Chapter 7

"Here," Snape ordered gently, "drink this." He handed Charlie a vial of dark blue liquid.

Charlie didn't even ask as to the contents of the proffered glass tube, taking it and knocking it back quickly, gagging from the taste. "What was in that? Tasted like rat piss." He coughed.

Arching a brow, the Potions master smirked. "And how would you know what rat piss tastes like?"

"Sod off," the redhead muttered, handing back the empty vial. He then yawned widely and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed, rubbing his gritty eyes.

"Lie down and get some rest."

"Don't wanna," he slurred, doing as his master asked him to do, contrary to his words of protestation.

Dragging him further up the bed, so he could be covered with the duvet, Snape bade Charlie rest once more, before the former dragon-keeper succumbed to the Calming Draught he'd been given to drink.

Snape had been able to tell something had been horribly wrong when the younger man hadn't even commented on his state of nudity, instead allowing himself to be led around and obeying without resistance, not that he ever offered much anyway.

He had to give the boy credit, really. He had secured them passage from Romania to Britain via boat and rail, since Apparating and Disapparating were difficult for a newly made vampire, even a wizard one...something to do with molecules and dead matter, and the very high possibility of splinching. Severus had wisely taken Radu's advice to travel by conventional methods the first time around, until the nuances of being a vampire and a wizard had become second nature to him. In the course of their travels, Charlie had stayed awake at night and slept little during the days, and the toll of that was now becoming apparent. When they returned to Romania, Snape would have to ask Radu how a familiar was supposed to function with little sleep, when what sleep he did get was provided by sleeping draughts or something else just as addictive.

Thinking to stay longer with the Novăceştii than he had, as when he had arrived it was a mere two weeks before Hermione's birthday, Snape hadn't had that much time to learn all that encompassed vampire behaviour. Radu had given him as much information as he could, before sending him and Charlie on their way back to Britain with the promise they would soon return to the safety of the coven. So far, they'd been in London for a night now, and if the itch crawling up his spine was anything to go by, it would be dawn in about an hour.

Glancing at his unconscious familiar, Severus retrieved the black travelling cloak he'd arrived in, wrapped it around his pale body, and stepped out of the bedroom to make his way to the kitchen. "Hermione?" he called, stopping in the entryway.

"Severus?" she whimpered from her curled position on the floor next to Ron's body.

He advanced slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, and bent low to scoop her up in his embrace. She went willingly, wrapping her sticky arms around his neck and burying her face against his collarbone. He then strode down the hallway until he found her bathroom and opened the door, closing it quietly behind them with a nudge of his heel. Depositing Hermione on the toilette lid, he began running hot water into the large, claw-foot tub and selected lavender-scented oil from amongst her cache of bath items. Once the water filled the tub halfway, he turned off the taps, and pulled Hermione to a standing position, disrobing her in the process. Then, he shrugged off his own cloak and picked her up, stepping into the relaxing warmth both of them needed at that moment.

Sinking low, he lay back and brought her to rest against his chest, sluicing cupfuls of hot liquid over her blood-matted tresses. Sitting up a little, he sampled the smells from the shampoo bottles gathered along the ledge of the tub, choosing one that he closely associated with Hermione's own unique scent. Pouring a generous dollop onto his palm, he started massaging the long curls into a thick lather, and dug his fingertips into her scalp. When she moaned he pressed a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Perhaps it was not wise for you to handle Mister Weasley by yourself," he offered softly. He twisted her soapy strands and piled them atop her head. "This life is still new to you." He plucked a blue flannel from her stack of linen, wetted it, and squeezed a creamy liquid onto it, rubbing until it resembled the foam in her hair. "You haven't had time to deal with the consequences of taking a life, like I have." Gently, he pressed the cloth to the skin on her shoulder and began a circular massage, to remove all the traces of her former best friend's blood from her skin.

"I don't regret taking his life," she whispered, leaning forward to rest her cheek on her raised knees. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment the lower his strokes went. "It needed to be done for many reasons."

He paused for a moment, but finally pressed on. "Then why were you crying?"

She watched her pale fingers move underneath the water as they touched his left leg, idly caressing his calf. "You were never there to see, but I cried when I was first kissed, when I was accepted to Hogwarts, when anything significant happened in my life." Lifting her hand from the water, she studied the still light skin, somewhat amused that it hadn't turned red from the heat. "I guess the last three years caught up with me, and I broke down."

