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"Sir."

Reva stood there in the doorway, staring with disbelief at her boss.

"Sir?"

Healer Merton Crow was slumped on his desk snoring loud enough to compete with her broken dryer in her flat. He was partially hidden by a pile of paperwork that Reva was certain he had to complete by the day before.

"Sir!"

The man sat up in his chair with a flash, his eyes dazed and his wiry gray hair haphazard. His hands flew up to his face, patting it madly as he seemed to have forgotten why he was wearing a brown leather facemask.

Reva sighed heavily, hearing her breath whistle out of the filters on her own mask.

"Sir, I have an update on the Soots case."

"Hm? Mm, yes, yes, tell me," he spoke groggily, placing his thin wired glasses over the bridge of his nose. He was still looking around in confusion, and Reva worried that the man was somehow sleeptalking.

"The boy has shown signs of memory loss. He could not remember my name today despite being admitted here for a week."

"Bah. I've known you for years, and I mess up your name sometimes too, Rishi. It happens with the exotic names."

Reva blinked tiredly. "Rishi is the intern you fired a month ago." And the only other Indian Healer to step foot in the ward in the past three months. As well as a man. "Regardless, that was not the only thing he forgot, he is not the only patient who has had issues. I told you, that older woman, Odelia, has been quite confused and forgetful since the first day despite her previous clean bill of health."

Crow waved his gloved hand dismissively before dropping it to scratch his rotund belly through his dark green robes. "One is an incident, two is a coincidence."

"And three is a pattern, correct? Six out of ten of our admitted patients show early signs."

"You younger Healers," he grunted, standing up from his chair as though the last time he had attempted to do so was last year, "are always looking for excitement. You know what they say. If you are looking for a phoenix, every bird will catch fire! Trust me, Azita. I've been doing this for forty years. If this is Cerebrumous Spattergroit, I'll let you know. Go back to the patients."

Azita. Not even the same first letter as her name, but it did belong to the only other woman Healer in the ward. She was Persian, though, which perhaps was the same thing to Crow.

Reva sighed softly as she stepped outside of the office, wondering why she had any hope in having a conversation with that antiquated old man. Adjusting her brown leather gloves, she made her way across the hallway into the main ward. It was one of the bigger rooms in the hospital, yet most of the cots were empty. Only the Spattergroit patients laid in there. Some of them were asleep, looking pale and sweaty. Others were groaning and massaging their sore mouths. One of them was picking at their nearly rupture purple pustules.

Reva rushed over quickly.

"Now, Maudie, I thought I warned you not to do that," she spoke gently, using an antiseptic wipe to clean the teenaged girl's hands. She was fifteen and very angry about being pulled out of Hogwarts to minimize the spread.

"I can't help it, Healer Vora," the blonde girl complained, throwing her hands up in the air. "All that I've got to do in this bloody room is homework that my professors were so kind to send to me —" she did not at all seem to find them kind for that, "— and listen to Odelia over there mumble in her sleep! You all won't even let my friends come visit because it is 'contagious —'" she used air quotes to mock Reva's words, which only confused Reva, "— and I can't even respond to their letters because I've got bloody pustules on my palms that make it impossible to do so!"

She held her hands out in the air for Reva to see, green eyes wide with indignation.

"It's preposterous!"

"I know it isn't exactly enjoyable," Reva sighed, opening up a small green jar of balm meant to soothe the itching of the pustules. "Do you have any hobbies? Anything that can be brought into the hospital?" she inquired as she gently rubbed the balm onto the girl's palms.

The girl thought for a moment, her face still angry.

"I like to do puzzles. Jigsaw, you know."

Reva smiled fondly. "I'll see what I can do to bring you a puzzle, then. I'll go fetch some bandages. Perhaps if we wrap your arms, it'll curb the itching."

She set the balm down, her charmed gloves instantly drying of any residue, and turned around to head into the supply room.

Her heart raced a bit every time she walked in there since the incident about a week and a half ago. She found herself glancing over her shoulder every few seconds as she searched for a set pack of bandages. Her palm had healed the very day after that monster appeared, leaving behind only a small, 3-centimeter long scar. In the ten days that had passed, there seemed no sign of the beast reappearing. Yet there was no sign in the last nine years either, and suddenly he had emerged anyways.

