I do not own anything that will get me sued.

And thank you again to all of my reviewers! I really appreciate it!


It was with no small amount of glee among the Slytherins that the news of Professor Snape's role as referee for the next Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor spread like wildfire. Draco understood the hype very well; he too was a great fan of the sport. The Slytherin house had won the Cup for years in a row, but even the most arrogant of them were beginning to see that Gryffindor was beginning to become veritable competition.

Draco was loath to admit it, but a large part of the success amongst the lions was due to Harry Potter's ability. It was like swallowing a lemon whenever the Malfoy heir watched the wizarding world's celebrity fly. He would never admit as much aloud, but the Gryffindor had a natural affinity for broom flying. In fact, many of his House knew as much but it was a lot easier not to voice it. Leaving it to interpretation was the easiest way to deflect any deprecating truths. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, had been working their team to the ground. But Potter was a Seeker, and sometimes a talented Seeker was all you needed to win a game.

The only people in Slytherin House who weren't sore about the subject were several of the more indifferent girls and – you guessed it – Vlad.

The Romanian student barely twitched at the mention of Quidditch. It wasn't that much a surprise considering what had happened during their first flying class. The other boy had barely been able to stay on his broom and it had quickly proved to be the only class he struggled in. Draco felt petty admitting it, but he had been rather smug to discover that particular fact. So smug that he had quickly forgotten to rub the Remembrall Longbottom had dropped in the Gryffindor's face.

Draco sighed at the thought of Vlad. His classmate had proven to be far more useful than he had originally thought; the Life Debt the Malfoy heir now harbored was more than enough proof of that. It was odd but, for a Slytherin, Vlad was spontaneously laid back. Half of the time, Draco was trying to figure out whether Vlad behaved the way he did because he was trying to get something or simply because he wanted to be that open and considerate.

Ugh, considerate.

It had been a long time – if ever – since Draco had met such a person.

Yet, what had happened during the Christmas party had revealed another side to the Romanian. He wasn't as innocent as he appeared to be – or as ignorant. He clearly knew how to conduct himself within the higher circles when necessary, but he always left this subtle impression that behaving properly was something he actively avoided.

And then there was the mirror.

Oh, Draco hadn't let Vlad get off that easily on the train. It might have seemed like it considering how the other had relaxed afterward, but now the Malfoy heir had every reason to remain cautious and wary.

Draco couldn't deny that there was potential there. Plenty of it. His own father, so rarely impressed, commented for the briefest of milliseconds on it. And what Draco had told Vlad about the mirror hadn't even been the complete truth. Most people aren't called by the mirror at all. Only to those of Dark heritage or Dark themselves are ever enticed by the mirror's lull.

Which just made the picture Draco had of Vlad all the more ambiguous. The foreign student certainly did not seem the type to be in any way related to the Dark, but perhaps he had pulled a Sirius Black and gone against the current.

All Draco could continue to do was wait and watch at this point. It was far too early to make a clear decision and hadn't he always been taught to think carefully of his investments?

~0~

Vlad groaned as the crowd pushed him further into the Quidditch stands. He would have preferred to be anywhere else right now (most notably the library), but the collective insistence from the rest of the Slytherin House that all members attend the match to watch their Head of House humiliate the Gryffindors had finally gotten to him. It couldn't hurt to just watch, right? Perhaps he could manage to read a passage or two of the book he had smuggled along. He didn't have to pay attention; being there would suffice.

It was by pure coincidence that he ended up with Draco to his right; his left side pressed to the wooden side of the Slytherin stands separating them from the Gryffindor onlookers. It was hardly the most comfortable position but at least he was isolated enough to pull out his text. Normally, he would have been trying his hardest to blend in the crowd and pretend some interest in the sport. But something about the entire game rubbed him the wrong way. And it wasn't just the fact that brooms unsettled him (was that really a secure way to fly?). The position of Seeker, especially, bothered him because it was such an important role – eclipsing the rest. But who was he to question the rules of Quidditch when so many avid fans crowded the stands every time a match was scheduled?

Vlad read through the entire entrance and announcing of the teams, glancing up just once to watch Professor Snape stride on to the field. Things were beginning to look up when he found that he could read perfectly despite the loud clamor around him, but just as he was settling into a rhythm, something managed to smack him upside the head.

The young vampire yelped slightly at the surprise contact and instinctively looked towards the offender. Vlad almost wanted to groan when he saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. The boy, in his excitement, had abruptly stood up, raising his arms as in an effort to cheer. And since he was sitting right against the wood separating the two Houses, just opposite of where Vlad was seated, he had accidentally whacked the Slytherin in the process.

Vlad's annoyance quickly dissipated when he realized that it had been pure mishap, but Draco was less willing to do so. When Ron had hit Vlad, the young vampire had jerked away and stumbled into the Malfoy heir's side, catching the blonde's attention.

"Oh, wow, sorry mate," Ron quickly said, slightly distracted by the beginning match.

"Sorry? Is that all you can say?" Draco sneered. "Keep your hands to yourself, Weasley, and maybe the rest of us won't have to deal with your stupidity."

