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hp_rarefestTitle: Out of the Shadows
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nightfalltwen
Prompt: 162: Vampires have a visceral and negative reaction to the scent of werewolf, and vice versa. What is one to do when the odour comes attached to such a lovely package?
Pairing(s): Lavender/Sanguini
Word Count: 8170
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): none
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Big thank you to E and L for giving me encouraging pushes and making sure things were set right. I may have deviated from the negative reaction a little, but I hope it works out.
Summary: When he saved her, he didn't know that she would reappear in his life in such a loud and insistent way. Vampires are supposed to dislike werewolves with every fibre of their being. Yet... he doesn't dislike her. Though that's not to say he exactly likes her either.
****
2nd May, 1998
No one notices the figure moving amongst the sheet-covered forms with silent precision. They are too wrapped up in their own mourning to pay him any mind and he doesn't suppose that they would care much that he is here. There is little damage he can do to those who no longer draw breath. And that's what all of this is. A room of empty shells and wasted life.
Sanguini feels something akin to pity for the mortality of man. He kneels down and pulls back a sheet. The boy with empty brown eyes and sandy hair stares up at a ceiling that does not move with stars.
Such a waste.
A sound catches his attention and Sanguini does not hold his breath because there is no breath to hold. The sound is different from the tears that fall in the other room or the erratic thumping of hundreds of hearts trying to find a steady grip on the reality of what had transpired over the night. It is a living sound surrounded by so much silence.
Canting his head, the vampire listens.
"You will have to leave soon, Luca. The day is starting to br--"
Horace does not get to finish his sentence. Sanguini keeps a hand pressed to the wizard's mouth and listens again. It's shallow and unsteady and almost gone, but he can hear it.
"One of them is still alive," he says, his voice marked with a tone that does not suggest that Slughorn argue with him. Sanguini points to a sheet near the door. "That one."
Horace is there first because Sanguini lets him be first. He doesn't trust himself not to be overcome by the cloying scent of living blood, no matter how slowly it thrums through the injured student's veins. Slughorn draws back the sheet to reveal a mass of dirty blond curls, some of which is caked with dried blood and a sad sort of noise catches in the wizard's throat. Shaking his head, he looks over at Sanguini with shining eyes.
"She is not dead," Sanguini insists. "I can smell the life. And I can hear her heart."
"Greyback was too much for her, my boy," says Horace with a catch in his throat. He draws the sheet down further. "See?"
Any other time it would have amused Sanguini to be called boy by someone who is three centuries his junior, but he is too distracted by the injury to the girl's shoulder and neck. It reeks of wolf filth and makes Sanguini recoil in disgust. He is faced with a dilemma. Saving her will leave her with this mark and a future tied to the moon. Letting her succumb and fade away would break the oath he gave to Minerva in exchange for his own survival.
I will speak for you. If you do not give up on the living ones.
Horace is easily moved aside, falling back on his round backside as Sanguini crouches closer. He looks first to his wrist, the wiry blue veins beneath his pale skin, and then to the wizard sitting beside him before his gaze shifts to the girl on the cold stone floor. From her neck there is a small trickle of blood and despite the wretched canine smell of it, his eyes go dark and his teeth sharpen.
The blood that drips from the open vein in his wrist, passes over her pale lips until he can hear her heart thump louder. Everything beyond that happens in a rush. Horace calls for assistance. The matron of the school's hospital wing swoops in and bundles the student off. An Indian girl about the same age helps her, while trying to wipe away tears of both pain and joy. Sanguini doesn't feel the hand shaking his. He doesn't see the smile on Horace's face or hear the whispers of gratitude from those around him.
He is lost in his own thoughts of the implications of his decision and leaves the school before the sky grows too light.
****
March, 2001
"You won't catch me stepping over that threshold, no matter how good the drinks are. 'M a Leaky Cauldron man through and through. 'Sides. You can't trust those sorts. Not as far as you can throw them."
Lavender hunched her shoulders and ran her fingertip over the employment section of the Daily Prophet, crossing off all the ads she knew wouldn't give her the time of day. Partly because she'd already worked for that particular employer and the ad was there to find her replacement, but mostly because she didn't have the skills to even get past the interview. Behind her the pair of old wizards clinked their tankards and congratulated themselves on remaining patrons of the Leaky.
Glancing over at the 'now hiring' ad that sat opposite the main employment section, Lavender bit her lip. It was a full page spread for a new establishment; the one being sneered at by the men behind her. She didn't really have the skills necessary to tend bar, she thought, or wait tables. Her experience with drinks was more the imbibing of them than the pouring of them. But since the new place, Red, was offering employment and with rent looming, beggars certainly couldn't be choosers. She tugged the page out of the paper and left the rest on the table.
Outside the late March clouds had rolled in over the city of London, giving the Alley a dusky pallor and a certain gloom that one couldn't find in most other cities. Lavender tugged up the hood to her jacket and skirted around a pair of older witches who were haggling over beetle eyes at an outside stand.
Red was located at the end of the alley, just beyond Ollivanders, which had still not been rebuilt since the war. The old wizard sold his wands in Hogsmeade these days, preferring to be as close to the school as possible. Diagon was so different from Lavender's childhood memories of it. Parts had yet to be rebuilt and that which had been rebuilt was somewhat out of place with the rest of the aged buildings.
And then there was Red.
The newest addition to Diagon had been around for about a month. Unlike the Tudor-esque style of the rest of the Alley, buildings that seemed a little top-heavy for their own good, the new bar was almost a straight-edged box. There were no windows. There could have been windows, but the spaces were bricked up so that only outlines of windows remained. And aside from the lettering on the sign, the entire façade was black.
It reminded her of the Muggle teenagers who had lived down the street from her house wearing all black in the summer and far too much eyeliner.
The whole goth thing was just too much.
Lavender stepped up to the door and stuffed the newspaper page into the front pocket of her jacket. Squaring her shoulders and practicing all of her best interview lines, she took a breath and knocked. The wait for a response was uncomfortably long and Lavender was glad that the only other person in this end of the alley was an old man digging through a barrel of used shoes in front of the junk shop. At least no one else was around to watch her wait.
Finally the door cracked open.
Lavender's eyes widened in surprise.
To call the man who answered her knock handsome was a disservice to the word. He was tall, a good head taller than her, and that made it very easy for him to look down his perfectly straight nose at her. His dark hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck, only emphasizing the sharpness of his face. If it were any other person, Lavender would have melted under his cool, direct stare. He was beautiful.
But he was also a vampire and immediately her hackles rose.
A frown appeared on his face and he looked her up and down, wrinkling his nose as if he'd just smelt something foul. Lavender felt anger start to simmer in her belly. How dare he make that face at her! Pinching her lips, she thrust out the newspaper ad. Without sticking his hand out into the daylight, he somehow managed to take it from her, not even dropping his eyes to read what she had just passed to him.
And before she could open her mouth to speak, the vampire stepped back into the shadows even more, draping himself in the dark of the room.
"No," he said sharply. Then he closed the door in her face.
****
Lavender picked at her food, trying to be enthusiastic about the vegetable curry in front of her and not think about the steakhouse a few blocks away that served perfect, rare steaks. She gave the food a stir. Spending an evening with her best friend's vegetarian sister hadn't been a part of her evening plans. Those had included scowling into a bowl of minty-chocolate ice cream and muttering under her breath about the unfairness of vampires. But Parvati had asked nicely and without the usual huffy demands, so rather than push it and end up getting yet another lecture about being too anti-social, Lavender had agreed.
Glancing over at the twins, she half-listened to Parvati go on about her latest boyfriend. This one was German, unlike the last one who had been Portuguese. He'd transferred to the international magical cooperation team a few weeks ago and apparently had the "loveliest hands of anyone she had ever met before."
"Is the curry too spicy?" Padma asked suddenly, interrupting Parvati's description of her German's beautiful smile, and poured herself another cup of tea.
Lavender flushed and looked down at her plate. "No!" she smiled and raised a fork to her mouth. It wasn't lamb vindaloo, but it wasn't terrible. There were just only so many chickpeas one could eat. The heat of the dish, however, tingled against her tongue and she pushed the mouthful into her cheek. "It's lovely. I just had a big lunch, so I'm not really that hungry."
To her left, Parvati let out a quiet, yet very disapproving, sniff and Lavender shifted uncomfortably under Padma's gaze. In her mouth, the lump of curry turned to ash, taking more than a few attempts to swallow. Once it was down, the twins seemed satisfied, but instead of returning to their previous conversation about this latest love of Parvati's life (of which there had been a few), Padma pointed her wand at the kitchen. A long plate floated out and set itself in the middle of the table. The gulab jamun were artfully arranged in a circle, swimming in syrup and sprinkled with pistachios.
"How are things at the magazine?" Padma asked, whisking away Lavender's uneaten curry. She dished out a bowl of the sweet dessert. "With all the new shops at Diagon, you must be writing plenty of arti-OW!"
A thunderous look spread across Parvati's face as Padma leaned down to rub at her leg, scolding her sister in angry Hindi. The pair of them started to argue and Lavender decided to put all her focus into the sweet dessert in front of her, finishing quickly while the sisters spat words back and forth.
"I'm sorry, Lavender," Padma said after a moment, her cheeks flushed. "I didn't realise you'd left the magazine."
