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Harry Potter and the Ankh of Khepri
A Sequel to "Harry Potter and the Phoenix's Flight"
By The Velvet Ghost
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Chapter Fourteen - Blood Night
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Ron and Ginny fought late into the night. Once Hermione found out what Ron and
Harry had witnessed, she joined the arguments too, saying that Ron should be
more happy for Ginny and stop trying to control her. Harry did his best to stay
out of it. After many tears and shouting, Ginny stormed away upstairs to bed,
yelling at Ron that it was her life and she'd do what she wanted. Harry was
exceptionally glad that Hermione didn't stay angry at Ron, as he felt very sorry
for his best friend now. Hermione seemed to realise how hard things were for
Ron, and to cheer him up, she let him beat her spectacularly at wizard's chess.
Ron felt a little better after this, and for once, he managed to sit and talk
without snapping at somebody.
Things were very strained at breakfast. Ron wasn't talking to Ginny or Draco,
and they were ignoring him just as fiercely. Neville, Luna and Kainda had no
idea of what had happened the night before, and most unfairly Harry thought,
everybody dumped the job of telling them on him. He explained briefly. Neville
looked very shocked at the news, and even Kainda was taken aback, though Luna
just smiled slowly.
"How sweet," she murmured. "Romeo and Juliet, ignoring the
wishes of others, just to be together."
"Draco's hardly Romeo," said Kainda, smiling weakly. "And
Ginny's not a Juliet. Who wants to take bets on how long it's going to
last?"
"That's hardly fair," said Luna, serenely. "I think we should be
happy that we now have three couples in our group. Only Neville and I remain
single. Though who knows."
Neville edged away from her to hide behind Harry.
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After breakfast, Draco went off into the grounds with his sketchpad. Ginny
headed away to the library, probably to get out of the range of Ron's dark
looks. Ron and Hermione headed back to Gryffindor Tower, with Neville in
pursuit, and Luna pranced away to the Ravenclaw common room. Harry checked his
watch, and saw that he didn't have long before the start of his lesson with
Professor Lupin. Kainda, who had just come wheeling out of the Great Hall, saw
the look on his face and came over.
"Harry? Something wrong?"
"Yeah... I've got an extra class," he said. "I don't really want
to go though."
"Is it Potions? I heard somebody say you're doing remedial potions a while
ago," she said, moving along beside him as he headed towards the Dark Arts
classroom slowly.
He smiled. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Sure I can."
"I'm not," he said, smiling still. "That's just what I have to
tell everybody. I do occlumency and legilimency. Mind stuff."
Kainda goggled at him. "Are you serious? Who with?"
"Snape," he replied.
"Oh, is that why... you've got your collar thing...?"
"No, that's something else."
"Tell me about it?"
He smiled. "It's... really, really, really complicated. And I'm willing to
bet quite a lot of gold that you won't believe me."
"Oh, I've believed some garbage in my time. Does anybody else know about
this really complicated stuff?"
"No. I've probably told you the most about it, when you were just leaving
the hospital wing, last year. With all the Healers. Remember I told you that
Dumbledore's told Snape and Peter to look after me?"
She nodded a little. "Vaguely. I wasn't exactly concentrating on
remembering every word you said then though. How about we meet up after your
lesson? We can talk more then."
"Sure," he said. "I'll come and find you... where will you
be?"
"Probably the library, or the Great Hall," she said. She waved as she
turned around, called goodbye, and then headed away back down the corridor. He
quite wanted her to stay, at least so he could delay his killing lesson with
Lupin, though he had to go. He knew it was important. Even if he didn't want to
murder small creatures.
When Harry knocked on the door to Lupin's office, it opened almost immediately,
though it wasn't Lupin who looked out at him. Madam Ivy, wearing a rather
oriental red-dress and her hair up in sharp spikes, smiled down at him.
"Ah, hello Potter. You must be here to see Professor Lupin. He's through
in his private rooms."
"Thanks, Madam," said Harry. She opened the door of the office, and
let him in, leading him over to another door. She knocked three times, and
Lupin's voice came drifting out.
"Yes?"
"Harry Potter's here to see you, Professor," said Madam Ivy.
The door opened, and Lupin glanced out, looking rather peaky and pale. He gave
Harry a kind smile. "Morning, Harry. How are you?" And the moment
Harry stepped into his private rooms, he slammed the door in Madam Ivy's face.
"Fine," said Harry, trying not to smile too much. "Are
you...?"
"Tired, but well," said Lupin, smiling wearily and sitting down in an
armchair by the window, gesturing for Harry to sit.
As Harry sat down, he had a look around curiously. Lupin's private rooms were
far, far different to Snape's. The walls were cream compared to the dark navy
of Snape's chambers, and the floor was not stone but beige carpet. They
probably had the same amount of furniture, though Lupin's seemed much more
spread out and spacious. Harry felt a little more comforted by his
surroundings. He knew that if he was learning how to kill in the dark of
Snape's private rooms, he wouldn't be able to sleep properly for a month.
"How was your first week?" asked Lupin, kindly.
Harry smiled as he thought about this. "Eventful. And exhausting."
"You'll be glad to know today's lesson isn't going to be overly demanding
then," said Lupin, with a small smile. "I'm just going to start
teaching you a few extra curses you could use in a duelling situation. I
understand that you are not looking forward to the prospect of killing
something, and I can see why, so I'll teach you some curses to disable your
opponent at first. We'll build up slowly, Harry."
Feeling encouraged by this news, Harry nodded. Lupin seemed ready to start. He
stood up, shrugged off his work robes and hung them by the window, before
taking out his wand, beckoning Harry over to a cleared space in the room.
"First things first, Harry. How to destroy an opponent's wand."
