Draco Malfoy poked his head around the door. Snape hurriedly hid his wand behind his voluminous robes, but not fast enough. A sly smile played across Draco's lips, as he pushed the door open.
"Evening, Potter. Hope you haven't been going easy on him, Professor."
Harry was still too wound up to even tell Malfoy to shut up, when Snape saved him the trouble:
"Get in here," he barked, "Potter..."
He paused for a moment, as though carefully choosing his words.
"Your Potions scores remain abysmal. I expect better next time we meet," he said quietly.
He leaned across his desk, and his eyes seemed to bore holes straight through Harry's head:
"And don't you [I]dare[/I] go to Miss Granger for the answers, Mr. Potter. Because if you talk to anyone...[I]I'll know.[/I]"
"I know," Harry said, nodding, "I won't."
He grabbed the strap of his book bag, and beat a hasty retreat, closing the door firmly behind him.
He entered the common room to find Hermione and Ron seated comfortably on opposite ends of the rich, maroon couch, various Potions books and assorted half-empty bags of candy spread between them.
"Errr...dragon...scale?"
"Which kind?" Hermione asked, her irresistible smile creeping in at the corners.
"Norwegian...no...Chinese Fireball?"
Hermione grinned, and began fishing around in her bag of Bertie Botts.
"Yes!" Ron said, making a celebratory fist.
"Grass alright?"
"Mmm," Ron said, "Reminds me of Quidditch."
"Ah!" she announced officiously, and chucked a small green one at Ron's open mouth. It bounced off of his chin onto his homework.
"Nice aim," he teased, popping it into his mouth.
"Nice save! Aren't you a Keeper?" she teased.
"Err..." Harry said, scratching an itch on his neck.
"Harry!" Hermione said, blushing slightly as she noticed he'd arrived, "We were just going over some Potions. How'd it go with Snape?"
Harry hesistated. Snape's secret seemed to be dancing on the tip of his tongue...he thought he'd burst if he couldn't at least tell Hermione...
"If you go to Miss Granger for the answers..."
"Nothing," Harry lied, "I – saw a rat."
"The school's full of rats."
"I...er...thought it might be Pettigrew," Harry lied swiftly.
"You what?!"
Ron and Hermione were on their feet, books scattered, Bertie Botts all over the floor.
"It's okay!" Harry lied, holding up a hand, "I err...caught him. He had all of his fingers. Err, toes. Just a rat."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked slowly. Harry broke eye contact quickly. She knew something was up.
"And I did the Apparecium. S'fine. Gotta go to bed, I'm knackered," Harry lied, already half-way up the stairs.
"Oi! Don't you want dinner?" Ron called up after him.
"Not feeling well!" Harry said, closing the door behind him.
Harry spent the next day of classes in an absolute daze. He found himself looking over his shoulder for Professor Snape in the hallway, terrified by the thought that he'd catch him unawares and Obliviate his memory.
Harry had never expended much thought on the memory charm, other than to wish it might be performed on him – there were plenty of things he'd prefer to forget. Or at least he thought he did. Now that it had nearly been performed on him, he began to realize just how precious his memories were, even the unpleasant ones – they were what made him Harry.
"Hello?" Ron asked irritably, "Are you staying, or what?"
"Hmm? Sorry, staying?" Harry asked, realizing that he still hadn't touched any of his lunch.
Ron sighed exasperatedly, and Hermione gave him another worried, suspicious look.
"For Christmas break, Harry," she asked, "Are you staying here or going to Grimmauld place?"
"Oh," Harry said, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He hadn't even thought about it – he knew he wasn't going to the Dursleys, that much was for sure. And while the property did belong to him in name, he didn't know if Lupin or Dumbledore would think that was such a good idea. The idea of his no longer being welcome at Grimmauld place, made his empty stomach sink, as though he'd just swallowed a lead weight.
"I dunno if I'm allowed," he said doubtfully, "Now that Sirius...Well."
"Lupin would let you if you asked – that's where we're going," Ron prompted gently, "You know Mum would love to have you. You haven't really been yourself, you know. It'd be good for you to get away from Hogwarts for a while."
Harry blinked owlishly – Ron really wasn't as dumb as he liked to let on...maybe it was having so many brothers, or a little sister to take care of, but every once in a while he'd surprise Harry by being much more mature than he normally acted.
"Ron, that's the most sensitive, intelligent thing you've ever said," Hermione said, sounding more shocked than complimentary.
