Creature of the Night

The weeks flew by without anything drastic happening. It was a welcome relief to Harry, who was constantly praying for a "quiet" school year. Hermione tried to share in her friend's joy, but every waking moment was like torture for her. A feeling of barely-stifled excitement was constantly thrumming beneath her skin, causing the young witch to always feel on edge and irritated.

Ron chalked it up to PMS, and since Harry was avoiding her anyway, it wasn't hard for Hermione to escape the Gryffindor Tower and take a welcome break beside the lake.

It was chilly, even for September, and Hermione had taken her new cloak. Hoping for a few anxiety-free minutes, Hermione was about to scream when she sat down on the cold ground and realized that being outside only increased the feeling. Sobbing quietly in her hands, Hermione drew her knees into her chest and hugged them tightly; she couldn't live like this forever. Something was bound to happen eventually, and it had better happen soon. The teenaged girl didn't know how long she stand this horrible, horrible tension.

Exactly one month after her cloak had arrived via Mysterious Raven Mail, Gryffindor held its first Quidditch match against Slytherin. The stadium was a sea of red-gold and green-silver, and filled with the roars of the waiting students. Hermione yelled with her classmates, her inner tension drowned out by the zealous crowd.

The score stayed even for most of the game, and just as Hermione was beginning to tire, Harry caught the Snitch. Hermione was instantly on her feet, running for the pitch to congratulate Harry. All previous feuds forgotten, she ran into his open arms and hugged him tightly.

"Good job, Harry!" she whispered into his ear, fighting back the tears. They pulled apart, and that's when Hermione noticed the gash along his left arm. Harry caught her looking at it and grinned.

"One of the Beaters nicked me with their bat," he explained, but Hermione found herself irresistibly drawn to the blood oozing out of the scrap. Suddenly, her mouth was on his arm, and she was drinking up the blood.

Rationally, Hermione had no idea why she was doing this. But irrationally, she was loving it. The tension had finally disappeared, and her body felt alive. She could feel her very nerves tingling with something powerful, and the salty taste on her tongue was like a fine wine to her. Gradually, she began to notice that the anxiety beneath her skin was dissapating into hundreds of separate heartbeats. With her eyes closed, she could still see for miles, uninterrupted. She felt light-headed and giddy while, at the same, feeling more grounded in reality than she'd ever been before. All in all, it was a very interesting experience, and one that ended only when Hermione remembered that Harry needed his blood too.

By the time the teachers got through the crowd surrounding them, Hermione was only vaguely aware of anything. She could feel Harry's heart beating slower than normal and she dimly wondered if she'd done that.

Oh well, she thought. It was worth it.

And then everything faded out.

Hermione was in a room that she knew wasn’t a room. There were four walls, but she knew that they were actually non-existent, put there by her mind. There was a window in one of the walls that looked out into inky blackness, but Hermione knew that the window was just a trick of her disillusioned mind.

“Don’t think too much about it,” a lilting, female voice warned from somewhere above Hermione’s head. “Otherwise, you’ll go insane.”

“Where am I? Why am I here?” Hermione asked, her voice echoing slightly.

The speaker landed silently onto the floor in front of Hermione. The new arrival wore a black hooded robe that completely covered everything and made it impossible for her to see beneath the folds.

Hermione sighed and the "room" rippled slightly.

“Call this a rift in the fabric of reality, if you will. A very long time ago, a Muggle and a wizard worked together to create a race of 'super soliders'. What they ended up creating was the first vampire. This first vampire was called Janus, and he created this place where he could hide from persecution.”

The hooded figure paused and seemed to sway uncertainly before continuing on.

“For almost a century, Janus struggled to understand his new thirst, and inadvertently created several fledgling vampires. Janus and his children only left to feed, and nothing else; many grew up not knowing that there was an entire world outside of themselves. All that changed when Deimos, a vampire changed by Janus himself, confronted a group of wizards and told them the truth. So the curtain of fear and ignorance that surrounded vampires was slowly lifted.”

“Wasn’t Deimos the Greek deity of fear?” Hermione interrupted, her voice echoing again.

“Yes, and Janus was the Roman god of beginnings and gateways. In the beginning, vampires chose new names so they could fully remove themselves from their mortal lives. They chose their names well.” Hermione thought she could detect a hint of approval in the speaker's voice, and the witch smiled.

The room shifted, and Hermione knew that something had changed. But the exact difference eluded her.

The speaker continued, “I can’t tell you why you’re here; you’re not ready to know yet. However, it’s time to return to reality.”

With inhuman strength, the hooded figure shoved Hermione into one of the walls. The non-existent boundaries shattered, sending Hermione plummeting back to the ground...

...Voices surrounded her, whispering and crying. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Dumbledore was sitting next to her, on the bed.

“What is going on?” Hermione demanded in a hoarse voice that did not belong to her. “What happened to me?”

“It would be best if they explained it,” the Headmaster said simply, motioning to a group of figures who wore hooded robes exactly like the speaker had.

“But since they are otherwise detained, I suppose my limited knowledge will have to suffice.”

Dumbledore sat silently for a moment, sorting through the jumbled thoughts in his head. He wished he’d had a moment to use the Pensieve before coming to the Hospital Wing. But that was irrelevant now, and he realized it.

“Miss Granger... Hermione...” Dumbledore paused again, still unsure if he should tell her the truth or make up some soothing falsehood. “You have been stricken by an extremely, extremely rare form of vampirism. In all recorded history, you are only the third person to suffer from it. From what I can gather, someone fed you vampire blood at a very young age. Instead of changing you, or killing you, your body simply adapted to it. It gave you innate skills that most people do not possess.”

“Like what?” Hermione again demanded, starting to believe that Dumbledore had finally fallen off his rocker.

“Your above-average intelligence, for one. Your ease at learning advanced spells and retaining them. And a sort of prescience. Do you have déjà vu often?”

Hermione nodded, still not wanting to believe.

“This, I am told, is another gift from the vampire blood.”

“How can they be sure that I’m not just a really smart girl?”

“I'm not quite sure, Hermione,” Dumbledore responded wearily.

Hermione caught sight of a tearful McGonagall sipping Pepper-Up Potion and receiving consolation from Madam Pomfrey. What was she so upset about anyway?

“What about Professor McGonagall?”

“She refuses to say,” Dumbledore answered, but Hermione got the distinct feeling that he was lying.

Meanwhile, three hooded figures had broken away from the group and approached Dumbledore. In hushed, hurried voices the four talked. Hermione didn't like how Dumbledore's twinkle was slowly losing its luster.

After a while, Dumbledore came back to Hermione's side. His eyes were sad and weary.

"I had to send out an owl for a vampire to confirm that you indeed carry vampire blood. A whole coven answered and each one has declared

“You are now part of their coven. Zia has claimed you as her adopted child of sorts.”

“Can I still attend Hogwarts?” Hermione asked faintly, trying to absorb what was going on.

“Of course,” Dumbledore answered with attempted cheeriness. “We’ve had a long history of vampire students. You shall be no different.”