The Makeover - COMPLETED

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 4 ~ A Number of Situations

A mist illuminated by a full moon covered the ground in an abandoned graveyard, wrapping around the cracked and brittle tombstones whose namesakes were long forgotten. The heads and limbs of stone angels, demonic figures and carved images of the dead littered the earth, and vermin moved freely among the debris.

This cemetery was located a few kilometers from the parish of Pluckley, a small muggle town perching on the edge of the North Downs deemed to be the most haunted village in England. There was a small population of residents, all of whom were proud of their ghosts.

A rotund robed figure walked through the mist, stepping over the fallen stones and stopping in front of a small unassuming grave which only had a plaque rather than a headstone, and even that was almost completely covered with earth. The wizard pulled out his wand and pointed it at the grave.

“Dissendium,” the wizard breathed.

The face of the grave lowered slightly then slid to the left, revealing a staircase. The wizard descended into the dark depths, torches flaring up to light his way as soon the grave closed behind him. The wizard then walked up a stone corridor which opened on to a large circular room. His skin prickled as he passed through the stasis spell that encased it. In the room was a cooler, a small stove, a long table with a single wooden chair, a twin-sized bed, a wardrobe, a self-cleaning chamber pot and in the center of the room, a pedestal on which sat a glass beaker.

It was full of blood and covered by a small mesh screen.

A large gallon jug sat on the floor next to the pedestal. One quarter of it was filled with a black liquid.

“I am here, Master,” Peter Pettigrew said to the beaker of blood, walking over to it and removing the mesh top reverently.

The wizard lifted the gallon jug, unscrewed the top and tilted a single drop of the liquid into the blood, which turned black and bubbled for a moment, then calmed, returning to its rich crimson color. Peter put the top back on the jug and returned it to its resting place. He then replaced the mesh screen.

”Your feeding is done, my Lord, but since Nagini’s death last month, I have not been able to brew any more elixir. When this jug is finished, it will be over, my Lord. If you are going to do something, I suggest you do it quickly,” the wizard said, staring at the unresponsive beaker. “I cannot keep your blood alive much longer.”

He stared at the blood for several moments, then sighed. Still nothing.

When Voldemort was resurrected using the bone of his father, Peter’s hand and Harry Potter’s blood, the first thing he did was to locate the desolate graveyard and create this underground dwelling. He brought his loyal servant with him and filled the beaker with his blood, charging Peter to keep it alive, no matter what happened. Like the Dark Lord, the blood required an elixir made with Nagini’s venom to remain viable. A stasis spell was built into the stone to keep the blood from aging and dying as would be its normal cycle. A powerful anti-apparition ward as well as other protections were installed as well. No one could apparate into this chamber, not even Peter. It was this blood that was the source of the Phantom Summons. It held Voldemort’s magical signature and at times would involuntarily send out the Call. This unnatural occurrence did not affect all deatheaters in the same fashion. Some would suffer for hours, others would only get a moment’s worth of pain. Then it would be gone.

Peter himself did not suffer badly when the Phantom Summons was invoked. He merely had to enter the chambers and the pain would stop because he was in the presence of the Dark Lord’s living blood, which was just as effective as being in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. So the animagus was spared the torment of the other former deatheaters.

At first, when the Aurors found out captured deatheaters were being summoned, they apparated with the prisoners, afraid that somehow Voldemort had returned. This graveyard was the same graveyard the Dark Wizard had been resurrected in. After a careful search, and more such “false alarms” the Ministry wrote it off as the graveyard retaining some of the wizard’s residual signature from the powerful magic invoked to revive him, and just wrote it off as a magical oddity of no real consequence. The wizard had been dead for six years now and his body had been carefully destroyed.

Peter faithfully and fearfully tended the blood, half-afraid that one night he would descend into the depths to find his red-eyed Master waiting for him, completely restored. Voldemort never did tell him what the blood was for, but Peter figured it was to keep him connected to the earth somehow, so eventually he could be restored.

The blood was a lot less than Peter had to work with the last time he resurrected Voldemort. The Dark Lord had a small, rudimentary body the first time, a gnarled, ghastly infant-like body which he managed to form through constantly imbibing the blood of unicorns. But the unicorn blood could only do so much, and Peter was required to perform a ritual to return Voldemort to his full semi-human form. The Dark Lord left him no instructions on what to do with his blood other than keep it alive.

But the room provided the wizard with a place to stay. Most believed him dead, a casualty of the Final Battle. But Peter Pettigrew was a coward and at the first opportunity, transformed to his animagus form of a rat and scampered away to safety, then disapparated to the graveyard, where he hid himself. He had been here ever since.