Lavender shrugged. "Left. Sacked. Not really much of a difference these days." She reached for the purse that had been sitting beside her chair before giving a somewhat pointed look at Parvati's sister. "Things will maybe improve once the Ministry overturns Umbridge's werewolf discrimination laws. Until then, even partial werewolves get the shaft."
Padma sucked in a breath, her mouth falling open in surprise. Parvati started to protest and while it was warranted, Lavender didn't really want to get into it. So she forced a smile onto her face and shouldered her purse. The bag thumped against her hip, her array of keychains jangling on the strap.
"It's fine," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but not overtly cheerful. "I'm starting at that new place in Diagon. The new bar. Red."
Somehow the lie came so easily and before she was bombarded by a thousand questions, Lavender thanked Padma for the food and told Parvati she would be home later that night. The twins each wore the same stunned expression as Lavender left the flat. She was almost grateful for it. She'd stunned them into silence and it had allowed for a hasty getaway. Once outside, she covered her face with her hands and muttered a few choice curses under her breath.
"God, you bloody idiot," she grumbled, shoving her hand into her bag and pulling out her wand.
The next moment she was standing in the middle of Diagon Alley. It was late enough that stalls were rolling up their wares for the night, covering things with canvas and locking them away with spells. Lavender glanced first to the Leaky Cauldron where she knew she could get a stiff drink, but then her attention was drawn to the other end, down past Ollivanders.
The sign over the door was lit with what seemed to be candlelight and as Lavender approached, she could see a number of younger witches and wizards milling about outside. Despite the sign clearly indicating that Red was open for the evening, no one seemed to want to be the first person to enter. Lavender huffed. How on earth did that Vampire think he was ever going to get any business if everyone was too scared to go inside?
Marching through the group, she pushed on the door and crossed into the building.
The decor was truly predictable, she thought. Very... vampire-y. Plush velvet chaises sprawled across the room and the polished bar was lined with glasses. Behind the bar, an imposing and very non vampire man was straightening the bottles. Lavender shook her head. He looked like some kind of undertaker, not a bartender. How depressing.
"Welcome to Red, my dear..." a smooth, voice spoke from behind her. "Do you have a preference for dr--" He stopped speaking and scowled when she turned to face him.
Lavender raised her eyebrows. "Well that sort of expression just screams 'spend your money here, Lavender.'" She gestured to the empty room. "Did you scowl away the rest of your customers too, or am I a special case?"
"I thought I was clear when you were here earlier," he said, tucking a hand into the pocket of his long robe.
"No. You actually weren't. I didn't exactly get a chance to speak and you gave me one word as a response. In any case, it's clear you need someone to draw people in because all of this..." She waved her hand at his outfit and then at the bar as a whole. "Really isn't working, is it?"
He opened his mouth as if to speak but Lavender held up her hand. "Now I know you're thinking, 'oh she couldn't possibly have the experience to do well here', but how about I make you an offer?" She tilted her head and waited for him to make any sort of response. A small nod of his head was the only indication that he wanted her to continue. Lavender took a breath. "I get ten people to come in and stay longer than one drink... and you agree to let me work here."
The vampire- and Lavender still wasn't quite sure how she knew in her gut that he actually was a vampire- crossed his arms over his chest. The long sleeves of his robe billowed around him and Lavender almost giggled. He really was going for the creature of the night bit. It was truly amusing.
"What makes you think I need to have you work here?" he asked, still looking down his perfectly straight nose at her.
"What makes you think you don't?" Lavender gave him a challenging look and then waved her hand at the empty room again. "There's no one here. If your goal was to make money, then I think you're going about it the wrong way. I mean, playing up the whole bloodsucker theme is a bit over the top and Lurch over there," she indicated to the bartender, "isn't helping things either."
"I haven't interviewed many potential employees before..."
"Obviously..." Lavender flipped her hair over her shoulder.
The vampire's nostrils flared and he took a step back, again looking like he'd just come across something foul. "But..." he continued. "I imagine that insulting one's potential employer doesn't happen."
"You insulted me first," she declared. He looked surprised at that. Score one for her, she thought smugly.
"I did not--"
"You slammed a door in my face and you keep looking like I've marched in here after stepping in dragon dung. I don't know if adorable blondes have upset you in the past, Mister Vampire, but I'm not them and you ought to realise that I'm the best thing that will ever happen to this place."
He observed her for a moment. Only it was a bit longer than just a moment. Long enough to make her almost doubt her declaration. It was a very Snape sort of thing, she thought, remembering how the Potions professor could just stand there and stare at her until she felt like maybe it really was three spoonfuls of lacewings she was supposed to add to her potion instead of two. Lavender set her shoulders and stared back. She wasn't going to let the vampire win.
Finally he waved his hand. "You have one night. Ten customers. Three drinks each."
Then he sunk into the shadows and left her on her own.
****
Sanguini closed the door to his office on the second floor of the building. He tossed his long, black robe onto a side desk where it lay in a heap along with his Vampire Sanguini persona. Tugging open the door to a small fridge, he took out a blood pack and started to unwind the tubing from around the middle.
He was equally impressed and irritated by the girl in the room below. Impressed by her nerve and irritated that she would choose this as her ideal place of employment. Somehow he'd thought that any sort of influence the werewolf's bite might have had on her would have been negated by the blood he'd given to bring her back from death. As it seemed, not only was the wolf influencing her, but it was amplifying her Gryffindor nerve.
He wasn't sure what was worse.
Draping himself across one of the office chairs and lazily sucking on the long tube from the end of the bag, he thought about that fateful night where his own blood had passed across her lips. In the long years that Luca DeGradi had spent on this earth, that moment at Hogwarts had been the first time he'd used his own blood to extend the life of another. His blood had created her new life, much in the way making a new vampire would do. Though he felt no such fatherly instinct toward her, as a maker would feel towards his or her child, but there was still some kind of connection.
It was a shame she still carried the distastefully cloying scent of wolf about her. He couldn't help but be put off by it.
Reaching forward, Luca flipped a ledger open, letting his mind and fingers wander over the numbers written on the pages. In the month that Red had been open, there had been the odd customer or two. They were usually the young witches or wizards looking for a thrill and only staying a moment before fleeing back to the pub at the other end of Diagon. The pub that was safe. The pub that wasn't owned or run by a vampire. Soon he would need to find something else to pass the time. Attempting to be a businessman just didn't seem to work so well. Perhaps it was time he returned to the continent and visited the mountains of Romania.
Though seeking out his own kind had never been a joy in the past. It was why he'd tolerated being in England for the last decade.
Drawing in a breath for no purpose but to let it out in a sigh that puffed out his cheeks, Luca tossed the empty blood bag into a bin. He glanced over at the discarded cloak and pursed his lips. He did not want to give up so easily on his business, but there was only so far his personal finances could stretch before he was left back at his meagre beginnings. Dipping further into money he'd saved over the years was not realistic.
With a grumble of frustration, he got to his feet, grabbing the robe as he left the office.
Only to be met with the sounds of conversation in the room below.
Peering over the railing that surrounded the second floor, Luca was astonished to see a number of people sitting at the various tables below. Slowly he pushed his arms into the sleeves of his robe and watched as Lavender Brown wove her way around the room, setting drinks in front of patrons. A thousand different questions filled his head and almost as if she could hear his shock, she looked up at him with a satisfied expression.
She met him at the bottom of the stairs and, to his credit, he managed no reaction to the wolfish scent that floated about her hair and shoulders.
"Twelve customers. Some with two drinks. Some with three." She looked at the little pad of paper. "You know... Lurch over there makes a surprisingly good Pink Squirrel."
"A what?"
"It's a drink."
"I gathered." He tried to take control of the conversation. "The agreement was ten customers. Three drinks each."
"Which is thirty drinks." Lavender held out the pad of paper. "I have thirty-one."
"Dare I ask how you managed to get them to come inside?"
"Well they were all waiting outside, but you seem to have everyone thinking that you're going to eat them the moment they come inside. This whole 'ooo I'm a dark and brooding vampire and here's my dark and brooding vampire bar' thing really isn't working. I just told them to come in and try it out. I might have let them inspect my neck for bites."
He snorted derisively.
"Yeah, I know. Bad move. Table five all looked down my shirt at the same time." She glanced over at a group of young men, smirking in the corner and then waved her fingers coquettishly. "S'alright though. I told Lurch to put bogies in their lagers."
"Alright then," he said, brushing some nonexistent dust from his robe.
"Hmmm?"
"You may work here." He held out his hand to her. "Luca DeGradi. Also known as the Vampire Sanguini."
She shook his hand. The touch was warm and, in a strange way, felt very familiar to him. She gave a little nod. "Lavender Brown. And we're going to work on this whole vampire thing of yours."
****
Late April, 2001
"Would you stop fussing with my hair, Ms Brown," Luca swatted her hand away.
"I didn't spend all these weeks convincing you to style it shorter to have you ruin it by slicking it back with... oh my god, did you use Brylcreem on this?" She clucked her tongue. "Were you planning on joining a barbershop quartet after the bar closed?"
She shook her head. Getting Luca to shift away from his "The Vampire Sanguini" persona had been like asking Ron Weasley to wear the scarf she'd knit him in sixth year. Worse than pulling teeth.
