1. Library
Heart pulsing maddeningly in his chest, fear swirling in his stomach, perspiration across his brow. Harry walks through the corridors, every step slow, heavy. The library looms impossibly close, prompting a nervous shudder to wrack his thin frame.
In a few moments, his life will change. His symptoms, if they can even be called that, have been getting worse. Just yesterday, he had been hunched over the toilet bowl, blood spewing from his lips. His chest had ached, felt as if all the blood there wanted out.
"Harry?" someone calls, undoubtedly noticing the paleness of his skin. "Are you okay?"
"Haha, yes," Harry says, forcing himself to smile. He gazes at them with faux warmth, his muscles forcibly relaxing. "Just feeling a little bit under the weather, is all."
"Okay," they say, returning his smile. "Feel better, yes?"
"Of course," Harry replies instantly. He waves at them, hoping that it's enough to ward off their suspicion, enough to prevent them from calling Ron and Hermione. Luckily, the student gives him a smile and scampers off, apparently satisfied. Harry sighs, relief flooding his veins. Turning on his heel, he continues his journey to the library, gulping when he finally arrives.
Trepidations dances in his stomach, relishing in every minute of painful agony it brings. Harry forces himself to push the doors open, the wood feeling heavy under his hands. He doesn't look up, fearful that onlookers would see the pure terror that paints his features. Rather, he makes his way to the creature section of the library, his gait slow, purposeful.
With a brief glance upwards, he pulls a book off the shelf, deliberately angling it so the title is obscured. Flipping through the pages, he allows himself to get ensnared, his body falling to the floor of its own accord.
Hours later, Harry finally stops reading, his mind painfully numb. Tears burn in his eyes, but they don't fall. A sense of irony fills his veins, and he just wants to die. On one, wretched page, the word, VAMPIRE, lurks.
Word Count: 347.