Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I play with them as I like, but alas, they are not mine. Neither these charcaters nor this world in general belongs to me, or anyone not named J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: I want to thank my fantastic beta Pigwig for all her hard work!

As he watched Hermione Granger get sucked into the tome, he had the single thought, 'It actually worked.'

Now all he had to do was follow, oh, and follow he would. He would rescue the damsel in distress. Van Helsing had nothing on him.

Deftly retrieving the book from the stone floor, he flipped to the first chapter, stating clearly, "Dracula."

Hermione landed in the book, in the middle of a thunderstorm, outside of Castle Dracula. She remembered from the prologue that this volume was actually quite different from Bram Stoker's original version. Here, she was the main character, seeking refuge from the storm after her carriage broke down.

Only time would tell if Snape followed her or not, so she carefully began her trek to the looming castle up ahead. This white, flowing (or it would be if it wasn't soaked) outfit was ridiculous.

Fortunately, the path was shorter than it looked, probably done purposefully by the creators; she couldn't imagine anyone walking up that outrageous path even once in this silly dress without starting a raging howler war with the authors.

As she reached up to the heavy knocker, she noticed it was the shape of a very large bat. 'Well, maybe Dracula wasn't the best choice, let's hope Snape misses the irony.'

Knocking twice, she listened as the echo died, to be replaced by heavy footsteps. As they neared the door, she thought she heard muttering, something about 'frilly.'

Throwing open the door, Snape encountered one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. Sopping, and probably beyond angry, was Hermione, with her hair heavy from the rain, but still cascading down her back. She was wearing a long, white gossamer gown, something that would have been beautiful dry, but better wet, where her soft curves and rosy nipples peaked through.

"Good, you made it. I was worried you weren't coming there for a minute, Professor. Now, could you invite me in, maybe in front of a roaring fire where I can dry off?" Hermione was starting to freeze, and while it was dark outside, the light from the lamps inside were now shining on her and Snape's attention was placed firmly below her face. Knowing what was probably showing through, and figuring he liked the view too much to speak, she swept passed him uninvited into the warm dryness the castle offered.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, however, her clothing, skin, and hair dried instantly, effectively bringing Snape back into the present. If he thought she was beautiful before, the rosy glow of her now dry skin showed him how wrong he could be. The curls were even more tantalising now, and for some inconceivable reason, her neck was garnering much more attention from him than it normally would.

"Hermione," he allowed her given name to roll off his tongue, "I do believe someone had to come rescue the damsel in distress. And seeing as no one else knew where you were, who better than me?"

"Well, Severus," she emphasized his given name, letting him know she knew they were now on equal footing, "I do believe that you are the reason this damsel is in distress in the first place."

Raising that delectable left eyebrow, he really began looking around. Thinking he would come into this story as Van Helsing, he moved closer to the mirror near the fire. But as he neared, he knew something was wrong. No trick mirrors here, and no reflection either, he was Dracula. That would also explain the high-neck cloak he was wearing, as well as the lace collared shirt, something he had already deemed to be frilly.

Turning, he saw Hermione seating herself on the sofa, looking at him oddly.

"You did read the prologue, didn't you, Severus?" she asked, praying he knew what he had gotten himself into.

"Well, I read about the female entering, lost and wet, and finding her way to Castle Dracula." Here he paused, thinking, then, "I knew they had tweaked the story for a damsel in distress situation. I assumed any male entering would be Van Helsing, sweeping in to rescue the fair lady."

"So you read about half the prologue, figured you knew the rest, and put it on the shelf?" Hermione thanked Merlin that at least he knew this was a romance. That meant that he didn't, however, know what would happen any second now, let alone for the rest of the story.

Just then, the second knock of the night sounded against the door.

Snape turned back to her, gesturing for her to answer the question she knew he wanted to ask.

"Van Helsing, it's Van Helsing. He's come to rescue the girl from the evil clutches of you, Severus," she replied, knowing he wouldn't like it and might not understand anti-heros.

"So, he's the hero?" Severus really couldn't fathom why he was here if the romance was between her and Van Helsing. What fun is that?

"No, this story is different. This is based on the eroticisms of the vampire. Van Helsing saves the girl, only to torture and rape her, but Dracula saves her first, knowing what Van Helsing will do. He convinces her to live the immortal life of the vampire, shows her how erotic and sensual it can be, to suck the life blood from each other. They fall in love and live happily ever after, literally." Hermione wished right now, with all her might that the castle itself would crumble down around her.

