Chapter Text
“Hermione? Do you have a moment?”
The voice went unheard as she scribbled away furiously in her notebook. The most recent results had arrived and she needed to mark all of her points down while they were still fresh in her mind. She subconsciously rubbed her face, wiping the sweat from her brow, leaving a trail of ink behind.
“Hermione?”
Her head shot up, “Oh, Kings! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!” She said, scribbling a few more notes down before relenting to the figure in her office, placing her quill down on her desk, “What can I do for you?”
“I heard from Harry that you’ve possibly broke ground on a cure for Vampyrism.”
She gestured for him to take a seat, and reached for a file on the cabinet behind her, “Yes sir—well sort of. It’s merely a theory at this point. To prove its validity I would need to have funding and a team, not to mention test subjects.”
Kingsley adjusted in his seat, leaning towards her, a grin stretching across his features, “I have everything you need, including test subjects, just say the word and I’ll send it all your way.”
Her mouth fell open in shock, “You have test subjects for me? Who? All the vampires I’ve met with are quite content with their predicament.”
“Well, that is true, but fortunately this group has offered their services as penance.”
A shiver slid down her spine, “Penance? For what?”
“Honestly it’s best if they tell you in person.”
Gooseflesh rose across her skin, excitement and curiosity rolling through her, magic tingling her fingertips. She smiled, “When can I meet them?”
“Tonight. I’ll send you the address.” He stood to leave, pausing to add, “I hope you trust me enough to know I would never put you in danger.”
“Of course, Kingsley. I trust you with my life.”
“Just as I do with you, Hermione.”
When the door clicked closed Hermione quickly prepared everything she needed, neatly storing it in the briefcase Ginny had given to her for her birthday; High time you upgraded from that ugly beaded bag, she had said. She was right of course, the briefcase had built-in shelves and a cloaking spell engraved into the wood so that if you were inside, and engaged the lock, it would become virtually undetectable. What she would have given for this when they were on the run.
A ministry paper plane slipped under the door and landed on her desk, unfolding itself for Hermione to read.
Hermione,
I must reiterate that you will be safe where you are going. I would never put you in danger. You will know with whom you will be meeting once you read the address.
Kingsley
Behind the note was a second piece of parchment, just big enough for a few words. Hermione unrolled it, dropping into her seat when the words on the paper registered in her mind. Her heart thundered and the angry scar on her arm began to itch. Surely Kingsley was mistaken. Surely he wouldn’t send her there, to the one place she vowed to never set foot in again—the one place that haunted her nightmares more days than not.
Malfoy Manor.
She paced back and forth before the fireplace in her office, digging deep into her inner self for the strength and courage to make the trip. She needed this. Forty-Seven vampires had turned her down, dwindling her list of known “safe” vampires to zero.
It’s my only option. Go. It will be fine. Kingsley promised I would be safe.
She steeled herself and stepped into the fireplace, a death grip on the floor powder in her hands.
Go!
“Malfoy Manor!” she shouted, tossing the powder at her feet, closing her eyes as the flames enveloped her and the world began to spin.
When she came to an abrupt halt—the floo spitting her out into the receiving room of Malfoy Manor, she stumbled, feeling like a newborn deer as she tried to steady her wobbly feet on the marble floor.
“Bloody hell Granger! Learn to walk in those things before you kill someone!” a familiar voice shouted as she felt herself being steadied by the tall figure before her.
She looked up, nearly choking on her gasp as she took in the image of the man who has played a key role in many of her recurring nightmares as of late. He looked so different then she remembered, but 5 years would do that to a man.
“I happen to know exactly how to walk in heels, Malfoy.” She spat, pulling her arm from his grasp.
“Defensive as ever. Good to see nothing’s changed.”
She paused, glaring at him, but quickly lost her fire when a smile crept across his face; not one of smugness or righteousness, but one that was soft and kind.
“You’re teasing me.”
“Still a fast learner I see.” He added, gesturing for her to follow him.