Severus carried on with his ministrations, unsure of what more to say. His previous belief...that Hermione would be a burden to live with for the rest of his unnatural life...had been proven wholly unfounded; he truly cared for her. It might have taken an exchange of blood, him claiming her as a bond mate and converting her in the process to bring his emotions to just below the surface, but, in retrospect, he would not have changed his fate. Unable to voice his sympathy, he showed her, through soft and lingering touches, the heightened sense of smell that invoked pleasant memories, and the comfort of being in one another's presence.

The water was now tinged a dark pink from all the blood that had been washed from her body, so he began kneading the taut muscles at the juncture of her neck and shoulders, helping them both relax. "Charles is asleep in your bed. Is there another place we may rest that is free of sunlight and surprises?"

Tilting her head back at his insistence, she closed her eyes when he poured clean water over her hair to rinse out the shampoo. "There's a room I use for storage down the hall. It has no windows and we can ward the door."

He placed his hands on her hips and turned her to face him. "What do you want to do about Mister Weasley?"

Blowing out a heavy sigh, she grimaced. "Can't we let Charlie take care of it?"

His brows drew together. "I don't think we can ask that of him, Hermione." He pushed several already frizzing strands away from her face. "He may be my familiar, and compelled to follow my orders, but I do have a heart." He gave her a wink. "Contrary to popular belief."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "Severus?" she mumbled. "Why am I so tired all of a sudden?"

Rising from the tub, he grabbed a towel and wrapped her hair in it before lifting her from the basin. "It's dawn," he said, patting her skin dry with the other linen. "Vampires tend to doze off without much warning when the sun hits the horizon."

But she didn't hear his explanation. He felt her go completely lax and chuckled to himself, remembering that he'd done the same thing for months before he began to anticipate the coming dawn or evening hours. Seeing that she was sufficiently free of any remaining fluid, he took the towel, which had absorbed any moisture, from her head and picked her up, cradling her close as he went in search of the room she'd mentioned. Once he found it, he groaned when he spotted nothing in the room but heaps of old clothes and a moth-eaten overstuffed chair.

He closed the door and settled on the chair with her in his lap, fighting the drowsiness that was quickly making its way into his limbs, nonverbally Summoning several articles of clothing and covering them as best he could before passing out himself. After warding the door, he buried his nose in the crux of her neck and promptly succumbed to his need to sleep.

~*~

The pounding in his brain wouldn't stop.

"Sshurt mup."

It just got louder, accompanied by a yell that annoyed his arse like no other.

Molly Weasley.

"Ronald Weasley?" the matriarch shouted from the corridor that led to each flat. "You'd best be at the store! George's taken ill again."

Unsure of whether to answer the door or not, Charlie wiped his face, glanced at the bedside clock that read just after noon, and rolled off the bed, running his fingers through his spiky locks. Meandering out into the sitting room, he looked around the tiny area. It wasn't too bad, but if a person went anywhere near the kitchen they'd see splatters of blood on the walls, floor... not to mention the dead body that was starting to smell rather pungent.

"I know you're in there with that scarlet woman!"

He rolled his eyes at his mother. She had never given up the attitude that Hermione was stringing Ron, if not all the men around her, along and that she would never commit to anyone. All because of that Skeeter bitch in her fourth year and that stupidly ill-timed photograph of Hermione hugging Harry before the first task.

He honestly couldn't wait until Severus, or even Hermione, took a bite out of her nagging arse.

"If you don't open this door in two seconds, I'll..."

"Hello, Mum."

Surprised to have the door open and her second child appear, Molly pressed her hand to her chest. "Charlie!" She smiled, then immediately frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Smirking, he licked his lips. "Shacking up with the scarlet woman."

"Charlie, for Merlin's sake, be serious for once." Her hands rested on her round hips. "George has done a runner again, and no one's opened up the shop." She looked over his shoulder into the flat. "Is Ron sleeping on her sofa again?"

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, Charlie shrugged. "He's lying around here... somewhere."

"Well, let me in! I've got to wake him so he can..."

"Sorry, Mum," he said, blocking her path. "It's not my place, and you're not an invited guest, so I can't let you in."

"Nonsense," she barked, barrelling her way past him. "He's my son, and she's done using..." Her words died in her throat the moment she took in the state of the kitchen.

