Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies.

A/N: This was made by me, because I was bored, and with Halloween coming up and all that, I'm feeling more festive - this is just a small treat to myself for the upcoming Halloween, although this is a tad early and I'll probably finish it after Halloween. I have no idea what kind of person would read this, since it's kind of stupid, but I had fun writing the beginning. This first part is short, but the next parts will be a lot longer. Like, triple longer.

Also, if anyone reads this and wants to give it a shot, I'll shoot this out as a challenge fic. :D The rules will be simple -

Harry must be in elementary school, between six to ten years old. It doesn't matter what time of the year it is, but to be fun, try to make it around Halloween. Snape must be in it, however you do that, it's up to you, but Harry has to think that Snape's a vampire. Snape has to follow Harry around (on whatever duties, it's your choice.) Remus Lupin can be involved as well, or any of the other faculty of Hogwarts. And most importantly, you have to make it FUN. :D Anyways, any questions can be asked about this and I'll answer them the best I can. Well, for anyone giving it a shot, please contact me about it so I can check it out! Good luck!

Anyways. Beware; stupidity ahead, along with hallucinations and horrible studio graphics. You've been warned.

Not Your Average Dracula

By: xScenex aka Min

Prologue

A flash of light burst into the tiny room, but was gone within seconds. What was that? Lightning?

BOOM! Clutter, bang, snap.

Er.

"CUT!"

At those words, numerous piles of robes fell from the above stage, leaving anything and everything draped in the brown coils.

"What a disaster!" shrieked the producer into his microphone, his high, nasal voice piercing the air. "This is NOT what I expected from you lot! Potter, Get down! Down, now! Come on, Get!"

Hanging his head, a small child with dark, unruly hair slipped down from one of the above platforms.

"Sir, I'm sorry. The noise just scared me --"

"No excuses!" came the annoyed reply. "If you can't hold the buckets up until the right time, you are out of this play!"

Sniffling, the boy nodded. "It wont happen again."

"I hope not. Now, Duncan, if you and your friend there -- no, the other one -- would pick up those ropes and stick them over in that corner…"

Seven year old Harry Potter shook his head as the man waved his arms around flamboyantly, yelling once again into his microphone. He really disliked his Drama teacher - why did little kids have to take drama anyways?

He sniffled again and wiped the underside of his eyes with his hand, dislodging his large, round glasses frames. After a second, his vision became blurry, but he didn't care.

Since no one was looking, he scampered off the stage and into the back equipment rooms as noiselessly as possible. It was no use for him to stay out there if everyone was only going to yell at him.

Scrunching up his face in anger, Harry whispered, "If they want someone to hold ropes, they'll do it themselves."

The small child flopped down onto the cold floor between two tall boxes, efficiently blocking himself away from anyone's view if they came to look for him. He seethed with embarrassment and anger, unsure why he was being yelled at for dropping ropes. It's not like it was the 'big night' as the teacher liked to say.

He wasn't sure how long passed but eventually, he heard the other kids his age scampering along the stage, cleaning up for the evening. They were laughing, snickering, and giggling in the fashion that little kids do.

Poking his head out and looking left and right, Harry crawled out of his hiding place covered in dust. He hurried to get out of the back storerooms before they were locked up and snuck a glance out of the deep, red satin curtains to make sure that his teacher was gone.

He didn't see anyone on the stage so he pushed the curtain aside to let himself out. He didn't want to run into the other children - they'd only make fun of him for his mess-up earlier. His cousin, Dudley, would make sure of that.

The little boy was halfway across the stage when he heard a small noise out in the audience seats.

Snapping his head up, Harry squinted into the dimly lit room. He scanned the area hesitantly like any child would, until his eyes landed on a tall, dark figure sitting in the middle row, in the middle section.

He gasped and looked away. Who was it? No one was allowed into the auditorium except for the participants of the play and the teachers of the school, and by the looks of it, that person down there wasn't a teacher.

At his thoughts, the stranger seemed to upturn his face and a gleam of white teeth set in the form of a grimace shone slightly in the dim light.

Gulping in horror, Harry nearly ran off the stage towards the exit doors. He pressed with his body weight against the door to open it, and before he slipped completely out of the building, he chanced one more glance at the person, his heart beating a mile a minute.

They were still sitting, but he knew they were watching him. The dark hair that hung shoulder length shadowed the face, but Harry got the impression of someone up to no good. Maybe that was one of those guys that his Uncle always called a 'freak'.

He could see why - the person was wearing something that resembled a dress, but yet, it fanned out over the shoulders much like a cape would.

With wide, horrified eyes, his mind turned numerous gears quickly, thinking up some of the most ridiculous possibilities of what this man could be.

Once his thoughts stopped on the image of a black and white film Dudley had once watched on Halloween a year or so ago, with a man in a large black cape, ghost white skin, and fangs the size of shark teeth, he shook with fear.

In complete terror, Harry ran out the door and slammed it behind him. He felt his heart skip slightly at the thought of a vampire in his school.

But after a few seconds, Harry giggled loudly. Since when were vampires real? Uncle Vernon had said they weren't, and he might as well believe it. Dudley didn't believe in them, neither did the other kids in his class.

But just in case, he made sure the door was shut tightly and then made his way down the sidewalk around the building. He didn't have anything from school with him, since they didn't have homework that day. Miss Henderson said that it was alright to leave their stuff in their cubbies as long as they didn't have anything for their parents in there.

So, without a bag or anything else on his back, he was free to run around for a few hours before he was required to be home.

Smiling at the lack of restrictions, he headed towards the school gate to go to the nearby park.

The sky was dim, covered in grey, heavy clouds. The smell of rain was on the wind as it whipped around the dark haired child, disheveling the already unruly locks. The orange, red, and brown leaves on the trees and on the ground crackled and scraped as the wind blew them into piles or across the concrete.

Harry took a look around, a bit unnerved by how quiet it was besides the weather. Where were the other children?

He took a few small steps towards the gate again, looking left and right. The courtyard was empty, and the windows lining the front of the school building were dark. The playground further away was empty as well, the swings slowly moving on their own accord.

Shivering, Harry stuffed his small hands into his jacket and, with head bowed down, he jogged up the path. When he got to the gate, he sighed slightly. He was being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel as if he were being watched.

He slipped out onto the grass lawn before the street and turned around for a mere second. But that was long enough to see the black shape turning a corner around the school building.

He was nearly sure that he'd just imagined the shape, but the sound of cloth whipping in the wind was a reminder that some things were quite real.

The boy gulped again but pushed his panic down. Even if there was someone up to no good, what could he do? No one would believe him - not again, after he turned his teachers hair blue, or since he found himself on top of the school's rooftop without remembering how he got there.

Then, with wide eyes, Harry thought of something. What if this man had always lived in the school? What if he'd been the cause for all the weird things that happened?

But that was just stupid, he told himself. He couldn't blame those incidences on anyone or anything else. He was a freak, like his uncle said, and he would have to live with that.

It could be a bit fun, he mused.

But the thought of the stranger lingered in his mind as he hurriedly turned around, heading towards the walk that would lead him strait to Privet Drive.

Should I continue? Yes, or no?