"Something's been bothering you, Harry, I can see it in your eyes," said Lupin. "Come on, tell me what it is and I'll try to help."

They were sitting near the window in the living-room, drinking coffee which Sirius had brought.

Harry frowned. "I'm not sure," he said. "I've been feeling a bit weird lately. Almost as if I'm rippling with energy."

Sirius looked concerned. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Ever since I drank from Lestat."

During the way, at one point, Voldemort had mortally injured Harry. Fawkes was not there to help him. But Lestat was.

Lestat had given Harry his powerful vampire blood so that the Boy who Lived could keep on living.

Lupin appeared to be deep in thought. Ron was white with terror. Hermione was perplexed. After a moment of awkward silence, Lupin asked, "What kind of experiences are you having exactly?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry, looking doubtful. "At times, I can pick up a thought from people around me. I can't always do it. Then once, two days ago, I was sitting alone near the lake and looking at a leaf on the ground, wondering what it would be like if it were on fire. And then…it caught fire. And I hadn't even put a spell on it!"

Hermione bit her lip. "This has something to do with Lestat's blood, hasn't it?" she said.

"Possibly," said Lupin. "Vampires of Lestat's species have certain telepathic abilities. They can read minds, are telekinetic and can cause spontaneous combustion. Their blood also has certain healing properties." He looked at Harry. "Did Lestat drink from you?"

"I don't think so," said Harry.

Ron spoke up. "I remember seeing Lestat lick the blood off Harry's wounds," he said.

"Have you been thinking about Lestat lately?" asked Sirius.

"No," said Harry quickly. The he added tentatively: "Well, sometimes, I think of him. I can actually feel his presence, almost as if he were here at Hogwarts."

"That explains it!" Hermione said excitedly. "I read that when vampires and humans exchange blood, it creates a certain bond between them!"

This information did not make Harry feel any better. "Is that a bad thing?" he asked tentatively.

Remus frowned. "Probably not; many witches and warlocks have drunk from vampires to enhance their powers. I think that you are just becoming a greater wizard."

"Wicked," grinned Ron, looking impressed.

"I think we should try to find out what else Harry can do with his new powers," said Sirius wisely. "Maybe it's a good sign of you becoming stronger; but we need to find out a way to help you use your powers, if necessary, control them."

* * *

Magical Fine Arts wasn't as interesting as it sounded. It mostly consisted of having to sit in front of an image for long hours, trying to sketch or paint it with special pencils and colors.

Snape stood in the corner while the students concentrated on painting the flower vase before them. If all went well, then the painted would show the flowers moving in the vase. Simple things first.

Snape considered himself a great artist (and sculptor). He was proud of the fact that he'd painted most of the moving pictures at Hogwarts. Some might find it amusing but few knew that as a matter of fact, he'd painted the Fat Lady for Gryffindor house.

Painting and sculpting were his hobbies (next to making Potions, of course). But right now, even though he was teaching a class the only thing on his mind was Hermione.

Sometimes he wondered how she'd managed to bewitch him thus. Usually he was in perfect control of himself but when he was with Hermione, that was a different story. He absently complimented Malfoy's work, wishing that Hermione was taking Magical Fine Arts. Damn.

Was there any way he could talk her into it? Severus, you cannot even be considering this! But the temptation was far too great. Mind your own business.

Here he was, teaching a class on a Saturday morning when all he wanted to do was sit next to Hermione, drape his arms around her and listen to her heartbeat.

"Try to put some more color to the flowers, Miss Parkinson," said Snape. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to imagine what it would be like to have Hermione here right now. He had no doubt she would do well in Magical Fine Arts, had she signed up for it.

He'd often seen her upset during class or at mealtimes, or in the corridor with Potter and Weasely and he guessed that she wasn't over Viktor Krum yet.

From experience, he knew that first love was something one could not forget so easily. But sooner or later, Hermione would have to get over Krum and move on with her love-life. She was sweet, intelligent and accomplished and no doubt, better men would notice her. She would meet a wonderful, worthy man, get married, raise a family, have a career at the same time and…oh, he was making himself jealous by thinking all this!

One more year, Severus. One more year and she'll be gone and your life will be much better.

But how could he live without her?