Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Many A Mind And Blood	By : dra6on Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3062 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and no money is made with this

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Summary:

He had surrounded himself with darkness and weakened Voldemort. He had lost his friends in the process. Can’t Fate cut a guy some slack? Now he needed to suck blood and howl at the moon? AU, slash, het, creature!grey!Harry, eventual HPDM

To explain the situation:

Diverges from canon at Halloween, 1996, when Harry makes a decision that changes him for darker. Voldemort is defeated but not killed in April/May 1997 and Dumbledore lives. Snape was revealed as a spy and continues to teach DADA, Malfoy is trying to repent for his doings and Harry still has Half-Blood Prince’s potions book without knowing it is Snape’s (he did not attack Malfoy in the bathroom but left the blonde alone).

Story begins a week into Harry’s seventh year. He has changed a lot on his 17^th birthday when the wizard received his magical and blood inheritances.

Warnings:

Spoilers from all the books, violence, slash, het, blood, suspense, threesomes, foursomes, mpreg, (BDSM and dub-con on AFF version) and lots of other things that I haven’t even thought of adding yet. FF will host edited versions but unedited ones will be available in AFF and links provided.

Notes:

Updates will be irregular but chapters will be 10 000+ words. OSSAS is my main story and I write this only if I face a dead end with it (which lately has been quite often). And I have other ideas brewing so I have no idea when the next update will be.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and no money is made with this.

MANY A MIND AND BLOOD by dra6on

Chapter 1: Potion

Harry Potter sighed in relief when he finally reached the top of stairs leading into the Owlery. Hundreds of owls were perched around the tower and soft hooting and rustle of feathers filled the evening air. The young man – for at the age of seventeen he surely was no longer a boy – scoped the floor and spied a clean spot on the eastern side of the tower. He settled down and was immediately greeted by an armful of one snowy white owl. He petted Hedwig’s soft head and felt the tension leave his shoulders and his headache reside. This far above the ground the underlying emotional currents of the castle couldn’t reach him.

Being an empath sucked big time. And he might have coped if it had been just the empathy. But it wasn’t. It never was for him.

After sending a scan all around the tower room he met the eyes of his faithful familiar.

“Paranoid, girl?” he asked softly. “I guess I am.” The owl pulled on a red strand of his hair and Harry could almost read the question in her eyes. Oh yeah. Another oddity he hadn’t explained to her and even she got curious when her master changed as much as he had.

“The coming of age, girl.” He moved to scratch her belly. “Got red highlights now and they aren’t going away. Nothing is going away.” She hooted softly as if to encourage him to continue despite the slight despair that was evident in his voice. He sighed yet again. He was doing that a lot lately. And rolling his eyes. The thought of having only an owl to talk to resulted in another sigh. “Sorry I haven’t talked earlier,” he continued. “It’s been a hectic six weeks.” He took a minute to gather his thoughts. “Received my heritage. You weren’t there because I sent you to Hermione in Australia. Thanks for that again and sorry for letting you witness the fallout. Well, on my birthday Regan had a double night shift so I was alone and just waiting for the day to change – like always. The next thing I remember I’m sprawled on the floor and have four paws.” Hedwig hooted in alarm and seemed to be checking if he was alright.

Harry chuckled, devoid of any emotion. “I’m fine. It took me awhile to figure out how to move and change back but I dealt with it.” His expression darkened. “I went to sleep pretty excited I was now a natural animagus – or so I thought. Next thing I know Regan is waking me up in her usual style and I go and latch onto her neck to drink her blood. I got two mouthfuls before I came back to my senses. Regan was terrified and I jumped back horrified of what I’d done and turned into a bloody hummingbird. I was panicking and sick and confused...” He trailed off, remembering the onslaught of emotions he had suddenly been under. It had been a terrible first experience for an empath. He sighed in acceptance. “Regan finally calmed down and so did I. I managed to transform back and only my genuine horror of what had happened stopped her from fleeing in the spot.”

Hedwig’s compassionate hooting calmed his nerves. It had been hard. Regan hadn’t come near him for a week but when Harry had proven to be in control of his newly gained attributes the muggle had calmed down. She was much more accepting than wizards would have been, and the knowledge that Harry had suddenly become some sort of empathic shapeshifting vampire hadn’t perplexed her any more than the revelation magic existed. The wizard ran his free hand through his red and black hair. It wasn’t all. The full moon three weeks ago had transformed him into the wolf he’d become on his birthday and he hadn’t been able to transform back. Thank Circe he’d retained his sanity or Regan would have been the first to die. As it was, he’d curled up in the basement and hadn’t shown his face (snout?) until the sun rose and he was able to transform back.

And now it was nine days until the next full moon and he was in a school full of children. Fortunately he would only transform on one night whereas normal born werewolves were forced to endure three nights of raging wolf instincts. What did however worry Harry was that he could always feel the wolf within him, as a part of him. Hear it snarling when something annoyed him and feel its dissatisfaction when he never hunted his own food. Nothing of the like happened with the other forms he’d taken.

A sudden idea presented itself and Harry smiled in anticipation. He turned his attention back to Hedwig. “Would you like me to go flying with you, girl? Would you like that? I mean I made a decent merlin couple weeks back, I bet I can turn into a passable owl.”

He shooed the curious owl away, hid his bag in the corner and finally concentrated on the rustle of feathers and on everything Hedwig made him feel. His body felt like rippling and when he opened his eyes he was on the floor and everything was bright but not too bright. He blinked and tried to speak. Only hooting came out of his beak.

It was then that he noticed the absolute and unnatural silence that had fallen into the Owlery and looked up. Every single owl was staring at him, frozen on their spots. He was used to stares but humans had nothing on owls when it came to the intensity of a stare. It felt like two hundred laser beams had been aimed at him and he was quietly roasting alive. He reflexively ruffled his feathers to seem more threatening.

Hedwig, his loyal companion, gave an angry hoot that apparently was directed at every other owl and took to the air. Harry scrambled for a moment, trying to straighten his wings until giving up and just letting his body’s instincts take over. He rose from the floor, beating his strong black wings soundlessly. For a brief moment it felt as though the world fell from beneath him but he finally got enough air under his feathers and what he felt then was closer to the feeling that overtook him whenever he got to the air with his Firebolt.

Owls were not fast flyers but they were born to stalk and strike fast. Much like Seekers really. Maybe that was the reason Harry felt so at home following Hedwig through the air towards the lake. They were going slow, Harry mostly sticking to a straight line to adapt to his form and Hedwig circling him in obvious joy. When Harry finally got the hang of flying with wings and started to playfully skirt up and around the Snowy Owl she became exultant. A weird emotion to sense in his normally serious and motherly companion.

They played above the water until the sun had completely set. The thick feather coats protected the two owls from the cool night wind and Harry gave in to the whining wolf inside him and actually caught a mouse to share with Hedwig. Killing and eating it raw didn’t really bother him when one part of him became intoxicated at the scent of fresh blood and the other rumbled in contentment at the successful kill. Plus, after all the rituals he’d gone through last year he was painfully aware of the rawness of the world.

