Sanguini never considered his life to be easy; quite the opposite in fact. Besides the assumptions made by other non-vampires and how being around anybody except other vampires left him feeling slightly lightheaded, the life was far from enjoyable.
He had to kill to survive. He had accepted that. He'd even come to push away the self-doubt and disgust that came with every time he fed, which allowed him to better enjoy the rush of satisfaction that came from sucking blood. Come to revel in the hunt of his prey, and the adrenaline that came with it. Sanguini had been clumsy on his first hunts, but his mother had been adamant that he become proficient, and by sixteen he could with ease catch rabbits and squirrels to eat. Four years later he had even chanced an encounter with a rather large wolf in Albania. But every time he fed, it would always linger in the back of his mind about how most wizards and magical creatures that were sentient were disgusted by his killing of animals. It didn't help that the only major paper in Britain had a tendency to call for the extermination of his species whenever their government flubbed something up and there wasn't much else to complain about.
That was, of course, illegal, to Sanguini's relief. But it couldn't stop the indignation that rose in the back of his throat every time it happened. Nor did it at all make him feel any better that 'Vampire Hunters' were held in high regard by many wizards. Sanguini shook his head, a small scowl decorating his gaunt face.
As he looked down at the sixteen year-old form that was Harry Potter, regret settled in his stomach. It had been a freak accident. Completely unintentional.
Sanguini knew, however, that it would never be seen that way. It would go down in the Daily Prophet as the time when the boy-who-lived had been viciously assaulted by a rogue, savage vampire who couldn't keep his instincts reigned in. Sanguini was also aware of how dangerous his life could be in the coming months. What with the Ministry at war with Voldemort and all, biting what was in essence their golden boy would surely have Sanguini at the least the target of would-be avengers of the boy, and at the worst (Sanguini shivered at the thought) have him thrown in Azkaban.
Running a pale hand through his hair, Sanguini recounted to himself what had happened before the inevitable interrogation with the Ministry officials - and Potter. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, had not only listened to Sanguini's explanation but had agreed with him that it had been an accident and that he would forgive it, only if Sanguini himself faced Potter when he woke up.
Professor Horace Slughorn, who to Sanguini seemed as able to down butterbeer and eat crystal-encrusted pineapples as he was able to brew potions, had decided to host a party for Christmas. He'd invited his friend, Eldred Worple, and Worple, in all his brilliance, had invited Sanguini. The vampire, who up to that point had had a fairly quiet life, accepted out of courtesy.
The party itself had been laboriously dull, and Worple had distracted Sanguini well enough with the food - which he had to admit was rather good - but as more and more people arrived, all Sanguini could smell was blood. A younger, less-controlled version of him might've been tempted, but Sanguini simply dismissed these rising urges with a mental effort and focused on the patsy's Worple kept handing him. Worple grasped his arm in an iron grip to keep him from moving; Sanguini didn't complain, but, eventually, Worple had gotten wrapped up in a conversation with a fellow former pupil of Slughorn's, and had let go of Sanguini's arm to hug them. And Sanguini, in a rare act of inattention, bumped into someone behind him. That person turned out to be Cormac McLaggen, who was a tad irritated because he had lost his date to the party in the crowd. He'd spun on his heel angrily, intending to step toward Sanguini, but lost his balance in the process. He fell toward Sanguini with a small howl of rage, and the vampire was just making space for another party-goer that was trying to slip past him, who he learned too late was actually Harry, when McLaggen crashed into him just as Harry was lined up with Sanguini.
After that, everything slowed for Sanguini; he remembered crashing into Harry's lanky form, and hearing a noise of surprise from the boy; he watched as Harry turned to face the sound McLaggen made, and surprise blossom in his eyes when he realized he was about to be the second piece of bread in a McLaggen-Sanguini sandwich. Worple turned away from his conversation with his friend to face the small bit of chaos that had developed, and stepped back in surprise when he saw Harry falling toward him. Then Sanguini felt something slam into his chest when Harry was mere inches from the ground. The vampire hissed, and as he was facing Harry and was pressed practically nose-to-nose by that point with the boy, when his mouth shut, it clamped down on the only thing it could find.
Harry's neck.
