A/N: I would suggest re-reading the last chapter, it has been updated with an important scene!

Disclaimer: I do not own a thing of the Harry Potter universe, except Julia. 😊

"Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?" – Ron Weasley

o.O.o

My vision soon stabilized on something clear within a minute. We were in a dimly light stone corridor, almost like an underground cave.

He had not been lying about the nausea; I was light-headed but far from wanting to spill my guts out. He was still drinking my blood, until I made to push him away. He paused, removing his fangs in one swift movement, making me hiss in annoyance.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" I demanded as I turned around to face him, clapping a hand to my neck to slow down the bleeding.

The adrenaline was coursing through my body like a wave. Sanguini bowed with an unfazed smile, a drop of blood still visible on his lips.

"Apologies, I got carried away."

I stared at him, unable to figure out his motive.

"What do you want from me? Where have you brought me?" I pushed on, trying to find something around to help me figure out our location.

"Brasov has many underground tunnels. I have built myself a little home here."

He opened his arms as a sign of welcome.

"Come, let me show you."

Flabbergasted by the chain of events, I simply followed. It was a long corridor with a strong musty smell, and we passed multiple other entryways going in every direction. I wondered how anyone would be able to make their way around… or escape.

I eyed him cautiously in front of me, keeping a good distance between us. I had never heard of vampires wanting anything than drink the blood of their victims until death. This was beyond my magical knowledge. What was he up to?

We soon arrived at a large door forged heavily from metal and thick oak planks. He pulled out a key from his pocket before unlocking the entrance.

"It took a few years, but I am rather pleased with the results," he said with a hint of smugness.

He opened the door and made a hand gesture to let me go in first. I shook my head politely, not wanting to offend, and yet not foolish enough to fall for another trap.

"As you wish," he whispered, amused.

He went inside first and turned on the light. It was a vast opening with bottle green drapes scattered across the space to divide the rooms. Lights were wired by electricity, and there were a few Muggle trinkets that I recognized - which made me wonder where this Sanguini came from. In front of me was what was supposed to be the living room area, with oxblood red loveseats decorated with gold buttons.

"It's… nice," I concurred, starting to adjust my compliments, knowing he liked to hear them.

He gave me an odd look.

"You think so?"

I gave the room another once-over; it gave off an Arabian vibe, which was not a bad thing at all. I could not see the end of the space; I could only assume more rooms were hidden towards the back.

"Yes, it's…cozy," I added, although my thoughts were busy elsewhere.

How the hell was I going to get out of here?

I tried to hide my internal frustration, concentrating on the fact that I was still bleeding from the neck. My clothes were drenched in blood by now; the cut he made just above my breasts was still bleeding.

"So, I understand that you are a vampire and draining a human of its blood is not a big concern, but I would very much like to not die today," I said tartly, starting to feel the effect of the loss of blood.

I was becoming cold; my skin had gone white and clammy. He cocked his head to the side, clearly in no rush.

"I am still thirsty," he said, approaching me. His eyes focused on my bloody hands with clear hungry lust. "Why don't we clean these?"

I had been over-confident in thinking I could talk him over. This was a dangerous Dark creature, chatting my way out of it was unlikely.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked flat out, my heart beating erratically as I took a step back in fear.

"I have not decided yet," he replied, before grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the back of the room, behind the drapes.

It turned out he also had a bedroom; a four post Victorian bed covered in thick burgundy colors with pale white drapes surrounding the bed. I looked around and spotted a pantry of food half hidden behind more drapes.

"Am I your prisoner, then?" I continued, noticing that there was no other way out than the door we had come in.

He went over to the bed and pulled some of the covers off, motioning me to come.

"Consider yourself my food storage for now," he said simply. "Come lay down for a nap."

I felt fear, uncertainty and disgust all at once.

"I'm going to bleed out and die. I'm not going to lie down for a bloody nap, Sanguini," I retorted, giving the bed a look of revulsion.

He observed me in silence for a few seconds, as if my logic were finally making sense to him.

"Sleep, and I will paused the bleeding." He smiled, then. "Only for a while."

I shuddered, repulsed by the idea of him touching me in any way while I was knocked out.

"How can I trust you?" I asked, tiredness slowly creeping up by the outflow of blood.

"I need you for tomorrow night. You are safe until then." He motioned me to get in bed, this time far less patiently. "You are wasting blood."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew I had to rest. I cautiously went to the bed, as he expertly took out from under his cape bandages of the perfect size for my neck. He pushed my hand away and slapped it on. And then he pulled out another set of bandages for the bigger wound.