*
"Stop trying for the creepy vampire theme and go for the sexy vampire," she says. "Haven't you heard? Vampires are supposed to be sexy. All the best books say so."
"That trash you've been reading is not at all accurate," Luca replies with a scowl, cursing his reluctance to send her packing. "We told that woman she was getting it wrong. Dimitri should have never agreed to that interview. American witches have far too active imaginations."
"Yes well... Lestat is sexy and that's what people want these days. Trust me."
*
Lavender frowned, pulling her thoughts back to the present and gave the longer pieces of his dark hair a twist until they looked rakishly disheveled without appearing like he'd purposefully tried to make it look rakishly disheveled. She glanced up at the mirror, still somewhat startled by seeing his reflection. He'd had to show her early on that there were a lot of things about vampires that everyone got wrong. The reflections. Garlic. Crucifixes. None of it was really part of real vampire mythos. Just stories that both muggles and wizards made up.
The only thing he still seemed concerned about was being staked, which was still true, or set on fire.
Still. It was funny to see some of the younger wizards trying to keep themselves safe with heavy crosses around their necks.
Lavender gave one last bit of hair a flip and a tousle before she decided it was suitable for the evening. She stepped back, pointing toward his office. "There's a garment bag on your desk. Go change."
"This had best not be another of your cockamamie schemes to get me into leather trousers. I told you I wasn't interested."
Lavender clapped her hand over her mouth and tried to hold back the laughter. Her shoulders shook under the pressure of it all. Finally she managed to look up at him and he was staring at her with a baffled expression.
"What?" he demanded tersely.
"I'm sorry," she said between giggles. "But did you just use the word cockamamie in a sentence? Where did you even pick that up?"
Luca muttered a few insults under his breath in Italian before rolling his eyes. "I don't live under a rock, Ms Brown, despite what you may think. I do also read the occasional novel."
"Just not the vampire ones," she chuckled. "Cockamamie...good grief" She flicked her fingers towards his office. "Just go. Change. I promise there's not a leather item to be found."
Lavender watched him leave then scooted around the bar to the sink where she washed the hair product from her fingers. Wiping her wet hands on a towel that was tucked into the back of her jeans, she quickly surveyed the bar. In the month that she'd been working at Red she'd managed to get Sanguini to relinquish control of the decor and his appearance. It took a good week of pleading for the latter.
She could understand. Cutting his hair was a big step and she knew that it wouldn't grow back ever. But it had been a good decision. As had giving the room a coat of paint that wasn't so... black. She'd been subtle. This was no tea house and tablecloths or doilies weren't needed. But if there weren't any windows, then there had to be something that would make the place feel less like a dungeon lair and more like a place one would want to stay and have a few drinks.
It had kept her busy. The moon came and went and although she had been just as grumpy as she usually was during those few days of the month, Luca had seemed to handle it better than most wizards. He anticipated her mood before she'd even lashed out and diffused it so much more expertly than her previous employers.
She did appreciate that. More than she'd been able to say.
The bartender, whom Lavender had stopped calling Lurch when she'd finally learnt his name was Bernard, arrived with a pop. He always chose to apparate into the building instead of using the Floo, saying it was far too dirty a means of travel. Lavender smiled in greeting, never failing to be pleasantly tickled when the looming man took her hand and kissed her knuckles politely. Beneath his imposing stature, he really was one of the sweetest men she'd ever come across.
"Mademoiselle Brown," he said in perfect English with his lovely French accent. "Did you manage to get him to change his hair?"
"Barely. But yes." Lavender smiled. "You'd think someone who is as put together as I am would be taken seriously when it comes to how appealing a man should look... but he's very stubborn."
Bernard laughed and said something in rapid French that she didn't understand.
"Next time you call me a mule, Bernard, I might rethink keeping you employed," Luca's voice came from the stairs.
Bernard shrugged and grabbed the towel tucked into Lavender's jeans. "Perhaps. But what does an Italian know of Bordeaux wines? Or Cabernet? You would be lost without me." He picked up a tray of glasses and disappeared into the back to make sure they were properly cleaned before service.
Luca turned to face her then, holding his arms out for inspection. Lavender sucked in a quick breath. He'd taken the time to change his hair again. This time, at least, he'd not slicked it back. It wasn't the tousled look she'd given him, but it still worked. And the suit. She certainly hadn't expected the suit to look as good as it did. All his measurements had entirely guesswork on her part, but everything seemed to fit just as well as she'd imagined it would. And did he ever wear it well. Lavender knew he was attractive, but put the man in a well cut suit and she found herself a little taken aback by her own reaction. Her palms had gone all clammy and her mouth dry.
"Do I pass muster?" he asked, clearly waiting for a response.
She nodded.
Then disapparated.
****
"You overwhelmed her," Bernard said as he returned to the bar, setting the spotless glasses on the counter. Behind him floated in a wooden crate of wine bottles that found their way to the space under the sink.
Luca was still stunned by Lavender's sudden departure that he found himself caught off guard by Bernard's statement. Shooting the Frenchman a look, he shrugged off the jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs to his shirt, folding them up. She'd left so fast that he'd not had a chance to thank her for the clothing. The last time he'd sent someone to get new clothing, he'd ended up with trousers that were too short and a shirt that was too tight across the shoulders. Getting them altered had been such a trial, he'd had to sit and fiddle with the needle and thread himself.
"I did nothing of the sort," he said finally.
"Of course you did," the bartender replied, checking the levels on the spirits. "When you're all cloak and intrigue, it's easy to remember that the Vampire Sanguini is a role. When you're like this," he paused and waved his hand at Luca, "it's a little more difficult to not be drawn in. Even I find it a little overwhelming." He set down a whisky and picked up a vodka, making a note on a pad of paper. Glancing over his shoulder. "But my husband doesn't need to know that." He shrugged. "It is different for women, I suppose."
Rubbing a spot on his forehead that seemed to throb in irritation, Luca pressed his lips together. "That's ridiculous. The wolf in her... would prevent any sort of attraction."
"Would it?" Bernard tapped the tip of his pencil to his tongue. "I don't see you recoiling from her these days. And I've been relieved that our evening discussions of art and history are back to just that... discussions of art and history and not her dreadful wolf scent being wafted around the bar."
"Just because I don't comment on it, doesn't mean I don't notice it." Luca reached over and grabbed the jacket. Not wanting to continue the conversation further, he launched himself upward and landed on the other side of the railing on the second floor. In a moment the door to his office was closed behind him.
It was ludicrous. He'd put on a suit that she'd arranged for him and he'd wanted to check and make sure she was satisfied with it. He'd not been trying to be seductive at all and if she'd had some kind of adverse reaction to him because he was a vampire, then it was best that she did leave and get control of herself before embarrassing herself.
Dropping down onto one of the chairs, Luca tried to think of the last time he noticed the wolf in her. There was the obvious. When the full moon came about, her tone became sharp and angry, her temper much more easily triggered. But after that... there'd not been any other instant he could pinpoint. He'd grown used her and he was inclined to admit to himself, he enjoyed her company and trading barbs back and forth.
But that certainly didn't mean he'd tried to overwhelm her senses.
Muttering a few curses against Bernard, the Frenchman's mother and the rest of his ancestors, Luca rolled down his sleeves and put his suit jacket back on.
The new Vampire Sanguini was to make his appearance.
****
The bar was slammed. It was, by far, the busiest evening Red had ever seen. When Lavender had returned even Luca had to admit that he was a little in the weeds when it came to the number of tables, and that was coming from a vampire. There wasn't an empty seat in the room. He didn't understand where all the people had come from or why they'd suddenly all decided to visit the bar that night, but they had.
Not that he was ungrateful by the increase of paying customers or anything.
Grudgingly, Luca withdrew all the curses he'd laid upon Bernard and his family. The bartender had handled the onslaught of orders with aplomb and at one point when the crowd became a little more than rowdy, the Frenchman had drawn himself up to his full height and seemingly scattered the patrons with a look. It had truly been impressive.
Once the last customer had left and it was well into the small hours, Luca settled himself onto one of the bar stools.
He waved his hand at the man behind the bar. "Go home. Your cleaning spells will tidy everything."
With a grateful look, Bernard vanished.
"Well that was a success," Lavender said, flicking her wand at a few cloths and setting them to wipe tables around the room. She popped behind the bar and crouched down, digging her purse out from behind the trash bin where she always hid it. "Think we might hire some more staff?"
"We might have to," he admitted, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Were there any special advertisements in the paper that I wasn't aware of?"
Lavender shook her head, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. His nostrils flared and he did catch a whiff of the wolfish scent of her, but it had become so familiar around the bar that he really had to concentrate to discern it from the other scents that filled his nose. He nodded his head to the seat beside him and once she'd sat down, he poured her a glass of moscato. The bottle was near empty and he didn't feel like attempting to save it.
She smiled as she took a sip. "The only thing I've been doing is chatting up all the young witches and wizards around the alley and when I have to go to the Ministry or Hogsmeade. You know... check out this trendy place... run by a devilishly handsome vampire.. you'll not be disappointed. Et cetera and so on."
He watched her for a moment before coming out from behind the bar and taking a seat once again. "You're quite invested in the success of this place."