But not just Harry's neck, an artery in Harry's neck, and Sanguini felt blood spurt up from the artery and into his mouth before he gagged and his eyes bulged. The blood burned in his throat, like firewhiskey but in a much worse fashion. His eyes went wide, and he, Harry, and McLaggen crashed into the ground with a rather loud thump.
The party was silent for several moments, before Worple's friend laughed heartily at the rather comic display Sanguini, McLaggen and Harry had created. That laugh, seemingly, was infectious, and there was a raucous uproar from the party guests, that soon turned into loud, appreciative applause. McLaggen, thoroughly flustered, got up off Sanguini, and shoved his way through the crowd in search of a place of privacy. Sanguini, however, was horrified.
Harry had completely frozen underneath him; and Sanguini knew why. A vampire's bite was fast-acting on whoever was bitten. First they'd freeze, but still be able to think clearly. Within seconds however, the victim would go comatose as the bite's infection spread to the rest of their body. Sanguini recognized the first phase underway, and with wide eyes looked up at Worple. He looked back down at Sanguini with a bemused expression, an eyebrow arched in good-hearted question. Then Sanguini, who could put up with Harry's blood no longer, spat it out and onto the expensive carpet of Slughorn's office. Worple gasped, and Sanguini continued to gaze at him in identical horror. Then a member of the gaggle of girls that had followed Sanguini since the beginning of the party and who he had managed to shake off only a few scant moments earlier shouted in a high voice:
"H-he bit Harry! Harry Potter's been bitten by a vampire!" the party fell silent at the girl's shouting, and Sanguini, like Harry, was frozen. He felt panic rising in his throat, and jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He craned his neck upward, seeing Worple, worry obvious in his eyes.
"Up you go," he whispered to Sanguini in a brittle voice. "Before professor Slughorn gets here, come on." Worple hoisted Sanguini upward, with a considerable effort on his part, and dragged him away from Harry. Sanguini's eyes, in spite of themselves, found the boy; his glasses were set askew at an odd angle, and there was two distinct puncture wounds on his neck, which seemed paler than usual. In fact, every part of Harry Sanguini would see seemed paler. He gulped.
There was parting in the crowd, and Professor Slughorn emerged from the crowd, along with a sallow-faced, bat-looking man whose eyes immediately found the puncture wounds on Harry's neck and then Sanguini's. The vampire saw something flash in the man's eyes before his expression turned sour. Slughorn's eyes, however, focused solely on Harry's neck.
"Great scott!" he exclaimed, then turned to the bat-looking man. "Severus, I'm getting Dumbledore. Help Harry in the meantime, will you?" Snape nodded begrudgingly, and Sanguini saw a bushy-haired brunette push to the front of crowd, who looked down at Harry and covered her mouth with her hand. Slughorn pushed through the crowd and out of his office, whilst Snape dropped to a knee by Harry's side and took out his wand, and began murmuring with it pointed toward the puncture wounds in Harry's neck.
Sanguini shook his head.
To say that he'd been stressed at that time would have been an egregious understatement. He looked up as Hogwart's resident nurse, Madam Pomfrey, came rushing out of her office, shooting Sanguini an exasperated look on the way.
"First dementors, then dragons, and then a vampire…" she muttered under her breath as she placed a damp cloth on his forehead. "He should be waking up soon," Pomfrey said to Sanguini, who blinked.
"The sleeping draught I gave him should be wearing off any minute now." Sanguini swallowed the small lump that had formed in his throat and nodded. Madam Pomfrey cast him a sideways glance; Sanguini guessed she was expecting him to say something along the lines of 'That's good,' but the vampire honestly couldn't find it in him to say anything even remotely close to that. So Madam Pomfrey left in a slightly disappointed huff, but nonetheless left Sanguini alone with Harry again.
Sanguin sat there, next to Harry's cot, feeling uncertain. It had all been an accident, but would Harry believe him? Two years prior before Sanguini had seen the articles Rita Skeeter had written about the boy and his woes with his scar. He took the article with a grain of salt, but weren't the best rumors at least somewhat based in fact?