"Undress," he said placidly.

I sighed in defeat. There were worst things I could think of. I took off my shirt, standing in pants with my laced white bra spotted with blood. He stuck three other bandages to my skin; he clearly was used to it, by the way he barely looked at me. He saw I kept my pants, which were also covered in blood.

"Give me these," he said, twirling his hands for me to hurry up. "I don't want the bedsheets stained."

I gave him a murderous glare.

"If you insist," I muttered, pulling off the garment and throwing it at him.

He smirked, enjoying my discomfort.

"Sleep well."

And he disappeared behind another set of drapes.

o.O.o

I woke up feeling dizzy and thirsty. I looked down to see the bandages had been bloodied, but to a minimum. I raised myself on my elbows, surveying the scene. He had closed the lights, but had kept a few candles lit. There was no way for me to know if it was daylight or a mere few hours had passed. A headache kicked in as I tried to get up.

"Oh bleeding hell…" I groaned, pressing my hands to my temple in the hopes of loosening the pounding in my head.

I heard barely a sound of footsteps before a voice spoke above me.

"You need water. And some food. Eat up."

Sanguini shoved a plate of fruits and nuts on my lap and put down a glass of water on the night table. I gulped down a few grapes before drinking half of the water.

"You do this quite a lot, don't you?" I asked, just as he was about to leave.

If he kept a pantry of food and a stash of bandages on him at all times, and most likely a change of clothes for me; this was no work of a beginner.

He sat down on the bed in front of me, seeming in good enough spirits to humour me.

"I've been living alone for quite some time," he replied, grabbing a grape from my plate and eating it. "I do rely on the S.T.V. donations, but sometimes I do like to have a bit of fun."

I munched on a banana, observing him in turn.

"How long have you been a vampire?"

He pondered on that for a few seconds.

"Decades. I have lost count." And then he shrugged. "It took me a long time to be able to live with myself, knowing people would now see me as a strigoi."

"Is that a Romanian word for vampire?" I asked, curious.

He nodded, seeming bored by his own account.

"Strigoi, moroi, they vary on the folklore. If you and I had a child, it would be a dhampyre. A moroi is more of a phantom, and sometimes associated to werewolves. A strigoi, like myself, can be considered a vampire, but also a creature that takes the shape of an animal or becomes invisible… There are many Dark creatures that exist in Transylvania."

I had stopped munching on my banana, too focused.

"And have I not heard that some vampires, like Dracula, used to belong to a society of dragons?" I said, recalling what a tour guide had mentioned to me earlier that week.

Sanguini pinched his lips, as if the whole subject was incredibly tedious.

"Dracula comes from the word 'dracul' which means dragon, or balaur, in our tongue. But it did not mean they possessed dragons. That society that you speak of was an Order that battled the Ottoman Empire. In Romania, folktales say that a balaur could only be ridden by the Solomonari, black magic users. Or more commonly known as Wizards, like yourself."

I ate a grape slowly, fascinated.

"Have you ever seen dragon ridders?" I asked with a small smile, thinking of Charlie.

I knew the sanctuary used spells to hide the dragons, so even when they flew, they could not be seen with a naked eye. He shook his head.

"No, I have only heard stories."

I suddenly had an idea. I went back to eating my banana.

"Would you like to be a Solomonari one day?" I kept on, my brain thinking quickly.

He gave me a look of suspicion, but his interest was peeked.

"Perhaps. I would need a balaur for that."

I scratched my head pensively, trying to stall my ingenuity.

"What if I told you I could get you a dragon?"

His eyes gave me a glaring look.

"Don't be foolish. Dragons have not been seen for decades in these parts."

I almost wanted to laugh.

"Perhaps you are wrong," I retorted, mimicking his own sultry tone.

I could have sworn that he would have laughed but kept it together. His expression became austere.

"You look well enough… I wouldn't mind a little snack myself," he said, making me stop eating automatically.

My skin rippled with goosebumps in dread. He got up and ripped away the food plate, before sitting back down next to me.

"Not bleeding likely!" I spat in defense, raising up the sheets in an attempt to protect myself. "How much do you need to feed, honestly? You nearly took all my blood hours ago."

He smiled knowingly, a finger tracing up my arm teasingly.

"It's an art, to know when to stop."

