Creature of the Night

Hermione cracked one eye, leery of where she was at. When a blurred version of McGonagall’s face swam into her sight, she opened both eyes and tried to sit up.

“Whoa, easy does it,” a male voice soothed, easing her back down with a gentle push on her chest. “You had a hard fall.”

“Where am I now?” Hermione sighed, getting rather tired of waking up in different places.

McGonagall exchanged a worried look with Dumbledore.

“Don’t you remember? You were helping the vampires cast a spell when you fainted,” the teacher supplied.

“But that was ages ago!” Hermione protested, sitting up again. She saw Harry and jumped to her feet, ignoring the fearful looks from McGonagall.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, pleasantly surprised to see him. “When did you arrive? How’s training going? Fought any Dark Magic yet?”

“W-w-what are you talking about?” Harry stammered, his eyes blazing with helplessness.

“Your new life with the Order, of course! Didn’t you drop out because the Order recruited you?” Hermione sighed, exasperated.

Harry blushed fiercely and McGonagall grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, roughly spinning her around and shaking her.

“How did you know about that? Harry hasn’t even made his decision yet!”

“I saw it,” Hermione explained, her voice faltering. “Harry came to me in the Hospital Wing and said that he was leaving Hogwarts to join the Order.” She caught sight of McGonagall’s red-rimmed eyes and frowned.

“Professor, have you been crying?”

“No,” McGonagall lied, wiping unnecessarily at her eyes. “Of course not.”

“If you will pardon us, Headmasters,” the vampire known as Alexei spoke. “Zia has a theory about Lady Granger’s experience.”

“Of course.” Dumbledore smiled, despite the solemnity of the situation.

Zia stepped forward and gave Hermione a reassuring smile.

“I have read stories of mortals who cast spells with vampires. Sometimes, depending on the intent of the spell, very gifted spellcasters can tap into the underlying energies. For instance, because the spell was about protection, Lady Granger somehow accessed Master Potter’s future. It’s all a very complicated thing.”

“So, you’re saying that the whole last couple of weeks I lived through were actually just a dream I had about the future?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Zia answered. “Have you had any other experiences with prescience?”

Hermione stifled a giggle. “No. In fact, I found Divination to be useless and completely undignified.”

“Headmasters, there is a great a deal we need to discuss, especially in light of Lady Granger’s unusual experience,” Alexei interrupted.

“Absolutely,” Dumbledore agreed. “How about dawn, a week from now?”

Alexei turned to Azrael and Zia. The vampire trio held conference for a minute before they returned to Dumbledore and nodded.

“Dawn, a week from now,” Azrael repeated.

<><><><><>

A week later, Hermione stifled a yawn as she sat opposite of Dumbledore. It was sometime in the early morning, and the other Gryffindors had kept her up all night with incessant questions. For the last week, she couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded about her vampire “friends”. It gave her a headache, most of the time, and she had to resist the urge to curse the ears off the next person who asked her about Zia and her coven.

“Long night, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked with twinkling eyes. Hermione nodded and smiled, all while trying to subdue another yawn. She stood up from the comfortable chintz armchair that the Headmaster had Transfigured for her and stood beside the large open window.

McGonagall growled menacingly at the window without interrupting her stride. She continued pacing next to Dumbledore’s desk, occasionally muttering and shooting dark looks at the window.

Hermione looked out over the Scottish landscape, slightly amazed by the inherent beauty that Mother Nature possessed. The sky was tinted a grayish blue color that reminded Hermione of old woolen socks. She shook that thought out of her mind as McGonagall suddenly stopped and gestured angrily to the window.

“They are late, Albus! How can we trust them with something this important if they can’t even keep a simple appointment?” the Deputy Headmistress shrieked.

As if on cue, three hooded and cloaked beings flew in through the window, landing gracefully on the carpet. All of them had managed to land on one bended knee, bowing to the fuming McGonagall.

“You’re late,” she scowled, her bunny-slippered feet tapping impatiently. “What could possibly have taken this long?”

“We’re sorry, milady,” one of them said, obviously a male. He stood and pulled his hood back, licking the last traces of a red liquid from his mouth as he did so. “But we had some fast food this morning.”

McGonagall harrumphed in disgust before she turned to Hermione.

“Hermione, I’m sure that you remember Azrael and Alexei,” Dumbledore reintroduced them. “And I suppose that you haven’t forgotten Zia, either.” Hermione smiled at them while trying to hold her yawn. Zia giggled, but tapered off as Azrael gave her a warning look.

“We did not know you were going to bring the girl to the meeting,” Azrael said bluntly.

“Since it concerns her, I thought it best to let her have an active part in the discussions,” Dumbledore shrugged. “Shall we being?”

Azrael crossed his arms in front of his chest but nodded.

“Hermione,” Dumbledore said quietly. “We have an offer for you.”

“What kind of offer?” inquired the sleepy young witch.

“In the past, Voldemort has tried to recruit vampires to join his cause. I’m not sure if you know this or not, but vampires are very efficient killing machines. And although they pride themselves on being no one’s pawn, sometimes the thirst is just too much.

“So, we are asking you to act as a spy for the Order. Infiltrate the vampire society and learn anything you can about what Voldemort may be doing within their ranks. But, there is a catch.”

“There’s always a catch,” Hermione muttered darkly.

“You would need to become a partial vampire.”

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted as she stood up, all fatigue gone. “You want me to become a vampire?”

“Not a full-fledged one,” McGonagall explained soothingly. “A demi-vampire, if you will. Using a special potion, we will replace exactly one-half of all your blood with vampire blood.”

“Is it reversible?”

The mortals shared uneasy looks and Azrael stepped forward.

“The reversal potion is much harder to make. The ingredients are exceedingly rare, and even if the potion is successfully brewed, many people do not survive.” Seeing the horrified look on Hermione’s face, Azrael softened a small bit as he continued.

“Do not misinterpret me. The people do not die from the potion; most of them have committed suicide. Once you become a vampire, even a partial one, you form a connection with the night. Darkness becomes a haven from the tortures of reality and such. Once people lose that, they lose all feelings of security and fall into a rapid downward spiral.”

“I’m not seeing many pros to this,” Hermione interjected sullenly. “You want me to risk my life for a bit of information?”

“It is part of being a member of the Order. If you truly wanted to defeat Voldemort, you would take this risk and help the Light in any way you possibly could,” Dumbledore told the girl wearily. “Please, Hermione. You are the best possible candidate. No one will be surprised if you are taken under their wing; you are already connected with the vampires. And the vampire blood could conceivably help to nurture any further premonitions.”

“How about this?” Zia suddenly spoke. “What if we go ahead and brew the potion? It takes a good week or two anyway, correct? While we’re brewing it, Hermione could debate whether or not she wants to help. If not, then we have a potion for the next candidate. And if she does, then we can begin the process.”

“I like that idea,” smiled Hermione.

“Very well,” Dumbledore sighed. McGonagall, Azrael, and Alexei all shared similar murmurs of assent.

“In two weeks, the fate of the entire world will be placed in Miss Granger’s capable hands.”

Hermione gulped. They certainly weren’t piling on the pressure, were they?