Before she could let out the scream that was welling in her chest, Charlie clamped one hand over her mouth, shutting the door with his wand and reinforcing the silencing spells and wards. Stuffing his wand in his back pocket, he pulled his mother close, tightening his arm around her.

"Oh, Mother dearest," he drawled sarcastically. "Ron was pathetically deluded in his infatuation with Hermione." Leaning to the right, he grabbed the material of his mother's calico skirt and tugged it upwards until her holster was revealed, so he could slide the nine-inch springy reed wand from its sheath. "I'll just keep this for now." He tucked it away next to his own.

"Now," he said, pushing her closer to the kitchen, "let's get some things straight, shall we?" He practically shoved her when she struggled and began screaming behind his hand. "She never used him and she never encouraged him."

Unexpectedly, Molly kicked him on his shin, breaking free of his grasp. "You monster!" she shrieked and pointed at the mangled remains on the tile floor. "How could you do this?"

Snorting with laughter, Charlie shook his head. "I didn't do that... Mummy."

Reaching out her hands, she cupped his face, tears coursing down her cheeks. "What did she do to you, baby?"

"Do?" he asked, confused. "She didn't do anything to me." He forcibly removed her hands.

"But I don't understand." She was weeping. Turning away from Charlie, she made her way into the kitchen, her shoes squelching in the sticky puddles of blood that remained on the floor, and knelt next to Ron. "He was such a good boy."

"Then you're as deluded as he was."

There was a loud thwack, and Molly joined her son on the floor, unconscious.

~*~

Stretching, Hermione groaned when the muscles in her back protested. "Severus?" She could see in the pitch blackness, but she still wanted the comfort of his voice.

"Mmmh."

"Wake up." She prodded him in the side, giggling when he growled at her. "I'm hungry," she said meekly.

Yawning, he arched his back as well, nearly dumping her on the Berber carpet. "Well, shouldn't keep Princess waiting, should I?"

"Well, being the wife of a grumpy vampire does require a great deal of sustenance."

Both stilled at her words...he from shock and she from feeling she'd gone too far, too fast.

"I-I'm sorry," she backpedalled, moving from his lap.

His hand caught her wrist and tugged her back to straddle his thighs. "What are you sorry for?" Caressing her skin, his fingers made their way up her arms, until his palm cupped her cheek. "Do you not want to be my wife?"

She threaded her fingers through his, capturing his palm, and nuzzling it. "Aren't we more than husband and wife now?"

Bringing her face down, he met her mouth with his for a heated kiss. "Much more." He shifted his pelvis, rubbing his hardened shaft along her moist nether lips.

"Are you two decent in there?" Charlie asked with a knock. "If not, you'd better be by the time I open this door." They could hear him fiddling with the knob. "One... two... "

"I swear, one of these days, I will kill that boy myself," Severus said with a snarl.

"Three!" Having dismantled the wards, Charlie popped open the door and stood there, smirking at the two vampires who were completely nude and, from the looks of things, about to shag. "Rise and dine, sleepy-heads." He snorted at their aroused state. "I have the best timing."

Hermione dissolved into a fit of laughter while Severus threw a jinx his way, but Charlie side-stepped to the left just in time to miss it. "Why are you barging in on us, anyway?"

Charlie immediately sobered. "We have a visitor."

~*~

"I Imperiused her to a write letter to Dad, telling him she was taking care of George for the evening, and not to wait up," Charlie explained to his master. "He'll do as she says."

Molly had been restrained much the same way Ron had, complete with silvery cords and a Silencing Charm.

"Her wand?" Hermione asked. Both she and Severus had dressed to deal with the problem, she in faded blue jeans and dark green jumper, and he in the black linen trousers and white dress shirt.

Charlie handed it to her. She looked it over. "I like this; it's light."

Severus frowned. "Where's yours?"

"It was taken by Snatchers when we were hunting for Horcruxes."

"That was years ago!" Snape attested incredulously. "What have you been using since then?"

Withdrawing the angled hawthorn stick from her wrist sheath, she held it out to Severus. "Bellatrix's wand." When he continued to stare instead of taking it, she huffed. "I had to make do when we escaped the Malfoys."

He took it from her, sneering in revulsion. "Ronald Weasley cast his Obliviate on me with this."

"That explains quite a few things," Hermione confirmed, and Charlie agreed with her.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked up to begin with." He snorted, shaking his head. "Imagine what it could do in the hands of someone incompetent."