One of her shoulders rose and fell. She tipped the glass back, finishing the wine in a few swallows. "All in the interest of keeping myself employed, I suppose." She leaned over and gave him a nudge. "You're not so bad either. For a vampire."
"That's good to hear," he said with a wry smile. "Your abrupt departure earlier was cause for a bit of concern."
"Oh that." She waved her hand dismissively. "Just getting myself set for the night."
She didn't offer any other explanation and he decided right then and there that he wasn't going to pry any further. He could have compelled a better answer out of her, but Luca found he was enjoying not knowing all of her thoughts. Not that she kept most of them away from him. Lavender Brown had a bad habit of speaking exactly what was on her mind when she wanted to.
"Thank you," he said after a long moment of silence between them. He leaned over without a second thought and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
That in itself was a mistake, he soon realized. Once he'd touched his mouth to her skin, he could feel every part of her intensely. He heard her intake of breath and through his lips he could feel her pulse start to speed up. It had been a very long time since his last contact with a living person in such a way that he found himself getting lost in the sensations that were waking each and every one of his senses.
Touching a finger to her chin, Luca turned her face towards his and fit his mouth against hers.
Suddenly, everything went in and out of focus. He wasn't sure if he was still Luca or if he was once again Sanguini. All he knew was that her soft sigh of pleasure filled his mouth with a breath that he hadn't known he wanted to taste until it was happening. He could smell the heat on her skin and hear the ache in her throat. His teeth grew sharp with a need that he'd not felt in such a long time.
It was familiar. His own blood still thrummed through her veins in a way that magic couldn't actually describe. It thumped one word to him. Mine.
Drawing away from her lips, he kissed her jaw and then pressed his mouth to her neck. The steady pulse hammered against his lips. He smiled.
"I always worried that saving you had been a mistake..." he whispered, his teeth gently scraping against her skin, almost cutting it. "I'm glad I was wrong."
She went still. "I'm sorry... what?"
He lifted his head and for the first time he saw a fear in her eyes. The kind of fear and confusion that happens when someone hears the very last thing they ever want to hear. She dropped her arms from around his shoulder and shifted back on her seat, looking at him expectantly.
"Explain."
He could lie. He could have easily just distracted her with another heady kiss and cleared her mind of any thoughts of what he'd just said. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do either. Letting go of her, he also sat back and gently ran the tip of his tongue over his aching teeth.
"I was there. At Hogwarts." He looked at his hand, turning it over and running a thumb over the vein in his wrist. "You were the only one in that room that had a chance of surviving. Just barely. So I... my blood brought you back."
He'd expected her rage at this revelation. He'd expected her to be white hot with it. And at first she was. Her skin radiated the anger before going as cold as ice. That was worse. All of the passion seemed to drain from her eyes, replaced by something with absolutely no spirit. In that moment he wanted her to yell. He wanted her to do something that showed she was still Lavender. That she was still the spirited girl he had come to know.
"I saved you," he said gently, searching for words. "Lavender, I --"
"No!" she snapped, sliding off the chair. "You trapped me." Lavender waved her hand at her neck and the blurry glamour she kept up, something he'd never been able to see through, dissolved before him. He'd thought that his blood had healed her completely but the angry marks of Greyback's teeth still marred her shoulder and neck. Luca couldn't help but recoil.
A scowl crossed her face at his reaction. "You trapped me with this repulsive scar... and I'll never be rid of it. How dare you make that decision for me."
And for the second time that night, Lavender vanished without another word.
****
Parvati came down the hallway, undoing the long plait she always kept her hair in when she slept. The t-shirt that doubled as a nightgown sported the name Puddlemere United across the chest. She scuffed her bunny slippered feet across the hardwood, into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of juice. It was her "I didn't have a boy sleep overnight" outfit. Comfortable and a bit frumpy and not something she would wear if she were trying to impress a bloke. When she came back into the sitting room, Lavender spoke up from her spot on the sofa.
"Am I completely mad?"
Without missing a beat or spilling a drop of juice, Parvati dropped onto the sofa beside her. She was rarely ruffled by morning surprises. "You'll have to be a bit more specific, darling. In the general sense... no. On some things, maybe?" She drank from her glass.
Lavender groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Luca kissed me."
"Ooooooo, the vampire?" Parvati immediately set down her glass and turned to sit cross-legged beside Lavender. "Tell me everything. I mean, you're not a creature of the night right now, so I have to assume he didn't bite you as well. Was it everything the novels say kissing a vampire is like? Were you seduced? Was it amazing? Tell me!"
"Parvati, stop!" Lavender wanted to shake her friend. "It's not the kiss... well, it is. But it's not just that." She frowned at her hands. "He brought me back after Greyback bit me."
"Oh that..." Parvati seemed unimpressed and reached for her glass. "He's the one that goes by Sanguini, right? Yes, he's the one who found you alive after the battle when we all thought you were dead." She settled back against the arm of the sofa, cradling her juice against her chest. "I did tell you. When you were in hospital. I thought that's why you liked your job so much."
Lavender had no words. She was at an utter loss for them and it was an odd sensation because normally she always had something to say. Obviously she didn't remember anything during those first few weeks of recovery. It had been a blur of pokes and prods and 'sorry for your situation' and 'there's nothing we can do' all wrapped up in a dozen Get Well Soon! balloons.
"Lavender..." Parvati reached forward and folded her fingers over Lavender's. "I say this with complete and utter love. But you need to stop dwelling on what happened." She let go of the fingers and placed her hand to Lavender's mouth to keep her from speaking. "I mean it. We've been dealing with mood swings and PMS since we were twelve. You're not any different than you were. You don't become a beast during the full moon and grow all that extra hair..."
"I get it," Lavender said with a sigh, pushing Parvati's hand away. "Alright? I get it."
Parvati finished her juice and got up from the sofa. "I'm just saying... we didn't lose you. I didn't lose you. So I'm kind of ... really grateful for Sanguini. For that. And for helping you to be happier in the last month than I've seen you in the last couple of years."
With that last remark, Parvati took her glass back to the kitchen and then went off to have a shower. Lavender looked out the window at the rising sun. There was no point in going back to Red now that it was daylight. She'd have to wait until the evening. Not that she had any idea what she would say to Luca when she saw him. Parvati had caused so many conflicting thoughts to run through her head.
Letting out a deep breath, Lavender decided to go to bed. Maybe things would be clearer after a few hours of rest.
****
"I'm still not all that happy," Lavender said when Luca finally appeared in the bar just after sunset. She'd been waiting since mid-afternoon, unable to stand just sitting in the flat until it was time for her shift. "Greyback's bite didn't turn me, but it didn't leave me without a mark. I've got these ugly scars and I can't stand cooked meat and every full moon it's like my skin is flying apart and everything hurts and I snarl at everyone. But I don't change."
The only indication that he was paying attention was the slow movement of his eyes as she paced about while talking. Other than that he was still as glass.
"And all of that makes me a registered part werewolf. Easily sacked and unable to hold down a steady job."
"Except this one." His arms dropped from their folded position as he spoke.
"Except this job. And I love this job and I love Bernard and love the customers. I even love you despite my better judgement." She drew in a breath and fiddled with a stack of napkins that were sitting on the bar.
"But..." He took a few steps closer, leaning on the bar beside her.
"But you should have told me at the start," she said finally.
He shook his head. "I doubt you would have bullied your way in here and insisted on me giving you a job if I had."
"Probably not."
"Red would have never started to become a success."
She smiled. "I did do that, didn't I?"
Luca reached over and covered her hand with his. His fingers were cold against her skin and she wondered briefly what his life had been before he'd become a vampire. Though she suspected that was another story for another day. Glancing over, she reached up and fiddled with his hair. He still hadn't gotten the hang of styling this shorter style.
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he rolled his eyes at her. "I meant what I said. I was wrong to be worried about saving you. Back when you were lying there on that floor at the castle, all I could think of was that wretched stench of wolf that was coming from your wound. Tying you to that fate was not a decision I enjoyed making. But saving you was the right thing to do. Too many people died. You didn't need to be one of them."
"I was reminded this morning that there are some people who are grateful for that," she said, letting her hand drop from his hair and rest on his shoulder.
"Are you going to leave?" he asked.
"I thought about it," she admitted. "But I decided that I wasn't going to let all my hard work go to waste."
He turned to face her, gesturing slowly between the pair of them, feeling awkwardly teenaged despite his many long years. "And this?"
Lavender raised her chin, smirking a little. "Well first you're going to have to explain this whole 'stench of wolf thing' to me and then I'll decide whether or not you're worth my time. Because wrinkling your nose at how I smell is a definite turn off."
Luca smiled widely and reached over, fitting his hand to the small of her back and tugging her a bit closer. "Would it help to say that I've gotten used to it?"
"Maybe." She stood on her tiptoes and touched her nose to his. "But it was a definite insult. You'll have to make it up to me."
"I think I may have an idea for that."
As it turned out, Luca DeGradi, the Vampire Sanguini, made a very compelling case in his favour.
Author/Artist:
nightfalltwen Prompt: 162: Vampires have a visceral and negative reaction to the scent of werewolf, and vice versa. What is one to do when the odour comes attached to such a lovely package?