Strong eats weak. But, fortunately sometimes the strong also protected the weak.

After watching Hedwig eat the rest of his catch without marring any of her beautiful white feathers, Harry took to the air again and led the way back to the Owlery. He felt slight disappointment from Hedwig when he turned back to human and called her to perch on his arm. “Sorry girl, it’s been a long day and I’m not nocturnal.” He watched her blink and wished he could somehow make her feel the love he had for her when he so clearly could feel her emotions. Instead he whispered, “Thank you. I love you too.”

He let her go one nightly adventures and only then proceeded to check the time with a Tempus spell that had him cursing colourfully. It was after midnight and he didn’t have his cloak to hide under. He did not want to possibly land in detention on a full moon night and he really didn’t want to waste his time scrubbing cauldrons or floors when he could be reading about the interesting blood heritage detection potion he’d found in one of the restricted section’s books just yesterday. He wasn’t sure if he was arrogant to think he might be something more than a parselmouth, an empath, a werewolf, a shapeshifter and a vampire. Not to mention a wizard in the first place, but his instincts were telling him to try the potion.

What harm could it do?

Snorting at his train of thought he picked up his bag and made his way down the stairs. The castle was eerily silent but Harry could feel her slow, unchanging emotions swirling in the stones she was built of. He knew it was an ongoing debate whether Hogwarts was actually sentient and here he knew the answer but couldn’t tell anyone without revealing why he knew. He hadn’t yet tried to talk to her – it had been only the first week of school after all – but he fully intended to let her know he was aware of her. The only problem was that he’d probably have to do it from her magical centre to actually get her to notice him and he had no idea where that was. Maybe he’d finally read Hogwarts: A History in search for clues. He couldn’t just ask Hermione without making her more suspicious than she already was and he did not want to obliviate her.

The young wizard froze for a second and held his breath when he heard noises and then quickly hid in a broom closet that, if he recalled correctly, was one of the most popular snogging points. But since no one was there he assumed it had been checked earlier already and wished from the bottom of his heart that silence would be enough proof of the place’s emptiness for whoever it was stalking the corridors.

The steps came closer and then passed by his hiding place. The shuffling of the feet sounded definitely filchish. But apparently his luck hadn’t abandoned him and he made the way to Gryffindor tower without further interruptions. There were still a couple of people in the common room and he was subjected to a few annoyed glanced – and irritated emotions – but luckily no one tried to stop him. Had that happened, he knew the peace of mind he’d gained from his flight with Hedwig would have evaporated on the spot.

Some tiny part of him wished he could have spoken to Ron or Hermione and he even glanced longingly at his former best mate’s bed once he reached the dormitory for seventh year Gryffindors but he knew it was false hope. He was too Dark now, too immersed in power. Not to mention his heritage would no doubt turn Ron against him and make Hermione regard him as an interesting magical anomaly.

Getting ready for bed Harry sincerely hoped he could have just said “fuck this” and then left for South America or the like. He was of age now and he could have legally withdrawn from school. But it was Hogwarts, his first true home, and he had wanted to walk these stony corridors for one last year. He would come back later – he was sure of it – but it wouldn’t be same then. He would change, shaped by all the new experiences he was bound to gain.

The young wizard – of Dark and Light both – went to sleep listening to the silent singing of the castle only he could hear.

oooOOOooo

The recipe for the blood heritage potion was difficult, far more so than anything he’d ever brewed before. But that was just the thing: before. The last time he’d brewed anything had been before the battle with Voldemort and Harry had gained a lot from that experience. He was leafing through the Half-Blood Prince’s potions book and suddenly all the suggestions seemed to make more sense. He understood why three clockwise stirrings would be better than four and grinding more efficient than crunching.

The worst thing was that he knew why he understood and it scared the hell out of him.

It wasn’t really just Potions. In every single subject he knew more, understood more, and he was trying desperately to hide it. The first week had been easy with every single one of his teachers starting with NEWT lecture and theory but they were now starting practical sections and failing deliberately did not come naturally for Harry. Potions was pretty much the only subject along with Defence where he did not need to pretend. He’d passed with flying colours last year thanks to the book but this year he’d have to utilize whatever it was he’d gained from last year. Maybe he could gradually get better and blame it on studying on his own. Everyone was starting to notice his retreat from spotlight anyway and he might as well give a plausible reason for it.

Then again, on that note... Harry sighed in irritation as his thoughts drifted again towards this direction. The masses seemed to be really curious why the Golden Trio had suddenly broken up though Harry had to wonder: if the general public treated him differently because of his changes why wouldn’t his friends? The rift had appeared between them last Christmas when he’d refused to spend the holiday with the Order and instead locked himself in the dungeons of Hogwarts to prepare for the future. He also knew their final fallout had been when he’d attacked Voldemort with a power none of his friends had even heard of. Ron especially had become difficult when he was given proof Harry was deliberately keeping things from him. Hermione had tried to be understanding but even she’d given up when Harry had sent her a howler stating he could not explain his powers and that the girl would do well to not stick her nose into everything because the world did not exist for her amusement. And when school had started this year his former best friends had not even talked to him despite being awfully curious about his changed appearance.

The adolescent wizard sighed and turned his attention back to the book before closing it in defeat. Laying low was difficult for him and getting around unnoticed even more so. Everyone knew what he looked like and was curious to find out the reason behind his seclusion. Most probably thought he was contemplating on becoming the next Dark Lord. Even that was better than the truth. The young man shuddered at the thought of what would happen if his heritage would ever made public. But before that he wanted to find out what exactly was his heritage. His sudden growth and the red highlights and little small things had all appeared after his birthday. He never used to sing and now he found himself always singing in the shower and humming when he was concentrating on something else. Thanks to his empathy he knew more than half of the school’s population lusted after him – which had not been the case before his birthday; then he’d been sort of cute but his birthday had turned him into a... hunk – and add to that the weird lights he’d begun to sometimes see flashing around couples and the fact that he no longer could wear anything synthetic... Even now he had dragonhide pants on under his schoolrobes because everything else either looked horrible or felt even worse.

Harry pulled out the recipe of blood heritage potion he’d copied from a book in the Restricted Section. It would take three days to brew and he’d have to skip classes which meant there was a possibility of landing in detention on full moon. Was it worth it? To find out about himself so fast? But what if the full moon’s werewolf transformation triggered some other unknown heritage of his – the ambient magic at Hogwarts could have that effect – and he ended up becoming a raging monster without any idea as to how to reverse it?

I’ll just lock myself in the dungeon and pray to the dead no one comes patrolling there, Harry thought darkly before stuffing the recipe in his pocket. He looked around in the library, relieved most people seemed to be having lunch. As much as he loved Hogwarts food last night’s hunt had made him crave for something else and at breakfast he hadn’t been able to touch the cornflakes which probably had sent the Hogwarts rumour mill into a frenzy with the news he was now on a diet. Eggs and bacon had gone down his throat only merely.

That’s what I get for not doing research, he chastised himself. Soon I discover I’ve awaken my vampiric bloodlust, not just the hunting instincts. Circe, can’t a guy get a moment of peace? I have enough problems with the werewolf. Do I have to worry about the vampire too? Not to mention the empathy!

