I

I

"Tell us again, Cedric," whined the girls who were crowding around the Hufflepuff table. "Tell us about the catch you made on Saturday. Please?"

Cedric Diggory smiled, flashing his perfect teeth and pushed his caramel hair away from his forehead. His blue eyes sparkled as he leaned forward on the table. "Oh, okay. Ravenclaw was playing great and Cho was circling high over the pitch watching for the snitch. I was tailing her, knowing that I could get to the snitch in a dive quicker than she could. I mean," he chuckled, "she's good and all, but my broom is much better than hers."

The girls swooned around him, chins in their hands, their eyes sparkling with admiration for their Quidditch hero. "Then what happened, Cedric," breathed a blonde haired girl who sat across the table from him.

He grinned roguishly and continued with his play-by-play retelling of the latest match against Ravenclaw. With each daring twist and dive, the girls gasped and cheered. They watched him with dreamy expressions on their faces, committing his pale blue eyes and tousled locks to memory for use in a thousand daydreams. Seemingly oblivious to his ability to entrance the females of Hogwarts, Cedric reveled in his status as the hero of the pitch.

Besides, the only female he wanted to entrance wasn't even in the room.

Harry was beginning to worry. No one had seen Hermione in hours, not since she had left the common room after dinner the night before. She had said she was going to the library to do some research for an essay for Professor Henxley, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It wasn't unlike Hermione to disappear into the library for hours on end, but Harry was going to check on her anyway. Knowing Hermione, she had fallen asleep at her study table with half of the contents of the library around her.

He left the Great Hall and turned up the stairs to the upper floors. Something didn't feel right to him. He could tell when Voldemort was nearby... or any kind of trouble for that matter... and he was getting that feeling now. The feeling made his skin crawl and his stomach tie in knots. Hermione was usually always in the common room before curfew. Harry knew that because he and Ron were accustomed to waiting up for her until she got back.

Madam Pince was just opening the wide doors of the library when Harry turned the corner into the corridor. The vulture-like woman glared at him as he slipped past her into the room. His emerald eyes searched the tables, looking desperately for the familiar form of Hermione's bushy hair splayed out over a pile of books. But Hermione wasn't there.

Harry returned to the front of the library, where Madam Pince was perched behind the desk. Her eyes watched him like those of a hawk as it stalked its prey. "Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" she said, her voice as old and crackling as the worn pages of her many books.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm looking for Hermione Granger. Have you seen her this morning?"

The librarian seemed to soften for an imperceptible moment at the mention of Hermione's name. "Good girl, that one," she mumbled. "Takes care of the books, respects them, she does." She turned her sharp eyes on him again. "No, Mr. Potter. I haven't seen Miss Granger since she left here last night. She was on her way to see Professor Snape about an assignment."

Several floors below, Hermione was lying on the bed, tremors racking through her. She was curled into a tight ball with her forehead pressed against her knees and her arms wrapped around her legs. Tears were sliding like crystals down her cheeks. The moment Severus broke contact with her, the pain and hunger spilled over her once again. The craving that overcame her mind was more than she thought she could manage. The smell of Cedric Diggory's blood filled her nostrils as the sound of it pulsing through his veins thundered in her ears.

She groaned and pulled her legs closer to her body. "Please," she moaned, her voice feeling raw in her throat. It sounded foreign to her own ears, deeper and more mystical. "Please, give me something. Make it stop!"

Severus Snape stood against the wall, watching her beneath long, dark lashes. He was troubled by her quick identification of a victim, especially of a male victim. It was more than troubling, it was devastating. Severus Snape had only bitten one person in his multitude of years as a vampire, and she was lying on the bed in agony. He had chosen her as his mate.

His eyes softened as he crossed over to her. "I will, Hermione. I will, but you must promise not to leave this spot until I get back."

"Where are you going?" she screeched, unwilling to be left alone with her pain and hunger.

"Into the next room. To get you some food. It will help with the pain, too, I promise." He pressed his palm to the back of her head and felt the tremors lessen at the touch. "You must trust me, Hermione."

She laughed painfully. "You said to never trust a vampire like you."

He smiled grimly as he left the bed and retreated to the next room to bring her something to eat. A small, Muggle-style cooler sat beneath a table in a shadowy corner and was hidden by a stack of books and parchment. Gingerly, Severus swept the piles to the side and retrieved the cooler, which was filled with packets of human blood. He removed several packets, knowing that Hermione would be thirsty. Pouring them in a bowl, he pushed the books back in place with his foot.