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Several long hours later, Harry hobbled out of Lupin's room, nursing a small
bruise forming on his hand and checking his wand for scratches. Not only had he
learnt how to completely destroy an opponent's wand and protect himself from
the surge of raw magic that would flood out of it, but how to perform an
advanced bone-breaking curse, how to freeze a single muscle in the body rather
than the full body bind, a piercing charm that could be extremely painful, and
a nice selection of useful jinxes. Next lesson, Harry would be learning how to
do incantations whilst running. It was good to know he wouldn't be murdering
things right from the word 'go'.
When Harry entered the library, he found it fairly full. Nearly all the tables
were full of students working through their start-of-term revision homework,
and after a few minutes of checking, Harry realised that Kainda wasn't there.
He left the library, and entered the Great Hall. A few people sat here and
there, playing chess or talking. By far the most noticable pair in the hall sat
over by the window, debating what looked like a music magazine. Professor
Chetry was today wearing a rather grubby looking white shirt with a tartan
waistcoat, trousers that looked more like pajama bottoms, and a little tartan
golfing hat. A huge fluffy rainbow scarf was wrapped around his neck, and even
though he was inside, a pair of star-shaped sunglasses were perched on top of
his wild shock of multicoloured hair. Kainda sat opposite him. She wore a warm,
dark-brown sort of sweater that was definitely more comfortable than it was
eye-catching, but compared to Professor Chetry she looked amazingly
sophisticated.
"Nae, nae," he was saying, richly, jabbing one pudgy finger at an
article they were arguing over. "Ye have te listen te all kindsa
varietiesa muggle music before ye can start sayin' tha' wizardin' stuff is
better. Aye, I'm nae sayin' all muggle music is brilliant, but most of it does
the job okay. Selestina Worbeck could take a few pointers from Celine Dion,
lemme tell ye that."
"You've got to look at a wider scale though," Kainda said, wisely.
"Yes, you've got Celine Dion, but then you've got people like The Cheeky
Girls. And look at wizarding music, we've got The Weird Sisters, Selestina
Worbeck..."
"Aye, but the muggles have got the Bay City Rollers," said Chetry,
proudly, jabbing at one of the many badges on his scarf. "Now there is nae
a single piece of music in the world tha's anywhere near as good as anythin'
the Bay City Rollers can do."
Harry came over, and sat down at their table. Kainda looked up, and as she did,
Harry realised that it was a wizarding magazine they had open. The title of the
article was, "Muggle Records To Be Released To Wizarding Community : Take
back your garbage, say The Weird Sisters".
"Hiya Harry," she said, smiling. "How was your lesson?"
"Fine," he said. "Easier than I thought it would be
anyway."
"Great." She smiled to Professor Chetry. "I agreed to go for a
walk with Harry, sir... you don't mind, do you? You can borrow the magazine if
you want, by the way."
"Ach, thanks," he said, beaming. "Nae, I dunnae mind. Ye two go
an' enjoy ye walk - dunnae be gettin' up te any mischief now, will ye?"
Kainda smiled politely. "No, no, we won't, Professor."
Harry took the handles of her wheelchair, and together, they left the hall.
Professor Chetry went off the other way, singing a very tuneless version of
Kylie Minogue's latest song and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Kainda
laughed softly.
"He's mental," she said, shaking her head. "He's funny as hell
in lessons, but he's mental."
"What are you doing in Muggle Studies at the moment?" Harry asked.
"Music," she replied. "Professor Chetry's a bit of an expert on
it. He's sung in muggle karaoke bars and everything. Though he could really do
with updating his tastes a little. The Bay City Rollers... honestly."
As they took a side-door out into the courtyard with the fountain, Harry was
feeling a bit worried. He planned to tell Kainda everything, because as things
became more and more dangerous and suspicious, he wanted somebody he could talk
to about it. Somebody who he had never had a fight with, would believe every
word, and wouldn't want to constantly know more information and use it as
something to nag him about. The only person who really fitted all the criteria
was Kainda, though it wasn't her reaction Harry was worried about. It was
Snape's. Did Snape expect Harry to keep the secret of the bond forever?
Though as they stepped out into the courtyard, Harry realised that it wasn't
the most private place to talk in, as he noticed Ron and Hermione sitting on a
stone bench across the courtyard. He stopped, intending to turn around, but Ron
had spotted him.
"Hey, Harry! Where have you been?"
"My extra lesson with Professor Lupin," said Harry. Deciding that he
could always talk to Kainda in private later, he wheeled her carefully down the
steps, over to join Ron and Hermione. Ron was looking quite cheerful, and Harry
wasn't ungrateful for it. "I told you, remember?"
"Oh yeah," said Ron, nodding.
"So what have you two been doing?" asked Kainda, idly.
"Just sitting outside, getting my backside stuck to this bench," Ron
shrugged. "There's nothing else to do. Done all my homework already. Don't
know how I did it, but I did."
Ron and Hermione both moved up on the bench, letting Harry sit down. They then
huddled together, like penguins in a blizzard, and Harry couldn't help but smile.
It was good to be around people who weren't at each other's throats for once.
He was just starting to wonder if he could possibly live the rest of his entire
life like this, trotting faithfully between Ron and Draco, when a little voice
spoke in the back of his head.
"Potter...?"
Harry nearly spoke aloud to reply, but caught himself just in time, and instead
thought, "Professor?", as his three friends started discussing
Professor Chetry's taste in music.
"Why, precisely, am I sitting here and getting the feeling you're doing
something you shouldn't be?" Snape's voice said.
Harry tried to keep his expression blank, not wanting his company to think he
was hallucinating. "I'm not," he thought, in as innocent a tone as he
could. "I'm sitting in the courtyard with Ron, Hermione and Kainda."