"I'm not totally useless, you know," Ron replied huffily, scooping up a massive spoonful of mashed potatoes.
Harry returned to his introspection, and remained lost in his own thoughts (or rather, Snape's thoughts) for the next several days. What was worse, his inability to clear his mind led to some really nasty nightmares – angry Sirius, angry James and Lily, Ron dying, Hermione dying, Ginny or Neville dying...Some nights he woke with his scar searing, still believing he was in the Department of Mysteries, until the red bed hangings reassured him. Other nights, he woke with only a sinking feeling in his stomach, convinced that he was standing in the Transfiguration corridor, Ron lying dead at his feet.
Not even Quidditch could cheer him up. Ravenclaw had a very narrow victory over Slytherin, with a difference of only ten points – seeing as Ravenclaw had also beat Hufflepuff, that left Gryffindor with a slim shot at the Quidditch Cup, so long as they beat both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuff, by some miracle, managed to beat Slytherin. A fact which the entire Gryffindor team courteously pointed out to Harry by whooping, hollering, shooting sparks out of their wands, and in general, inciting a riot in the Gryffindor stands. He tried with all his might to muster a genuine smile, but he couldn't help feeling it was an empty victory – after all, they were just lucky that Ravenclaw was strong this year. They still had two tough matches to go.
He led the last D.A. meeting of the semester as though sleepwalking, simply pacing about the room, saying, "Nice work," or "No, like this." Fortunately, they were working on the Patronus charm. Even if they couldn't quite jar him out of his contemplative funk, he at least found the strange, luminescent menagerie slightly comforting. The older members had pretty much mastered corporeal Patroni – Hermione's otter tussled playfully with Ron's lion (a breakthrough), while Cho's swan glided gracefully about the room. Neville had managed some massive shape that he identified, blushing, as an elephant, and Ginny had some kind of mid-size cat...a lynx, or a bobcat, or something, but nobody could quite tell. Padma had mastered a large raven, while Parvati was still working on hers. Zacharias Smith managed a peacock, to no one's surprise, and Justin Finch-Fletchy was utterly dismayed to find that his was a pig.
"It's more of a boar, really," Luna said, in an attempt to be comforting, as her march hare gamboled about her feet, "It's kind of sweet."
"Don't help, Luna," Justin said mopily, "It's a pig, and that's all there is too it."
"Well, I've heard they're really smart!" Hermione said, trying not to smile, "And surprisingly clean."
All the rest were still only producing light, but Seamus claimed his was a monkey, but he couldn't do it in front of people.
Harry glided through midterms like a ghost, only surfacing to answer questions when called upon, or respond to his friends' concerns robotically. Fortunately there was plenty of studying to do, so he took a leaf out of Hermione's book, so to speak, and barricaded himself behind stacks of notes and library books. He took to skipping breakfast, and sleeping as late as he possibly dared, so he wouldn't have to face Ron and his other roommates' concern. He even was shocked at his own unwillingness to meet Hermione's eyes, which were constantly searching him for the source of his withdrawal. He was afraid to talk to anyone – because if he were to start talking, he felt as though Snape's secret was bound to come spilling out of him, it was so close to the surface.
"And if that comes spilling out," Harry felt, more than thought, "Who knows what else would?"
Keeping secrets...he had hated keeping the Prophecy a secret. He had hated trying to hide his painful or embarrassing thoughts from Snape during Occlumency...and now, he hated this new secret with a passion. He felt as though each year, brick by brick, a wall was built between himself and the surrounding world. It was simultaneously comforting and claustrophobic, just as his cupboard under the stairs had been, and he both needed it and resented it.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was nearly over. It was Friday, and having already finished their nastily exhausting midterms the day before, everyone was looking forward to heading home at the end of the day. Everyone was too busy chatting and passing notes to pay attention anyway, so Harry figured his lack of attentiveness would go relatively unnoticed. He wasn't that lucky, however.
As usual, Seamus had his eye on his watch, and as he cheerfully shouldered his school bag, the class erupted into a ragged cheer.
"Everyone, have a nice break!" Lupin called cheerfully, now back to his rightful place in front of the class, the mirror stowed safely in the corner, "Remember, a foot on Hexes by the time we get back! Be safe! And?"
"Constant vigilance!" the class replied, as they bottlenecked at the door.
"Harry!" said Lupin more quietly, "I wonder if I might have a word?"