Pairing(s): Lavender/Sanguini
Word Count: 8170
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): none
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Big thank you to E and L for giving me encouraging pushes and making sure things were set right. I may have deviated from the negative reaction a little, but I hope it works out.
Summary: When he saved her, he didn't know that she would reappear in his life in such a loud and insistent way. Vampires are supposed to dislike werewolves with every fibre of their being. Yet... he doesn't dislike her. Though that's not to say he exactly likes her either.
2nd May, 1998
No one notices the figure moving amongst the sheet-covered forms with silent precision. They are too wrapped up in their own mourning to pay him any mind and he doesn't suppose that they would care much that he is here. There is little damage he can do to those who no longer draw breath. And that's what all of this is. A room of empty shells and wasted life.
Sanguini feels something akin to pity for the mortality of man. He kneels down and pulls back a sheet. The boy with empty brown eyes and sandy hair stares up at a ceiling that does not move with stars.
Such a waste.
A sound catches his attention and Sanguini does not hold his breath because there is no breath to hold. The sound is different from the tears that fall in the other room or the erratic thumping of hundreds of hearts trying to find a steady grip on the reality of what had transpired over the night. It is a living sound surrounded by so much silence.
Canting his head, the vampire listens.
"You will have to leave soon, Luca. The day is starting to br--"
Horace does not get to finish his sentence. Sanguini keeps a hand pressed to the wizard's mouth and listens again. It's shallow and unsteady and almost gone, but he can hear it.
"One of them is still alive," he says, his voice marked with a tone that does not suggest that Slughorn argue with him. Sanguini points to a sheet near the door. "That one."
Horace is there first because Sanguini lets him be first. He doesn't trust himself not to be overcome by the cloying scent of living blood, no matter how slowly it thrums through the injured student's veins. Slughorn draws back the sheet to reveal a mass of dirty blond curls, some of which is caked with dried blood and a sad sort of noise catches in the wizard's throat. Shaking his head, he looks over at Sanguini with shining eyes.
"She is not dead," Sanguini insists. "I can smell the life. And I can hear her heart."
"Greyback was too much for her, my boy," says Horace with a catch in his throat. He draws the sheet down further. "See?"
Any other time it would have amused Sanguini to be called boy by someone who is three centuries his junior, but he is too distracted by the injury to the girl's shoulder and neck. It reeks of wolf filth and makes Sanguini recoil in disgust. He is faced with a dilemma. Saving her will leave her with this mark and a future tied to the moon. Letting her succumb and fade away would break the oath he gave to Minerva in exchange for his own survival.
I will speak for you. If you do not give up on the living ones.
Horace is easily moved aside, falling back on his round backside as Sanguini crouches closer. He looks first to his wrist, the wiry blue veins beneath his pale skin, and then to the wizard sitting beside him before his gaze shifts to the girl on the cold stone floor. From her neck there is a small trickle of blood and despite the wretched canine smell of it, his eyes go dark and his teeth sharpen.
The blood that drips from the open vein in his wrist, passes over her pale lips until he can hear her heart thump louder. Everything beyond that happens in a rush. Horace calls for assistance. The matron of the school's hospital wing swoops in and bundles the student off. An Indian girl about the same age helps her, while trying to wipe away tears of both pain and joy. Sanguini doesn't feel the hand shaking his. He doesn't see the smile on Horace's face or hear the whispers of gratitude from those around him.
He is lost in his own thoughts of the implications of his decision and leaves the school before the sky grows too light.
March, 2001
"You won't catch me stepping over that threshold, no matter how good the drinks are. 'M a Leaky Cauldron man through and through. 'Sides. You can't trust those sorts. Not as far as you can throw them."
Lavender hunched her shoulders and ran her fingertip over the employment section of the Daily Prophet, crossing off all the ads she knew wouldn't give her the time of day. Partly because she'd already worked for that particular employer and the ad was there to find her replacement, but mostly because she didn't have the skills to even get past the interview. Behind her the pair of old wizards clinked their tankards and congratulated themselves on remaining patrons of the Leaky.
Glancing over at the 'now hiring' ad that sat opposite the main employment section, Lavender bit her lip. It was a full page spread for a new establishment; the one being sneered at by the men behind her. She didn't really have the skills necessary to tend bar, she thought, or wait tables. Her experience with drinks was more the imbibing of them than the pouring of them. But since the new place, Red, was offering employment and with rent looming, beggars certainly couldn't be choosers. She tugged the page out of the paper and left the rest on the table.
Outside the late March clouds had rolled in over the city of London, giving the Alley a dusky pallor and a certain gloom that one couldn't find in most other cities. Lavender tugged up the hood to her jacket and skirted around a pair of older witches who were haggling over beetle eyes at an outside stand.
Red was located at the end of the alley, just beyond Ollivanders, which had still not been rebuilt since the war. The old wizard sold his wands in Hogsmeade these days, preferring to be as close to the school as possible. Diagon was so different from Lavender's childhood memories of it. Parts had yet to be rebuilt and that which had been rebuilt was somewhat out of place with the rest of the aged buildings.
And then there was Red.
The newest addition to Diagon had been around for about a month. Unlike the Tudor-esque style of the rest of the Alley, buildings that seemed a little top-heavy for their own good, the new bar was almost a straight-edged box. There were no windows. There could have been windows, but the spaces were bricked up so that only outlines of windows remained. And aside from the lettering on the sign, the entire façade was black.
It reminded her of the Muggle teenagers who had lived down the street from her house wearing all black in the summer and far too much eyeliner.
The whole goth thing was just too much.
Lavender stepped up to the door and stuffed the newspaper page into the front pocket of her jacket. Squaring her shoulders and practicing all of her best interview lines, she took a breath and knocked. The wait for a response was uncomfortably long and Lavender was glad that the only other person in this end of the alley was an old man digging through a barrel of used shoes in front of the junk shop. At least no one else was around to watch her wait.
Finally the door cracked open.
Lavender's eyes widened in surprise.
To call the man who answered her knock handsome was a disservice to the word. He was tall, a good head taller than her, and that made it very easy for him to look down his perfectly straight nose at her. His dark hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck, only emphasizing the sharpness of his face. If it were any other person, Lavender would have melted under his cool, direct stare. He was beautiful.
But he was also a vampire and immediately her hackles rose.
A frown appeared on his face and he looked her up and down, wrinkling his nose as if he'd just smelt something foul. Lavender felt anger start to simmer in her belly. How dare he make that face at her! Pinching her lips, she thrust out the newspaper ad. Without sticking his hand out into the daylight, he somehow managed to take it from her, not even dropping his eyes to read what she had just passed to him.
And before she could open her mouth to speak, the vampire stepped back into the shadows even more, draping himself in the dark of the room.
"No," he said sharply. Then he closed the door in her face.
Lavender picked at her food, trying to be enthusiastic about the vegetable curry in front of her and not think about the steakhouse a few blocks away that served perfect, rare steaks. She gave the food a stir. Spending an evening with her best friend's vegetarian sister hadn't been a part of her evening plans. Those had included scowling into a bowl of minty-chocolate ice cream and muttering under her breath about the unfairness of vampires. But Parvati had asked nicely and without the usual huffy demands, so rather than push it and end up getting yet another lecture about being too anti-social, Lavender had agreed.
Glancing over at the twins, she half-listened to Parvati go on about her latest boyfriend. This one was German, unlike the last one who had been Portuguese. He'd transferred to the international magical cooperation team a few weeks ago and apparently had the "loveliest hands of anyone she had ever met before."
"Is the curry too spicy?" Padma asked suddenly, interrupting Parvati's description of her German's beautiful smile, and poured herself another cup of tea.
Lavender flushed and looked down at her plate. "No!" she smiled and raised a fork to her mouth. It wasn't lamb vindaloo, but it wasn't terrible. There were just only so many chickpeas one could eat. The heat of the dish, however, tingled against her tongue and she pushed the mouthful into her cheek. "It's lovely. I just had a big lunch, so I'm not really that hungry."
To her left, Parvati let out a quiet, yet very disapproving, sniff and Lavender shifted uncomfortably under Padma's gaze. In her mouth, the lump of curry turned to ash, taking more than a few attempts to swallow. Once it was down, the twins seemed satisfied, but instead of returning to their previous conversation about this latest love of Parvati's life (of which there had been a few), Padma pointed her wand at the kitchen. A long plate floated out and set itself in the middle of the table. The gulab jamun were artfully arranged in a circle, swimming in syrup and sprinkled with pistachios.
"How are things at the magazine?" Padma asked, whisking away Lavender's uneaten curry. She dished out a bowl of the sweet dessert. "With all the new shops at Diagon, you must be writing plenty of arti-OW!"
A thunderous look spread across Parvati's face as Padma leaned down to rub at her leg, scolding her sister in angry Hindi. The pair of them started to argue and Lavender decided to put all her focus into the sweet dessert in front of her, finishing quickly while the sisters spat words back and forth.
"I'm sorry, Lavender," Padma said after a moment, her cheeks flushed. "I didn't realise you'd left the magazine."
Lavender shrugged. "Left. Sacked. Not really much of a difference these days." She reached for the purse that had been sitting beside her chair before giving a somewhat pointed look at Parvati's sister. "Things will maybe improve once the Ministry overturns Umbridge's werewolf discrimination laws. Until then, even partial werewolves get the shaft."