Oh, garlic. Just leave it up to the Malfoy heir to escalate an honest mistake into a war.

Immediately, the redhead had his attention focused upon Draco. "Shut up, Malfoy. Maybe if you snakes kept to yourselves, I wouldn't have to watch myself."

"You really are a disgusting blood traitor. Look at you: a brute just like the rest of your filthy friends." The last word had been spit out, like some rancid insult.

Vlad's eyes widened when, instead of Ron replying, Neville interrupted, "Y-you leave him alone." The tone was shaky at best and the way the poor guy was hunched in himself showed he was anything but confident in what he was doing. Still, it was probably the first time Vlad saw why Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Draco's eyes narrowed in disdain. "Stay out of this, Longbottom. You'll just hurt yourself."

So much for reading during the game. "Look," Vlad began. "It was just a mistake –"

"Hey, Malfoy!" crowed one of the other Gryffindors (Dean Thomas?) a little further down. "How much do you want to bet we'll still win the match even with Snape refereeing?"

Vlad could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding at the jab, a little shocked himself by the lack of respect the Gryffindors had for the Potions Master. They didn't even use "professor" before the man's name and that was, in many ways, a direct insult to somebody who had worked hard to gain enough knowledge to teach others. Even if the Potions Master was a jerk at times, that didn't warrant such clear contempt.

At this point, several more Slytherins had taken notice of the squabble and it seemed like everybody was at near blows with only a slab of wood in the way. Then, almost miraculously, Lee Jordan's voice echoed around the stadium, "Potter has caught the snitch!"

It had barely been five minutes into the game.

Vlad couldn't help but grin a little. The moment the announcement had been made, the two arguing parties had immediately stilled in slight surprise and shock. Who had ever heard of a Quidditch game lasting only a few minutes? Days – weeks even – were sometimes common occurrences among the higher ranked players, but Harry had managed to capture the snitch in an almost unheard of time span with Professor Snape watching nonetheless. Harry had probably just set a school record and saved the young vampire a fight to clear up.

"Ha! Did you see that, Malfoy?" Ron gleefully jeered.

None of them had actually seen what had happened, but Draco was too incensed to point that out. Instead, he turned upon the redhead and opened his mouth to snarl –

Vlad's hand gripping the blonde's forearm was the only thing that kept Draco from continuing whatever he had been planning to do. The Malfoy heir had thrown a filthy glare at the young vampire at first, but at Vlad's meaningful glance up towards the teacher's booth, Draco scowled and relented.

The Slytherin's backing down seemed to invigorate Ron even more. "What, got nothing to say?"

Vlad had never disliked Ron. Sure, the guy was brash and blunt, but he was never purposefully vindictive. That honesty and sincerity made the young vampire tolerate the Gryffindor's constant taunting towards his fellow Housemates much more easily than he might have otherwise. Vlad had never been one to judge based on outside impressions. If he had, he probably would have demanded a change out of Slytherin the first day in school simply because his House had hardly been the greatest of people. He did not know the redhead very well and therefore he could not critique Ron like Draco and his companions tended to do.

But Vlad was not feeling particularly charitable after his peculiar holidays and for the first time during his time at Hogwarts, his self-control snapped.

"We have plenty to say," Vlad snarled irritably. "We're just smart enough not to. Besides, Harry just won the game. Shouldn't you be cheering for him rather than arguing with us? Or is your stupid pride worth more than your friend?" There, that should keep the redhead quiet for a decent amount of time.

And indeed, Ron had merely gaped in response just as he had done the first time on their first train trip heading into Hogwarts. The hurt and wary look in the redhead's eyes made Vlad's conscience stir uneasily and he felt horrible for letting himself go like that. But another part of him burned with a sort of satisfaction he didn't like acknowledging.

Vlad was spared the sight of an insulted Ron Weasley as the crowd began to sweep them away and out of the stands. The results had been announced already – a clear Gryffindor victory – and there was nothing left to do but return to school.

Vlad allowed himself to be separated from Draco as the mass of bodies pushed and shoved for the quickest way out. He didn't exactly want to see what Draco's reaction would be like to his defense, even if it would be positive. He had to remind himself that hurting people like that, even if it wasn't physical, was not something he wanted to make a habit. His greatest wish was to be normal – anything but a vampire. And the only way to do that was to avoid anything remotely associated with them.

He was planning on immediately heading up to the library and sitting alone with his books to accompany him, but as his feet led him up to the castle, the corner of his peripheral vision caught sight of something hovering in the sky.

At first he absently dismissed it as another one of the common birds making its way over the school property. It was an everyday occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary. He was one of the few lingering towards the back of the mass heading back to Hogwarts, but those ahead of him didn't see it at all. If they didn't think it worth noticing, why should he?

But then he realized that the so-called bird was heading towards the Forbidden Forest. And Vlad had long ago realized that normal aviators never approached the magical woods. There must have been something unsettling about the entire place to keep the birds away, which meant that whatever Vlad had briefly seen was anything but regular. Vlad stopped in his tracks, allowing the last of the crowd to get ahead before peering closer at the flying projectile.

