Hello… *dodges rotten fruits* I'm not dead! I'm sorry! I'm trying to write an XMen-HarryPotter crossover *dodges more fruit* IT'S BEEN ON MY MIND FOR A WHILE! It would also be nice if you read it… I've hit a block on this story, so this is purely a filler chapter… I AM SO SORRY! I had trouble deciding if this would be an angsty filler of a fluffy one, so it's gonna be both! *mumbles to self* let's see how well this works; it turned out fine in my head… I think…

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership…


"Well, every wolf has a ma-" Derek, the ass put a hand over my mouth. I bit down on his finger, but he wouldn't budge. I crossed my arms and pouted. Well, pouted as best as you can when you've got a massive hand covering nearly half your face.

"I'll tell you later, Chloe," he said quickly, glaring at me, "when we're alone." He looked at me pointedly, emphasis on 'alone' telling me all I needed to know.


Derek POV

"What did she mean, Derek!" Chloe shrieked, making me wince. That really hurt… I growled in my head at Charlie; why did she have to go and make things difficult.

"Werewolves have mates," I snapped finally, making her stop her whining and blink, "and Charlie's not mine. She's been bugging about this for a while now…" I rubbed the back of my neck.

"So…" Chloe's eyes started to well up, "y-you've g-got a m-m-mate out there w-waiting for you?"

I sighed. Way to go, Charlie.

"No, Chloe," I said, "My mate's here."

"Is it Tori? I thought you hated her? Or were you lying when you said it wasn't Charlie?" Chloe was hyperventilating slightly. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard.

"Listen to me for a second!" I said loudly. She blinked owlishly.

"You are my mate, Chloe Saunders, you! Charlie's like a sibling, always will be; it's part of the pack bond, but you are my one and only!"

She stared at me blankly.

"I-I'm y-y-your m-mate?" she stuttered. I smiled; it was adorable.

"Yes, Chloe; that's what I've been trying to work into your head for the past five minutes while you've been panicking."

She jumped up, clapping her hands. Leaning in slowly, she suddenly stopped, as if unsure.

"C-can I k-kiss you?" she asked hesitantly. I nodded, and she smiled, connecting our lips. I sighed happily. Finally.


Rickie awoke to a pounding head and an aching throat. He needed to feed! Frantically, he tried to sit up in the oppressive, musty darkness.

Hang on.

He took a slower look around, checking out his surroundings. He was a long way from where he was supposed to be. What had happened? One moment he'd been speeding along, hunting to work off his anger at that bitch, Lauren, and then the next… It was so fuzzy! Why couldn't he remember?! A flash of pale skin in the corner of his eye, and a sharp pain in his neck followed by the world distorting.

What had happened?

"Finally awake, I see," a dark chuckle echoed in the small room. Rickie tried to snarl, but ended up coughing, his throat was so dry. So dry. He needed blood. As if sensing his urge, another malevolent chuckle sounded. A dirty, human woman was shoved into the cell.

Rickie's nose twitched, eyes zeroing in on the tiny movement of skin where he pulse was, barely obscured by her ratty hair.

"Go on," the voice crooned, "eat. Enjoy yourself. I know you're hungry."

Rickie was so desperate; he wanted so badly – so badly – to go to that woman and to drink her blood, but something in him made him stop.

He had found a mate, and he would only drink her blood. Only his mate. With a snarl, he picked the woman up and thrust her fragile, whimpering form to the other side of the dirty room before moving as far away from her as possible, curling up in a ball and focusing on the memory he had of his mate.

His beautiful Charlie.

The voice chuckled some more.

"Defiant, aren't you?" it asked, smooth and persuasive, "no matter; you will eat eventually."

A rat ran across the floor.

Like lightning, Rickie was on it, sucking the measly morsel dry before returning to his corner, purposely ignoring the scent of the human just across the cell.

Fresh blood, right within his reach.

No! A female voice somewhere in his head shouted. He recognised it vaguely, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

He was so thirsty. His throat burned with every breath, his hands quivering with the effort it took to restrain himself from lunging at that delicious smell just across the room.

"Go on," the voice started urging again, "just a few little sucks. Everything will be better then."

It was so persuasive. Rickie's mind was spiralling out of his control, his thoughts bounding back and forth, back and forth as he tried desperately to ignore the growing urge to feed on the vulnerable form just across the room

Just out of arms reach.

Right. There.

He couldn't take it anymore. Without a thought in his mind apart from 'feed! Must feed!" Rickie lunged at the woman, who screamed at the sudden attack, and sank his fangs into her neck.

The flow of sweet, fresh, human blood into his mouth was like heaven after so many years of his 'vegan' diet. Greedily, he devoured the woman until there was nothing left but a dry, empty husk. He stepped back, blood dripping down his chin as the bloodlust left him.

His eyes locked on the poor, innocent being he had just murdered. Backing up until his back hit the rough wall, he slid to his feet, ignoring the sharp pricks of splinters embedding themselves in his back.

"Well done," the smooth, dark voice said suavely; Rickie could just hear the smirk.

Pulling his legs up, Rickie buried his head between his knees, blood-stained tears dripping down his face and falling quietly onto the filthy floor.

"What have I done?" he whispered brokenly.

"What have I done!"

With a broken wail, Rickie broke down and – for the first time since he was bitten over six hundred and fifty years ago – cried his eyes out.

A/N: … That got a lot darker than I expected it to… oops…. Review please!