Harry walked back to Lupin's desk, and was surprised to see Ron and Hermione beating a hasty retreat.
"Where are you lot going?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Packing," Ron said, "I've got stuff all over the place."
"Me too," Hermione said, she was a horrible liar – Harry knew she always spoke a bit too loudly when she was lying, and she was turning a bit pink...she'd never have stuff all over the place...in fact, she'd probably been packed for days.
"We'll meet you for dinner," Ron said with a friendly nod.
"Well, now that I've got you to myself," Lupin said, seating himself at his desk.
Harry frowned. This was all a bit too choreographed. He smelled a sting operation.
"Did Hermione put you up to this?" he asked, point-blank.
"Harry, they're just worried about you, both of them. Hermione and Ron came to me after class on Wednesday, and told me how strangely you'd been acting. I was wondering..."
Lupin sighed, and leaned back in his chair.
"Well, quite frankly, there's just so many things that might be bothering you, I figured I'd better just ask which one it was, and see if there was anything I could do to help."
Harry felt the secret pressing up against his tongue, his teeth – "Snape is vampire. Snape is a vampire. SNAPE IS A VAMPIRE!"
But a sudden thought occurred to him – surely Lupin knew? Was there some way he could tell Lupin...without telling him?
"Go on," Lupin said, leaning forward, and eyeing Harry warmly, "I can see whatever it is that you want to tell me."
"That's just it," Harry said, helplessly, "I promised I wouldn't."
"Maybe you could just sort of talk around it," Lupin said, a casual smile playing on his lips, "And I could figure it out."
Harry wrinkled his brow suspiciously, "Are you [I]sure[/I] you're a Hogwarts teacher?"
Lupin laughed out loud.
"James and Sirius had lots of secrets, but James was horrible at keeping them. For any of his character flaws, James was honest," Lupin laughed, "We played this game all the time. More often than not, I figured it out in five minutes...Just tell me in general terms."
"Well," Harry began hesitantly, "There's this...person. Who's...not what he seems to be."
"Hmm. Is this person a friend of yours?"
"No!" Harry said immediately, "No way!"
"Hmm...does he have blond hair?" Lupin asked, his eyes narrowing.
"No," Harry said, uncomfortably.
Suddenly, Lupin's eyebrows shot up.
"Aaaah..." he said, "Right. A professor, then? Looms about the castle like an old bat?" He allowed himself a smile, "Pointy teeth?"
Harry squirmed guiltily. He still felt like he'd tattled. He wondered if Snape would figure it out.
Lupin took out his wand, and flicked it casually at the door.
"[I]Ferma. Impeturbatus.[/I]"
The door clicked shut, locked itself, and the noise from the hallway suddenly ceased. Lupin leaned casually on his elbows.
"Harry, you don't need to feel guilty for coming to me. I already knew – which you've probably figured out by now. The entire staff knows. And now, so do you. I hope, however," he added, his expression becoming stern, "You weren't snooping about."
"No," Harry said, honestly, "Really, it just...happened."
Lupin nodded reassuringly, "I believe you, Harry. As a matter of fact, Professor Snape and Dumbledore, along with myself, were worried for a while that this might happen as a result of your Occlumency lessons – it's one of the many reasons Professor Snape wasn't keen to continue them. He was embarrassed when you glimpsed his past last year – but moreso, he was frightened by what you hadn't seen...hadn't seen, but might have. No matter how much he puts into that Pensieve, there's always stray memories, overlayed memories, or memories that are simply too strong to be removed that you might have stumbled upon."
"But...he's dangerous!" Harry said, synapses firing, "How can he—"
"[I]I'm[/I] dangerous, Harry. You're dangerous. Anyone can be dangerous. Peter—"
He stopped himself, and took a slow, even breath.
"Peter Pettigrew is enough to convince you of that. A mild-mannered wizard of very little talent...no extraordinary abilities to speak of, other than the Animagus ability, of course...but look at how dangerous he was. No, Professor Snape is no more or less dangerous than any of us. Though try telling that to him," he added irritably, "He still seems convinced I'm going to be the ruin of this place."
"The legislation..." Harry said, information clicking into place, "That's why he was rubbing it in your face – it didn't apply to vampires. And...and you're a werewolf, and he's a vampire...Is that what you meant about 'family business,' and why you hate each other so much?"
