked with a raised brow.
Potter smiled. "If she's Turned, she has to follow Sang law. Her dreams of a normal life will be naught but ash. Poetic justice, don't you think?"
Gabriel sighed softly. "Ms Evans wasn't much of a servant anyway," he confessed. "She just made more work for James. She'll have to get a regular job—or, if Damien is the prehistoric heathen that his Sire was—he'll insist she stays home, barefoot and in the kitchen. Only totally for her own good in his mind."
"I find it rather discombobulating that you are so happy about this, Potter," Severus admitted.
James shrugged. "I might have fallen out of love with her after she set me up to be magically raped by Bellatrix Lestrange until Lady Garmr and the Aurors and Unspeakable team rescued me."
Hermione had a strange sort of grin on her face that did not fully belong to her as she stared at the sight of Lily and Damien failing to fit in anywhere.
"Gods, she's sharing all this with the Council," Severus said.
Gabriel grinned. "I'm enjoying it. So should they."
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, wrinkling it as he shook his head.
And back in the Undead Nation—
"Gods damn you, Rada!" Gareth hissed. "How the hell do you manage to so insufferably predict something as absolutely random as bloody Damien fixating on Lily Evans?"
Rada shrugged as he raked in the betting winnings. "Great skills of intuition, old friend."
Marcus tipped over his goblet of bloodwine, and his hellhound lapped at it eagerly. "He's not even the seer."
Tobias bit into a chunk of highly coagulated blood cheese as if it offended him.
"Look at the bright side," Camille purred. "Damien is now quite occupied and out of the hair of everyone that matters."
Antonia took that moment to snort bubbles into her own bloodwine.
"I'm certainly not complaining," Zaidu offered. "They were both pains in everyone's arses, and she even had poor Gabriel contemplating murder or a full bloodthralling."
"Don't forget dear Tobias' love for Damien," Isolde purred.
"Love of smashing his face into the flagstones," Layra said pointedly.
Isolde shrugged. "Love. Love of violence. Still love."
"If he keeps this up, and I imagine he will," Nikolai observed with a wicked grin, "he'll be far too busy keeping tabs on Ms Evans and providing for her to trouble our Kindred anymore."
"Do we even want that as an immortal?" Tobias asked, looking unbelievably weary.
"Look at it this way," Brunhild said. "If she's Sang, then she has to follow Sang laws. And that means you can roll her mind and do that thing with your aura that makes mortals, vampires, banshees, witches, wizards, and whatever piss themselves if you are within a few hundred feet of them."
"I still want to know how you do that," Maksim mumbled.
"It's the Roman in him," Camille said with a beatific smile. "No one does intimidation quite like the Romans."
Tobias scowled, his lips pursed together in a flat, immobile line.
The doors of the Council chamber door opened as the next vampire faced their judgement.
The well-muscled, jock-like vampire took one look at Tobias' scowl and promptly wet himself as he cried, "I did it! I admit it! I'm guilty!" He dropped to the ground on the spot and smashed his face into the marble floor.
Maksim sighed. "I rest my case."
End of Chapter 4
A/N: Poor Tobias. Not poor Lily, obviously. Kinda poor Severus—I mean, the poor guy can't catch a break. I think the only one who has ever greeted Tobias with a hug first was Hermione. Eileen may have even hesitated when she first met him. Ha ha.
Extra scene:
Tobias walked into the kitchen and his eyebrows knit together as he saw his wife and Hermione Granger baking biscuits together.
Blood biscuits.
Hermione plucked one off the cooling rack and offered it to him. "We made biscuits! Severus hasn't come back yet, so Mrs Snape said we could surprise you."
Tobias nibbled on the biscuit with interest. "Consider me surprised, child," he said with a small tug of a smile.
"Mrs Snape said the red biscuits are for adults," Hermione announced, "so we made shortbread ones for me. I used all the butter though, I'm sorry." She bit her lip between her teeth. "Do they taste okay? I couldn't taste them myself, but I followed Mrs Snape's instructions exactly!"
Tobias' expression softened. "They're perfect. Thank you."
Hermione beamed, and it was like a sun filling the room with brilliance.
Whuff! The hellhounds were gathering to the scent of blood biscuits.
"I can't give you any," Hermione said apologetically. "Dogs shouldn't eat people food."
Tobias shot Eileen a look. "That's okay, child. They can have one."
Hermione brightened, and she split the biscuits up and gave each pup a piece after giving them the command to sit. To the bitch, she gave the whole biscuit, and the bitch took it gently but then nuzzled her a little too enthusiastically in thanks, toppling the young witch over.
Tobias caught her quickly, hoisting her up.
Hermione giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Mr Snape."
"How long has Severus been out?" Tobias asked, frowning a little.
"Since before I arrived," Hermione said, slightly crestfallen. "We were supposed to go to the museum today."
Tobias scowled. "Well, we can go together tomorrow. I will take you. Wash up, child, and prepare for bed. I will ring your parents and tell them about the museums."
Hermione smiled as he set her down. "Okay! Thank you, Mr Snape!" she scurried down the hall to rustle through the guest cabinet that had the spare towels and guest supplies. All the pups scurried down the hall with her, dutifully following their chosen mistress with devoted fervour.
Tobias pressed a kiss to his mate's forehead and gave her a look. "We should just adopt her," he said grimly.
"Might be a problem if she turns out to be our son's mate," Eileen said.
"He's doing a horrible job of it, if that's the case," Tobias said. He sighed. "All we can do is protect her and hope we never break that beautiful trust and zest for life that lives within her. She will make someone in the Nation a very happy vampire."
"Well, I'm pretty happy with her being with us," Eileen said.
Tobias pressed his lip to hers. "Me too." He drew a claw across his neck and pulled his mate to his blood, closing his eyes as the amusement of a young human witch making them blood biscuits settled in his soul.
And everyone dies. MAUAHAHAHAHA… ok, okay. They can live. Young Hermione is just way too cute to murder. shakes fist
Tune in for Chapter 5 in the maybe near future depending on how nice life is to me this week.