Author's Notes: Boo! I scared you! Erm… Yes.

Harry's heart fluttered in his chest and he stepped away from the one vampire, the leader of the Vampira. This was a strange new feeling, this one that overpowered him suddenly. He was afraid, he was sickened, but he was also… enlightened? Powerful? No, no feeling he'd ever before as a human would compare. There was no word in the English language for all this sudden weight and lightness and clarity that fell upon his mind. He was something new with this knowledge, a whole new being, and yet… Still very much the same. He'd grown up always with those around him telling him he was meant for great things, always carrying the burden of leadership. This news, as startling as it was, also, in a small way, made sense in his mind. It was as if he'd always known, somewhere inside him, his fate.

His eyes rose slowly to meet her great, red pair. She was offering him a choice, she said, but there was no choice involved in the matter. Not in his mind. If he denied her, he would surely be killed, either by Dumbledore or by his own brothers and sisters. But if he accepted… He would be revered, protected. Either way, Voldemort would be sure to come for him. But that had always been a certainty in Harry's life. A choice? He laughed inwardly. Surely she couldn't believe him to be that stupid.

"Yes," he murmured, so quietly that it likely couldn't have been heard by human ears, but with all his newfound strength behind it. "I choose this path."

A slight murmur carried over his breathren, but with their low, throaty voices it sounded like thunder. The Vampira smiled again, chillingly. Without speaking, she called the others to come nearer to her; she had an instruction for them.

"Teach young Harry Potter our ways, my children. There isn't much time."

And they solemnly turned to face him with their slightly less scarlet eyes. Harry felt a cold, bony hand clench each arm and was lifted off the ground as they carried him away from her as smoothly as was imaginable. The cave around them changed as they moved through it. First the chiseled walls, which had been covered with ancient writing, narrowed and became a pitch black tunnel. Even Harry, with his still undeveloped vampire eyes, couldn't quite tell where they were headed. The blackness was intoxicating. It filled him with a sense of belonging.

He knew Hermione and Rebecca were still back there with the Her, but he found himself caring less and less. He doubted she would do any harm to her own kind, and besides, there were more important things to worry about, even if they were in danger. Such as that smell… He sniffed the air slowly, cautiously, and the overwhelming scent of blood filled his nostrils. It only grew stronger as they seemingly inched forward into the blackness. Finally, when it seemed Harry's curiosity and his hunger could take it no longer, a faint light appeared ahead.

"We are approaching the feeding room," one of the vampires said, though it was impossible to tell which.

"The feeding room?" Harry questioned, hoping for more explanation.

Patiently, the vampire beside him nodded. "You will understand."

He rolled his eyes impatiently. After several more long moments, they finally entered the dimly lit area, where the tunnel opened up into a high-ceilinged dome. That familiar, pungent smell was so strong now that Harry was faint with hunger. He glanced around the room desperately, looking for the source of it, and quickly found it. There were five children, only a few years younger than Harry himself, lying on the dirty ground, chained to the wall with their ankles and wrists, bleeding only slightly now from their many wounds. His hunger surged, but at the same time, he felt a weak, human part of him clench up his stomach in horror and pain. How could anyone do such a thing to these poor children? Only one was still awake. His huge, sunken in brown eyes took in Harry and his near-human appearance, and they filled with desperate hope.

"Please, sir," the child said, his trembling voice still soprano. "Don't let them… I'm… They'll kill me, you see? They… aren't good." Harry looked away, trying to blink away the sudden tears that had formed in his eyes. "Sir! They killed him! My brother! He was only seven… I watched it all… He was so scared… I was so scared…" A little sob escaped him. "Please, make them stop." A silence followed as the child succumbed to silent tears.

Harry still didn't dare look back at that wall. "Is this really necessary?" he asked the floor.

"It is for our survival. On nights such as tonight, when there are wizards on the lookout for vampires, we cannot risk leaving our cave. We turn to other means… The children's blood is more sustaining."

"How often do you feed them? How often do you feed on them?"

"The answer to both is as often as necessary." There was a short, calculating pause. "I see that this room upsets you. You will grow accustomed to it. We all do. The first feed is always the most difficult."

Harry's now bloodshot eyes rose to meet the vampire's. "You mean I'm expected to…?"

"You must keep up your strength if you are to lead us. And tonight this is your only way of feeding." Its voice was completely impassive, as were its red eyes. As if the vampire had done this thousands of times before.

"Okay… okay," he mumbled, mainly to himself. He knew that he had to do this, and his hunger was a powerful force indeed. But those children… The thought of hurting them sickened him, even now, even after all he'd done and seen. His victims had made a choice in their own strange way. But these victims… What had they ever done wrong? Harry swallowed loudly. He just shouldn't think about it. He just had to let his mind go blank.

His first footstep towards them was loud and echoing in comparison to the gliding of the others. He was already second-guessing himself. Which one should he feed on? What was worse, watching someone drink another's blood or being bitten yourself? Harry's mind kept going back to that poor child… He'd watched his brother be killed… Maybe if Harry just finished him now, things would be better for him. It would certainly be a more merciful death than to be drained again and again by the others. And with his second footstep, he'd decided. He knew what was necessary.