"Doing what?"
"Just talking," thought Harry.
"About?"
Harry had trouble controlling both his face and his thoughts, before thinking,
calmly, "Professor Chetry."
"And what are you, or were you, planning to do after this
conversation?"
"Do you want for the next week, or month, or my whole lifetime, or
what...?"
"Do not take that tone with me. I mean short-term, Potter."
Harry twitched a little. "I sort of want to tell them."
"What about?" Snape's voice said sharply in his mind.
"The bond," Harry thought.
He quite expected a very sharp and impatient no, or for Snape to perhaps even
shout at him across their telepathy, but Snape managed to surprise him. He
didn't say yes, though very significantly, he didn't say no. "Who are you
planning upon telling, and for what reasons?"
"Ron, Hermione, Kainda. Because of extra safety. If I'm ever in big
trouble, but you're ignoring me or busy or just think I'm being my usual risky
self, they can run and get you. Or if I go missing and you can't find me, you
can ask them. I'm protected by Ron's presence, after all, so both you and him
are looking out for me. He should at least know." For extra measure, he
added a very hopeful and pained, "Please...?"
"I can just imagine the puppy-eyed expression on your face, Potter."
Snape sighed into his mind. "I regret having so much contact with you,
now. You're learning how to argue logically. Though I must admit... very well.
Though rest assured Potter, if word gets out, it will be you running around the
school performing memory charms, and not me."
Harry grinned. "Thanks," he thought, before subtly cutting off the
link. He didn't know how he had done it, he just had. It was just like closing
his eyes - he didn't need to be taught how.
Ron was in the middle of a long speech about a concert Fred and George went to
once, when he cut off, seeing the smile on Harry's face. He frowned. "What
are you grinning at?"
"You know ages and ages ago," said Harry, casting his mind back.
"On that day that Kibbles set fire to the shed with the opsittops in. And
we thought it was Death Eaters trying to kill Hagrid."
"Yeah..." said Ron, slowly.
"And Snape came running down from the castle, shouting at me. Then he
pulled me away and put a collar on me, and then you asked what it was all
about. I told you I couldn't say, and you asked if I would tell you
someday."
"Yes..."
Harry smiled. "It's someday. Come on, let's go for a walk. I can tell you
everything."
"What, all of us?" said Ron, incredulously.
Harry nodded, and stood up, tucking his cloak further around himself. All three
of them were watching him closely, clear surprise on their faces. He grinned at
their expressions. "Come on, I bet you five chocolate frogs you won't be
able to guess."
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"That's three... four... and five." Ron handed over the last
chocolate frog.
Harry smiled slightly. "Thanks. So was finding out worth them?"
Ron gave him an odd look, and raised one eyebrow. "Finding out that
Snape's purpose in life is to guard you, that you actually quite enjoy his
company, that Peeves the poltergeist is also obliged to give his life to
protect you, and that you can actually talk to him telepathically?"
"Well?"
"Priceless."
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Harry had predicted their reactions to everything perfectly. Kainda found it
pretty cool, and though she didn't ask questions, she clearly found the idea
entertaining. Hermione, on the other hand, asked millions of questions, managed
to work out hundreds of incidents that proved the existance of the bond, and
then went off to the library, bringing back a great big book full of more
information about wizarding bonds. Ron seemed just as curious as Hermione,
though his questions weren't quite as technical.
"So... Snape can read your thoughts?" he asked, staring at Harry
across the table at lunch.
"Only the ones I want him to," said Harry, pleasantly. The hall was
relatively empty, as most people were still out in the grounds or in their
common rooms, and so they could talk in peace. Only Ron and Harry were in for
lunch today. Hermione was still in the library, now learning about the bond
between twins, and Kainda had gone off to the common room to rest her stomach.
Even though they were pretty much alone, Ron and Harry had purposely taken a
table far across the hall from anybody else, and only Snape was sitting
anywhere near them, twirling his fork through a plateful of salad.
"So it's not like... he's there, all the time, in your head," said
Ron, oblivious to the fact he was just spooning soup onto his plate.
"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "The telepathic link isn't
open all the time, just when I want it to. He can read my thoughts if we've got
eye contact though."
"All your thoughts?" asked Ron, quickly.
"Just any I let him see," said Harry, shrugging, stabbing a few chips
with his fork. "I can block things out, because of my occlumency."
"So it's not like everything I tell you I'm also telling him."
"No," said Harry, shaking his head reassuringly. "Even if he
finds anything out, he's not allowed to tell another person. The bond says he's
got to protect my secrets as well as my safety. And I'm not allowed to spread
his secrets either," he added, seeing the eager look on Ron's face, which
promptly died.
"Oh, why?" said Ron, disappointedly.
"I respect the bond now," said Harry. "I know how important it
all is. It's not like he's got many weird secrets though... he's just your
average Potions master..."
Ron studied Snape for a moment, with a suspicious expression, one eyebrow
raised, almost looking thoughtfully. "Oh, I think Snape's probably got at
least one dark secret. Something that's really, really terrible. Something
worse than being an ex-Death Eater, because if he's admitted that to most
people, then he must have something even worse lined up. Maybe we'll never
know. But I can guarantee you that deep down, there's something horrible
following that guy around."
The funny thing was, that as Harry and Ron heard the bell, picked up their
things and hurried off to go and meet Hagrid down by his hut, Harry forgot all
about what Ron had said. The words were simply stored in a little box in his
brain labled, "Ron's Paranoid Theories About Snape", and then left
alone in a dusty corner somewhere, next to all the things Hermione told him
about Hogwarts: A History, Snape's constant warnings about him being just a
sixteen-year-old boy and not fit to fight Voldemort, and the photographs of Mrs
Figg's cats. And while the other three were never used ever again, the box
about Ron was opened again, two weeks later, as Harry found out that Ron was
actually right.