Padma sucked in a breath, her mouth falling open in surprise. Parvati started to protest and while it was warranted, Lavender didn't really want to get into it. So she forced a smile onto her face and shouldered her purse. The bag thumped against her hip, her array of keychains jangling on the strap.
"It's fine," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but not overtly cheerful. "I'm starting at that new place in Diagon. The new bar. Red."
Somehow the lie came so easily and before she was bombarded by a thousand questions, Lavender thanked Padma for the food and told Parvati she would be home later that night. The twins each wore the same stunned expression as Lavender left the flat. She was almost grateful for it. She'd stunned them into silence and it had allowed for a hasty getaway. Once outside, she covered her face with her hands and muttered a few choice curses under her breath.
"God, you bloody idiot," she grumbled, shoving her hand into her bag and pulling out her wand.
The next moment she was standing in the middle of Diagon Alley. It was late enough that stalls were rolling up their wares for the night, covering things with canvas and locking them away with spells. Lavender glanced first to the Leaky Cauldron where she knew she could get a stiff drink, but then her attention was drawn to the other end, down past Ollivanders.
The sign over the door was lit with what seemed to be candlelight and as Lavender approached, she could see a number of younger witches and wizards milling about outside. Despite the sign clearly indicating that Red was open for the evening, no one seemed to want to be the first person to enter. Lavender huffed. How on earth did that Vampire think he was ever going to get any business if everyone was too scared to go inside?
Marching through the group, she pushed on the door and crossed into the building.
The decor was truly predictable, she thought. Very... vampire-y. Plush velvet chaises sprawled across the room and the polished bar was lined with glasses. Behind the bar, an imposing and very non vampire man was straightening the bottles. Lavender shook her head. He looked like some kind of undertaker, not a bartender. How depressing.
"Welcome to Red, my dear..." a smooth, voice spoke from behind her. "Do you have a preference for dr--" He stopped speaking and scowled when she turned to face him.
Lavender raised her eyebrows. "Well that sort of expression just screams 'spend your money here, Lavender.'" She gestured to the empty room. "Did you scowl away the rest of your customers too, or am I a special case?"
"I thought I was clear when you were here earlier," he said, tucking a hand into the pocket of his long robe.
"No. You actually weren't. I didn't exactly get a chance to speak and you gave me one word as a response. In any case, it's clear you need someone to draw people in because all of this..." She waved her hand at his outfit and then at the bar as a whole. "Really isn't working, is it?"
He opened his mouth as if to speak but Lavender held up her hand. "Now I know you're thinking, 'oh she couldn't possibly have the experience to do well here', but how about I make you an offer?" She tilted her head and waited for him to make any sort of response. A small nod of his head was the only indication that he wanted her to continue. Lavender took a breath. "I get ten people to come in and stay longer than one drink... and you agree to let me work here."
The vampire- and Lavender still wasn't quite sure how she knew in her gut that he actually was a vampire- crossed his arms over his chest. The long sleeves of his robe billowed around him and Lavender almost giggled. He really was going for the creature of the night bit. It was truly amusing.
"What makes you think I need to have you work here?" he asked, still looking down his perfectly straight nose at her.
"What makes you think you don't?" Lavender gave him a challenging look and then waved her hand at the empty room again. "There's no one here. If your goal was to make money, then I think you're going about it the wrong way. I mean, playing up the whole bloodsucker theme is a bit over the top and Lurch over there," she indicated to the bartender, "isn't helping things either."
"I haven't interviewed many potential employees before..."
"Obviously..." Lavender flipped her hair over her shoulder.
The vampire's nostrils flared and he took a step back, again looking like he'd just come across something foul. "But..." he continued. "I imagine that insulting one's potential employer doesn't happen."
"You insulted me first," she declared. He looked surprised at that. Score one for her, she thought smugly.
"I did not--"
"You slammed a door in my face and you keep looking like I've marched in here after stepping in dragon dung. I don't know if adorable blondes have upset you in the past, Mister Vampire, but I'm not them and you ought to realise that I'm the best thing that will ever happen to this place."
He observed her for a moment. Only it was a bit longer than just a moment. Long enough to make her almost doubt her declaration. It was a very Snape sort of thing, she thought, remembering how the Potions professor could just stand there and stare at her until she felt like maybe it really was three spoonfuls of lacewings she was supposed to add to her potion instead of two. Lavender set her shoulders and stared back. She wasn't going to let the vampire win.
Finally he waved his hand. "You have one night. Ten customers. Three drinks each."
Then he sunk into the shadows and left her on her own.
Sanguini closed the door to his office on the second floor of the building. He tossed his long, black robe onto a side desk where it lay in a heap along with his Vampire Sanguini persona. Tugging open the door to a small fridge, he took out a blood pack and started to unwind the tubing from around the middle.
He was equally impressed and irritated by the girl in the room below. Impressed by her nerve and irritated that she would choose this as her ideal place of employment. Somehow he'd thought that any sort of influence the werewolf's bite might have had on her would have been negated by the blood he'd given to bring her back from death. As it seemed, not only was the wolf influencing her, but it was amplifying her Gryffindor nerve.
He wasn't sure what was worse.
Draping himself across one of the office chairs and lazily sucking on the long tube from the end of the bag, he thought about that fateful night where his own blood had passed across her lips. In the long years that Luca DeGradi had spent on this earth, that moment at Hogwarts had been the first time he'd used his own blood to extend the life of another. His blood had created her new life, much in the way making a new vampire would do. Though he felt no such fatherly instinct toward her, as a maker would feel towards his or her child, but there was still some kind of connection.
It was a shame she still carried the distastefully cloying scent of wolf about her. He couldn't help but be put off by it.
Reaching forward, Luca flipped a ledger open, letting his mind and fingers wander over the numbers written on the pages. In the month that Red had been open, there had been the odd customer or two. They were usually the young witches or wizards looking for a thrill and only staying a moment before fleeing back to the pub at the other end of Diagon. The pub that was safe. The pub that wasn't owned or run by a vampire. Soon he would need to find something else to pass the time. Attempting to be a businessman just didn't seem to work so well. Perhaps it was time he returned to the continent and visited the mountains of Romania.
Though seeking out his own kind had never been a joy in the past. It was why he'd tolerated being in England for the last decade.
Drawing in a breath for no purpose but to let it out in a sigh that puffed out his cheeks, Luca tossed the empty blood bag into a bin. He glanced over at the discarded cloak and pursed his lips. He did not want to give up so easily on his business, but there was only so far his personal finances could stretch before he was left back at his meagre beginnings. Dipping further into money he'd saved over the years was not realistic.
With a grumble of frustration, he got to his feet, grabbing the robe as he left the office.
Only to be met with the sounds of conversation in the room below.
Peering over the railing that surrounded the second floor, Luca was astonished to see a number of people sitting at the various tables below. Slowly he pushed his arms into the sleeves of his robe and watched as Lavender Brown wove her way around the room, setting drinks in front of patrons. A thousand different questions filled his head and almost as if she could hear his shock, she looked up at him with a satisfied expression.
She met him at the bottom of the stairs and, to his credit, he managed no reaction to the wolfish scent that floated about her hair and shoulders.
"Twelve customers. Some with two drinks. Some with three." She looked at the little pad of paper. "You know... Lurch over there makes a surprisingly good Pink Squirrel."
"A what?"
"It's a drink."
"I gathered." He tried to take control of the conversation. "The agreement was ten customers. Three drinks each."
"Which is thirty drinks." Lavender held out the pad of paper. "I have thirty-one."
"Dare I ask how you managed to get them to come inside?"
"Well they were all waiting outside, but you seem to have everyone thinking that you're going to eat them the moment they come inside. This whole 'ooo I'm a dark and brooding vampire and here's my dark and brooding vampire bar' thing really isn't working. I just told them to come in and try it out. I might have let them inspect my neck for bites."
He snorted derisively.
"Yeah, I know. Bad move. Table five all looked down my shirt at the same time." She glanced over at a group of young men, smirking in the corner and then waved her fingers coquettishly. "S'alright though. I told Lurch to put bogies in their lagers."
"Alright then," he said, brushing some nonexistent dust from his robe.
"Hmmm?"
"You may work here." He held out his hand to her. "Luca DeGradi. Also known as the Vampire Sanguini."
She shook his hand. The touch was warm and, in a strange way, felt very familiar to him. She gave a little nod. "Lavender Brown. And we're going to work on this whole vampire thing of yours."
Late April, 2001
"Would you stop fussing with my hair, Ms Brown," Luca swatted her hand away.
"I didn't spend all these weeks convincing you to style it shorter to have you ruin it by slicking it back with... oh my god, did you use Brylcreem on this?" She clucked her tongue. "Were you planning on joining a barbershop quartet after the bar closed?"
She shook her head. Getting Luca to shift away from his "The Vampire Sanguini" persona had been like asking Ron Weasley to wear the scarf she'd knit him in sixth year. Worse than pulling teeth.
"Stop trying for the creepy vampire theme and go for the sexy vampire," she says. "Haven't you heard? Vampires are supposed to be sexy. All the best books say so."