Imagine his surprise – or rather, lack of it – when he saw that it was Harry on his broom.

Good garlic, was the wizarding world's savior really the right person to go looking for trouble around every corner? The Gryffindor had run into the troll after Vlad had, had nearly choked on the snitch during his first Quidditch game, had run into a three-headed dog, and had been investigating what could be lurking in the third floor corridor.

And that was only counting the things Vlad had heard second-hand.

Vlad decided to curse his curiosity when he began to follow Harry. This was probably not a smart thing to do considering flying by broom was a much faster form of travel and flying over the Forbidden Forest was much safer than running into it on ground, but something was pushing him to pursue. If anything, maybe he could help Harry out with whatever he was investigating this time.

The Gryffindor was too far for Vlad to place a Tracking Charm so he followed to the very best of his ability, constantly looking up for a point of reference. It went well for a few minutes where the contrast between the sky and Harry's darker form was easy to spot. But once the canopy of the forest trees barred Vlad's view, things became considerably more complicated.

Scowling, Vlad tucked his book under one arm before reaching down to pick up a small twig. He really should stop now and go back when he still had the chance. It was the wise thing to do. Yet his thoughts remained only that: thoughts. His body just continued moving, his lips forming the words, "Point me." The twig spun in his palm like a compass before wobbling to an abrupt stop pointing southwest. It took a few moments of trekking through sparse brush and stumbling on a few large roots before Vlad heard the first signs of conversation.

He carefully tread across the forest floor until he was pressed up against a tree before peering around the trunk and catching sight of a shadowy clearing. There, Snape stood, towering over the quivering form of Professor Quirrell.

Even with the Potions Master's back to him, Vlad was fairly sure a thunderous expression was on the man's face. Not only had the professor just watched one of his most loathed students succeed (quite literally) under his nose, but now he was also facing the exact type of person prone to induce the man's irritation.

"…d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…"

"Oh, I though we'd keep this private," said the Potions Master, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

Quirrell mumbled under his breath, "What are you talking about –"

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" Professor Snape interrupted harshly.

"B-b-but Severus, I –"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "And you know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly and the slight rustling in a nearby birch tree abruptly pulled Vlad's attention away from the confrontation. His eyes immediately snapped towards the direction of the sound and his jaw almost dropped open when he saw Harry half crouched on his broom amongst the leaves of the tree almost directly above the two professors. The Gryffindor seemed flustered; he clearly had almost fallen out of his position from the owl's sudden call. But he quickly righted himself and was avidly listening to the exchange again, completely oblivious to Vlad's incredulous stare.

Well, at least Vlad had found what he had come for. But he could do very little in a situation like this when two far more experienced wizards would most likely punish the both of them should they be discovered. Vlad could only hope that Harry didn't do anything more stupid.

The young vampire's attention was drawn back to the two grown men as Professor Snape gave one last warning look at Quirrell. Then the Potions Master was striding out the clearing and back to the castle, pulling the hood of his black cloak over his head.

Glancing up, Vlad saw to his relief that Harry was flying away as well, probably believing that anything worth seeing was now at its end. The young vampire too decided that now was a good time to follow suit and leave undetected.

But he didn't have the chance as a sudden wave of Darkness choked him and sent him crumpling to his knees. A hand involuntarily reached out to grasp the wood he had been leaning on and Vlad prayed that his unexpected movement hadn't caused too noticeable of a noise.

It seemed that Quirrell hadn't heard a thing because a second later, Vlad could hear the man muttering to himself. He could barely make out the words, "I'm sorry, Master. I will be more careful –" A whimper of pain clogged off the rest of the sentence. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Quirrell stopped quivering and his voice came out strong and unwavering. "You're right, Master. I will do as you command."

Vlad had to wait for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to be completely out of the clearing before he could move again. The Darkness had been similar – horribly similar – to the magic he had tasted during Christmas and with terrifying clarity he realized that the three Gryffindors had been devastatingly wrong.

Professor Snape wasn't the culprit. Quirrell was.


The dialogue between Snape and Quirrell was mostly from the first Harry Potter novel. Please don't sue me for this. Just a heads up :)

And yup, that escalated rather quickly. I was kind of debating whether to put Vlad's discover in this chapter or not but I decided that I should. I had always planned for him to figure it out far earlier (I hinted at it when I mentioned Vlad's unease around Quirrell). In the back of his mind, Vlad had always been suspicious anyways. He IS a Dark Creature technically, so he would be able to sense how "odd" Quirrell is from the start.

It's a REALLY tiny, eensy-weensy detail, but in the novel, Harry couldn't hear what Quirrell mumbled after Snape made the whole "students shouldn't know about the Stone" comment. I made Vlad hear it on purpose...because he has better hearing. In the show, it kind of portrayed that born vampires don't just magically get all of their powers and whatnot after their sixteenth birthday. They kind of have their powers beforehand, especially if they're strong. So here was just a minuscule hint of that.

And um, yeah. I think that's about it for now. Till next time!