Living outside of England’s most haunted parish was quite beneficial. When Peter needed food he simply cast an Accio spell stating what he wanted and in a few moments it would appear, flying straight into his waiting arms. When food, newspapers and other items began crashing through windows and soaring away, the muggle villagers took it as yet another manifestation of their resident ghosts and for the most part kept their windows open so they would remain intact as the food and other items disappeared into the night. They had no idea why ghosts would want food and newspapers, but the spirit world was a mystery and they loved their ghosts and didn’t begrudge them a thing. Besides, the residents of the parish were used to it now. It had been going on for years. So Peter was quite well-off.

His nightly duty done, the wizard made himself a ham sandwich and retired to his bed, picking up the latest issue of Playwizard he had accio’d last night off the floor. Peter reclined against the headboard, lowered the front of his boxers, pulled out his short, thick cock and began to enjoy the magazine interactively.

He found it an excellent way to pass the time.

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Hermione woke up early Friday morning, showered and hurried down to breakfast early. It was only six am. She had four more hours before her appointment, but was too excited to stay in bed any longer. She thought about trying to make herself more presentable, but decided against it. That was Mr. Sweetmeat’s job.

Severus was already in attendance at this early hour and scowled blackly as Hermione entered the Great Hall, bringing to mind his service to her. The witch walked past him without her usual greeting attempt. The wizard hunched over his oatmeal, quickening his eating pace. With just the two of them here, the witch might just try to strike up a conversation, and he wasn’t interested.

But this wasn’t the complete truth. Despite his hatred of his situation of having to serve as a two-legged niffler for Hermione, he was mildly curious as to what she had found out about the Mark. It did torment him after all, maybe she had some better explanation for it than “a magical oddity” which was the Ministry’s take on it.

Severus cut his eyes over at the witch. She was eating a very greasy sausage, and sopping up the grease with a thick piece of bread. Severus returned to his meal. He’d find out sooner or later what she knew. He finished his meal and exited the Great Hall, striding swiftly down the corridor, into the main hall and down the dungeon corridor.

The moment he disappeared, Sybil Trelawney appeared on the shifting staircase above. She had decided on an early breakfast. Maybe she’d get a chance to flirt with the Potions Master, who always ate his meals early.

Sybil’s idea of flirting with Severus was to stare at the wizard until he became distinctly uncomfortable and on the verge of hexing her. Severus had made the mistake several year ago of fucking the witch after a staff party held at the Three Broomsticks. He had consumed quite a bit of alcohol and the details were sketchy, but suffice it to say he was horrified when he woke up the next morning and found a skinny, bangled arm thrown across his chest, and Sybil sound asleep beside him, naked.

He pulled back the sheet and heaved, rolling out of the bed and racing to the bathroom. He managed to make it. Sybil Trelawney looked as if she were a practicing anorexic. Her breasts were tiny and flabby, her body gaunt with almost every bone visible. Gods, he had to be really drunk to have taken her to his rooms. He looked in the mirror at himself and nearly screamed as he ripped the Divination teacher’s knickers from off of his head.

He quickly got Sybil dressed and out, telling the hung over witch the night was a mistake, he had no recollection of it, nor wanted one. Nor did he want her coming back. Sybil was convinced that Severus really did want her back, but was in denial. What kind of wizard could fuck a witch the way he did and not feel anything?

Severus was that kind of wizard.

Hoping to revive the wizard’s ardor, Sybil sent Severus a pensieve that began from their entry into his bedroom. He found the pensieve wrapped in parchment outside his office door and brought it inside. The attached note only said: For Professor Snape.

He unwrapped the pensieve, stuck a finger in it and after viewing it for ten horrified seconds, threw it against the wall and shattered it into pieces. Then he went back into his rooms and showered. He felt absolutely filthy.

Sybil entered the Great Hall through the student’s entrance, jangling up the center aisle. She was disappointed Severus wasn’t there. Maybe he was late. She looked up at Hermione and her eyes narrowed a bit.

“Hermione, have you seen Professor Snape this morning?” Sybil asked her as she walked up the dais and down to her seat.

Hermione blinked at her for a moment, then looked at the Professor’s empty seat.

“Yes, he was here before I arrived. I imagine he finished his breakfast and left,” the witch said.

Sybil ordered a soft boiled egg and toast, then looked at Hermione suspiciously. She did stay in the dungeon area where the Professor resided. Hermione might look a fright, but she was still a younger witch than she was.