The pale, thin frame of the sobbing child shook violently, but Harry tried not to think of it as he approached him. He just had to think of his hunger, satisfying this one demonic urge. He was sure that once his teeth had sunk into the kid's neck, he would forget about his morality and instinctively carry out the job. If only the distance between them didn't seem so great… Harry sped up his footsteps to quicken the process.

Hearing Harry's footsteps, the child looked up at him wearily, first with hope, but his huge eyes soon widened in fear. Harry closed his own eyes as he grasped the child's shoulders and chomped into his neck, the weak but racing heartbeat pounding in his ears now. Blood entered his mouth, rolled over his tongue, slid down his throat… But Harry was not enjoying this feeding, much to his own self-hate. All he was doing was getting rid of that sickening hunger. On and on, the blood seemed to flow. The child's heart wouldn't quit, wouldn't stop. Frustrated, he bit down just a little bit harder. Give up, he thought towards the perseverant heart. Just stop. Make things easier for both of us. Finally, after what felt like hours, the loud beating slowed and became faint. Harry pulled away.

The vampires' cold hands were on his arms again.

"Good," one of them said.

Over the next few days, Harry gave very little thought to the children or to Dumbledore, who he assumed was still on the lookout for him. Instead, he absorbed everything he could about the vampire world: the methods of feeding, ways to avoid detection, what kind of commands to give, and most of all, how to best use his new powers. Most of this he learned from the lead Vampira herself. She demonstrated to him each power: gliding, invisibility, strength, control and charm, commanding. And Harry truly felt that he was becoming what he was meant to be. Even at Hogwarts he had never felt so in control of his abilities, so in sync with everything going on around him. He'd never felt so… at home.

Rebecca and Hermione were learning as well, of course, especially Hermione. Just like at her old days at Hogwarts she pored over every book she could find, collecting bits of information and insights to every part of vampire life. She hung around Her, asking questions and getting equally detailed answers. Sometimes, however, Harry got the sense that the reason she hung around the"queen" was not so much for knowledge's sake as it was for his. Rebecca, in contrast, was learning about herself more on instinct than anything else. Her natural charm and charisma was only heightened by her vampire powers, which she learned from watching the others. However, upon discovering the ability of the others to seduce, she spent less and less time trying to win over Harry. Not that Harry minded. He certainly had enough to deal with while Hermione used all her feminine wiles to keep his interest.

He glided into his coffin with an exhausted sigh. The sun would be up in a half hour or so, maybe a little less by now. While his powers were certainly growing, he was frustrated at how far behind he was in comparison to the Vampira. It was hard for him to see still why he was so special, he who seemed to have no more strength than anyone else. Harry hadn't exactly been expecting this life to require so much work after hearing of the full prophecy. This would be a well-needed rest.

"Harry?" he heard a voice say.

His sharp green eyes darted over to where the voice had come from in the darkness. Hermione stood there, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, seemingly infused with power. Her eyes burned scarlet. Slowly she stepped toward him, her draping black garb barely covering her smooth, pale legs. Harry had never been so attracted to her in all the years of their friendship. He blinked, surprised.

"Harry, we can learn from each other," she whispered. Her voice was lower than he remembered. "Can't you teach me?"

He nodded cautiously, still a bit in shock at her appearance. She smoothly stepped into his coffin, moving atop him so that she was straddling his lower hips. Her arms forced his shoulders down with a strength he hadn't known she had, and slowly, almost more slowly than he could bear, he touched her lips to his, then gently carried the kissing down to his neck and shoulder, where she bit him softly. He moaned. His own arms wrapped tightly around her waist and pushed her a little harder onto his hips. Hermione pulled her kisses away, smiling her white grin, flashing her intense eyes. Her pale arm reached out and shut the coffin on the both of them, and it wasn't long before Harry couldn't remember his days with Rebecca.

What a dream Harry was having. He was surrounded by his breathren, and next to him was the softest, palest body he'd ever encountered. She was slumbering as well. He realized with a slight jolt that it was, in fact, Hermione. The surprise didn't last long as he closed his eyes again and let the fuzzy haze cover his mind. There was a knocking noise, as if someone was trying to get into his room at Hogwarts. That seemed like such a long time ago. Had Ron locked himself out? "Ron, come in already, I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled.

Then… Footsteps… Harry opened his eyes. This didn't seem so much like a dream anymore… This sound was jarring and real. He jerked up a bit, startling the naked Hermione, who now glared her slitted eyes at him.

"What's wrong with you?" she murmured. "It's still daylight. Go back to sleep."

But he couldn't. There was something startlingly wrong about this situation.

His coffin was suddenly thrown open, casting a ray of light on Harry's face that shot pain through his entire body. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus through the pain at the man who had uncovered him. After three long, horrid moments he was able to make out a tall, pointed hat and the longest white beard he'd ever seen.

"Dumbledore."