He was about to continue down this line of thought when Harry stirred. Sanguini jumped a tad as the boy groaned and shook his head, opening his eyes sluggishly. Harry struggled to sit up a few more times, but eventually he was able to support himself with his arms well enough. Sanguini reached over to the bedside table next to the boy's cot and handed his circular glasses to him. Harry took them with an unfocused 'Thanks' and put them on, seeing the near-ghostly visage of Sanguini. He frowned.
"Do I know you?" he asked, and Sanguini opened his mouth only to get cut off. "Wait. I recognize you. You're that vampire from Slughorn's party, right?" Sanguini nodded. For a moment Harry was silent, and then he flinched back.
"You bit me!" said Harry, and his hand ducked inside his robes for his wand, only to find that it was absent. "Where's my wand?" he demanded, and Sanguini, with some parts of himself screaming that giving a just-woken teenager a weapon was a seriously poor idea, he reached over to Harry's bedside table and picked up his wand, handing it to the boy. The moment Harry grasped it, Sanguini slipped one of his hands in the pocket he reserved for his wand, and for a second he thought he might have to use it, but then Harry lowered his.
"Y-you're just gonna give me my wand?" he asked, bewildered. Sanguini nodded, and held up his hands slowly.
"I want you to feel secure," he said, "I want to talk to you. Explain myself." Harry arched a discoloured eyebrow, frowning.
"You mean why you bit me?" Sanguini inclined his head.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter," he said, and Harry quickly interjected, telling him to call him Harry. "Yes, I apologize Harry." The boy-who-lived continued to frown for a moment as Sanguini continued to speak.
"I never had the intention to bite you," said Sanguini. "But when you kneed me in the chest I reacted on instinct." Harry bit his lower lip, nodding slowly.
"And when you stopped hissing my neck was right there." he stated, voice an odd calm. Sanguini nodded.
"I never meant to bite anyone; but whenever I'm around someone or something who isn't a vampire, I get a tad light-headed and-"
"And it only got worse as more guests arrived," Harry filled in. Sanguini blinked.
"Erm… yes. As the party wore on, I needed to be restrained to keep myself from biting the other guests. Then the person holding me back, Worple," Harry nodded. "Met a friend of sorts and let go of me to hug them. I proceeded to bump into another guest - McLaggen, I believe his name was - and he turned to berate me, only to lose balance and-"
"Fall face-first into you, yeah," said Harry. Sanguini blinked again.
"You're a quick-thinker, Harry. Yes, McLaggen fell toward me as you tried to pass and then-"
"And then I kneed you in the chest," said Harry quietly. Sanguini realized then that the boy was more talking to himself than him, and nodded. "Sorry about that, by the way. I reacted on instinct, too." the boy added. Sanguini shook his head.
"You've no need to apologize, Harry. I'm the one who bit you-" Sanguini began, getting cut off by Harry a moment later
"But I kneed you in the chest. I'm the reason you even had reason to bite in the first place." said Harry, who was now resting his chin in his hands. Sanguini blinked hard.
"You hardly have to-" the vampire began again, but Harry simply repeated his last statement. Sanguini felt his throat go dry as he formulated a response.
"Yes, you did, Harry. But it was McLaggen who started this by trying to incite conflict with me." said Sanguini, whose last desire at the moment was to be known as the vampire who convinced their biting victim that they were to blame - let alone do that to Harry Potter. But Harry shook his head, making his hair even worse.
"But it doesn't matter, does it? What's done is done, right?" Sanguini blinked once more, surprised by the maturity of Harry's response. The boy's response was what he would've expected an experienced auror to say to him, not a sixteen year-old who he bit only hours before.
"Mr. Potter, I appreciate the sentiment, but-" at that moment the door to the hospital wing opened, and Sanguini fell silent. Dumbledore strode in, looking at Harry with a small amount of worry.
"Excuse the interruption, Mr. Sanguini," said Dumbledore, "but I'd like to have a word with Mr. Potter myself, if you wouldn't mind. I didn't hear any shouting, so I presume that things have been going well." his eyes twinkled. "My hearing may be going, of course…" Sanguini looked to Dumbledore, and then to Harry. He took a breath and held out a near-skeletal hand to Harry.
"I apologize, Harry," said Sanguini, putting as much sincerity into his voice as he could manage. "I ask for forgiveness." Harry immediately grasped Sanguini's hand after he finished speaking.