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the wooden chair and glared at the ceiling. Bloody fifth years snogging on lunch break had his empathic side on a constant rollercoaster. He’d had to jerk about thirty times past week only because he’d happened into the range of some really horny teenagers. Somehow, even though the people tired, he didn’t. Worst had probably been Friday night when he’d had to go and sleep in the Room of Requirement because he simply couldn’t take ten steps without being attacked by aroused feelings that had him reacting every single fucking time.

If I was truly Dark, I’d just snatch some Boy-Who-Lived fangirl every time that happened and screwed her brains out. Too bad that’s not an option. Even if Obliviate is such a handy spell. He sighed, casting a weak cooling charm in the direction of his groin. It worked – sometimes.

The bell rang and he got up dejectedly, wondering if McGonagall would again do theory. Maybe it was a good thing his brain power had suddenly upped since he got distracted by people’s emotions during lessons. He’d gained more insight on gossip in the past week than he’d altogether on his previous Hogwarts years. Speaking of that, the librarian was just as dry on the inside as she was on the outside.

Harry walked into the hallway and was immediately pressed by emotions from all sides.

He nearly stepped back into the library, to the relative safety it offered. He was grateful he could only pick on strong emotions through walls and stone but his ability could tone itself down a bit even in open spaces. He really didn’t want to feel some of the things his fellow students were unknowingly projecting at him. By the beautiful Cliodna, Greengrass was just coming from a quickie! Harry quickly scrambled as deep into his mind as he could and threw his pitiful shields all around him. Occlumency was one thing he was definitely going to master, with or without Snape. Probably without. as he didn’t know if it would even help.

Harry took his seat on the last row. Some of the things he felt honestly made him want to speak up, but who was he to interfere? Everyone had their preferences and, as he’d learned last year, the world wasn’t all black and white. Slytherins were just as scared as Gryffindors, if only for different reasons. And every teen had the universal problems of teens, no matter which House they’d been sorted in six years ago.

The young wizard licked his lips. McGonagall was starting the lesson and unsurprisingly she was again completely focused on teaching and in control of her feelings. Harry had learned in the time since his birthday that most people changed all the time. He could be talking to Regan about work and she’d suddenly project strong feelings of lust. And a mere thought of what might make her do so had had Harry flushing. He really shouldn’t be thinking about that in here.

When McGonagall declared they’d only start practical exercises next lesson and for now continue with theoretical recapitulation, Harry gave a silent cheer. As the lesson proceeded he wasn’t really even focusing on the theory, instead making plans for tonight. He needed to slip into the Forbidden Forest and then to the Potions storeroom to steal what he couldn’t find. That would be dangerous because getting caught was not an option. Which meant he'd be facing another sleepless night.

The young man rubbed his eyes as the exhaustion threatened to take over him. He didn’t know if it was the heritage or what – what else could it really be? – but for the past month he hadn’t been able to sleep for more than five hours at most per night and sunrise always made him sleepy. Then again he felt revitalised during noon. His body was going through something he had no understanding of and he sincerely hoped there was someone he could talk to, someone who could have answers. No such luck, not after last year. He couldn’t even write to Regan in fear of the letter being intercepted and it seemed he just wouldn’t get a break. He now laughed at his naivety in his younger age when he’d wanted to be just Harry. There was hardly anything just about him anymore.

“Mr. Potter!”

Harry abruptly snapped out of his thoughts a silent Stupefy already forming on the tip of his wand, ready to be released. Everyone stared at him and he let go of the magic under his Transfiguration teacher’s chilling glare. He offered McGonagall a meek smile. “You surprised me, Professor. Sorry for not paying attention.”

“Ten points from Gryffindor.” Weird, she didn’t feel upset but oddly... proud? “Now, as I was asking, why is it easier to animate objects versus inanimating living creatures?”

“Because, even if the animal is not on the intellectual level of a human it still has a freedom of will. It is more difficult to force it to take a form because the spell has to override the free will as well as perform the transfiguration.” He shrugged. “With objects it’s easier because the spell only has to perform the change. Of course that changes if the object has been soaked in magic. In that case the spell would also have to nullify the already existing magic.” Harry shut up because he realized everyone was still staring at him and he could feel their amazement and distrust bombarding him from every direction. What did he... Damn. Here he thought he’d be in trouble when the practicals started and then he went and opened his big mouth. Was he an idiot?

“Very good, Mr. Potter.” She continued with her lecture but everyone kept stealing glances at Harry. He stubbornly stared at the board, not taking notes but at least no one could allege he did not pay attention. He was keeping the shields high and making more plans, this time on the schedule on learning Occlumency.

Harry knew McGonagall was considering asking him to stay after class and he slid away as soon as the bell rang. Thank Circe he did not have any other subjects today or he’d go crazy. He found himself staring at the jugulars of people and forced his instincts back. The first taste from Regan had been oh so delicious and he was craving for another taste. The mouse had not helped.

The wizard nearly ran into the common room and up the stairs. He emptied his bag and filled it with empty vials and small glass flasks and jars. He paused and returned the Half-Blood Prince’s potions book in his jingling bag. Never knew if he happened upon something rare so he picked One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and added it as well. He’d just managed to fold the invisibility cloak beneath his robes without it looking like a lump on his stomach when he heard a familiar voice through the dorm door.

“-mean crazy! It was like he was channelling Hermione and-“ The door was pushed open but Ron wasn’t finished with his tirade, ”who knows, maybe he was!”

Dean and Seamus did not answer because they had noticed something the redhead obviously hadn’t: the topic of their conversation. Harry gathered his bag and left without a word though a vicious retaliation burned on his tongue. Maybe he should request private rooms? Better yet, ask them straight from Hogwarts herself? Too many knew about the Room of Requirement now and it’d be the first place they’d look for him at.

The young wizard threw the cloak over his shoulders as he made his way down to the ground floor. He soon had to stop and cast a noise dampener around his bag when the jingling turned heads. But no one took notice when he opened the Great Doors enough to slip through.

One just had to love invisibility cloaks. He did not even cast a shadow on the ground as the wizard made his way towards the Forbidden Forest. He was as silent as a ghost – though most of them could have eased off on the talking – and reached the edge of the forest without getting noticed by anyone.

At the border of the Forest Harry found himself hesitating. The wolf was again growling at him and demanding he shifted into his wolf form but he knew he’d then end up running around all night. That’s what had happened in the Forest of Dean when he’d gone there to practise. There was something primal and seductive about the nature when he gave in to his animal forms. He found his hands phasing as the desire grew but bit his lip and forced the transformation back. The wolf howled in rage and trashed around in his mind but Harry held strong.

Bloody animal. I’m not a monster! He thought viciously and silenced the wolf without mercy.

