"You've been acting strangely Harry."
"What's the matter with you?"
"You don't look your usual self."
These were the only things people talked about with Harry these days. No more compliments on Quidditch, no more hero, no more anything except...
He saw Ron and Hermione talking nervously in a corner, occasionally stealing glances at him. Harry knew they were worried.
Among all the odd stares and confused looks, Harry saw his getaway: a foriegn exchange student, Sylivia.
Sylivia was not like the other students Hogwarts had recieved this year. There was something mystical about her. She had black hair, like his, and ice blue eyes. Her skin was pale and soft, her lips strikingly red against her colorless skin. She was beautiful, no doubt, in her own unique way. Not like the blondes with tan skin on the beach, or the redheads with freckles. She had her own developed look.
At first Harry was scared of her. She was a year older, going into her sixth, and he was a fifth. She seemed to follow, or almost stalk him. For nearly a quarter of the year, he was terrified of her.
Then she caught him off guard. He was walking to Hagrid's hut to tell him that another owl had been killed. Eventually they got off subject and talked about other things. He stayed until about eight, then left to the castle alone, his first mistake.
It was particulary dark that night. He felt a presence, and started running. But Sylivia caught up to him.
For some odd reason, this time, he wasn't scared.
"Hello, Harry." she said, her words like torns.
"Er, hello, uh,"
"Sylivia."
"Hello Sylivia."
And that was how they became friends. Not friends, really. Just associates. But Harry stopped hanging around Ron and Hermione after awhile. He had to talk to Sylivia.
She was fascinating. She knew so much - far more than Hermione, and she told him things that he would never have thought of. Myserious places, ideas on everything...it was unbelivable.
But reality soon faded. Harry found himself thinking terrible things, like being haunted. He couldn't stop. More than once he was sure Sylivia was doing something to him, but she said words that made him forget his troubles.
"Harry, it may be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You have a strange connection with him. He is doing this to you."
Her words were simple, but like a child reading a fantasy book, Harry believed every one of them, as ridiculous as they sounded.
And Harry was drifting farther and farther away from everything except Sylivia. His grades dropped, he skipped Quidditch practices, he found himself awake at night.
By now people sensed change. It was as if they were afraid of Harry. Even Malfoy stopped him teasing.
Harry was in a snow globe, and he couldn't get out.
Now he was even seeing change in his apperance. His eyes seemed dull and lifeless, his skin chalky. His health was down too. He couldn't eat anything. But he drank water. He drank everything. He went to Madam Pomfrey for fear of dehydration, but she couldn't find anything wrong with him. He wasn't sure anyone could.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It was Potions. Harry was mixing powder in his cauldron mindlessly. That's when it happened. Neville cut himself on the hand. The blood...it was...there. He staggered toward it, then fell back, passed out, and lais on the dungeon floor, alone.
Awake, in the hospital wing, in the middle of the night, Harry was thirsty. He got up and his feet led him to a room in the wing full of medicines.
And red liquid. Blood. Hungrily, he grabbed a jar of it. Human Replacement Blood it read. With greedy fingers, Harry opened the jar and drank all of the blood in three swallows.
It wasn't salty, like he expected. It was sweet, like sugar. Delicious. The thing he had wanted for weeks, the only thing he craved.
He looked at the jar. What was happening to him? What was he doing? Was he a...a...a vampire? Sylivia...she bit him...she...vampires...
A nightmare. It was a nightmare. Harry had not just drank human blood, and Sylivia did not bite him. He was not a vampire. But how did he get here? Sleepwalking, he thought. Of course, sleepwalking.
He dropped the glass bottle on the floor. It was empty. It was filled with thick, red liquid a few seconds before. Had he really drank the blood?
The shattering of the glass seemed silent to Harry. He didn't care if anyone heard it, (which they didn't) but he cared what he saw when he went down on the floor to pick up the three broken pieces.
He saw nothing. Nothing. Bottles of multi-colored medicines, shelves, and jars of this and that. But he saw no Harry in the pieces of broken glass. No reflection. Nervously, he tilted the glass at different angles, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He couldn't.