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Hagrid's dragons had now been at Hogwarts for two weeks. All three of them were
male, huge, scaly and terrifying to be watched by when you were trying to join
in with Care of Magical Creatures. Luckily, they had been trained not to attack
students or buildings, and so they just roamed around Hogwarts rather randomly,
like monstrous peacocks at a stately home. And every weekend after his lesson
with Professor Lupin, Harry went down to Hagrid's hut to help out with food and
bedding for the rest of the week. This typically took hours and hours, and was
the reason that Harry was found staggering up the wet lawns to the castle at
about nine o' clock at night, three weeks into September.
Having been slicing up cow carcasses all afternoon, his hands were aching, he
was covered in stains, and all he wanted to do now was stagger into Gryffindor
Tower, have a hot bath, then go to bed. He would finish all of his homework
tomorrow. His NEWT projects were all going well, and he was actually ahead of
schedule. Hermione hadn't caught up on him in Defence Against The Dark Arts or
Potions yet, and though he didn't mention it to her, he thought of this as one
of his greatest achievements to date. Hermione also seemed more comfortable
helping Ron with work now where he needed it, as he was prepared to do most of
it himself, and as far as Harry could see, their relationship was going pretty
well. He often saw them as a little like Arthur and Molly Weasley, a couple
that despite all their little fights were still perfectly happy together. Harry
was, of course, spending some time each day with Kainda too, though he was
careful to not neglect his studies. His NEWT year was easily his most important
yet, and he was determined not to mess up at the final hurdle. Kainda thought
the same way too. A few days ago, he'd set out an evening he would spend with
her, ignoring his homework for once, and as they sat in one of the window-bays
in the library, talking quietly, he couldn't help but wonder how things would
have turned out if he was still with Cho. She had left Hogwarts now, and from
what he'd last heard, was working at Madam Malkin's. He didn't quite know how
things would have been if they'd still been together. Though one thing was for
sure; he wouldn't have traded the casual, easy relationship he had with Kainda
for the world.
One couple who were receiving a great deal of attention now were Draco and
Ginny. Word had spread that they were a couple, and Draco was the talk of the
school. Harry thought he had gone the wrong way about things, by not letting
the veela scandal die down before starting his next one. Of course, Harry was
still friends with Draco and Ginny, and shared his time equally between every
single one of his friends, even if it did get a bit hectic sometimes. Harry did
notice that Draco was rather enjoying all of the attention. He went to great
lengths for public displays of affection with Ginny, most of them when Ron was
around. Though once or twice, when Ron stormed out of the room in a rage at
seeing Ginny cuddling up to Draco yet again, Harry was sure he could see a
flash of a triumphant smirk on Draco's face, before it was gone.
He thought about all of this as he made his way wearily up the stone steps of
the castle, noticing how his shoes squelched on every step, and still dreaming
about the bath waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower. He knew that Hermione often
left some of her beauty products in the Gryffindor bathrooms, and secretly,
he'd tried a few of some odd bath crystals she had. Very interesting bath crystals
they were too, and as he passed through into the entrance hall, he was hoping
she had left them out.
It was very dark in the hall, though he hardly noticed this, caught up in his
thoughts. So caught up in fact that he didn't notice the shape lying in the
middle of the floor until he caught it with his foot, and almost fell over.
"Hey!" he said, stepping back, regaining his balance, thinking it was
a cat. "Shoo, go back to your owner!"
The shape did not move. Frowning suspiciously, Harry reached into the pocket of
his robes, and drew out his wand.
"Lumos," he murmured. The little beam of light glowed from the end of
his wand, just enough for him to realise what it was lying in the middle of the
entrance hall. When he did, his mouth fell open in a silent scream, and his
wand clattered to the floor.
It was not an animal as he had first thought, but a person. A third year boy
Harry recognised as being in Gryffindor was just lying there on his back, eyes
shut, looking very pale and still. In the light of the fallen wand, Harry could
still see the wounds on his neck. It looked as though something had bitten him
there, and actually torn the skin. Blood was leaking in a slow pool around the
boy.
Panic and horror rushed through Harry. For a moment, he stood frozen to the
spot, just staring at the boy's silent face, before he realised he had to do
something. But what? He debated with himself for a moment whether he could
carry the boy to the hospital wing, or maybe even drag him, but he hadn't even
started to polish his plan when the doors of the library swung open. A figure
strolled out, her arms full of books, high-heels clicking on the marble floor.
"Potter?"
It was Madam Ivy. She took a few steps closer, frowning, her scarlet eyes
sweeping over the figure on the floor.
"What...?" she began, before she realised just what. Her eyes widened
behind her rectangular glasses, and her mouth fell open just a tiny fraction.
"Potter, did you - "
"No!" said Harry. "Of course I didn't! I just walked in and
found him here, he was just lying there, just now!"
She reached out, and grabbed one of the torches from its bracket, placing her
books down on the shelf, then hurrying over. Harry took his wand and tapped the
torch. It lit and the glow of the flames filled the entire hall, as Madam Ivy
knelt down next to the boy, studying his face, tilting his head up to reveal
his bites.
"But..." she murmured. "How could there possibly be...?"
Abandoning her thoughts, she handed Harry the torch. "Potter, take this.
We'll have to carry him to the hospital wing for the matron to deal with. Make
sure you keep your eyes open and your wand out, just in case - "
"What's going on here?" said a cold voice, as another figure swept up
from the dungeons. Snape stepped into the circle of light, frowning, his dark
eyes training onto the boy lying on the floor. Harry noticed he looked a little
dishevelled and paler than normal.