"That trash you've been reading is not at all accurate," Luca replies with a scowl, cursing his reluctance to send her packing. "We told that woman she was getting it wrong. Dimitri should have never agreed to that interview. American witches have far too active imaginations."
"Yes well... Lestat is sexy and that's what people want these days. Trust me."
Lavender frowned, pulling her thoughts back to the present and gave the longer pieces of his dark hair a twist until they looked rakishly disheveled without appearing like he'd purposefully tried to make it look rakishly disheveled. She glanced up at the mirror, still somewhat startled by seeing his reflection. He'd had to show her early on that there were a lot of things about vampires that everyone got wrong. The reflections. Garlic. Crucifixes. None of it was really part of real vampire mythos. Just stories that both muggles and wizards made up.
The only thing he still seemed concerned about was being staked, which was still true, or set on fire.
Still. It was funny to see some of the younger wizards trying to keep themselves safe with heavy crosses around their necks.
Lavender gave one last bit of hair a flip and a tousle before she decided it was suitable for the evening. She stepped back, pointing toward his office. "There's a garment bag on your desk. Go change."
"This had best not be another of your cockamamie schemes to get me into leather trousers. I told you I wasn't interested."
Lavender clapped her hand over her mouth and tried to hold back the laughter. Her shoulders shook under the pressure of it all. Finally she managed to look up at him and he was staring at her with a baffled expression.
"What?" he demanded tersely.
"I'm sorry," she said between giggles. "But did you just use the word cockamamie in a sentence? Where did you even pick that up?"
Luca muttered a few insults under his breath in Italian before rolling his eyes. "I don't live under a rock, Ms Brown, despite what you may think. I do also read the occasional novel."
"Just not the vampire ones," she chuckled. "Cockamamie...good grief" She flicked her fingers towards his office. "Just go. Change. I promise there's not a leather item to be found."
Lavender watched him leave then scooted around the bar to the sink where she washed the hair product from her fingers. Wiping her wet hands on a towel that was tucked into the back of her jeans, she quickly surveyed the bar. In the month that she'd been working at Red she'd managed to get Sanguini to relinquish control of the decor and his appearance. It took a good week of pleading for the latter.
She could understand. Cutting his hair was a big step and she knew that it wouldn't grow back ever. But it had been a good decision. As had giving the room a coat of paint that wasn't so... black. She'd been subtle. This was no tea house and tablecloths or doilies weren't needed. But if there weren't any windows, then there had to be something that would make the place feel less like a dungeon lair and more like a place one would want to stay and have a few drinks.
It had kept her busy. The moon came and went and although she had been just as grumpy as she usually was during those few days of the month, Luca had seemed to handle it better than most wizards. He anticipated her mood before she'd even lashed out and diffused it so much more expertly than her previous employers.
She did appreciate that. More than she'd been able to say.
The bartender, whom Lavender had stopped calling Lurch when she'd finally learnt his name was Bernard, arrived with a pop. He always chose to apparate into the building instead of using the Floo, saying it was far too dirty a means of travel. Lavender smiled in greeting, never failing to be pleasantly tickled when the looming man took her hand and kissed her knuckles politely. Beneath his imposing stature, he really was one of the sweetest men she'd ever come across.
"Mademoiselle Brown," he said in perfect English with his lovely French accent. "Did you manage to get him to change his hair?"
"Barely. But yes." Lavender smiled. "You'd think someone who is as put together as I am would be taken seriously when it comes to how appealing a man should look... but he's very stubborn."
Bernard laughed and said something in rapid French that she didn't understand.
"Next time you call me a mule, Bernard, I might rethink keeping you employed," Luca's voice came from the stairs.
Bernard shrugged and grabbed the towel tucked into Lavender's jeans. "Perhaps. But what does an Italian know of Bordeaux wines? Or Cabernet? You would be lost without me." He picked up a tray of glasses and disappeared into the back to make sure they were properly cleaned before service.
Luca turned to face her then, holding his arms out for inspection. Lavender sucked in a quick breath. He'd taken the time to change his hair again. This time, at least, he'd not slicked it back. It wasn't the tousled look she'd given him, but it still worked. And the suit. She certainly hadn't expected the suit to look as good as it did. All his measurements had entirely guesswork on her part, but everything seemed to fit just as well as she'd imagined it would. And did he ever wear it well. Lavender knew he was attractive, but put the man in a well cut suit and she found herself a little taken aback by her own reaction. Her palms had gone all clammy and her mouth dry.
"Do I pass muster?" he asked, clearly waiting for a response.
She nodded.
Then disapparated.
"You overwhelmed her," Bernard said as he returned to the bar, setting the spotless glasses on the counter. Behind him floated in a wooden crate of wine bottles that found their way to the space under the sink.
Luca was still stunned by Lavender's sudden departure that he found himself caught off guard by Bernard's statement. Shooting the Frenchman a look, he shrugged off the jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs to his shirt, folding them up. She'd left so fast that he'd not had a chance to thank her for the clothing. The last time he'd sent someone to get new clothing, he'd ended up with trousers that were too short and a shirt that was too tight across the shoulders. Getting them altered had been such a trial, he'd had to sit and fiddle with the needle and thread himself.
"I did nothing of the sort," he said finally.
"Of course you did," the bartender replied, checking the levels on the spirits. "When you're all cloak and intrigue, it's easy to remember that the Vampire Sanguini is a role. When you're like this," he paused and waved his hand at Luca, "it's a little more difficult to not be drawn in. Even I find it a little overwhelming." He set down a whisky and picked up a vodka, making a note on a pad of paper. Glancing over his shoulder. "But my husband doesn't need to know that." He shrugged. "It is different for women, I suppose."
Rubbing a spot on his forehead that seemed to throb in irritation, Luca pressed his lips together. "That's ridiculous. The wolf in her... would prevent any sort of attraction."
"Would it?" Bernard tapped the tip of his pencil to his tongue. "I don't see you recoiling from her these days. And I've been relieved that our evening discussions of art and history are back to just that... discussions of art and history and not her dreadful wolf scent being wafted around the bar."
"Just because I don't comment on it, doesn't mean I don't notice it." Luca reached over and grabbed the jacket. Not wanting to continue the conversation further, he launched himself upward and landed on the other side of the railing on the second floor. In a moment the door to his office was closed behind him.
It was ludicrous. He'd put on a suit that she'd arranged for him and he'd wanted to check and make sure she was satisfied with it. He'd not been trying to be seductive at all and if she'd had some kind of adverse reaction to him because he was a vampire, then it was best that she did leave and get control of herself before embarrassing herself.
Dropping down onto one of the chairs, Luca tried to think of the last time he noticed the wolf in her. There was the obvious. When the full moon came about, her tone became sharp and angry, her temper much more easily triggered. But after that... there'd not been any other instant he could pinpoint. He'd grown used her and he was inclined to admit to himself, he enjoyed her company and trading barbs back and forth.
But that certainly didn't mean he'd tried to overwhelm her senses.
Muttering a few curses against Bernard, the Frenchman's mother and the rest of his ancestors, Luca rolled down his sleeves and put his suit jacket back on.
The new Vampire Sanguini was to make his appearance.
The bar was slammed. It was, by far, the busiest evening Red had ever seen. When Lavender had returned even Luca had to admit that he was a little in the weeds when it came to the number of tables, and that was coming from a vampire. There wasn't an empty seat in the room. He didn't understand where all the people had come from or why they'd suddenly all decided to visit the bar that night, but they had.
Not that he was ungrateful by the increase of paying customers or anything.
Grudgingly, Luca withdrew all the curses he'd laid upon Bernard and his family. The bartender had handled the onslaught of orders with aplomb and at one point when the crowd became a little more than rowdy, the Frenchman had drawn himself up to his full height and seemingly scattered the patrons with a look. It had truly been impressive.
Once the last customer had left and it was well into the small hours, Luca settled himself onto one of the bar stools.
He waved his hand at the man behind the bar. "Go home. Your cleaning spells will tidy everything."
With a grateful look, Bernard vanished.
"Well that was a success," Lavender said, flicking her wand at a few cloths and setting them to wipe tables around the room. She popped behind the bar and crouched down, digging her purse out from behind the trash bin where she always hid it. "Think we might hire some more staff?"
"We might have to," he admitted, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Were there any special advertisements in the paper that I wasn't aware of?"
Lavender shook her head, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. His nostrils flared and he did catch a whiff of the wolfish scent of her, but it had become so familiar around the bar that he really had to concentrate to discern it from the other scents that filled his nose. He nodded his head to the seat beside him and once she'd sat down, he poured her a glass of moscato. The bottle was near empty and he didn't feel like attempting to save it.
She smiled as she took a sip. "The only thing I've been doing is chatting up all the young witches and wizards around the alley and when I have to go to the Ministry or Hogsmeade. You know... check out this trendy place... run by a devilishly handsome vampire.. you'll not be disappointed. Et cetera and so on."
He watched her for a moment before coming out from behind the bar and taking a seat once again. "You're quite invested in the success of this place."
One of her shoulders rose and fell. She tipped the glass back, finishing the wine in a few swallows. "All in the interest of keeping myself employed, I suppose." She leaned over and gave him a nudge. "You're not so bad either. For a vampire."
"That's good to hear," he said with a wry smile. "Your abrupt departure earlier was cause for a bit of concern."