“What are you doing here so early?” Sybil asked Hermione as she tapped her egg with a spoon and pulled back the shell casing. She sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper on the contents. “You weren’t following Professor Snape were you? He wouldn’t take a second look at you, you know.”

Hermione looked at Sybil, her unibrow raised incredulously, arching like a chestnut rainbow over her eyes. Professor Snape wouldn’t take a second look at anyone. Not that she wanted him to look. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She wanted to be a witch that every wizard took a second look at. So technically Snape fell into the “look at me” category. She scowled at Sybil.

“No, I’m not ‘following Professor Snape.’ I have a lot to do this morning and had an early breakfast. Really Sybil, you have some nerve suggesting such a thing,” Hermione said.

“You could be desperate,” Sybil said, “In case you did have your sights on him I just wanted to make it clear that he’s off-limits. He and I have a kind of…thing going on between us.”

Hermione grimaced. Sybil was welcome to whatever thing between the two. She didn’t even want to imagine it. At the back of her mind, she thought Sybil was probably delusional. The witch doubted Severus Snape would be interested in someone as flighty and wooly as a Divination teacher of Sybil’s dubious skills. Hermione was still of the opinion she was an old fraud, who thought spooky voices and burning great amounts of incense could substitute for True Sight. The idea of the two of them as a couple was almost laughable. In fact, Hermione did chuckle without realizing it.

“What are you laughing at,” Sybil demanded, her eyes narrowing meanly. “At least I can say I have a man who I have been intimate with. Can you say that about anyone? No. You can’t.”

Ew. Sybil and the Professor intimate? As in fucking? Oh, this was too much. Hermione rose.

“Have a good day, Sybil,” she said, hurriedly exiting the Great Hall.

Hermione really could have lived a long and relatively happy life without that information. She doubted the witch would have made such a claim about the Professor if there wasn’t some truth in it. She shuddered.

“Ew, ew, ew,” she breathed as she turned down the dungeon corridor. As she approached her rooms, she saw Severus, apparently coming from Slytherin house, stop in front of his office to let himself in. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed.

The witch shuddered visibly and hurried into her rooms, slamming the door behind her.

“What was that about?” the wizard wondered idly, then entered his office. Who cared really?

He sat down at his desk and looked over some parchments, waiting for his first class.

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At ten minutes to ten, Hermione stood nervously outside of Love Bites Beauty Shop. The windows were heavily tinted. She thought she saw movement inside but no one opened the door. So she waited anxiously.

Adam apparated to the closest public apparition point and daintily made his way to the shop. Adam was a vampire Queen and could move about freely in sunlight, the only price he paid was he lost his vampiric powers in direct sunlight. In the old days, vampire hunters would lure a Queen out into the light of day to kill her, since she lost her strength and abilities and was like a mortal woman. But no one hunted Adam. He and his clutch didn’t hunt humans, but subsisted on rare steaks and animal blood. In addition to Victor, Adam ruled over about one hundred minions. Minions were lower vampires, those instantly converted to vampires in one bite. The transformation was so fast however, that it fried their brains for the most part and their forms were sub-human. You could tell they were vampires by their animal-like features. They were connected to the Queen and were more like loyal dogs than individuals.

Adam inherited his minions from the old Queen, Vashti, whom he killed after being bitten by Victor, who intended on turning him into a minion after drinking his blood. However, Adam was more female on the inside then he imagined. Instead of becoming a minion, he became a Queen. With this particular type of vampire, human females died when bitten by a minion, but turned to Queens when bitten by a Sentient. Sentients were intelligent vampires that were turned slowly by a Queen in order to retain their minds and physical forms. The turning was completed when the tainted individual sought out the Queen for mating. Sentients were forbidden to partake of human females at all by their Queens. To do so was an act of betrayal as it would result in the creation of a rival. Adam was an accident. But he still slaughtered the former Queen and reigned in her stead. He was a good Queen as well, fixing up the catacombs, treating the minions with kindness, taking humans completely off the menu and spoiling Victor rotten. Victor initially wasn’t thrilled to be the consort of a male Queen, but it was either that or death, and Adam grew on him. He was a very affectionate Queen and treated Victor with respect, consulting with him on important decisions, dressing him well, and being a good companion outside of intimacy. Vashti never cared anything about what he thought or how he looked. She ordered him about like a slave. Adam was much better, and the handsome consort had a fierce protectiveness for his Queen.

Adam Sweetmeats turned and strode up the lane where his beauty shop rested. He saw Hermione immediately. She looked as she did in the picture. Adam clucked his tongue and sashayed up to the witch, who looked at him in surprise as he offered her a limp-wristed hand.