Lips thinly pursed, Severus pocketed the stick.

"Hey!" Hermione protested. "That's mine!"

"No, it was Bella's, and it shall remain Bella's."

"Oh, so it's Bella now, is it?" she seethed, jealousy apparent in her tone. "Guess we know what you were really up to at those Death Eater revels!"

"You do not, nor will you ever know, what went on," Severus hissed, his eyes flaring indigo as he stared her down. "It's Dark magic, Hermione. It will taint you."

She crossed her arms in defiance. "How do you know it hasn't already?"

Unbidden, he glanced at the body in the kitchen. "I can't say that it hasn't."

"Why you..."

"Ahem!" Charlie cleared his throat. When they were both silent, he continued, "Now, if you're done acting like spoiled children..."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape huffed in an affronted manner.

"Beg all you want, Master." The redhead had a decidedly mischievous look about him.

Snape moved to throttle the young man, but Hermione put her hand on his chest, stopping him. "He's poking at you," she illuminated with a chuckle. "He's just saying he loves you, that's all."

Both men looked at her like she'd grown four heads. She shrugged. "When you've been around the male species long enough, you learn to decode their actions and words."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Severus turned to their captive. He removed the Silencing Charm, but kept her bound. "Why are you here?"

"You're supposed to be dead!" Molly screeched, hurting the vampires' ears. "We all saw it: the blood on the floor, Lucius confirming he sent you to the Shack...all of it!"

Leaning closer, Severus inhaled deeply, his mouth watering. "Lucius is alive?" That did not sit well with him.

"That whole rotted family is still alive," Hermione offered when Molly refused to answer him.

"Charles, in my leather case there is a small green vial of clear liquid. Fetch it for me."

After Charlie left, Hermione laid her hand on his arm. "We can't let her go." She nodded in Molly's direction.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he assuaged her worry. "She won't be going anywhere, but I want some answers." He patted her hand. "I've been away for three years, and there's much to learn."

"But I could tell..."

"Hermione," he spoke her name sternly. It sent a prickle up her spine and she felt compelled to obey. "You have been searching for me these past years and have been somewhat of a recluse, if what Charles has told me is true. You do not know the state of things at this time." Seeing her crestfallen expression, he chucked her under her chin. "It's not personal, believe me."

She didn't answer until Charlie came back bearing the bottle Snape asked for. "Snitch," she muttered.

"What did I do?"

"You told me of her life up until last night," Severus informed him with a smirk. "She feels you betrayed her."

"I couldn't exactly help it, you know. I mean, Mum was writing me constantly about how you and Ron were for all intents and purposes, 'living in sin'." He gestured with air quotes.

"Harlot!" Molly cried and spat on Hermione's pant leg.

There was a loud crack when the back of Severus' hand landed across the Weasley matriarch's cheek. "Never call her such a thing again!"

Molly sobbed from the pain of the very broken bones in her face. "Murderers," she slurred.

"Undoubtedly." Snape prodded her mouth open and poured half the contents of the vial down her throat. "Now, Madam Weasley. Where is your family?"

Hermione had to give her credit as the old woman tried to resist the effects of the Veritaserum.

"Go... to... "

"Madam, I have been living in Hell the last three years because of your son!" Snape thundered. "Now, tell me, where is George?"

"I don't know," Molly spluttered.

Charlie laid a hand on Severus' tense shoulder. "I know where he is," he said softly with a catch in his throat. "He won't be an issue."

Turning his attention to his familiar, Snape used Legilimency, and...just as Radu had said...the power was increased exponentially. The ease with which he slipped into Charlie's mind was frightening and exhilarating all at once. He didn't have to search for the information, as the boy's memories...all of them, every blessed single one...were laid bare before him.

"Yes," Snape murmured, patting the hand still residing on his shoulder. "He won't be a problem."

"Where is George?" Molly beseeched.

"Gone," Hermione surmised between the anguished look on Charlie's face and the regret on Severus'.

"My Georgie!" Molly wailed, thrashing side to side to get free. "My babies!"

"Silence, woman!" Snape's fangs had descended, and his nostrils flared upon scenting the adrenalin-infused blood flowing through the portly witch. "Where is William?"

"Sh-Shell Cottage, with Fleur." Tears swelled in her red-rimmed eyes.

Nodding, he began licking his lips. "Percy?"