A drop of red slowly slithered down a piece of the glass. Harry held out his finger and caught it. He brang his finger to his lips and...
Harry? What are you doing? This is human blood! he screamed in his mind. Get out of here!
He ran. He ran right back to the hospital wing. And he tried to get to sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * *
After the darkness of the night had ended, and the brightness of Saturday morning came, Harry went back to the Gryffindor Tower. He was happy to see his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, and even talked to someone other than Sylivia.
But she found him.
"Where were you?" she asked, halft annoyed, half curious.
"I was in the hospital wing."
"You were in the hospital wing all night because you fainted?"
Harry shuffled his feet. "Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping me beacuse I looked sick."
At this Sylivia looked worried. "Did she find anything?"
"No. She said it was probably the weather." Harry wondered again if Sylivia had anything to do with the strange occurance last night. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
She smiled. Almost evily. "No Harry, I think that you're looking better every day."
And that got his spirits low again.
* * * * *
Late that night in the common room, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the feather armchairs by the everlasting fire of the Gryffindor common room. Harry had called an emergency meeting, something they all three had very rarely nowadays, with Syivia in the picture.
"So," began Ron, cracking his knuckles. "What's with you, Harry?"
Harry thought. He was going to tell them everything. They were his real friends. They would understand. And maybe they could help him.
"I think that something bad is happening to me."
Hermione's face looked stoney. "I think so too Harry. You haven't been yourself all year."
"I know. But I don't know if it's really me anymore...I think that Harry's dying."
Talk like this startled Ron. "But how?"
"Strange things are going on inside my head. And around me too. I...I don't know how to describe it. It's like someone's controling my mind."
"Is Sylivia-" Hermione began, but Harry cut her off with "I know that no one's controlling me, but I think that Sylivia does have something to do with it."
"Harry," said Hermione, "You've got to tell us what it is. We can't help you if you don't tell us anything."
So Harry began the long talk about his abnormal occurances. The reflectionless in the glass, the sleepwalking, the blood. The constant tiredness and laziness. He ended with, "I think I'm turning into a vampire."
Hermione and Ron just sat there for a moment, not believing the odd tales Harry had just told.
Ron made the first move. "Meet us tomorrow morning in the library. We have some researching to do.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry awoke to a bright, miraculous Sunday morning. He pulled on his robes and looked in the mirror. Startled, he looked 100% better. His hair wasn't as messy as usual, his complexion was bright and glossy. He looked like a brand new person. Maybe he wasn't turning into a vampire!
When Harry arrived at the library, Hermione and Ron were already digging through books.
Harry expected them to be happy when they saw how good he looked today, but instead, Hermione cried a curious, "Oh no!" when she saw him. Ron was also looking at him with a painful expression.
"What? I thought that I looked nice today!"
Hermione bit her trembling lip. "That's the whole problem! Harry, this is terrible!"
"I don't understand. What's wrong about having a good hair day?"
"We were looking at a chapter of how to recognize vampires. I think you should take a look at this," Ron said seriousley.
Slowly Harry picked up a dusty gray book that looked to be about a hundred years old. Not sure if he wanted to read this or not, he brought his eyes to the page.
Vampires are easy to recognize once you know the symptoms of them. The first and easiest sign is no reflection.
"You guys, I saw my reflection in the mirror today," Harry said.
"Just keep reading."
Another sign is the growing and sharpening of the canine teeth.
Harry felt his teeth. No sharpening yet.
Perhaps the most unusual vampiristic trait is the achiveing of beauty. If bitten by a vampire, the victim will usually die, but if their biter is intending to turn them into another vampire...
Harry felt disgusted.
... they will live, but only with the cursed vampire life. The person will also start to change their apperance. Vampires are known for their ultimate beauty, it's the way they charm their victims into liking them, therfore if they are bitten, it is tricky to prove them guilty.
"What? Do you guys think that Sylivia choose me to be a vampire?"
"Shhhhh, Harry, keep your voice down. There are other people here ay know!" Ron whispered.
Harry lowered his voice. "Well, I guess I'm turning into a vampire then."