Hermione sat up with a jolt as she heard the blood sloshing in the bowl in the next room. For a brief moment, the sound and smell of it overpowered the strong essence of Cedric Diggory. She leapt up from the bed with a speed she was unaware that she possessed and sprinted through the open door. She was behind him before Severus had the chance to turn around.

Greedily, she grasped the bowl from his hands and drew the bowl to her lips. She drank deeply, tiny rivulets of blood sliding down her chin. Hermione sighed and licked her lips, an action that drew Snape's eyes. He grinned at the serene look on her face and traced the line of her jaw with the tips of his fingers. She leaned into the touch as he lifted her face toward his own.

He watched her closely, saw her eyes momentarily glow red before growing dark and smoky once more. The thirst had been sated for the moment and it would ease the pains that still racked her body. He knew how painful the transformation was, but also how much the touch of her maker would relax that suffering. The blood still dripped from her chin, an aroma that was stale to him but was enough for him to survive. He leaned forward and, closing his eyes, licked at the blood on her chin.

Hermione sank against him, feeling better than she had in hours. His body was cool and hard against her, but the touch was comforting and welcome. His breath was cold against her skin even though she was only a few degrees warmer than he. An herbal scent flowed around him from the hours he spent with potions ingredients.

"Thank you," she murmured, raising her hand to place it against his cold cheek. "I feel much better now."

He smiled and placed his hand over hers. "You're welcome." He took her hand in his own and led her back to the bedroom. "Sit on the bed, Hermione. I believe we need to talk."

Hermione did what she was told, slightly unnerved by the loss of his touch. He retreated to the other side of the room, folding his arms over his chest. "I want you to know that you are the first person I have bitten since I became what I am now. I have been tempted many times, but you are the first to have caused me to succumb. There is no excuse for what I have done, only the reason that, in my mind, was perfectly rational."

"And what was that reason?" she asked, drawing her knees back up and wrapping her arms around herself. She felt an overwhelming connection with him, a connection that warred with the desire for Cedric Diggory.

"I have lived alone for two hundred years, Hermione. I have known many brilliant, interesting people in my lifetime. But you are entirely unique. If I must live into eternity, I do not want to live it alone." He looked at her sheepishly, trying to hide his eyes beneath his dark lashes. "I wanted you as my mate."

Suddenly he jerked his eyes away from her and turned his face upward, looking at the ceiling. His dark eyes dilated and his nostrils flared. "Potter's coming," he growled. He threw a quick glance at Hermione before sweeping from the room. "Don't leave this room," his voice murmured in her head. "You're not ready to be around them yet."

The anxiety returned as soon as Severus left the room. The hunger had lessened after the food he had given her. She could hear the beating of Harry's heart as he drew closer, smell the blood that pumped through him. Hermione licked her lips absently, yearning to go after him, but she kept her promise to her maker. She stayed put.

Harry could hear footsteps coming down the corridor toward him. They were heavy and yet still lithe. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as Severus Snape turned the corner. For a moment they stared at each other, the dead look in Snape's matching the hate-filled one in Harry's.

"What on earth are you doing down here on a Saturday morning, Mr. Potter?" said Snape smoothly. "An answer, Potter, and quickly."

Harry felt the skin on his arms rise with goose flesh at the unusually biting glare in the Potion master's eyes. "I'm looking for Hermione, Professor. Madam Pince said she came to see you last night about an assignment."

"She did," he replied tersely. "But she left my office before curfew. I have not seen her since."

"Are you sure about that, Professor? Because, you see, no one else has seen her since she left the library last night."

The air around Snape seemed to crackle with the anger emanating off him as he stood, glaring at Harry. "I have told you that I have not seen Miss Granger since she left my office at nine thirty last night. I am sure she has simply slipped into her room without your knowing. Now, please get back up to the main school before I have you pickling frog's eyes for the rest of the day!" With that, Snape turned on his heel and stomped back off down the corridor.

He watched the older man's retreating back for a moment before turning and climbing the stairs back up to the entrance hall. He was lost in his own thoughts, following the instinctual, well-worn path from the dungeons to the Great Hall.

"Easy there, Harry," came Cedric's voice as he put out his hands to keep them from crashing into each other. "You okay?"

Harry seemed to emerge from a daze as his eyes focused on the form of Cedric Diggory in front of him. "Oh, hey, Ced. No, I'm okay. It's just that nobody's seen Hermione since last night."