With renewed motivation and silent but sulking wolf at the back of his mind the young man slunk into the forest silently. It was still late afternoon and Harry found himself enjoying the silent atmosphere of the forest. He stopped to collect a couple of mundane plants’ roots that he could find some use for later but mostly kept going deeper into the forest at a steady pace. The trees grew bigger and sunlight was having more and more trouble filtering through the thick branches. Harry noticed that again his sight wasn’t affected by the lack of light the slightest but it was old news. He could already see perfectly – on a vampiric scale – without his glasses and kept the frames on his face merely as a part of the mask he wanted the world to view.

The wizard sighed and froze when he heard movement on his right. He was in the Forbidden Forest. He had enough chance of getting lost in the woods without adding getting lost in his own mind on top of it. His breath escaped in a loud puff when a blood-sucking bugbear traipsed from behind a thick tree trunk, sniffed the air and ran away without sparing even a glance at the invader.

That incident having passed, the wizard continued on his way, starting to feel more and more comfortable the deeper into the forest he travelled. He was aware he was already in the area of the Acromantula and that here he had no hope of relying on Light spells alone should trouble raise its ugly head. The Forbidden Forest was off limits for a good reason and getting this deep Harry was surely tempting fate. But he could not deny the excitement running through him as the wolf purred in contentment and his primal instincts told him there was nothing to fear. He could match anything that challenged him here.

Finally the wizard found himself what he was looking for: fluxweed. He made sure to collect it with the roots completely intact and smiled when the sweet scent of mint permeated the air. Most apothecaries sold dried fluxweed roots and leaves but it lost most of its potency in the drying process. Harry shuddered as more information on fluxweed poured into his mind. He had never read about this but still he knew.

Harry had luck on his side. He ran into a doxy colony and was able to steal a couple of their eggs only to stumble upon a hummock of hellebore. But that was the easiest part, the wizard sighed as he started on his way back to the castle. The sun was setting and he knew he’d be lucky to make it back before curfew, especially if he was going to attempt obtaining the most difficult of the ingredients.

Blood of a hellhound.

Harry halted in his steps when the castle came into view, the inviting warm light twinkling from the hundreds of windows. He narrowed his eyes that after such a long time in the dark found the weak lights of the distant castle annoyingly bright. There wolf was dissatisfied at having to yet again abandon its natural habitat in favour of the castle and had no qualms about expressing it opinion. Harry was pretty sure the current whining could be interpreted as near begging in English.

He murmured silently and grudgingly the wolf settled at the back of his mind. The wizard sighed in relief, not having to fight another fight in his own mind. It was a relief the vampire only raised its head when it was thirsty or he was angry. Thank Morgana he’d managed to keep his empathy induced horniness separated from the bloodlust. There would be hell to pay. And speaking of hell...

Harry looked up to the growing moon and had to admit he was not up for a summoning tonight. He definitely was not ready to control fully grown hellhounds that his magic seemed to attract. Last time he’d only succeeded because of the extra layering on the circles and those he’d carved in stone. He might have gotten stronger but not strong enough to become careless and arrogant. And transforming into new forms always took some getting used to. So far he’d only tried the more peaceful animals.

So tomorrow night, he decided as the young man finally exited the forest, still hidden from sight by his cloak. Harry briefly pondered if he should then check Slughorn’s collection of ingredients already tonight. He still needed the more exotic plants and especially blood of a hag. He had no hope of finding those on his own and no time to find reliable suppliers on the black market. But he decided against it. There’d surely be wards and he needed a distraction to keep Slughorn busy. Maybe he could somehow annoy Malfoy...

So, planning it was.

oooOOOooo

...eight, nine, TEN!

KA-BOOM!

The following explosion was so powerful it sent every single student in the dungeon classroom flying. More cauldrons were knocked over and smaller explosions followed causing someone to scream and Slughorn to yell for everyone to take cover. Harry smirked under his cloak and slipped into the teacher’s office without any of the Claws or Puffs noticing. For someone to spot the slight stirring of the air as he passed by would have been truly incredible as most of the class was lying unconscious on the stone floor and the rest were too busy evading the new explosions.

He gave himself a well deserved pat on the back for a successful execution.

In Slughorn’s office Harry went straight to the cupboard and disabled the wards with a swish of his wand. The protections were pretty pathetic for someone of his level, and to think that he’d been worried about them.

Then again the only ones strong enough to challenge him were Dumbledore and Snape and the former he’d gladly kill if given chance.

The wizard was careful when searching for the right vials. The Potions teacher’s handwriting would have been hard to decipher in good lighting and there was only one torch burning in the office. Harry knew he had to hurry and finally when the noise level was starting to rise again as a result of enervated students he Accioed the correct vials and jars, re-established the wards and got out of the office and the class room as quickly as he could.

He nearly ran right into Malfoy but skipped into an empty classroom just in time to avoid him and Blaise Zabini. Apparently there had been some sort of problem in Ancient Runes and Zabini had sliced his hand with a carving knife, or so he deduced from Malfoy’s rantings.

“Honestly, this is the last time I’m taking care of you. Why couldn’t you go to the Infirmary on your own? You were the one stupid enough to be staring at something else besides your project!”

The hiding wizard felt his mouth water at the whiff of the intoxicating scent and his fangs slid out. He heard the silent sigh Zabini let out that sounded so defeated and nearly sprung out of his hiding place with the smell wafting in the air around him.

Swallowing uneasily, he decided he better stay put for an additional ten minutes to be sure the boys had reached the safety of Hospital Wing or he might have simply gone after them. One sharp canine pierced his lip and he sucked on his own blood until his enhanced healing closed the wound.

This is so fucking worrying, Harry thought when he finally reached one of the unused teachers’ quarters he’d commandeered for his own use. The entire place was so heavily warded even spiders and flies tripped on his protections. No one would be able to break in without him knowing and the objects would automatically be sent to the Chamber of Secrets should someone even try. He laid the ingredients on the table and checked on the blood he’d acquired last night. The potion would have to be started today.

As he readied a cauldron – golden – the young man pondered on the vampire’s sudden bloodlust. On his bloodlust. If he kept going on this rate soon he’d be baring his fangs even when someone blushed. How on earth was he supposed to continue his schooling in Hogwarts if he put everyone around him in mortal danger? Not to mention the full moon that he was already spending in isolation and had to pray no one wandered near him. Shit, his life was a joke.

He prepared the base in three hours and left the quarters satisfied with his work. There were very few people around as it was time for dinner and he contemplated joining his peers in the Great Hall but eventually opted on fetching his food straight from the kitchen. Last year had ended so abruptly that he hadn’t had a chance to understand the ramifications of a rift appearing between himself and the other Gryffindors but now it was painfully obvious. At the House Table he’d sit and eat alone, no one approached him and if they did it was for a grave reason. Slytherins kept throwing looks at him that clearly said they didn’t know what to think, Ravenclaws obviously were dying to find out what kind of magic he’d uncovered and Hufflepuffs saw him as a traitor for turning from extreme Light to a shadier path.

This left a very uncomfortable atmosphere that he was more than happy to avoid any time he could. Not to mention his empathy made sure he could feel all that resentment mixed with sort of worship towards him and in the Great Hall there was nothing to block his ability. It mattered little he’d weakened Voldemort when everyone for two hours had believed him completely dead.