Hermione shook her head. "It's the most likely thing Harry. I've been here for hours, reading about vampires, and I think you look a lot better because you drank that blood."
Harry's heart gave an excited beat. "So if I don't drink any blood, I won't become a vampire?"
"Well, er no," Ron said. "But, um, you'll die without it in about a week."
"A week! We have a week to turn me back to normal?"
"Harry, that's the problem. We can get you blood every week from the medical cabinet..."
"And we can just do that for the rest of my life!"
Hermione frowned. "Until you're a full vampire. Then you'll want fresh blood. You'll be uncontrollable. You'll start to kill people Harry."
Harry felt his heart sinking. "Thanks Hermione."
"Well I had to tell you somehow. it's for your own good."
"Well, is there any cure for a vampire?" Ron asked eagerly.
"That's the other problem. I can't find one anywhere. There's stuff on how to kill a vampire, and how to find one, how to-"
"Nothing on bringing one back to normal," Harry said glumly.
"I'm sure we'll find one...somewhere. I just don't know where..."
"Maybe we should see Dumbledore."
"Harry, we can't. You'd get expelled for sure."
"So? At least I wouldn't be a vampire!"
"See him if you want to Harry, but I'm not promising anything," Ron said dully.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Taking his own advice, Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door. She opened it with not much of a warning, and it hit Harry on the elbow. A splinter jabbed at his skin, breaking it. A few beads of blood dribbled out. The sight made him dizzy.
"Mr. Potter?" she asked. "What do you need?"
Harry quickly clamped his hand over the wound. "I, uh...wanted to see, um..."
It was impossible to think. All Harry could concentrate on was blood.
"Yes?"
"Um...I wanted to see...uh..."
"Mr. Potter, do you need anything or not?"
"I wanted...um, to...to...to..."
"Mr. Potter, enought of your foolisness. Return to your common room."
Dazed, Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room, unable to think.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Awake the next morning, and hardly ready for Herbology class in twenty minutes, Harry mindlessly got dressed. He looked as bad as he had Saturday, if not worse. The blood must ware off, he thought.
He was just leaving for class when an announcment soared across all of Hogwarts. All students report immediatley to their common rooms!
Harry retraced his steps and sat down. Within a few moments, people trickled in, some confused, some looking happy for missing class. Sylivia looked rather pleased, if not more happy.
Professor McGonagall was the last to enter. "Students, we just had a terrible thing happen last night."
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
"One of our students is missing. We can't find out what happened to him."
"Who is it?" Lee Jordan asked uncertainly.
"Draco Malfoy."
As much as Harry hated Draco, he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His first guess was that Sylivia had bitten him, and "hidden the evidence." Hadn't Harry seen her flirting with him in the Great Hall? Didn't Sylivia walk with him to class Thursday?
Harry might of been thinking crazy, but he knew that Draco didn't do one of his stupid stunts like hiding just to see how worked up the school could get.
Suddenly, a light clicked on on Harry's head. The Map! Harry could use his special map to see where Draco was, if he was still alive. A map that had once been his father's, was now his. It showed all of Hogwarts and all of the people in it.
That night, Harry slid the old map out from under his bed. He looked around for a few moments to see where the person labeled Draco Malfoy was. Finally, he found him...in one of the secret rooms that he was sure Fred and George had discovered.
Quickly, Harry woke Ron.
"Ron, I know where Draco is!"
Ron eagerly got up. "Where?" he whispered "Did you...did you..." he dropped his voice to a very hoarse whisper "Did you kill him?"
"Of course not! I think that Sylivia's keeping him there! We have to go get him!"
"Okay, do you still have your invisibility cloak?"
"Why wouldn't I? Come on, let's go!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
They arrived at the secret room in a quarter of an hour. (It was behind a statue.) They silently entered it, after saing three times in a row, "Zilbat, Zobay, Zeezi!"
It looked like a deserted classroom. When they first didn't see. Draco, Harry lit his wand. He slowly brang it to the floor and...
Draco Malfoy was lying on the floor, white as a ghost, blood dripping out of his neck. He was dead.
A/N: Ewwwww. Gross. I had major inspiration today, hope you like it! :)