Swallowing thickly, Reva pushed the thoughts away. She was protected. He couldn't touch her, and he couldn't think of her, and perhaps he would not return either.

She found the bandages and hastened to leave after she grabbed them. She couldn't spend her time thinking about monsters and beasts, not when she had work to do.

—

"Vora, Foggs wants to see you in his office," Mayura said, giving Reva a sympathetic look.

Reva groaned loudly, placing the pitcher she was cleaning down. It was loud in the Spiny Beetle, with several radios placed across the bar for the hordes of Quidditch fans to listen in on the match between the Ballycastle Bats and the Caerphilly Catapults. Seemingly, one of the teams just scored, as half the room erupted in cheers and the other erupted in enraged shouts.

"You know what he wants?" she asked, using her wand to put the dishrag away.

Mayura shrugged, short brown hair falling in her face as she poured a firewhiskey for a man on the other side of the bar. "All he said was to send you in. Good luck."

With a quiet groan and a roll of her eyes, Reva turned on her heel and trudged around the bar. She winced at the feeling of sweaty backs rubbing against her arms as she maneuvered through the crowd, wondering if she imagined the stray hand that took the liberty of grazing her behind.

Adrian Foggs, her manager and the owner of the Spiny Beetle, was one of the worst men Reva ever met, and yet she relied on him for a considerable source of her income. His office was at the top of a rickety set of metal stairs at the far corner of the bar. A bouncer stood there to ensure that no drunk witch or wizards tried to go up the stairs searching for a loo to be sick in, but when he saw Reva sulking over, he wordlessly stepped out of the way.

She gripped both handrails as she made her way up, the old stairs shaking slightly. The steps were so narrow that it was almost impossible to climb them in the three-inch heels Foggs made her and the other female bartenders wear (even though no customer would ever see their feet). She had to let go of one rail to press the back of her short skirt against her thighs, fearful that someone below was getting a free show. Yet another uniform enforcement.

The door swung open right as she raised her fist to knock. Reva stepped inside, glancing around the small space. The walls were cluttered with posters, plaques, and photos, and the little desk in the middle had a teetering stack of papers that nearly reached the ceiling. As the door swung shut behind her, the music below became so muffled it was like a distant memory.

"My shift is over in four minutes, Foggs," Reva sighed, looking at her wristwatch. It was 1:26 in the morning.

"What's the rush to leave?"

Foggs spun around in his chair, revealing himself. He was a broad, ruddy skinned man with steady, blue eyes, ears that stick out, and a cleft chin.

Reva didn't bother gracing that with a response, instead crossing her arms.

"I need you to work next Saturday night, doll."

She felt her eyes twitch, her nails digging into her arms. "I asked for Saturday night off a month ago. Which you approved."

"Yeah, I know, sugar, but I need you to come in. Plain and simple," Foggs sighed with a shrug, a smug look on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the look of sheer fury on her face.

"And I need Saturday off. You —"

"You knew when I hired you that this position required you to be a team player," he interrupted, rubbing the five o'clock shadow on his jaw. "We just booked an event today, and we need our best waitresses on the clock. Come on, doll, don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Reva slowly tilted her head at him, her chest burning with the urge to curse the prat out.

"Your last minute planning is not my burden. Now, I can pick up a shift Sunday, but Saturday is simply out of the question," she spoke between bared teeth, her foot tapping on the ground rapidly. He had pulled this sick trick on her many times before, for some reason loving to abuse his power over his employees, but this weekend was different.

Foggs titled his head back to laugh. It was a coarse and guttural noise, twisting his lips back to reveal crooked teeth.

"You work for me, babe. Your burden is whatever I want it to be. I've got dozens of girls younger than you lining up for this job, and I don't mind replacing you. You're nice to look at and all, but you've really got to work on that personality if you want to get married anytime soon."

She bit her tongue, hard enough to draw blood. Everything in her wanted to quit on the spot, or goad him into firing her, but she just closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of her nails digging into her skin. She needed this job. She hated it, but she needed it.

"Half shift. I'll work a half shift," she all but spat.