And as Wizarding world always did, they blamed the messenger who told them he’d only turned Moldyvoldy into a mortal. Old anger burned in his chest as he remembered those few seconds in battle when he’d had the chance to end it once and for all and he’d been stopped. Light. What good was it for if he didn’t win? He could have stayed on the already laid-out path and become a figurehead for Light, but who knows how few years they then would have been able to survive. But no, he was now his own man.

His own creature, more precisely.

Harry chuckled quietly at the dry joke and directed his steps to kitchen where a battalion of house elves was quite happy to give him a basket of food. He thanked them and, overjoyed, the elves seemed on fall on their knees in their gratitude. He heaved a sigh when he was finally able to leave and make his way to the quarters he’d taken over. At least the potion was on its way and he’d acquired everything he needed. Now just to avoid attention for the next six days and everything would be just peachy. If he could only not land in detention for skipping lessons...

But who was there to stop him from skipping his detention as well should he end up in one? No one held that kind of power over him anymore. Even when he’d been younger there had been no one to report his accidents and progress to. Petunia did not care, Vernon even less. Mrs Weasley had been his mother figure but he had changed. Lupin... not. Harry winced at the memory of his deceased godfather and knew should Sirius have lived the he would have never turned to this path, would have never started to fight on his own terms. If something good had come out of Sirius’ death it had been Harry’s determination to fight and to fight on his own terms.

But the point being, he was an orphan. He was responsible for himself and as he’d made clear what he thought about his previous role models there was no one to control him anymore. The wolf yipped in excitement as the concept of his freedom was realized for the first time. He was alone and responsible only for himself.

Harry had to stop and just breathe for a while as the new thought asserted itself. There were no moral rules for him to drawn upon, no one to truly frown upon his behaviour. No one currently alive had earned the right to judge his behaviour. Hell, he could have been banging Potter fangirls every time his empathy picked up on the feelings of lust. He trusted only himself to be the judge. It was kind of stupid that he only now realized this with everything he’d been up to in the summer. He’d known he was alone and responsible for himself but now that people were clearly cutting him off...

The wizard shook his head and continued on his way. He was still who he was and he would have to set some rules. While he had gone pretty crazy during summer it didn’t mean there wasn’t anything restricting him. He wasn’t going to turn Dark, and it’d only make matters worse for him if the papers caught onto his doings. That was why he’d only chosen muggles this summer. The only magical witch – or wizard for that matter – he’d even kissed had been Cho and that was his worst memory of kissing. Damn, the girl needed help.

But he was in no definition any longer a virgin. Oh, the Prophet would have a field day if they ever found out about that. Harry shuddered and was extra glad he’d taken to obliviating his partners afterwards. Though he hadn’t touched anyone after his birthday with the changes because it posed too great of a risk. He had been too apprehensive about the incident with Regan to try his luck and this abstinence was starting to grate on him. He could hardly even enjoy wanking with the empathy forcing him to resort to it.

Should I get a girlfriend? he pondered while eating the chicken sandwich. The bread tasted weird but the chicken was good. Might solve some problems. But she’d surely be interviewed and I don’t know anyone who’d keep their mouth shut without additional persuasion and even then someone might notice. Dumbledore is sure to check anyone I get close to... Damn the old man. Should have let him die with that curse but no, had to be the ever noble Gryffindor even then.

He sneered at himself but shook the unpleasant thoughts away. It was done and he could hardly go back on it anymore. Damn it all to hell. It was times like these when everything seemed to be against him that he wondered if letting himself be placed in Slytherin would have changed things much. Especially now that he was more cunning than brave and being honourable held no special appeal for him. But he could take comfort in the idea that he was actually more Slytherin than all the rest as he had managed to keep his Slytherin self hidden for six years and no one was the wiser.

Harry glanced at the steadily fuming potion and turned to his bookbag. With a sigh the wizard started on his homework without once checking answers from his books. It crossed his mind that this could be classified as cheating as he had some sort of access to the memories and skills of thousands of dead people. This certainly was one of his biggest secrets and he could not let anyone find out about the knowledge he’d gained by channelling the spirits of the dead. Fortunately the dead had assured only someone equally Dark and Light could follow the same path and that he would be notified if anyone ever thought of following in his footsteps.

It was nearing midnight when Harry finally forced himself to return to the tower. He had done all the homework for all his five NEWT subjects and out of curiosity leafed through first two books on Ancient Runes. He wanted to update the wards around Grimmauld Place on Christmas. Now that Regan had moved in he’d had to insert exceptions in the wards. Regan had the power to include others in the wards and Harry did not even want to think about how difficult that had been to do. It posed a serious safety risk but the Muggle also carried a Portkey capable of bringing her to Harry so that no wizard could harm her and Kreacher was under standing orders to put the house into lockdown should need arise.

Bunking with the Boy-Who-Lived could become hazardous to one’s health quickly and Harry wasn’t going to risk Regan’s life.

It being Wednesday night the Astronomy classes were being held for first years. Therefore just as Harry had taken his seat in front of the fire eighteen new Gryffindor firsties erupted into the common room. Luckily the late hour was affecting them and they weren’t as excited as they normally would have been. Harry turned his eyes back to the book and resumed his reading on warding.

He did hear the lull in conversation when the eleven year olds noticed him but outwardly showed no interest in them. He still felt their feelings. Awe, suspicion, apprehension, confusion... If their feelings were anything to go by the firsties clearly did not know what to think of him. Harry could imagine their parents telling them stories, then hearing the rumours at Hogwarts and finally seeing him for themselves would spin anyone’s head. He was still surprised when one of them was brave enough to speak to him.

“Umh... Sorry? Sir?”

He glanced up from his book to see a boy with sand coloured hair and piercing blue eyes looking at him. He blushed as soon as Harry met his curious gaze and looked down. The adolescent wizard hid his smirk when he realized the boy was silently counting and only at number ten had gathered enough courage to look back up.

“Can I have your autograph?”

Harry stared gobsmacked and the boy looked down and seemed to shrink even more.

“I don’t...“ Harry began but let the words die when he caught on the hopeful feelings from at least half the people. He cleared his throat and set the book aside. “I don’t normally give out autographs.” He watched the little witches and wizards deflate. The boy clearly wasn’t the only one wishing for a name on a paper. “But I can make an exception if you promise me you won’t go showing them around and bragging about them.” He smiled. “Those that have heard of the Weasley twins can tell the others that when it comes to pranking I might even top those two.”

He saw three or four students shudder and gave no further warnings knowing the message had been received. He flicked his wand and parchment, quill and ink flew from his bag. He raised his brow at the staring first years. “You all want one?” Suddenly he was surrounded by exited eleven year olds and the autographs were quickly distributed evenly. Finally everyone was staring at a piece of paper like it was their greatest treasure. Harry only barely held himself from grimacing in disgust.

He bit on his tongue to prevent himself from going into tirade mode and giving the children an impromptu prep talk. Some of the youngest students were already asleep on their feet. “Now, to bed. Get going. And remember what I said about those autographs.”