“Adam Sweetmeats honey. You can call me Adam,” the Queen said.

Hermione didn’t take his hand but looked at him oddly.

“You’re a vampire,” she said, her voice small.

“Right in one, Precious. And you’re a witch in need of some beyond the grave help,” Adam replied grasping her hand. Hermione shivered. The vampire’s hand was freezing.

“How…how are you out in the sun? It should kill you,” she asked Adam.

“Dearie, it would take more than a little sun to kill a Queen,” he said, smiling at her and showing his sharp eyeteeth. They were retracted of course.

Hermione stared at him. A Queen? Well, it was obvious the vampire-wizard was gay, but she was sure the Queen designation meant more than that. Suddenly the door to the beauty shop opened and Victor appeared, standing just outside the bit of sunlight that splashed in when he did so. Hermione looked up at the tall, pale and very handsome vampire, who looked back at her steadily, not saying anything.

“That’s Victor. He’s my consort. He’s also a Sentient vampire. Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Adam gushed as Victor smirked at him. “Too bad sunlight would turn him into a pile of ash. He has to stay inside the shop all day.”

Hermione quirked her unibrow, which made for an interesting effect.

“How is it that vampires own a beauty shop in Diagon Alley?” the witch asked, fascinated now.

“Well sweetie, we aren’t a threat. I petitioned the Ministry and they sent observers to check us out and after a year Victor and I were granted the right to walk among you. The minions weren’t however, which is just as well. They aren’t too bright. I always wanted a beauty shop, and when I inherited the clutch, I also inherited the treasure trove. I’m disgustingly rich. So I got a business license and opened up “Love Bites.” Business is very good. I’d be up to my fangs in witches right now if I hadn’t put the word out I wasn’t accepting customers today. Yesterday was pure madness…but for the next three days my shop is your shop. I have accommodations set up for you as well in the lower level. When you leave here, you’ll look and feel like a new woman…but you won’t be. You will still be the same woman though other people will claim you are different. What we are going to do here is change you outwardly but keep your inner beauty. It is important that you do that my dear, to avoid becoming superficial,” the vampire said.

Hermione was warming up to the vampire. He seemed to have a good heart and good advice. She nodded.

“Good,” Adam said rubbing his hands together. “Now let us go.”

Hermione started to enter the shop. Adam caught her arm.

“Oh no, sweetie, first things first. We simply have to fix those teeth. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else with those sticking out at me…and I am very used to big teeth, let me tell you,” Adam said taking her arm, blowing a kiss at Victor, who caught it, and dragging the reluctant witch down the street.

Her teeth? Good gods, her parents would have a fit if her teeth were magically fixed.

“Your letter to me had me nearly in tears, Hermione,” Adam said, using her first name familiarly. Hermione didn’t mind. “I know what you’re going through. I was fat, gay, in the closet and totally ruled by my mother. She orchestrated nearly everything in my life and always put me down, telling me what was wrong in my life. The thing was, she tried to rule it anyway. It was years before I could make my own decisions. I think I was twenty-eight when I finally told her to back off. Gods, it felt good.”

Hermione listened, thinking of her own mother and situation.

Adam’s blue eyes turned on her.

“And I know what it’s like to be lonely and overlooked too. I wasn’t a guy with a great body and looks. I was a chubby little teddy bear, one other wizards used and tossed away. I couldn’t find anyone for myself. I tried to suicide twice. I probably would have ended up killing myself if Victor hadn’t bit me. Now, life is good…well…my half-life is good. I’ve never been happier. And I am going to make you happier too. We are just like sisters,” the vampire Queen gushed, squeezing Hermione’s arm. “And sisters look out for each other. We are going to show the wizard world what they’ve been missing. And show you how to keep it up.”

Hermione really felt hopeful and felt an empathy with the vampire Queen. He really did seem to know how she felt, and his life sort of paralleled hers. Suddenly they stopped in front of a building. Hermione looked up at the sign swinging on a pole overhead.

It read: Al Dente, Denti-wizard at Large

”Let’s go in,” Adam urged. “Al’s waiting for you. I love him. He stays open late night to treat Victor and my minions. He’s excellent.”

Hermione hesitated, then walked into the office.

It was time for a change.

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A/N: Ooh. A little depth, mystery and danger added to the mix. Peter and LV’s bubbling blood. Oh yeah. And Adam is a sweetheart. Hermione at the dentist...bless her little heart...and major, major EWWWW for Severus and Sybil. lol. Anyway, please review.