"Oh that." She waved her hand dismissively. "Just getting myself set for the night."
She didn't offer any other explanation and he decided right then and there that he wasn't going to pry any further. He could have compelled a better answer out of her, but Luca found he was enjoying not knowing all of her thoughts. Not that she kept most of them away from him. Lavender Brown had a bad habit of speaking exactly what was on her mind when she wanted to.
"Thank you," he said after a long moment of silence between them. He leaned over without a second thought and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
That in itself was a mistake, he soon realized. Once he'd touched his mouth to her skin, he could feel every part of her intensely. He heard her intake of breath and through his lips he could feel her pulse start to speed up. It had been a very long time since his last contact with a living person in such a way that he found himself getting lost in the sensations that were waking each and every one of his senses.
Touching a finger to her chin, Luca turned her face towards his and fit his mouth against hers.
Suddenly, everything went in and out of focus. He wasn't sure if he was still Luca or if he was once again Sanguini. All he knew was that her soft sigh of pleasure filled his mouth with a breath that he hadn't known he wanted to taste until it was happening. He could smell the heat on her skin and hear the ache in her throat. His teeth grew sharp with a need that he'd not felt in such a long time.
It was familiar. His own blood still thrummed through her veins in a way that magic couldn't actually describe. It thumped one word to him. Mine.
Drawing away from her lips, he kissed her jaw and then pressed his mouth to her neck. The steady pulse hammered against his lips. He smiled.
"I always worried that saving you had been a mistake..." he whispered, his teeth gently scraping against her skin, almost cutting it. "I'm glad I was wrong."
She went still. "I'm sorry... what?"
He lifted his head and for the first time he saw a fear in her eyes. The kind of fear and confusion that happens when someone hears the very last thing they ever want to hear. She dropped her arms from around his shoulder and shifted back on her seat, looking at him expectantly.
"Explain."
He could lie. He could have easily just distracted her with another heady kiss and cleared her mind of any thoughts of what he'd just said. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do either. Letting go of her, he also sat back and gently ran the tip of his tongue over his aching teeth.
"I was there. At Hogwarts." He looked at his hand, turning it over and running a thumb over the vein in his wrist. "You were the only one in that room that had a chance of surviving. Just barely. So I... my blood brought you back."
He'd expected her rage at this revelation. He'd expected her to be white hot with it. And at first she was. Her skin radiated the anger before going as cold as ice. That was worse. All of the passion seemed to drain from her eyes, replaced by something with absolutely no spirit. In that moment he wanted her to yell. He wanted her to do something that showed she was still Lavender. That she was still the spirited girl he had come to know.
"I saved you," he said gently, searching for words. "Lavender, I --"
"No!" she snapped, sliding off the chair. "You trapped me." Lavender waved her hand at her neck and the blurry glamour she kept up, something he'd never been able to see through, dissolved before him. He'd thought that his blood had healed her completely but the angry marks of Greyback's teeth still marred her shoulder and neck. Luca couldn't help but recoil.
A scowl crossed her face at his reaction. "You trapped me with this repulsive scar... and I'll never be rid of it. How dare you make that decision for me."
And for the second time that night, Lavender vanished without another word.
Parvati came down the hallway, undoing the long plait she always kept her hair in when she slept. The t-shirt that doubled as a nightgown sported the name Puddlemere United across the chest. She scuffed her bunny slippered feet across the hardwood, into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of juice. It was her "I didn't have a boy sleep overnight" outfit. Comfortable and a bit frumpy and not something she would wear if she were trying to impress a bloke. When she came back into the sitting room, Lavender spoke up from her spot on the sofa.
"Am I completely mad?"
Without missing a beat or spilling a drop of juice, Parvati dropped onto the sofa beside her. She was rarely ruffled by morning surprises. "You'll have to be a bit more specific, darling. In the general sense... no. On some things, maybe?" She drank from her glass.
Lavender groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Luca kissed me."
"Ooooooo, the vampire?" Parvati immediately set down her glass and turned to sit cross-legged beside Lavender. "Tell me everything. I mean, you're not a creature of the night right now, so I have to assume he didn't bite you as well. Was it everything the novels say kissing a vampire is like? Were you seduced? Was it amazing? Tell me!"
"Parvati, stop!" Lavender wanted to shake her friend. "It's not the kiss... well, it is. But it's not just that." She frowned at her hands. "He brought me back after Greyback bit me."
"Oh that..." Parvati seemed unimpressed and reached for her glass. "He's the one that goes by Sanguini, right? Yes, he's the one who found you alive after the battle when we all thought you were dead." She settled back against the arm of the sofa, cradling her juice against her chest. "I did tell you. When you were in hospital. I thought that's why you liked your job so much."
Lavender had no words. She was at an utter loss for them and it was an odd sensation because normally she always had something to say. Obviously she didn't remember anything during those first few weeks of recovery. It had been a blur of pokes and prods and 'sorry for your situation' and 'there's nothing we can do' all wrapped up in a dozen Get Well Soon! balloons.
"Lavender..." Parvati reached forward and folded her fingers over Lavender's. "I say this with complete and utter love. But you need to stop dwelling on what happened." She let go of the fingers and placed her hand to Lavender's mouth to keep her from speaking. "I mean it. We've been dealing with mood swings and PMS since we were twelve. You're not any different than you were. You don't become a beast during the full moon and grow all that extra hair..."
"I get it," Lavender said with a sigh, pushing Parvati's hand away. "Alright? I get it."
Parvati finished her juice and got up from the sofa. "I'm just saying... we didn't lose you. I didn't lose you. So I'm kind of ... really grateful for Sanguini. For that. And for helping you to be happier in the last month than I've seen you in the last couple of years."
With that last remark, Parvati took her glass back to the kitchen and then went off to have a shower. Lavender looked out the window at the rising sun. There was no point in going back to Red now that it was daylight. She'd have to wait until the evening. Not that she had any idea what she would say to Luca when she saw him. Parvati had caused so many conflicting thoughts to run through her head.
Letting out a deep breath, Lavender decided to go to bed. Maybe things would be clearer after a few hours of rest.
"I'm still not all that happy," Lavender said when Luca finally appeared in the bar just after sunset. She'd been waiting since mid-afternoon, unable to stand just sitting in the flat until it was time for her shift. "Greyback's bite didn't turn me, but it didn't leave me without a mark. I've got these ugly scars and I can't stand cooked meat and every full moon it's like my skin is flying apart and everything hurts and I snarl at everyone. But I don't change."
The only indication that he was paying attention was the slow movement of his eyes as she paced about while talking. Other than that he was still as glass.
"And all of that makes me a registered part werewolf. Easily sacked and unable to hold down a steady job."
"Except this one." His arms dropped from their folded position as he spoke.
"Except this job. And I love this job and I love Bernard and love the customers. I even love you despite my better judgement." She drew in a breath and fiddled with a stack of napkins that were sitting on the bar.
"But..." He took a few steps closer, leaning on the bar beside her.
"But you should have told me at the start," she said finally.
He shook his head. "I doubt you would have bullied your way in here and insisted on me giving you a job if I had."
"Probably not."
"Red would have never started to become a success."
She smiled. "I did do that, didn't I?"
Luca reached over and covered her hand with his. His fingers were cold against her skin and she wondered briefly what his life had been before he'd become a vampire. Though she suspected that was another story for another day. Glancing over, she reached up and fiddled with his hair. He still hadn't gotten the hang of styling this shorter style.
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he rolled his eyes at her. "I meant what I said. I was wrong to be worried about saving you. Back when you were lying there on that floor at the castle, all I could think of was that wretched stench of wolf that was coming from your wound. Tying you to that fate was not a decision I enjoyed making. But saving you was the right thing to do. Too many people died. You didn't need to be one of them."
"I was reminded this morning that there are some people who are grateful for that," she said, letting her hand drop from his hair and rest on his shoulder.
"Are you going to leave?" he asked.
"I thought about it," she admitted. "But I decided that I wasn't going to let all my hard work go to waste."
He turned to face her, gesturing slowly between the pair of them, feeling awkwardly teenaged despite his many long years. "And this?"
Lavender raised her chin, smirking a little. "Well first you're going to have to explain this whole 'stench of wolf thing' to me and then I'll decide whether or not you're worth my time. Because wrinkling your nose at how I smell is a definite turn off."
Luca smiled widely and reached over, fitting his hand to the small of her back and tugging her a bit closer. "Would it help to say that I've gotten used to it?"
"Maybe." She stood on her tiptoes and touched her nose to his. "But it was a definite insult. You'll have to make it up to me."
"I think I may have an idea for that."
As it turned out, Luca DeGradi, the Vampire Sanguini, made a very compelling case in his favour.
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Date: 2016-06-03 09:34 am (UTC)I'm not much of a Lavender fan, but this one makes her work! She's grown up, and had to deal with SO much, and yes, he's a prat, but it will get there!
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Date: 2016-06-03 10:16 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2016-06-13 11:36 pm (UTC)I'm becoming more and more of a Lavender fan. She's very forthright and determined, and I like that about her.
It's fun that she keeps Luca on his toes. Very nicely done. :)
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Date: 2016-07-02 04:54 pm (UTC)Thank you for the lovely comment. <3