"Yes," Lupin said, smiling, "You should know this from your reading, but vampires and werewolves are ancient, nearly instinctual enemies. I've tried to extend the olive branch, of course," Lupin mused, leaning back in his chair, and looking out the window, "But...well, perhaps I haven't been trying as hard as I might."
"I thought you might figure it out in Hagrid's class...I know Miss Granger did. Hagrid nearly let the bat out of the bag during his class, when he went on about the new legislation. He'd invited Professor Snape, actually, be he refused – no great surprise there. I'm often amazed by Hagrid's patience," Lupin mused.
"Why?" Harry asked, angrily, "Why doesn't it apply to vampires? Snape's been treating you like dirt this whole time – He's the one who betrayed your secret! Why should I..."
But he stopped himself. He knew he'd never betray that secret. As tempting as it would be to pay Snape back for what he's done, he realized, to his own annoyance, that he could never do something that malicious.
"'Non-human' and all that nonsense," Harry muttered irritatedly, "What's that supposed to mean, anyway? He's just as non-human as you are!"
"Ah," Lupin said raising a finger, "Not so, actually. This is another sticky, fidgety legal thing, Harry. You see, vampires are really just another type of human, apparently."
"What?!" Harry asked, still trying to absorb everything.
"The Ministry tries not to interfere with vampires," Lupin sighed sadly, "Because you can't very well fault them – they need to eat, after all. Also, unlike werewolves, they keep their mind at all times. Besides that, true vampires are basically immortal – there's not much punishment you can devise for an immortal. After all, a prison term is like having to wait in a queue at the bank for them. And to sentence them to life – well, that's just silly... 'An eternity' isn't a feasible jail sentence, in part because it's unenforceable."
"But vampires kill people! And what do you mean, immortal?" Harry said, his head whirling, "Snape was young...I've seen him young!"
"One question at a time, Harry. First of all, a vampire doesn't need to kill its victim in order to feed. They can also survive on non-human blood, however unpalatable that might be. You know," he admonished playfully, "we did cover some of this in third year. You'll remember that after Professor Snape assigned his werewolves essay, I decided to spend a unit on vampires?"
"Refresh my memory," Harry said wearily, sitting at a nearby desk, and feeling thoroughly idiotic. Lupin laughed.
"You needn't be so hard on yourself, Harry. Professor Snape is very good at guarding his secret."
"Hermione figured it out," Harry said, mopily, "She probably had a hunch as soon as you set the essay."
"Probably," Lupin said, smiling, "But stop kicking yourself for just a moment so I can answer some of your questions."
"Alright," Harry said, "What do you mean 'basically immortal?'"
"Well," Lupin explained, "A true vampire can't be killed except by prolonged exposure to direct sunlight, or by severe trauma to the heart. Which sounds a bit silly to me, quite frankly," Lupin said wryly, "As a stake through the heart would kill just about anything."
"A stake through the heart?" Harry said weakly.
"Well," Lupin said, shaking his head, "Not necessarily. Any direct damage to the heart will do it, really. And none of that crosses and garlic and holy water nonsense does any good either. Though they do have a mild allergic reaction to garlic," Lupin said, his eyes glazing over fondly, "Which your father and Sirius delighted in taking advantage of."
"They [I]knew?[/I]" Harry asked, incredulously.
His father's voice echoed in his head:
"It's more the fact that he [I]exists,[/I] really..."
"Vampires have always been viewed as dark creatures," Lupin said, his voice dropping nearly to a whisper. His face suddenly looked so old. "As have werewolves. You can imagine how much it pained me that your father and Sirius couldn't draw the parallel – I was fine, because they already knew me – but they hated him practically on instinct, and when they found out that he...well, of course, they hated him for a lot of other reasons too," he admitted.
"So...okay," Harry said, spurring his brain to catch up, "This still doesn't fit...Snape's been out in the sunlight – he refereed that Quidditch game! And...and the immortality bit! He was young once...and it wasn't that long ago!"
"Yes, yes!" Lupin said, smiling as he held up a hand.
"And the mirror!" Harry added hurriedly, "I know he has a reflection—"
"Yes, yes, let me catch up with you!" Lupin admonished gently, "First off, you have to remember our unit on werewolves...Consider the moon light clause– You [I]have[/I] to be directly in the light of the full moon. Just like the silver bullet thing – you can make the bullet out of silver, iron, or your grandmother's wedding ring for all I care, the fact remains, if you get shot in the chest, you're liable to die," Lupin said frankly, "Yes, fine, it is possible for someone with LRS to develop blood poisoning from silver, but still, not quite as dramatic as myth would have us believe, is it? You have to consider, Harry, that much of what you hear about vampires or werewolves is filtered through Muggles, and is largely myth and hearsay."