"Professor Snape," said Madam Ivy, standing up. "Potter just
found the boy lying on the floor. He has some nasty injuries to his neck. We'll
need your help to get him to the hospital wing... I believe he's a Gryffindor,
so Minerva should be informed."
Snape swept over. He bent down next to the Gryffindor, and like Madam Ivy, he
studied the bitemarks closely. Though there was an expression on Snape's face
that Madam Ivy had not worn - Harry wasn't quite sure what it was. He looked
almost pained, as though there was something deeply suspicious and worrying
about the boy.
"Mm," he murmured, quietly. "Very well. Potter and I will be
able to carry him to the hospital wing, Madam, I suggest you go and alert
Minerva to what has happened. Potter, take his legs, carefully."
Harry quickly performed a levitating charm on the torch, then bent down and
grasped the boy by the backs of his knees. Snape had him under the arms,
holding him half-way down his back. Madam Ivy was hurrying away up the marble
staircase, her long crimson cloak trailing along behind her across the floor.
"On three," said Snape, gruffly. "One. Two. Three!"
Harry lifted upwards, and between them, they managed to hoist the boy off the
ground and start to carry him towards the hospital wing. It was easy to see
where they went, by the trail of blood drops left along the floor. Snape was
still wearing that strange expression. Finally, when Harry's arms were just
starting to strain against the boy's weight, they were outside the doors of the
hospital wing. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were already waiting
there. The moment Snape and Harry approached, they pushed open the doors, and
Madam Pomfrey guided them to place the boy on one of the beds.
"Gareth Jones," said Professor McGonagall, quietly, leaning over him
and studying his wounds. "Third year... though why was he out at night,
alone? Ah." She had opened up the pockets of his robes, and extracted
quite a collection of food. "Sneaking to the kitchens for snacks."
"My goodness," Madam Pomfrey whispered. "The wounds... but...
they can't be, can they? How on earth did one get into Hogwarts?"
McGonagall was frowning darkly. "I don't know, Poppy. I don't know. There
aren't any children with such blood at Hogwarts at the moment, and I can't
imagine one roaming about the grounds then just sneaking in."
"What is it?" asked Harry, tentatively. "What's bitten
him?"
McGonagall sighed, and turned her eyes onto Harry, indicating the wounds to
him. "These sort of bites are distinctive of only one creature in this
world, Potter. The vampire." She turned to Snape. "Severus, the
castle will need to be searched, in case the attacker is still lingering in the
dungeons anywhere. Could you attend to that? Wake the other teachers, and make
sure they search in groups. Safety in numbers. Potter, I shall escort you back
to Gryffindor Tower."
Snape nodded, and before turning to leave, he glanced at Harry. His mind's
voice filled Harry's thoughts for a moment or so. "Come to my office
tomorrow night at seven o' clock."
Harry gave the merest hint of a nod to show he understood, before his magical
guardian left, and McGonagall was leading him out of the room. Harry took a
last glance back at Gareth Jones, Madam Pomfrey bending over him and daubing
some odd liquid on his bites, and he remembered that dark figure from a few
weeks ago. Was that what had attacked Gareth? And if so, where was it now?
:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:;:
Most oddly for Hogwarts, the news of what had happened to Gareth Jones didn't
get out at all. The next day, everybody went about their business as usual,
finishing homework, playing games, walking around the grounds talking and
laughing. Gareth Jones's disappearance was noted in Gryffindor Tower, but
everybody said he'd been looking ill for a few days and so nobody found it
suspicious at all. At the end of the evening meal, Harry went to ask Professor
McGonagall if they had found the vampire, though she said no, and that it was
probably one that had crept in from the forest, seen Gareth, bitten him and
fled. Harry didn't tell her about the figure in the cloak he had seen a few
weeks ago. He couldn't bring himself to shatter the safety inside the castle
for another year, though he didn't think this was a one-off attack at all.
Nothing strange that happened at Hogwarts ever went by without an explanation.
Explanations were a thing that Harry quite wanted. He hardly knew anything
about vampires. Anything living in the wizarding world could be classified as
beast, being, or spirit. Werewolves were beasts, veela were generally seen as
beasts, mermaids and centaurs were beasts, though vampires were beings the
world over. Consequently, Harry had never learnt about vampires in Defence
Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical Creatures. The subject had been
brushed upon in his first year, when Professor Quirrel stammered his way
through an explanation about the black forest, though that was it. Harry's only
other sources of information were the countless muggle films that Dudley
received for Christmas and birthdays. He'd gone through a period of liking
horror films, and watched a lot of vampire movies, which portrayed the usual
drinking blood, turning people into other vampires, and so forth. If the muggle
perception was accurate, Gareth Jones would now be a vampire. Then again,
muggles thought that gnomes carried fishing rods and lived in toadstools. That
was muggles for you.
After dinner, Ron and Hermione went off to Gryffindor Tower to play chess.
Harry glanced at his watch, and saw that it was nearly half past six. In half
an hour, he was due in Snape's office, probably for a DMT lesson or something
like that. He decided to go to the library for half an hour, and as the library
was fairly close to the dungeons, he was sure he wouldn't be late.
It was fairly empty as he walked in, except for a few first years in the corner
debating in whispers and giggles, and curled in an armchair next to the fire
was Madam Ivy. Harry wondered for a moment why she didn't read in her own
rooms, before realising she probably wasn't welcome around the Dark Arts
corridor. Lupin would have staked his territory firmly. As Harry passed her, he
glanced at the huge stack of books on the coffee table in front of her,
registering a few titles that were mostly about famous wizards through history.
Madam Ivy didn't notice him.