The little witches and wizards filed up the stairs and Harry was left alone with the crackling fire. He hoped the Hat hadn’t again placed a true Slytherin into a wrong house and briefly entertained the idea of how different the world might have been had he not met Malfoy before sorting. Or heard Hagrid badmouth the snakes.

“You think you’re really something don’t you?”

Harry stiffened. Ron was standing on the stairs and was far enough for Harry to not have heard or felt him especially when distracted. The brunette slowly turned to face the redhead and while watching Ron in his carrot coloured hair he was wholeheartedly glad his highlights were of a much darker shade of red. Then he had to wonder how he could think about appearances in a situation like this but after seeing Ron’s expression he had to wonder if they had ever even been friends and the quilt evaporated.

“Stay away from them! They’re too young to know what a freak you are!”

Harry winced. He really couldn’t stop it after hearing the same rant from his uncle for years. Ron had no idea how much he was hurting Harry and the Boy-Who-Lived only wished he could just come clean and trust that Ron would understand. But he knew it was a fool’s hope. Not one of his former friends could begin to understand the rites he’d gone through to get a chance against Voldemort. They would not understand his contempt for Dumbledore nor his thirst for independence. With not a little shock Harry realized he only counted Regan as a close friend and everyone else was more of an acquaintance. And of course there was Hedwig.

“-you’re Dark now and I wish we could just kick you out of here for good but McGonagall won’t allow it. Don’t know what you’ve done to her either. And you know Hermione cried for days in the summer because of that Howler you sent her! Are you even listening to me!?”

Harry looked at Ron, his former best friend, and felt no remorse of what he was about to do. “I grew up. And Granger can go stick her nose in someone else’s business. I’ve had enough of her. And frankly, I’ve had enough of just about everyone. Just leave me alone this year and I’ll do the same.”

Weasley was about to retort but Harry grabbed his bag and was out of the room before the other boy could spell “quidditch”.

Fifteen minutes and couple of transfigurations later he was laying on a makeshift bed in his teacher’s quarters. The potion was bubbling in the background and he let the castle’s underlying emotions lull him towards sleep. The wizard started to hum silently and let the humming calm the raging wolf inside him. It was decidedly more vocal in its anger than the vampire but the vampire was definitely more forceful. Harry remembered the incident earlier today and the mere memory stirred the bloodlust and brought out ideas on how giving Weasley payback for those comments could be doubly beneficial.

...He needed to find a way to control his instincts.

Harry shifted to a better position keeping his wand beneath his pillow and sighed, finally stopping the fight against sleep. Ten seconds later only steady breathing and bubbling of the potion could be heard in the room.

The morning sun aroused Harry far too soon and he hissed and rolled away from the light. He felt sluggish and his face itched where the light had touched his skin. He waved his wand muttering the incantation for the mirror spell under his breath and soon saw in his image that his skin looked red and irritated on top of itching. His fangs had slid out and that his normally green eyes sprouted a blood red circle around the pupil.

As he watched his skin calmed and a little concentration had his fangs shorten and red disappear from his eyes. But he was worried. In all the books about vampires he’d read – and Grimmauld Place had a number of those to choose from – assuming the true form only happened when the vampire willed it or at the smell of blood but even that could be resisted. Only starving vampires lost control like he just did.

“Just bloody great,” Harry whispered letting the mirror disappear. He was starving from the lack of blood. And he couldn’t very well ask it from the kitchens because Dumbledore might found out. This meant going into the Forbidden Forest and hunting. If he even could quench the thirst with animal blood.

“Fuck.”

The wizard got up and stretched languidly, pushing the problem out of his mind for the moment. It was Thursday morning and Harry’s only full day. He had Charms, DADA and Potions all today, Potions being a double in the afternoon. He glanced at the potion and did quick calculations. He would end up late for potions but at least his own experiment was coming along great. He strode to the table and went through all the ingredients. The only thing missing was his own blood drawn from the heart. It was the last thing to add, the last ingredient to complete the potion. Now he only slowly scattered the dried hellebore evenly on the surface before stirring twelve times clockwise. The next step would have to be taken in six hours.

Harry slung his bag over his left shoulder and left for breakfast, yawning on the way. He was the first in the Great Hall and took his place in the middle of the table. Only five minutes later eggs, porridge, sandwiches, bacon and all kinds of other breakfast foods appeared in front of him. He loaded his plate and tucked in, intent on ignoring the slight burning of his throat and the tastelessness of the food. He was not going to give in and let the creatures rule his life.

The morning went on in a haze. He stayed quiet in Charms and in DADA he let Snape’s spiteful comments roll off his skin like water. It was interesting insight to know the man was more amused than annoyed in the class. He was an excellent actor but the knowledge Harry gained reading his emotions led the young man to doubt the usefulness of learning Occlumency. He knew it could help somewhat as his pitiful shields could at least protect him from the sharpest emotional peaks of his peers. But did it make a difference that he was actively concentrating on the emotions instead of thoughts? Could Snape block him if the man knew what to block? Harry stared at his teacher and unconsciously licked his lip.

He zoned back to the present as his empathy registered shock in Snape. Harry realized that he had been staring absently at the man’s jugular and that his lip was once again in danger of being pierced by a sharpening fang. He cussed profoundly in the confines of his mind and did not even try to stop the wolf from growling.

“Mister Potter will stay.” Harry froze at the command and cursed himself seven times to hell when the bell rang three seconds later. He hadn’t even made it two weeks without someone finding out. He slowly packed his book away while the other NEWT qualified students filed out. He was left alone in the classroom and stared hard at the chalkboard ready to blame it for everything that was going wrong in his life.

“Do you find yourself to be so important you need not pay attention in class?” Snape slashed out and Harry carefully blanked his face and raised his shields.

“No.”

“No, sir.”

Harry stayed quiet and kept his eyes on the board, ignoring Snape’s correction. He would not allow Snape to take a peek in his mind and the man had done nothing to earn his respect. He might have been a spy but he also knew what Dumbledore had done and was still loyal. And the young man knew he could learn ten times faster on his own than he did in class and this knowledge did nothing to raise his respect for the professor.

He was so intent on ignoring Snape that his only warning of spellfire was the brief concentration he felt from the Potions Master before the young wizard was forced to take cover under the table. He let out a low growl but had little to no choice but to keep dodging as the spells flew in his direction. His wand was in his hand but he knew Snape could break through any shield he produced. Should he retaliate the man would get him expelled.

It was only more proof of his Slytherin tendencies than he could consider this under heavy spellfire.

Harry was nicked by a spell that sent him barrelling into a table and as he rose the world slowed down and calmness took over his mind and body. Every movement the attacker made was pronounced, the swishes of the wand amplified. Smoothly he walked towards the man tasting the sudden fear in the air and bared his teeth in anticipation of the meal he was about to be served. The puny wizard was getting desperate but the vampire hardly noticed as the spells wheeled past him by tenths of an inch. He ducked under a red spell catching hold of the wrists of the attacker but ignored the quick drumming of the pulse beneath his fingers concentrating instead on the thumbing on the man’s jugular. The human’s strength was nothing against him and the sweet scent of fear was so delicious. The vampire closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He drew the man closer and felt him shiver against him, meaningless words shouted pleadingly in his ear. The meal’s words did not matter. Only blood was important and while the vampire was shorter than the wizard, he was tall enough to reach his neck and that was just what he did.