"Fine," Harry said, "So what's true and what's not?"
"The reflection thing is totally bunk," Lupin said, counting off on his fingers, "Sunlight...A true vampire can die from prolonged exposure to sunlight, but it's rare that happens...they usually have to be tied down. An ancient method of vampire execution. Let's see – garlic is just an allergic reaction, I told you that...Err..."
"Immortality?" Harry prompted.
"Ah, yes. True vampires, aside from those few weaknesses, are essentially immortal—"
"What do you mean 'true vampires?'" Harry asked tentatively, "Is Snape...some kind of...false vampire?"
"Well," Lupin said, "He's only half-vampire. Plus, he's never been bitten by a vampire himself. His father was a vampire."
"His father?" Harry frowned, "But...I think he might have..."
His mind wandered back to the dark man, who was beating a young Severus – the man who he'd...Harry shuddered just to think of it. But...no, he couldn't have been a vampire...And more importantly, could he really talk about this with Lupin?
"Err, yes," Lupin said awkwardly, "Now this is where Snape's business truly ceases to be my business. Hang on a moment."
Lupin rummaged in his desk briefly, and handed Harry what seemed like an ancient book – the cover was tattered and worn – it had been re-attached with Spello-tape many times. Harry read the front cover aloud:
"Bloodlines in Non- or Partial- Human Witches and Wizards: Being a Treatise by Messr. Romulus Noxiadentum On Matters of Descendancy and Transference of Lycanthropy and Vampirism, An Unbiased Exploration of the Strengths and Weaknesses Resulting from said Bloodlines, and Containing a Brief Discussion of the Social and Legal Ramifications of Said Distinctions."
Harry whistled quietly.
"Does it come with a dictionary?"
Lupin laughed aloud.
"Really, is that the title, or the first chapter?" Harry asked, weighing the book in his hands.
"We 'in the family' so to speak, just call it 'Bloodlines,'" Lupin explained, still chuckling, "It's quite dense, but it's the best and most thorough out there. It's been through about a hundred editions. This is an old one, but not much has changed since then – they keep updating it as laws change, but all the information about the bloodlines themselves is accurate. I believe Hermione's checked out the Hogwarts copy," Lupin said wryly, "So why don't you keep that one. It's mine, so it's a bit marked up...sorry about that."
Harry stroked the gritty cover, suddenly realizing again how much Lupin meant to him.
"Really? You don't mind?"
"It's time I bought a new copy anyway," Lupin said warmly, "Seeing as the Ministry's making changes again. Do some homework over the break, Harry...if you hand me in a little summary, I'll even give you extra credit," he added, with a playful wink, "Now, speaking of the break, are you packed? I hope you don't mind sharing with Mr. Weasley again, but I imagine you're used to it."
"You mean," Harry stammered, "It's okay? I don't have to stay here?"
Lupin seemed both surprised and oddly moved. "It's your house, Harry. Not yet, of course, but you're always welcome there...not during summers, of course," he added hastily, "You still need—"
"My mother's family, for the...yes, I know," Harry added glumly. As happy as he'd been to find out he'd be staying with Ron and Lupin at Grimmauld place for Christmas, for just a brief moment he'd dared to hope yet again that he would never have to go back to the Dursleys. It seemed it was going to be that way until the Prophecy was fulfilled – and once that happened, he might not need to worry about where he was going to live...
"Chin up, Harry," Lupin said warmly, "It could be worse. Go on and get your things."
Harry was just about to leave, when his guilty conscience turned him around.
"Professor Lupin? Err...Remus...I haven't haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"No, Harry. Put it out of your head," Lupin reassured him, his eyes gentle, "Accidents happen. And I think you really needed to talk to someone about this. You haven't told me anything I didn't already know. If Professor Snape gives you a hard time, tell him he can take it up with me. You [I]will,[/I] of course, keep your word?" he added, eyeing Harry sternly.
Harry nodded mutely.
"Good man," Lupin said, the warmth returning to his eyes, "As irritating as Professor Snape can be, to reveal that kind of secret is one of the worst things you can do to a person...believe me, Harry, I know. And remember, one bad turn doesn't deserve another."