Harry quietly slid into the restricted section; he was sure to get better
information about vampires in there. Madam Pince was after him in a heartbeat.
"And who has given you permission to come into this section?" she
demanded, bearing down on him like a vulture with a half-dead rabbit.
He took a slip of paper out of his pocket, the one that Professor Snape had
given every NEWT Potions student. "Snape," said Harry, coolly.
Madam Pince frowned at him, her eyes narrowed, as though reluctant to accept
his excuse, though she had to let him pass. She turned, and stalked away down
the aisles of books, leaving Harry on his own. Idly, he started to look through
the various shelves. Most of the books in the restricted section were very
sinister to look at, covered in suspicious red stains, many of them with deep
slashes across the spines, a few burnt here and there. Harry cast his eyes
around, looking for anything about vampires, though another word caught his
eye. He paused and studied the shelf before him closer. It was a moment before
he realised what he had recognised, and when he did, he extended a hand and
slid one of the leather-bound black books from the bookcase. He turned it over.
Verin Maleficia's pale, swarthy face smirked out at him, and then he took the
feathered cap from his head, bowing. Harry studied the title of the book -
"A Summary of Black Blooded Beings". Wondering if it could help him
at all, Harry sat down at a nearby table and flipped the book open, scanning
the contents page. Luckily enough, there at the bottom he found what he was
looking for: vampires, on page 156.
He flicked through the book, noting the faint smell of smoke that it gave off,
until page 156 flopped open before him. He grimaced a little at the picture
which greeted him, a vampire taking blood from what Verin Maleficia had
described as a "donor", but Harry thought of more as a
"victim". He turned the page, and scanned through a list of helpful
summary points.
VAMPIRES : Vampire gene passed on through blood, not biting another : Blood
Night is time of first taking blood : Enhanced physical strength : Enhanced
senses, can lead to problems with light and temperature : Must drink blood to
survive : Similar lifespan to wizards, 200-220 years
Harry noted all this down in his memory. It all seemed to make decent sense,
and he could see things that had been adapted into muggle folklore. Obviously,
the muggles would have noticed a very strong person that didn't like light and
lived longer than most people remembered. Idly, Harry flicked over the page, and
found another of Verin Maleficia's charming little drawings. This time, it was
a child vampire, a boy with messy brown hair, taking blood from what was
probably his father. Harry had to take a second look at the picture. The father
didn't seem to be in any pain, and the boy certainly didn't look malicious at
all.
He scanned through the text, his eyes naturally picking out phrases that were
important or interesting; "Drinking blood requires a willing donor,
contrary to muggle fiction"; "Human blood is most beneficial to the
vampire, though animal can be used instead to satisfy cravings";
"Families of vampires often share blood with one another and the condition
is certainly not an affliction".
Harry read on for a little while, letting his eyes wander vaguely across the
page and not really taking any of it in. Only when Madam Pince came stalking
over to ask what he was doing in the restricted section so long did he decide
to go. He was a few minutes early, but it was better than being late. He put
the book back on the shelf, and left the library, passing Madam Ivy on his way
out. She didn't notice him.
He pulled his cloak around himself as he entered the dungeons and made his way
around the cold, dark corridors. He sincerely hoped that somebody had actually
checked the dungeons for any hints of a vampire. He knew that if he was a
vampire, sensitive to light and heat and looking for somewhere to hide, it
would be the perfect place. Though luckily, he made his way to Snape's chambers
without seeing any cloaked figures or bodies pooled in blood. He lifted his
hand, and only managed to knock once on the door before it swung open and he
was hauled in.
"How exactly do you know when I'm outside?" Harry asked, as Snape
shut the door after him quickly.
"I know from the moment you step into the dungeons and breach my
wards," said Snape, calmly. "Sit down then, Potter, make yourself at
home."
Harry sat in his usual armchair, took off his cloak, and handed it to Snape.
The Potions master hung it carefully on the wall by the door, as Harry asked,
"So how come you wanted to see me? I don't have DMT on a Sunday now, do
I?"
"No, you don't," said Snape. He moved out of sight behind Harry's
chair, and apparently started making drinks. He didn't answer the first
question.
A few moments later, he reappeared, and handed Harry a cup of tea. Harry took
it with a smile, which was not returned. Snape looked oddly edgy as he sat down
in front of Harry in another armchair, and he didn't sink into it as usual,
proclaiming his territory. He sat on it as though he was waiting for something
that would be arriving very soon. Harry had spend enough time around Snape out
of lessons to know what that odd posture meant; Snape was about to do or say
something important, and didn't know how to go about it.
The Potions master stood up just a few seconds after he had sat down, and
walked around to the back of his chair, toying with his chin. Harry was
starting to get rather nervous himself now, watching Snape behave so oddly.
"The attack, Potter. On the Gryffindor. Last night."
Harry looked up from his tea, watching Snape pace agitatedly across the room.
"You mean Gareth? What about him?"
Snape looked even more agitated. A lock of sleek black hair fell in front of
his eyes as he turned on his heel to retrace his path. He frowned, pushed it
back irritably, and continued. "It was you who found him first?"
Harry nodded, wordlessly. Snape retraced his steps across the room yet again.
He seemed to need something to do with his hands, as they kept alternating
between scooping his hair off his face and knotting behind his back.
"In the entrance hall...?"
"Well, yes... just at the bottom of the marble staircase."
Snape's hand seemed to feather slightly as it raked his hair out of his eyes
again. "Mm. Close, very close. Though I don't see-... I can't..." He
sighed. Pausing in his anxious pacing, he turned to face Harry, curling his
fingers fretfully around the back of the armchair. "Potter, there is
something you must know. Something that I NEED you to know; for my own good,
for your own good, for the well-being of the rest of the school."