"Aide to Kingsley Shacklebolt," Charlie murmured when he saw that his mother was trying to fight the compulsion.

"Ministry, I assume?" Snape directed his question to Molly. "Is he glued to Shacklebolt's backside like he was with Fudge?"

"Y-Yes!" she screamed.

Leaning closer, Severus allowed her to see the dark and menacing look that had overcome his features. "Ginevra?"

"Not my daughter, not my daughter!"

"Most definitely your daughter," Hermione piped in. "If anyone were a scarlet woman, it would have to be her."

"Bitch! You lie! My precious baby girl would..."

"Your precious baby slept with all the players in the Penzance Pirates Quidditch club." Hermione crossed her arms and curled her lip. "And, not that it's any of your business, but I was a virgin until last night."

Charlie smacked Severus on the shoulder. "You sly dog, you!"

"Shut up!" both vampires ordered in unison. Severus raised a brow. "Well? Ginevra's location, if you would."

"She's a Quidditch announcer for the Salisbury Slingers," Charlie commented. "I've heard she spends a lot of time with Malfoy Junior these days."

Of course Molly had denied it in the past, saying that Ginny had been meant for Harry Potter, but since Harry hadn't been heard from in months, the girl had had to look at other prospects before she lost her flawless beauty. Hermione, in a lucid moment between stupors and sleepless nights, had spoken with Harry shortly before he'd 'disappeared'. He'd said he was going to travel and see the world...looking for signs of Snape along the way...and experience life like he'd never had the chance to do before. She sincerely hoped that he was sunning himself on a tropical beach somewhere, drunk on Cuervo, and chasing after pretty girls.

"And last, but never least," Severus drawled, pushing the collar of Molly's shirt away from her throbbing pulse, "Arthur, if you please."

Hermione's eyes zeroed in on the woman's thick neck and she practically drooled. "Severus," she whimpered. "I'm so hungry."

"Soon, love. Soon."

"Ministry, but should be home now," Molly sobbed. She started struggling anew. "You're all damned for this! Especially you, Charles Gaylord Weasley!"

"I hate that name!" Charlie snarled. "I swear, your nagging is what drove George to drink!"

"George didn't drink!" she vehemently refuted.

"You live in a constant state of denial, don't you?"

Unable to help herself, Hermione sniggered. "Gaylord."

"Don't."

"Sure... Gaylord."

"And you said I acted like a child?" Snape drawled. "Hermione, you're starting to shake. You need to eat."

Without warning, she punched a hole in Molly's throat and ripped out her windpipe. "There, Charlie," Hermione said casually. "She can't nag you anymore."

Once Severus saw and smelled the blood, the lust flooded his system, as he and his mate latched onto either side of the Weasley matriarch's neck, gorging themselves on the copious amounts of crimson liquid that gushed forth from her mortal wound. Molly lasted a few seconds before her heartbeat slowed to nothing.

When the witch's skin was marble-white, having been drained of all her blood, both vampires sat on the floor, bloated. Smacking her lips, Hermione tasted something off, and then remembered that Severus had given the woman the truth serum before killing her. Her previous insecurities compelled her to question him.

"Severus?"

"Mmmh?" he grunted.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," he immediately said without thought. Wait. "Bloody hell, Miss Granger!" he growled, knowing what she was up to.

She giggled and crawled on her hands and knees to sit in his lap. "It's okay." She rubbed soothing circles on his full stomach. "I love you, too."

"I'm going to get cavities from all the sweetness," Charlie observed with a fake gag.

"Why are you still here?"

"What? No thank you, Charlie, for bringing us our evening meal?"

"It was your mother," Hermione said. "How hard was it?"

"Quite hard, if you ask me." He sat on the sofa and glared at the vampires. "You didn't have to sit and listen to her nag for six hours."

"Why didn't you just silence her then?"

"Because if I let her run her mouth, she wouldn't move her legs, which...even with the Body-Bind...she kicked me in the bollocks twice!"

"Aw, poor Charlie," she said in mock sympathy. "Do you have bruised balls?"

Snape snorted.

"Ha, bloody, ha!" The redhead stood and pulled up the body of his mother, now significantly lighter. He started dragging her to the kitchen when Hermione stopped him.

"Wait! I need to practice my stitching."

Cocking his head to the side, Severus studied his mate. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see," she promised with a wicked grin.