"Well, it was an accident, wasn't it? I can't really be mad, can I?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and a smile graced his wizened features. Sanguini, who was still surprised by Harry's behavior, pumped the boy's arm twice, feeling awkward.
"Erm - right. Then I suppose I will be going now. Thank you for all of your hospitality Headmaster." Dumbledore continued to smile.
"Any time, Mr. Sanguini." and with that, Sanguini rose from his seat by Harry's cot and left the hospital wing, only letting himself breathe again when he the doors closed behind him.
"Well, Harry, I daresay you had any eventful night." said Dumbledore, who had taken up Sanguini's seat. Harry nodded, laughing in a hoarse voice.
"I s'pose…" he said, looking at the bedsheets. "Sir?" Dumbledore nodded.
"Why did he seem so nervous? I mean him…" Harry paused for a moment, "him biting me was an accident, right?" Dumbledore nodded again.
"Yes. It was. But I'd hazard to guess that Mr. Sanguini either hadn't ever bitten another person before, or had had it happen only rarely, with adults, and expected a far more… dramatic reaction from you." Harry opened his mouth, but Dumbledore held up a hand.
"Vampires are not generally held in high esteem by most wizards, even though most I've met - including Mr. Sanguini - say the life is often challenging. I believe he expected you to shout at him, Harry. I daresay that he will look back on this with relief, if he isn't already." Harry nodded, and opened his mouth.
"Yeah, I guess…" he fell silent for another moment, "So what'll… you know… happen to me?" there was a note of nervousness in his voice, and Dumbledore's smile faded.
"Yes, that. What will happen to you is in fact why I cut your conversation with Mr. Sanguini short. You see, Harry, when a vampire bites but doesn't drain you of your blood, you become infected. The infection, at first, simply paralyzes you, and then you go comatose as the infection spreads." Dumbledore saw Harry process this. "Normally you would have been turned into a vampire by now, but Professor Snape was able to contain the infection on the points where you were bitten," Harry's left fingers drifted, unbidden, to his puncture wounds. "For now. He told me that he suspects for the infection to get past his containment spell within a week, which gives me the time to explain to you the changes to expect." Harry nodded, feeling strangely numb.
"When the infection is complete you will transform into a vampire. It will be painful, I'm sorry to say, but when it is over, nothing more will happen to you. Now-" Dumbledore fell silent as a silvery doe galloped into the hospital wing and stopped before the headmaster. It spoke in Snape's silky voice.
"Scrimgeour has arrived. You are needed in your office, Headmaster." it said before dissolving silently into the air. Harry stared at the spot where the doe had been, utterly confounded. Dumbledore sighed.
"Alas, the minister awaits. I apologize that I am unable to continue this explanation, Harry. I will have a list of symptoms delivered to you tomorrow, at any rate. Assuming, of course Ms. Granger doesn't beat me to it." Dumbledore got up from his chair and was at the doors to the Hospital Wing when he turned to Harry.
"And if it's any comfort, Harry, Mr. Sanguini said your blood tasted absolutely horrid." Harry chuckled in a numb way, and leaned back, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. It had indeed been an eventful night for him, and the knowledge that he was going to in a week's time be a vampire was heavy on his mind.
He truly believed Sanguini that it was an accident, but that didn't mean that it would be any easier for him to accept it. After several more minutes of toiling with himself and wondering exactly what drove the world to do these things to him, he heard the door to Madam Pomfrey's office creak open. He saw the outline of a goblet in her hand and hoped it was something to put him to sleep, because he doubted he would get any otherwise. Madam Pomfrey speedily got to his bed, and he heard her sigh heavily on the way.
"Go on, drink up," she said in a stern tone. Harry took the goblet from her hands and drank it, immediately feeling drowsy. His eyelids felt heavy. He let out a large yawn and closed his eyes, laying down on his cot fully once more, asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
Welp. That happened.
Honestly, the idea struck me one day while re-reading THBP and the party scene with Sanguini. The thought of Harry becoming a vampire just… stuck and I couldn't help myself. I hope I got Harry's reaction down right. Any sort of response to this would make my day. 'Till next time - Raging Celiac