Harry watched his hand restlessly push another lock of hair behind his ear. It
was only then that Harry realised something that in normal circumstances would
have advertised to him immediately - Snape's hair was not greasy and limp as
usual, but sleek and almost shiny. In fact, Snape just looked different in
general. His skin, though still waxy white, did not look greasy and sallow
anymore. A few wrinkles about his eyes had seemingly vanished, and suddenly,
Snape had cheekbones too. What was going on?
"I-... my family, Potter... something less than admirable has been passed
down through the male family line, and... it has never been a problem before,
though-..."
Harry's mind floated dimly back to Grimmauld Place, and gazing down at Snape's
family tree. The male line. Tracing Snape back through fathers, each man marked
with a black B and a date.
Harry was very quiet. He looked up at Snape, and subconsciously, his muscles
were already tensing.
"B doesn't stand for birth date on your family tree, does it?" Harry
said, his voice little more than a whisper.
Snape shook his head wordlessly.
There was silence for a moment, then Harry asked, quietly, even though he already
knew what the answer must be. "Then what does...?"
"Blood Night," Snape murmured.
Harry's armchair hit the floor, he got up so quickly, and the cup of tea
shattered as it fell. Before Snape could stop him, Harry bolted for the door.
He had to get out. Desperately, he grabbed at the handle and tugged
frantically, pleading with it to open, but then cold fingers twisted around his
wrist. With un-natural strength that Harry now understood, he was turned around
and both his wrists were pinned against the door. Harry tensed and shrunk back.
"Don't!!" he cried. His shoulders hunched up, trying to protect his
neck. "Please...!!"
Snape made a quiet noise, and said, seriously, "I can't, Harry, listen to
me. I need you to calm down."
"Let me go," Harry pleaded, desperately, trying to pull away,
struggling against Snape's iron grip. "The b-bond... you can't, it won't
let you, leave me alone...!"
"Harry," said Snape, his grip tightening on Harry's wrists. "I'm
not going to bite you. I wouldn't be able to. And nor would I want to."
"Because you know I'll tell them," said Harry, frantically.
"I'll go right to Dumbledore, and I'll tell him what attacked Gareth! It
was you! That's why you were there so quickly when me and Madam Ivy found
him!"
"I did not attack that boy," Snape said, dangerously serious. "I
have never taken blood from a human, never. Please listen to me, Harry. There
is not a single person alive in this world that knows about my...
condition..."
"Then why are you telling me?" said Harry, looking up at him,
confused and afraid.
Snape studied him for a moment, before letting go of Harry's wrists. "Take
a seat," he said, rather gently, leading Harry over to the armchair again
and lifting it back up off the floor. "This could take a while to explain."
Harry sunk into the armchair numbly. Snape managed to fix the tea-cup and clean
up the spillage with a wave of his wand, then dragged his own chair closer and
sat in front of Harry. Harry looked back at him, unsure of what to think any
more.
"Before I say another word, I need you to believe and trust me when I tell
you that I did not attack that boy. I have never taken human blood before, and
I assure you that if I want to, I'm not going to stalk Hogwarts students."
Harry looked down at his hands, and then back up at his guardian. He saw truth
in Snape's eyes, and Harry could say that now he'd grown up and was wiser about
the world, he trusted his instincts. His instincts said that Snape would never
give up his dignity and attack a student, no matter how hungry he was. He
didn't need to even tell Snape he believed him. The professor just knew. They
sat quietly for a moment, before Harry asked, "So... what do you need help
with?"
"There's a responsibility I want you to undertake," said Snape. He
looked a great deal more like his usual calm, logical self now that Harry
believed him. "For seventeen years, I've been making sure you do nothing
dangerous. I'm calling in the favour." He reached into his pocket, and
extracted two thin silver chains, each with a dog tag. Harry sat calmly as
Snape moved forward into his chair, and after a moment of working at the clasp,
removed Harry's hated collar. Snape had put it on the night before they came
back to Hogwarts, and Harry hadn't realised just how much he hated it until it
was off, and Snape had put it away in his pocket.
"I decided that collars are perhaps a little primitive and
impractical," said Snape, idly, as he looped the chain around Harry's
neck.
"You mean, you don't want to wear one but know I'll get sulky if I still
have to," said Harry, with a smile.
Snape's lips curled into a smile for a moment, before he managed to fight it
away. "Of course not, Potter, don't be so ridiculous. Though if you still
want your collar, just say the word and I'll put it back on, especially
tight."
"No, that's okay. So how come you've got one too now?"
Snape handed the other chain to Harry. Harry put it around his neck as he
answered. "The main reason my condition hasn't been a problem for these
years is because there's nothing around to remind me of it. Though after that
attack, it's going to be on my mind for at least a few weeks. The chain is just
a precaution, in case I do something dangerous that I shouldn't. You'll know if
I do, and you can use the same method of shocks as I still have to use on you
sometimes. Though please remember," he said, seeing the look on Harry's
face, "that if you decided to shock me awake in the middle of the night I
will not be pleased."
"I'll remember that," said Harry. He looked down at his new chain,
and studied the dog-tag for a moment, tracing his fingers over the metal.
"Um... Professor?"
"Yes, Potter?"
"Can I... ask some questions?"
"You may. Whether I answer them or not remains to be seen."
"How long have you been a vampire?" asked Harry, looking up at him
curiously.
"Forever," said Snape. "I was born this way. You saw for
yourself on my family tree... the blood has been passed down through the male
line of my family, though it will die with me - the last Snape."
