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A/N This story is actually a sequel to upcomming story, which explains how Gabriel and Hermione first met. But since this is a separate story of Gabriel's life, I'm taking the risk and posting it first. I hope you'll enjoy it.

A huge thanks to padfoots girl, Shadow Danzer and others who took my challenge and started to wrote the prequel. You enthusiasm has inspired me to write this story (perhaps someday I'll write the story as I imagined it...). Also a big thank you to snow white and tllyc from Hogwarts Extreme.

DISCLAIMER: Alhough this story is set in J.K. Rowling's amazing world of Harry Potter, I have taken the liberty to alter her vampires and add some aspects from White Wolf's tabletop rpg series; the World of Darkness. Some of the used vampyric names and terms belong to White Wolf. Otherwise Gabriel as a character is 100% mine.
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I want to start this thing, by saying that this wasn’t my idea.

Well, not at first...but since Hermione kept asking me to tell her my story, I finally gave in... As unreal as it sounds, I actually gave in.

Mostly just to shut her up.

I’m kidding Hermione, but you do tend to talk (and ask) much too much, or perhaps it’s just me who’s used to silence. I haven’t had this kind of social encounter for quite some time…

So I guess this is a dedication to my dear friend Hermione, a, somewhat complete, biography of mine.

But I’m doing it in my way - by writing it down.

I’m sorry Hermione, but it would take too many nights to tell you the whole story personally and you still need to sleep and study. In fact I’m watching you sleep while I’m writing this very line; I must say you look adorable when you are asleep, forgive me my selfishness, but this is the only way.

And the best way since you won’t be interrupting me with your endless questions…

So, where to begin? Probably from the beginning, I guess.

My life began in a small village near Lyon, France; the exact date was September 21st 1771. I can’t really remember the first few years after my birth but I don’t think anyone can.

Ironically I can remember everything after my death…

Those who might find this writing later may be confused by its strange look. That’s because it is strange, and horrifying. For wizards this won’t come as a surprise. For muggles, however, this might be quite shocking: I am a vampire.

No, I’m not joking or lying. And yes, you are reading it correctly: A vampire.

From what I’m about to do, will probably cause me a lot of trouble later, this writing will break many rules set by my kind. But as usual, I’ll ignore them and do what ever I want.

Don’t worry Hermione, if someone really wants to destroy me because of these writings, I’d be surprised.

I’d be surprised because mortals will go to incredible depths of denial. My race indeed exists and has existed almost as long as mortals’ have. The exact origin of our kind, however, is not known, Even the eldest of our kind don’t know where we come from, But mortals still can’t believe that we exist.

Of course this excludes wizards, but they are a different matter. Most of this denial comes from a successful lie, which has been told and strengthened by our kind (or Kindred, as we like to call ourselves): Vampires do not exist.

This false facade helps us Kindred to survive; it’s a lot easier to hunt among the sheep if you are dressed as one. You can think it as a Masquerade: you’ll never know who is behind the mask… It does help the Ministry of Magic as well, but that’s just a side effect. We don’t care about the wizards as long as they stay away from our business.

Forgive me Hermione, but since my kind lives much longer than yours, I need to think further into the future, someone else might find these writings later and I want to offer him or her, the same information that I have given to you. Well, perhaps a little less, since we have a bit more of a… closer relationship.

And as I said before, I’m doing it my way, ok?

Where were we? Oh, right, the village.

I will not name the village, out of my respect towards it. I still love that village since I was born there. It has been a long time since I visited it… Perhaps, you could come with me next time, Hermione…?

I was born into a low rank noble family, my father, Bernard, always said that we were once one of the richest families in all of France.

But later I learned, that our ‘riches’ had worn out many generations ago, only the pride and arrogance was left.

I had four brothers and a sister. My mother, Josèphine, died soon after my birth, my father never really recovered from his loss and even today, I feel like he had been blaming me for her death, but nevertheless, he took care of us the best he could.

However, at that time it wasn’t very certain to even live past one’s first five years, And so when I was four Lucas, my second and oldest brother, got into a fight with a few peasants and was stabbed with a pitchfork. He died a few days after the fight. My father was furious, he tried to hunt those men down but they had fled right after they heard of Lucas’ death. They were never seen in that village again.

Perhaps, the saddest thing happened one winter, when I was six years old, my only sister, Marie, who was only a year older than me, fell ill. Her fever rose terribly and lasted for three agonising weeks.

My father tried to do everything he could, but it seemed that the forces of nature were against us, as, soon after my sister got sick, a fierce snowstorm rose and lasted over a month. Since we lived in an old castle away from the village, it was impossible for us to get help, we send two of our trusted servants to search for a doctor but they never came back. They were found in spring when the snow melted, they had frozen to death.

And my sister, devoid of medical care, slowly withered away…

I know it sounds horrible and sad, but that’s how it was back then, Hermione.

More and more people were dying at that time, due to the extreme weather and lack of advanced medical care or efficient medicines. We were lucky enough, to even have a real doctor in our village.

Luckily, things have improved since that time. You live in a much happier time, Hermione. Just try, and bare with it, ok?

As I had written before, our family wasn’t much respected.

Of course the commoners still showed some respect, even fear upon hearing our family name, but the days of glory had long gone…The castle where we lived was a very old one, not like the ones with beautiful high towers and clean straight walls. No, the castle was in appalling shape, many parts of the walls were collapsing or had already collapsed. We had only two towers, and they weren’t even lofty ones, even the local church was a competitor to us.

The corridors were always dark and cold and without the fireplace in my room, I probably would have frozen to death during the winters, and having a cold during the winters was customary, but I even had one in the summer!

Of course, our servants tried their best to repair the damage, but I bet even a miracle could not have saved the castle.

Although, when I had last heard about my castle, it was still upright… In a bad condition… but standing, none the less.

And yes, I said my castle, I’ll explain it later…

So, I guess my childhood wasn’t that blissful… but at least I had food and shelter, and moreover I survived my childhood alive, That’s something that not all the children in my time could boast about…

My father raised my brothers and me to be proud of our family name; He did everything he could possibly have done, to raise our family from the mud it had sunk to. It took almost all of his time, which was good, since he was a strong believer of physical punishment and so, the more he was concerned about making contacts or buying and selling the land, the less he paid attention to us.

But when the oldest of us, Jacques, turned 17, it was time to find a suitable bride for him. Since our village was quite a long way from other villages, the number of choices was low; but somehow, my father was able to persuade one of the village’s richest merchants to give his daughter’s hand to Jacques, The same happened, when Jean and Louis turned 17, they got into rich marriages, all thanks to my father.

I was soon, next in the running to be wed, but I had something else in my mind…

Ever since my father had taught me how to read, I had been constantly spending my time in our little library. The book collection was rather minute, but there were some of my mother’s old adventure books, which I just could not resist. My head was overflowing with exciting lands, odd people and miracles, although the age of knights and dragons was long gone, I was very fascinated with the idea of free travelling.

So, as you see Hermione, I wasn’t ready to be married, not by a long shot. Even though, the girl who I was supposed to marry was very pretty, the idea of being stuck in that trivial village for the rest of my life was just too unbearable for me. I was still young and I wanted to see the world, to have exciting adventures and meet new people, and so, at the age of 16, I left my family behind and went on my very own adventure.

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A/N So there you have it: my first story. I hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter as much I enjoyed writing it. Please, write a review once you've read it?

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