Slowly, savouring the moment, the vampire sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, piercing the artery and flooding his mouth with the incredible taste of magic and blood. He moaned in appreciation before latching on and sucking deep. Their bodies rubbed against each other and the vampire moaned yet again both from the amazing taste attacking his taste buds and the sensation created by the friction. The blood flowed down his throat, rich and velvety, taking the earlier burning away. Energy washed over him and with it the taste seemed to be getting even better if that was possible. The vampire moaned for the third time and sucked deeper, intent on savouring every single drop of this amazing taste. Somewhere far away the wolf was yipping in excitement...

...wolf? What wolf?

Reality crashed into existence around him and Harry drew back in horror of what he’d done. Snape had closed his eyes and was breathing shallowly in his unconsciousness but at least the man was breathing. Blood was still flowing freely from the two circular wounds on the man’s neck and the young man leaned forward – less reluctantly than he would have thought before – lapping the blood away and lavished the wounds. As he drew away the two pinkish scars were already fading away and only the weak state of the man was evidence of the occurrence. The young wizard felt sick to his stomach of what he’d done but he couldn’t deny the effect it was having on him. He was turned on from sucking blood from Snape. He swallowed and forced the bile down his throat and cast a cooling charm on his groin. His enhanced sense of smell told him that Snape was in a similar state but Harry pushed the suggestions far into the deepest corners of his mind, slammed the door shut and threw away the key.

It didn’t make the smell go away.

His body thrumming with newly gained energy Harry lifted Snape on his arms and made his way to the professor’s office. It was very bare, only holding the essential equipment for DADA teacher, and he growled in annoyance. Holding Snape entire weight on one arm however proved to be no task at all and he managed to transfigure a book into a bed and lay the man down. Then he backed away and sat in the corner wondering what he should do and fighting the nausea that was threatening to overcome him.

Ten minutes later Harry still hadn’t come up with anything solid. He only knew for certain that the blood heritage detection potion needed to be tended to in thirty minutes or it could explode and that Snape could not be allowed to talk. He did not dare to ennervate the man when it was a physical reason he’d lost his consciousness for, and the young man refused to feel responsible for this. The wizard was all to blame for attacking him without asking first. Letting the wolf take over he growled long and deep.

With a huff the Boy-Who-Lived stood up and moved to the man’s desk. Snape had double sixth years next. Little rummaging produced the man’s curriculum and Harry read it until he figured today’s agenda had been spell practice but that was definitely out of question now.

He skipped into the class room and wrote directions on the board for reading and an essay and even some Snapish comments. He even managed to make it look like Snape’s handwriting. Returning to the office he covered the passed out git with his invisibility cloak and levitated the man. The bed disappeared just as he directed Snape through the room and he made sure to put it right how he found it. It wouldn’t do to raise anyone’s suspicions.

Harry nearly had a heart attack three times on his way to his quarters. Once as Filch ran past him and twice as students nearly hit Snape. When they eventually reached the safety of his rooms Harry could only sigh in relief. He gently laid Snape on his bed and turned to check on his potion. It was deep crimson red, not quite the colour of blood but almost. Just perfect. He was pouring the hellhound blood into then potion as a thin ribbon while stirring at the same time when a groan announced Snape was awake. Not losing count Harry spoke, “Your wand is in your right pocket and do not hex me if you do not want us both to die. I’m in the process of adding hellhound blood and you know it could contaminate us both should anything disturb it.”

He only heard shuffling of robes and was glad Snape had heeded the warning. The bell rang but it wasn’t until five minutes after that Harry let the final drop scatter on the surface and the potion turned blacker than any night. He put the rod and bottle on the table and stepped back. Turning his head towards Snape he saw the man watching his every movement like a hawk and slowly backed to the furthest wall from the suspicious git.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at, Potter?” Snape bit out through clenched teeth. Harry noticed his left hand was clutching his throat and that the right was shaking as the man pointed a wand at him.

“I should ask the same,” replied Harry quietly. He read the emotions running frantic in the man. “You suspected and still you attacked. You attacked a starving vampire. You should know how fortunate you are to still be alive.” He let the man process it. “I still got quite a bit so I recommend a heavy diet for the next couple of days as well as blood replenishing and nutrient potions.”

“How long have you been a vampire, Potter?” the man asked somewhat civilly and lowered his arm to rest it on his knee, the wand still pointed at Harry.

“Since my birthday.” Harry considered. “I wasn’t aware I needed blood since it was hereditary. I only came to that conclusion this morning when the sun burned my skin and I turned into my vampiric form without consciously willing it. I was going to take care of the feeding this evening but then someone sent me flying into the table and the hit affected my control.” He glared at the man and saw the knuckles turn white as the he clutched his wand.

“Do not expect an apology.” Snape had the audacity to sneer on top of that.

“Certainly not. But I did place you under a secrecy spell that ensures you cannot share this knowledge with anyone else.”

The man froze and half-closed his eyes, apparently checking for such a spell. His forehead wrinkled and Harry smirked inwardly. He had used both vampire glamouring and magical means to ensure the man’s silence. Snape could go insane if the block was removed without both vampiric and magical assistance and with what had just happened it was doubtful the man would willingly go anywhere near a vampire in the future.

“Where have you brought me?”

“These are unused teacher’s quarters that I commandeered for my usage. That,” Harry pointed at the bubbling potion in anticipation of one of the questions, “is a project to find out what exactly happened to me on my birthday.”

“You woke up a vampire?” There was no trace of hesitance in the spoken words but Harry could feel it through his empathy. Once he might have enjoyed having Snape at his mercy but there was nothing enjoyable about this situation. He was not a sadist and Snape was terrified even if he showed no sign of it outwardly. The man might have been calmly discussing a potential abduction and taking in his surroundings and Harry would not have known anything of his inner thinkings had it not been for his empathy.

“Among other things,” replied the adolescent wizard and tightened his jaw when he realized the mistake. Damn, he needed to be more careful. Just like in Transfiguration class: if he let his mouth run who knew what kind of things would come out. But Snape was under a secrecy spell...

“Anyway, I put your next class to read three chapters from the book and write three feet on utilising everyday spells and charms in battle and warned that those not capable of using understandable writing would be automatically marked zero. So your next class is taken care of.” The man’s expression was unreadable so Harry decided to ask what he’d been dying to know for over four months even if he wouldn’t get an answer. “How do you stand it?”

“Stand what?” Confusion. Snape had no idea what he was referring to.

“Dumbledore. How do you stand to work for him after what he did? You could have been free.”

Snape was silent and Harry deemed it safe enough to return to the potion while the man was still docile. He cleared the table of used ingredients and arranged everything ready for the next step. The potion looked like boiling oil and Harry was careful not to breathe in any of the fumes rising from the cauldron. He spelled the window open to let the air change knowing his wards would keep anything unwanted away. It was difficult to keep his motions slow as his heart was thrumming with life and magic gained from all the blood he’d consumed.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor for unsupervised brewing, attack on a teacher and general rule breaking.”