"And you had your Blood Night when you were fifteen. But didn't you drink
blood before then? How come you didn't need it?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Snape smiled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been researching
this, Potter. A vampire only starts relying on blood to survive after their
Blood Night, though the later the first time is done, the more frequently the
vampire will need blood in later life. If a baby is given blood at just a few
hours old, they will only need to drink it every few months, though if the process
is left to around the age of twenty, a vampire could need feeding every
day."
"How often...?"
"Twice a month."
"But you don't... not a human... so what do...?"
"That does not matter," said Snape, calmly.
Harry got the message that the question would not be answered, and so asked
another. "What else can you do? I mean like... special powers? Can you
turn into a bat?"
Snape smirked at that. "Muggle rumour, Potter, started by one of my
ancestors. He was an animagus, a bat, and made the mistake of transforming in
front of a muggle, who promptly told everybody else." He sat back in his
chair. "I have better senses than most people, and an extra sense that
cats also have. A cross between taste and smell, on the roof of my mouth behind
the fangs, and - "
"But you don't have fangs," said Harry. "I've seen your teeth
before, and they're pretty normal."
Snape curled back his upper lip, and Harry's mouth fell as the Potions master's
canines lengthened before his eyes, becoming sharper, inching over his lower
lip. Snape shut his mouth and smirked again. As he talked, Harry could see that
his teeth had returned to normal. "They evolved to be retractable
centuries ago. No doubt they were such an inconvenience before that somebody
changed them, rather wisely. Other powers... greatly increased physical
strength, for one. Stealth, for another. And though it isn't exactly a power,
sensitivity to light and heat."
Harry nodded. He wasn't sure why he didn't feel scared of Snape. After all,
he'd just discovered the man he was supposed to trust with his life was
actually a vampire, and the idea of vampires scared most people senseless.
Perhaps it was that Snape just looked different to the vampires Harry had seen
face-to-face, the ones Voldemort had brought to the siege. Harry glanced at
Snape, remembering something, and eyeing his hair, wondering if he dared to ask
why he suddenly looked so...
"... much better than normal?" said Snape. Harry jolted, realising
that he'd had his mind wide open, and Snape had been following his train of
thought. He grinned apologetically, though Snape wasn't offended. "I
always do after feeding," he shrugged.
"After feeding?" said Harry, looking at him swiftly.
"Ah, yes... well, Potter, I hate to inform you, but you weren't the first
person to find Gareth Jones. I was."
"And you... you fed from...?"
"No. I panicked."
Harry, who couldn't quite imagine Snape panicking but let it pass, gave him a
prompting look to continue.
"I recognised it as a vampire attack the moment I saw him," said
Snape, idly, as though they were discussing the weather. "If there is one
thing that scares a vampire, it is another vampire. We are naturally
territorial, as werewolves are. If another werewolf arrived at Hogwarts, Remus
Lupin would know about it immediately and one of them would most probably end
up dead within weeks. Vampires are a little more tolerant though. Yet the idea
of another vampire lurking around in the entrance hall conjured some...
unpleasant memories for me. I went back to my chambers, and tried to pretend I
hadn't seen anything. I fed. Then when I heard the commotion in the entrance
hall, I came to investigate."
Harry was quiet, thinking of something. Seeing Professor Lupin in such an
uncharacteristic moment of anger, at something as simple as a few hairs in his
office.
Snape noticed Harry's silence, and said, "Problem, Potter?"
"Professor Lupin doesn't like Madam Ivy," said Harry, glancing up at
him.
"Very few people are trustworthy of new staff who come to Hogwarts with a
recommendation by Cornelius Fudge," said Snape. "Particularly
Lupin."
"But Alrister hates Fudge," said Harry. "And he's alright with
Madam Ivy. You don't think... she's a werewolf, do you?"
"She isn't," said Snape, shaking his head. "Nor is she a
vampire, before you suggest it. Madam Ivy is human."
"How do you know?" asked Harry.
"She smells as vile as all the others," said Snape, with a little
smirk.
Harry wasn't quite sure whether to be insulted or not. "So you can tell
what somebody is? Did you know about Draco?"
"I did," said Snape, calmly.
"Why didn't you know what Lupin was? You only found out in their fifth
year."
Snape was quiet for a moment, before he said, calmly, "At the age of
eleven, I realised from the first time I came across him that Remus Lupin was
not human. Though I had never smelt anything apart from human and vampire.
Naturally, I thought he was a vampire. I made the mistake of following him
around to try and find out if he was indeed a vampire, though Potter took a
dislike to me and fended me off."
"Sorry about that," said Harry, apologetically.
Snape gave a soft huff of laughter. "I gave up making you pay for your
father's crimes last year. There is no need to apologise."
"When did you actually first meet my dad?" asked Harry, realising he'd
never asked this. "And how come you hated each other? I mean... one of you
must have done something to the other."
"Hatred never requires a reason," said Snape, wisely. "The
smallest thing, such as the way somebody looks or speaks, can prompt a lifelong
loathing on both parts. Your father was suspicious and wary of me ever since
our first train journey to Hogwarts. He already had a multitude of friends,
right from the start, while I had nobody."
"What about Lucius Malfoy?" asked Harry.
"Malfoy had better things to do than entertain me," said Snape, with
a small smile. "Chasing females, for one. Like father like son." He
glanced at the clock on the wall, and said, "It's getting late, Potter. I
shall escort you back to your dormitory now, if you don't mind. DMT lesson,
tomorrow."
"What are we doing?" Harry asked, as he stood up and pulled his cloak
back on.
"Manipulation of the senses."
"Wow, that sounds fascinating."
"Did my ears deceive me, Potter, or was that your first successful use of
sarcasm?"
"Did my ears deceive me, Sir, or was that a pretty rubbish attempt at
humour?"
Snape smirked, clipped him around the ear, rather gently it had to be said, and
lead him out of the office.
