CHAPTER ONE: End of Summer and Letters
Hermione’s pale face stared back at her from out of her mirror. The scratches from the night before hadn’t healed. She had no idea what she’d been doing, or why she was in the Weasley’s back field. All she remembered was running from some creature of the night, and it knocked her over. She remembered a searing pain in her left arm, but when she looked at it, no bite marks or scratches existed, except for an area that was inflamed and a bit of a purplish red.
Ginny strayed into the bedroom she was sharing with Hermione, since Hermione’s parents had been killed on Voldemort’s orders. Hermione spent her first full summer at the Burrow, and it was the night before when she’d been out in the Weasley’s open field that the thing had chased her (the events were beginning to sort themselves out in her murky mind). Molly had inquired about the scratches when Hermione burst through the door, ashen faced and frightened. She had lied of course, and said something had startled her, and she tripped and fell.
Molly dropped the subject then, sensing that Hermione wasn’t keen to talk about what it was that had frightened her. Ginny picked up her makeup bag, and gave Hermione an odd look as she went out. Hermione scrutinized herself more. She noticed that her warm chocolate eyes were dilated in fear. She had nightmares the rest of the night about running and not being able to stop. Her honey and chocolate mane frizzed about her narrow face, and her normally red lips were a pale pink to match her face. Freckles dotted her nose from her trip to France. She turned away from her scratched-up reflection and walked over to her bed.
‘Mirrors lie,’ she said to herself as she opened a window. Minutes later, a rather large barn owl flew through the window, and landed on her bedside table. It deposited a letter in her lap, and flew off. Inside the envelope that was from Hogwarts (she noted it was thicker than usual) was a list of her school supplies and a personal letter from Professor McGonagall.
Dear Ms. Granger:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been honored with the title of Head Girl for your final year at Hogwarts. Enclosed are your duties and your badge. Good luck!
Prof. M. McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts
Hermione squealed with delight as the shiny badge fell into her eager palm. Little did she know, that miles away from her current location, a vampire with pale blond hair and electric blue eyes was reading the very same letter except that it was addressed to him.
The end of summer came too soon. Hermione found herself craving meat more often than she should; undercooked meat at that. She found her hunger insatiable, and she developed an unusual dislike for her own cat, Crookshanks. Her senses seemed heightened, but thinking it was her imagination, she ignored it.
The train ride was uneventful for about the first hour, considering the Head Boy never showed up. By the time the food trolley arrived, the Head Boy managed to find the time to miraculously appear. When Hermione saw who it was, she wasn’t in the least surprised that he was late.
“Care to join me, Malfoy?”
He sat down in front of her. She had no clue what he’d been doing the past hour. He spied a spot of crimson blood, beginning to dry, on his left arm, and rushed to cover it up with the sleeve on his robe. Hermione took no notice of the swift gesture, for which he was thankful. He had been feeding, and he hadn’t been careful about cleaning up after himself.
Malfoy ran his hand through is white-blond hair. Hermione noticed the gesture, and the smell of him sent shivers down her spine. All of a sudden, she felt that insatiable hunger, and longed to devour him. She stood up and walked over to him.
He smelled her blood. He was sure of it. It smelled sweet, like honey and chocolate, but there was a certain bitterness to it, like it had been tainted by something. He felt the lust come upon him, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep from going under. He began to pant from the strain of keeping himself from drowning in the savagery of the vampiric hunger.
When he began to pant, she smelled the sweetness of his breath. She almost succumbed to him, but the hunger began to take control. She felt her eyes dilate and her senses heighten. She felt wild, like she had no control over herself, no power to control herself.
Malfoy stood up and began to circle her. She did the same. They looked like two dogs fixing to go at it over a piece of meat. He felt his fangs elongate. Hermione felt her mouth water at the thought of tasting his flesh. They were about to attack each other until the train lurched suddenly, and the pair flew forward, one on top of the other. Hermione came to her senses, her mind fuzzy over what had just happened. She pushed herself up off of Malfoy, her warm hands touching his freezing, stone-like skin. Then and there, Hermione Granger made a mental point to stay as far away from the Head Boy as her living quarters would allow. She didn’t realize it, but Malfoy did the same.
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