Snape just stared at her, as if her dress were again see-through. The knock came again.

"Van Helsing also won't come through that door, until, um, we're, uh... kissing," she said the last part in the smallest voice possible. "And you can't answer the door, either."

Snape thought this was the most bizarre story he'd ever heard. It resembled first year Potions essays in absurdity.

"I'm the hero? You can't fall in love with me! I'm supposed to be the villain! Don't you see my black clothes? The villain always wears the black clothes! I can't be the bloody hero!" Snape was even surprised that this was the part he was worked up about, but this whole thing was messed up by itself.

"It's called an anti-hero, Severus, and they're very popular among the ladies these days. You should know the type – the bad-boy who turns out to be good deep down inside? You're practically the poster-boy!"

Snape eyed her, thinking this anti-hero would explain some of the looks he got from certain seventh years during class. Then the part about the kiss sank in, and he was definitely looking forward to that. He skulked over to her, boot heels clicking on the rough stone floor.

"So what happens after the kiss, Hermione," he purred, noticing the spark that returned to her honey-brown eyes.

"Then Van Helsing bursts in," Hermione began, reverting back to her know-it-all tone, "acting for all to see as if he is here to save the girl. He will insist on staying in the castle overnight, so that he and I will set out in the morning to fix my carriage. He won't touch me in the night, not in front of you, and seeks to get me out of here, so that he can do with me what he will."

During her speech, Severus had placed himself on the sofa next to her and turned so he could see her face in the firelight. He had one more question for her before he could devour those delicious looking lips. "Must we wait until morning to be reunited, or do I get to skulk around for you after Van Helsing goes to bed?"

Was it hot in there, or was it just her? The closer he moved, the harder her heart pumped. Before she could really start sweating, she replied, "Well, as a matter of fact, you get to use a secret passage in your bedroom bookcase to enter my chambers."

"Mmm, sounds devine..." No more was said as his lips descended upon hers.

At first it was tender, and sweet, and everything a first kiss should be. His lips were soft against hers, seeking entrance with a slight pressure applied, then a slow, tantalising swipe of his tongue across her full bottom lip. Moaning, she granted him permission, seeking her own entrance into his mouth. His hands reached her face, combing through her hair. Her arms reached around him, kneading his lower back. With a groan, he made his first contact with her tongue. As they teased, played, and enjoyed, they vaguely heard the crashing of the front door, but neither actually registered the presence of another.

"Scoundrel, get your filthy hands off her this instant!"

Severus ended the kiss leisurely, looking into her eyes as he pulled away. Looking upon the 'hero,' he could see how utterly absurd this story could get. Standing with both hands on his hips, smiling at Hermione, nearly all of his teeth showing, was Gilderoy bloody Lockhart.

Raising both eyebrows this time, Severus turned, hoping against all hope that this was not what she personally deemed as a 'hero.' "Hermione, dear, tell me how the book determines who Van Helsing will be, because this is certainly not my idea of a hero."

"Frankly, I'm not sure, Severus," Hermione said. "The prologue doesn't mention the selection, or anything about him really."

"Are you injured, m'lady? Did he hurt you in any way?" Van Helsing/Lockhart said, while briskly striding to her side.

"I'm fine. What do you want?" Hermione was exasperated, she wanted to get back to the good stuff between her and Severus ('Severus?').

"I only have your safety in mind. I saw your carriage further up the lane and thought you might have come here, seeking refuge from the storm. This is no place for a lady such as yourself." Van Helsing/Lockhart was really laying it on thick, and both Hermione and Severus had had enough.

"Enough! You require lodging for the night, correct?" Snape yelled, hoping to get through this, and back to better things, as quickly as possible.

"Of course, sir, I demand it, as well as separate quarters between the lady and yourself; I want no part in the debauching of such a fair maiden."

"Uh huh, sure, no debauching. Fine, should I assume they're upstairs?" Severus looked to Hermione at this last part, figuring she would know that detail. At her nod to the affirmative, he lifted himself from the sofa with a sigh, helping her up as well. Then he led the way, back into the entrance hall, where he knew the stairs to be.