“Finally. I thought you’d forgotten,” Harry snipped lightly without taking his attention off the potion.

“Ten points for the cheek.” Snape was attempting to stand and after five long minutes he managed. Harry could have helped but he suspected Snape wanted him to stay far away. He made himself busy rummaging through his bag and arranging his belongings around the place. But when Snape gave out the next order he dropped the act of ignoring the man and turned his eyes on the shakily standing Potions Master.

“No. I am not leaving. Apparently I am not welcome in the tower because I’m too Dark and am going to attack everyone in their sleep.” He licked his lip. “Weasley told me in non-negotiable terms that I wasn’t welcome and since it’s all the same to me I moved here.”

“The rules must be followed. Deten-“

“It isn’t safe. Imagine the redhead actually follows through his threat and they band on me and surprise me in my sleep.” Harry shivered. “I could accidentally slaughter the entire year class of male Gryffindors – and while you might find it favourable others would disapprove. As you might have gathered from my slip I am far more dangerous than your average vampire. I don’t just suck blood and if you couldn’t handle me with surprise on your side and me in a weakened state, do you honestly think any of them can?” He shook his head. “No one needs to know I’m staying here. The place is warded and it is doubtful anyone gets in or even finds this place. Besides, the secrecy spell ensures you cannot speak of this to anyone, including allowing Albus to read your mind or showing a memory to him or anyone else. I am not harming anyone by staying here and I certainly am not doing this out of arrogance.”

Harry didn’t even realize he was doing it but somehow he ended up spilling his guts to his most hated professor. “I hate it all. I hate the looks and the suspicion and the fame. I wish I could have just killed the bastard and delivered the good news but no, he got away. And now everyone is acting like the war is over when he’s still out there and I’m jumping at the shadows, scared of what I might do or what might be done to me if someone finds out what I am. I can’t talk to any of my friends because I turned my back on them in order to protect them, and I know they’d hate me for all that I’ve had to do.” He sighed in defeat. “I probably shouldn’t have even stayed but left for US or something. I did my part in fighting Riddle, even more than my part, but when he rises for the third time all the sheep of the Wizarding world are going to turn to me once again and expect me to save them. They do not train but live in their bubble that they trust I will help to preserve.” Harry let out a growl and Snape blanched at the sound that even Harry could identify with one of Lupin’s angered noises. Shit. Now would be a good time to shut up.

“Potter, are you also a werewolf?” The terror the man was feeling had just doubled.

Harry laughed bitterly and flopped down on the ground. He realized what was going on but did nothing to stop it. The shock of Ron’s reaction and shunning was finally surfacing. “Among other things. I think the vampire allows me to retain my mind and the transformation affects me only on one night. But I can’t resume human form until the sun rises. It’s still there, all the time. The vampire only rises if attacked or with hunger.” His voice lowered to near whisper. “But the wolf is there all the time, offering suggestions, rumbling and grumbling. It doesn’t like the castle and the cooked food. It wants to leave, to run free, and unlike every other wolf I could do it. I could let the transformation wash over me right now and be gone in seconds. We could run free and howl at the sun and the moon and the stars...” The young man shuddered and silenced the wolf in his mind.

Snape was watching him. Just that. Watching him. They stared at each other and Harry fought off the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. He’d deal with the feeding memories later and he had no reason to be embarrassed about his outburst. Regan had her own life and as a Muggle she simply couldn’t understand. For over month he’d been building up the emotions inside of him and it did not help to be in a hostile environment. The talk with Ron had just brought it all out and unlike two years ago he now had no friends to listen him ranting. Empty room could only satisfy his anger so much.

“The full moon is in-“

“Five nights. I know. I plan on barricading myself in the dungeons. Even if I keep my mind I’m not going to risk it when there are four hundred children around.”

The Potions Master seemed to be hesitating. A rare occurrence in itself. “Lupin-“

“Is busy with Tonks and trusts Dumbledore implicitly. Hell, the man left me at the Dursleys after all the stories Lily had told of her sister only because Dumbledore asked him!” Harry shook his head sadly and sighed. “I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone these days and you’re only hearing this because you can’t break through the spell without going insane in the process.” He turned his burning eyes on Snape and glared, causing the man to flinch before his anger. “Is my life truly the glorious adventure you always thought?”

Now the man truly flinched and Harry caught remorse in the jumble of feelings the man was experiencing. He might have wanted to know what it was about but he was emotionally tired and just couldn’t bring himself to care. “Please leave. And remember the potions.”

The look Snape shot him was considering but with the given opportunity the man turned and stalked away, his walking affected by the fatigue he too was obviously experiencing. Harry found it weird he hadn’t tried to press on for details about the potion but really was too tired to think more about it. With a sigh he settled down and let the castle’s presence surround and calm him.

oooOOOooo

It was Saturday night and Harry held his breath as he carefully measured three spoonfuls of his blood and added it into the potion. He rubbed his chest where it ached with the rune carved over his heart but the pain was insignificant. He watched as the potion sizzled and most of it seemed to evaporate. The wizard covered his eyes and backed away until the fumes had escaped through the window and it was safe to breathe again.

Carefully he took out a scroll and a brand new quill and cautiously walked to the table. The end result was thick liquid the colour of his eyes at the bottom of the golden cauldron and Harry dipped the quill in the potion before touching the tip on the top of the scroll. The quill shivered and the young man let go, letting the writing appear in brilliant green colour.

Recessive

Veela

Banshee

Genie

Merman

Goblin

Telepath

Giant

Dwarf

Nymph

Satyr

Unknown

Unknown

Dominant

Parselmouth

Shapeshifter

Vampire

Werewolf

Empath

Incubus

Siren

Amor

Dryad

Unknown

...

Harry ignored the recessive list at the moment and focused on the ones that would have a direct effect on him. Fine, Parselmouth – no surprise there – Shapeshifter, Vampire, Werewolf, Empath. All he’d already experienced. But it was the next five that brought a cold sweat on his brow. All four known were rare and there wasn’t much information about them that he’d found in his search of magical creatures. Incubi were so rare that they’d been thought to have died out until in the 50’s one had been caught in Italy. Of course the Italian Ministry of Magic executed the creature as soon as it had been examined.

Sirens Harry knew nothing about, same with Amors. Only what he’d learned in Muggle history lessons of Ancient Greece. Dryads were tree spirits, tied strongly to nature. Was that why he couldn’t wear anything synthetic anymore?

I think I need to do research. Room of Requirement should have all the available information, anything else I cannot reach at the moment. He swallowed and started cleaning the cauldron, the list open on the table. At least now I know why I’ve been singing and where the endurance came from. He froze in shock and then groaned in annoyance. If the vampire got aroused with Snape then what about the incubus that supposedly lived off sexual energy?

I am never going to be alone with Snape again, Harry vowed.

A/N: I know Snowy Owls don’t exactly hoot (looked it up in Wikipedia) but it’s one thing I’m not going to correct. Hedwig hoots.
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Many A Mind And Blood