The ugly smile that warped his face made her stomach churn.

"Good enough for me doll. Hey, get me an ale before you leave, won't you?"

Reva left without a word, slamming the door behind her. Somehow, she could hear his grisly laugh through the wood and blaring music and cheers.

As she hurried down the stairs and through the crowd, Reva could feel a pair of eyes following her. She glanced up at Foggs's office, but he didn't seem to be at his little window. Slinking in between dancing bodies, she rubbed her hands over her arms to calm the goosebumps that arose despite the humid climate of the bar.

"Leaving so soon?" Mayura teased when she made her way back around the bar.

"Don't miss me too much," Reva grunted, bending down to grab her purse from where it sat next to a pile of clean dishrags.

"What did he want?"

"He's making me come in on Saturday. Bloody bastard threatened to fire me."

She straightened back up, offering a distracted smile to the witch in front of her with whom she made eye contact.

"Can I have —?"

"I'm off the clock, sorry," she interrupted unapologetically, giving Mayura a look before turning on her heel to leave.

Once more, Reva pushed her way through the crowd of Quidditch enthusiasts, this time making her way towards the exit. She turned around to gaze at the sea of sweaty and drunk witches and wizards as she slipped her coat on, tapping the pocket to make sure her wand was still there. That eerie feeling of being watched still lingered on her skin, but she ignored it as she turned around, waved goodbye to the bouncer, and stepped out into the brisk March air.

She could hardly feel her legs as she walked briskly. Her flat was only a five minute walk away from the bar, but she pulled her Nokia out of her pocket to call her brother anyway. Though it was quite late, she knew he would be awake.

Reva glanced over her shoulder as she slipped into an alleyway, choosing to take the shortcut. Her phone rang into her ear several times, echoing quietly into the night sky.

"Hey, it's Roshan. I'm probably ignoring you right now. You know what to do."

Reva hung up rather than leaving a message, figuring she would see him in a couple minutes anyway. She dug her hands deep into her pockets, wishing she had the foresight to bring gloves with her when she left the flat in the morning.

As she was halfway through the alley, she heard a small noise behind her.

She stopped right in her tracks. That sensation that she was being surveilled had once more returned, but this time she no longer had the safety of a hundred drunk bodies around her. Her right hand wrapped around her wand as she took another tentative step forward. This time, she could clearly hear somebody walking behind her, and she whipped around with her wand held steadily in front of her.

A couple meters away stood a tall, male figure. He stood in the center of the alley, safe under a blanket of shadows which covered his face.

Reva's shoulders heaved up and down with each breath she took, but she planted her feet firmer. Suddenly, her palm began to ache. She could feel her pulse pounding there as though the cut had reopened. It had been two weeks. She had put that day behind her. She hadn't had the time to think about it, not when she was working two jobs a day and sleeping four hours a night.

The man took a small step forward, and she took one backwards in tandem.

She could see his shoes now. Simple, black, luxurious.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

His voice was deep and husky. He spoke calmly, but his words echoed off the brick walls on either side of them, hauntingly disappearing up into the heavens.

Reva didn't respond. She watched her rapid breaths form clouds in front of her, and she clamped her mouth shut. Her hand was beginning to tremble where it was outreached in front of her. Her mind raced with possibilities, but her throbbing heart beat with fearful certainty of its fate.

He took another step forward, this time fully emerging into the light.

He was a handsome man. His hair was almost as pale as the moon which cast its rays on the two of them, swept away by the light breeze that brought goosebumps to Reva's cheeks. He had deep, hooded eyes, framed by straight, furrowed eyebrows, and a strong jawline that clenched ever so slightly when they made eye contact. He looked expensive, even if subtly so, with his wool cloak, satin shirt, and ornate serpentine cane. The rings on his fingers glittered in the moonlight.

Reva's breath hastened as panic flooded her body. She knew that she should run, but as her throat burned and face paled, she found herself glued to the ground and incapable of movement. Despite the frigidity that slapped her with each gust of wind, she was sweating.