"Yes, clearly, you have plenty of self-control," I retaliated in loathing, flicking his finger away. "I'll have you know that your recreational drinking is not high on my to-do list." I edged away from him.

He sighed, as if trying to explain something to a small child that won't listen.

"I will not take it all, just a small portion, before we leave."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Leave?" My heart nearly stopped. If we kept changing locations, Charlie would never be able to find me. Unless I escaped. "Where are we going now?"

He looked torn between answering and keeping it a secret.

"Somewhere… nice."

I stared at him, confused. But then again, nothing made sense, so far.

"What time is it?" I asked, wondering if us moving to another location meant that it was no longer daytime. Vampires could only move at night.

His eyes had focused on me, the need to feed apparent on his face.

"Time for a snack."

There was no way for me to dodge him fast enough; he took hold of my arm within a millisecond. He played with my palm for a while, as if testing for the best spot. I couldn't pull away; he was freakishly too strong for me.

"I like your blood, it tastes different to what I am used to," he shared, tracing a vein delicately. "A bit like when you eat foreign food; it's new yet… delicious."

His mouth hovered over my wrist, before clapping down his fangs in one quick motion. I winced at the burning sensation, but it soon melted away as the feeling of being drained of my energy took over. He was drinking slowly, in no rush. I wanted it over as soon as it began, but he would hold me tighter if I tried to move away. Which happened twice within the first minute; the new pain being his nails digging into my skin.

I started to feel lightheaded, as fatigue took its toll.

"Enough," I muttered, but I only saw his eyes turn a darker shade of red.

I felt his nails dig deeper and his drinking accelerated. I saw my skin had become ghostly white.

"ENOUGH," I barked, pulling away with all the force I had left.

He let go, unwilling. Without a word, he pulled out a bandage and threw it on my lap. I immediately clapped it on, putting pressure on the wound. He got up, ignoring my furious gaze.

"You don't care if I live or die, you bloody bastard," I whispered, enraged. "You disgust me."

He smiled with a bow.

"We are creatures of the night; my dear, not holy priests."

And he walked away with satisfaction, leaving me to rest, my dreams haunted by a wicked darkness.

o.O.o

When I woke up this time, I felt far from rested. My body ached from the blood loss and my head was spinning. I forced my eyes to stay open. Sanguini was nowhere in sight, but I knew he was not out of earshot. I tried to keep quiet as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. As predicted, he appeared in the following seconds.

"Sleeping beauty is finally up," he muttered, sounding almost annoyed. "Eat some food, and then get dressed," he said as he tossed back the same plate I had earlier.

I gave him a deadly glare.

"How about you tell me where we're going?" I retorted, matching his tone.

He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Somewhere nice, as I've said before." He observed me as I munched on cheese and fruits. "Now, I have a dress for you. May you be inclined to try it on and see if it fits?" I held my next bite in mid-air, finally connecting all the dots. He had changed into a completely new suit. He tried to hide his smile, but he could not contain his excitement. "I have been formally invited to one of the grandest balls of the year. You come at a great time."

I arched my brows, unimpressed.

"You mean you have great timing in kidnapping women?"

He shrugged, not inclined to battle it out.

"Just try it on."

And then he threw a gigantic swirl of fabric on the bed in front of me. The heaviness of the gown made me bounce. I stared at it, trying to take it all in. The color was of a deep emerald, made in 19th century style, with a million underskirts and a corset. Sanguini was waiting for a reaction.

"It's… big," was all I willed to say. I touched the fabric curiously, before noticing some symbols embroidered at the hem. "What are those?"

He looked to what I had noticed, before narrowing his eyes, as if my question itself was bothersome.

"Family crest. Not mine."

It seemed I had touched a nerve.

"Oh." I pulled the top of the gown towards me, taking in the detailed work of the seamstress. "It's beautiful," I added, seeing his expression change.

He nodded, before pointing to the dress, his eyes sparkling with renewed interest.

"Do you know how to put it on correctly?"

I realized what he was alluring to, making me pull the sheets higher on my chest in reflex.

"I'll manage," I said through gritted teeth.

I knew I would not be able to manage it on my own, but the thought of him seeing me half naked again was sending unsettling shivers down my spine. He bowed with a cheeky smile, before disappearing. I would not put it past him to lurk in the shadows.

"Creepy bastard," I whispered, knowing he could hear me.

With a heavy sigh, I began sorting through the gown's petticoats. I groaned, not in the slightest ready to face whatever was ahead.

This was going to be a bloody long night.

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! 😊