They walked in silence for a moment, and she took in her surroundings—trying to remember which door had led them into the Drawing room. She rubbed her arm, her scar flaring up once more.
“The room is gone.” He stated simply.
“Sorry?”
“Don’t play dumb with me Granger, I can see you fidgeting, I know what’s troubling you. I don’t like being here either, but it was the only place I didn’t mind the Ministry tracking. I’m not here when I don’t have to be.”
She frowned slightly, “Why is the Ministry tracking the Manor?”
A gasp escaped her throat as he pushed her up against the wall. He towered above her, his looming presence shrouding her in shadow. He held her by the wrists, pinning them above her head so far she was nearly on her tiptoes to prevent her arms from dislocating. He looked down smiling, 2 large fangs emerging from his gums. He sniffed the air, his eyes shifting from stormy grey to blinding white. Leaning down his nose brushed against her cheek as he whispered in her ear.
“Because, Granger, if I were to give in to my desires and feast upon the Golden Girl herself, the Ministry will want to know where to come looking for me.” He hissed, his hot breath on her neck sending shivers down her spine.
Her breaths came out in shaky pants; his hands were cool against her skin and Hermione felt a flood of heat shoot straight to her core. Draco took a deep breath in, his grip on her tightening as the scent of her enveloped his nose. His fangs extended out and his eyes flashed a dangerous look. Hermione needed to be careful, the possessive nature of Vampires rival that of Werewolves. She remembered reading about the bond of a vampire and their “queen” in Lockhart’s “Voyages With Vampires”, the key difference between the two species being that it was very common for not just one vampire to bond to said “queen”, but the entire nest.
The copies she had read 2nd year had been abridged, cutting out the more inappropriate aspects. When she had garnered a new edition as an adult to begin her vampire research she was shocked to find whole chapters dedicated to describing how the nest would feed off of their queen together, often engaging in sexual acts in the process.
“Something on your mind Granger?”
“What? N-n-no!” she stuttered.
He trailed his thumb down her carotid, taking lock of her curls between his fingers, gently stroking it, “I’m a vampire, Goldie Locks, no sense lying to me; besides that, I’m a Legilimens.”
“How do you know about Muggle fairy tales?”
He laughed, dropping her hands, the spell between them broken, “Salazar Granger, sometimes I question that Brightest Witch of Her Age moniker.”
He waved his wand, a book flying into his hand a few moments later. She took it from him, glancing over the title, “ The Tales of Beedle the Bard? I have a copy already.” She said, offering it back.
“You have the standard copy. Only the oldest families possess original, unedited copies; full of stories deemed… inappropriate for the general public.”
She pulled her hand back, flipping open the book to a random page. Her eyes widened, “Little Red Riding Hood!?”
“Werewolf.” He stated simply.
Turning to another page, she found it, “Goldie Lockhart and the Three Werewolves!?” she paused, “Lockhart?”
“His ancestor, however many greats back. Why do you think he was so set on making a name for himself working with beasts and creatures across the world?”
His logic was sound and she had to admit that there was definitely a resemblance between her old professor and the drawings she had seen of the story.
“How many stories are missing from my copy?”
“I don’t know, probably half of them?”
“HALF?!”
“It’s a prejudiced society Granger, you know that better than most.” His eyes flicked to her arm for a moment making her stomach drop, “Pureblood society didn’t want people hearing stories of a woman who was mated with 3 werewolves, or a werewolf who became obsessed with a girl and killed her grandmother to get close to her.”
She nodded, absentmindedly stroking the spine of the book, “Could I borrow this?”
“Keep it.”
“Thank you Malfoy.” She said softly, beaming.
“We should probably get to the point of you being here.”
Shite.
She had almost completely forgotten her reason for coming. Straightening her spine, she tried to put on her most professional expression, “Yes. Sorry, I am being unprofessional. The Minister said there were 4 of you?”
“Yes. Father, Theo Nott, Severus and myself.”
“PROFESSOR SNAPE IS ALIVE?!?”