"I just want to talk," the man continued, his words evaporating into white steam. He tucked his cane under his arms and slowly lifted his empty palms into the air. His face was stony, staring at her unblinkingly. "My name is —"

"I know who you are." Reva's voice came out hoarse and shaky.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, allowing the light to hit him at a new angle. She could see his eyes now, silver like the stars above, crystalline and piercing.

"Who am I?" he asked softly, his eyes scanning her. He was taking her in as though he had never seen her before, gaze lingering on her hand.

Her mouth was dry. She swallowed thickly, but it was painful to do so.

"Malfoy."

"Have you known all this time?"

She stared at him for several long moments. Her arm was beginning to hurt, but she refused to lower her wand. When he furrowed his eyebrows, she nodded slowly, watching his expression turn into something she did not recognize.

He took a step towards her, and she took another step back.

"If you take another step towards me, I won't hesitate to stun you," she proclaimed, jutting her wand towards him. "You already know you can't touch me. Garlic flower lotion. And I drink plenty of verbena tea, so if you try to drink from me, all you'll do is burn your mouth."

"Good. That's wise."

Reva blinked. Did she hear him correctly?

"Like I said..." He stepped towards her again. Her arm had been slipping down unconsciously, and she quickly brought it back up. "I only want to talk."

Once more, several tense moments passed where neither of them spoke or moved. Malfoy watched her closely. She could see the muscle at the side of his forehead tense, see his fingers flexing as though for dear life, as though it took all his strength and effort not to pounce at her right in that moment. The more she watched his face, the more it seemed to morph from a look of stoicism to that of deep, deep hunger. He gazed at her like she was his next meal, had even stalked her like she was his prey. His eyes ravaged her body the way that drunk men at the bar often did, but instead of imagining how she appeared naked, he was likely imagining how her blood would taste on his tongue.

She gasped softly, feeling her eyes sting. He looked so different than how he did on that day all those years ago. He had looked like a beast that day, mouth bared to reveal four needle-sharp fangs, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and eyes filled with bloodthirst. Her former classmate, a boy who had perhaps spoken one word to her in all the years they went to school together, her attacker. Despite his clean, expensive, proper appearance today, that same brute from nine years ago still lived inside of him.

Reva inhaled shakily.

"Stupefy!"

A jet of red light burst from the tip of her wand. She didn't wait to see if it hit him, instead turning on her heel and running. The adrenaline allowed her to run quicker than her trembling body should have been able to, but right as she was about to step out of the alleyway and into the main road, a gloved hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back in.

She gasped involuntarily as her back and head slammed against the brick wall. Her vision grow a bit spotty, but she managed to blink it away to clarity.

There he stood, only inches away from her and bending his neck so he could see her. He had his cane pressed against both of her wrists, pinning them against the wall above her head so tightly that she had no choice but to loosen her fingers and drop her wand. She struggled to move, squirming and trying to kick at him, but he was too close to her for any of her efforts to be successful.

"You missed," Malfoy murmured, gazing straight into her eyes.

She looked away, her chest heaving up and down. She continued to pull against his hold, but to no avail.

"Why did you do that? I told you I only wanted to talk."

"And I..." Reva panted softly, training her eyes on his neck. "I told you not to take another step."

He paused. And then he chuckled. It was a low, rumbling sound, and Reva could feel his chest shaking against hers. She could see his teeth too, and the sight of his canines made her stomach twist. With a small cry of disbelief, she closed her eyes, letting her muscles go loose.

"You're right, you did."

"I'll... I'll scream. Someone will find us..." she gasped softly. The adrenaline was leaving her veins, leaving in place strong fatigue. Her knees were starting to buckle, and it took all her effort to stay on her two feet.

"You can try, but I highly doubt anyone is awake at this hour," Malfoy spoke slowly, no humor in his voice. "But there will be no need to scream, so it does not matter either way."

She felt one hand let go of the cane, though the other was capable of holding it just as firmly on its own. She didn't have the energy to move, but she tensed as she felt his gloved fingers find her chin. He slowly lifted it up until her head rested against the brick wall. Her eyes flashed open when she felt his fingers gently tuck her hair behind her ear. His silver eyes were focused on the left side of her neck where he brushed her locks over her shoulder. A shadow cast over half of his regal features, his eyes darkening, lips parting, and his tongue just barely grazing against his lower canines. She could feel his breath on her jaw, his hair gently brushing her cheekbone.

"Like I said..." His fingers traced her collarbone. His voice was deep, dripping with hunger, and made her already racing heart skip a beat. "I'm not here to hurt you. Only to talk."

His thumb pressed gently against her skin just above her collarbone. That spot did not hurt anymore, but Reva inhaled sharply at the sensation, her eyes once more stinging.

The sound of her inhale made his gaze flash back to her.

In an instant, he stepped back, his hands at his side. Reva remained pressed against the wall, incapable of movement, but watching each of his quite closely.

"I apologize. I got carried away." Malfoy cleared his throat, looking far too human across from her. "I was wondering if the bite was still visible."

Reva's palms pressed flat against the brick. "How do I know you are not here to hurt me?" she asked slowly, her rapid breath visible in front of her.

He tilted his head. "It would not be in my best interest."

She furrowed her eyebrows.

"That night, all those years ago, when I... attacked you, I did not kill you."

Reva blinked. "Clearly."

Malfoy inhaled deeply, twisting his cane in his grip. "When a new vampire is created, it must feed immediately. It will die if it doesn't, and it is hardwired to do everything it can to prevent that. You were my first feed. I found you. But I did not kill you. If a vampire does not kill its first feed, then..."

"...Then?"

"It cannot feed off of anyone else."

Reva's heart dropped. "What are you saying?"

"I need you, Reva Vora."

She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. "That's not true. You haven't... fed on me in nine years," she panted, "and here you are now."

Malfoy nodded, glancing off to the side. "You're right. I am. Barely. I have tried animal blood, synthetic blood, blood from other humans, everything you could think of, and it all... it all barely keeps me alive. My body is deteriorating. I'll be dead in a few years without you."

Her mouth opens before she realizes. "Good. You should have died years ago."

Malfoy did not appear hurt. He only stared at her, standing pale in the moonlight with his hair rustling in the wind. He took a small step towards her, passing his cane to his other hand.

"Name your price."

Reva's jaw all but dropped to the ground. "Excuse me?"

"If you remember me, then you know I can satisfy anything you ask."

"My price for what?"

"Your blood, of course."

His eyes dragged up and down her body, this time settling on her throat. His expression was almost lustful, with his lips parting and his lids heavy. Reva's stomach twisted with nausea.

"One liter a day," he continued, light reflecting off of one of his canines, "for any price you ask."

Reva scoffed. "I would not sell my body for any price, and especially not to a monster."

He ignored her jab, taking yet another step towards her. She could hear how heavily he was breathing, almost as frantically as she was.

"100 Galleons every week," he all but whispered, his hand coming flat next to her head. "All the riches you could ask for. Everything you might ever desire."

100 Galleons? That was more than she earned from both of her jobs in any given week, tips from the bar included. Still —

"I will not whore my blood out to you," Reva spat in his face, shaking with fear and anger combined. Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest at any given moment.

"I know you need the money. No witch or wizard working two jobs doesn't."

"I will happily work every hour for the rest of my life if it means that it kills you."

Malfoy tilted his head. "And what about Roshan?"

Reva's breath hitched. "Are you threatening my brother?"

"No," he replied calmly. "I am simply asking how willing you are to pass up giving your brother a new kind of life." He furrowed his eyebrows. "How often do you see him? An hour every day, if you are lucky? Now your boss is making you miss his birthday next weekend. And, if I am not incorrect, your landlord has issued you multiple eviction notices because you keep missing payments."

She blinked blankly. And then, she bolted.

Unsurprisingly, she hardly made it one step before Malfoy pulled her back towards him. His fingers were wrapped tightly around her wrist, making her wince. A sole tear had slipped down her cheek from a combination of rage and terror, and she roughly brushed it away with the back of her free hand.

"Just think about it."

He pulled her even closer, making her gasp. His hand slid down her side and into the pocket of her coat. The sensation made Reva jump, but his hand was gone as quick as it was there. Malfoy let go of her, taking a few steps back.

"My contact is on there. Think about it."

He Apparated away in a fraction of a second, leaving Reva to slump against the wall in disbelief.