Thank you to the lovely reviewers on last chapter, I see them all and they make me feel better.

Since I've had so many people ask when it's happening, I shall inform you now that chapter twenty nine will be Vlad's transformation. If you've read my other YD stuff over the last couple of years it might seem repetitive, idk. There's only so many ways to write it.

-YDHP-

"Vlaaaaaad" Harry drawled, staring unseeingly at a book "I'm bored."

Unsurprisingly, he got a clipped and curt response.

"Then study."

Maybe irritating a close-to-transformation vampire who wanted to pass his exams wasn't Harry's best idea, but he was uniquely placed to do so as Vlad wouldn't dream of hurting him.

"I'm bored of studying."

"Study a different subject."

Pouting slightly in thought, Harry rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh.

"How long until exams start now?"

"Two months."

Vlad couldn't help but keep track, since OWLs took place in the same month as his vampiric transformation. The vampire was starting to show.

If Harry wanted, he could probably quite easily distract Vlad, but that would be a little unfair of him when Vlad was so intent on studying. Much as Harry reckoned sex would be a better use of their time than him staring at a book until his brain melted out of his ears.

"Behave."

Damnit. Vlad could clearly tell what Harry had been thinking about.

"Why?"

Harry pouted, wondering when Vlad became the voice of self-control.

"Because... I'm not very in control right now. And I don't want to hurt you."

It was only then Harry noticed the white-knuckle grip Vlad had on his textbook, the tension pulling tight at his neck and shoulders.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Vlad shook his head quickly, drawing in a deep breath.

"No! Just... keep your mind out of the gutter. Your pulse rises and... it's difficult."

Dating a vampire had some strange trials and tribulations, it seemed. Harry nodded to show he was listening, turned his attention back to his books. No matter how dull studying was, it was probably better than wrestling with a part of yourself that you hated. And Vlad did hate being a vampire. He was learning to live with parts of it, like being mated to Harry. That he was powerful enough to hold his own against people who wanted him dead rather than undead.

But he would never want the bloodlust. The fangs. The impending allergy to sunlight and aversion to garlic. The short temper was already wearing him thin; Vlad was such a cool, calm guy in general that his now frequent snapping and growling were out of character. Other students had started taking to trying to reassure Vlad he had nothing to worry about over exams, assuming that his stress was academic rather than vampiric.

With a low growl, Vlad thrust his book away, leapt up. Paced. His fists were clenched, face drawn tight as though in physical pain as he fought the sparks of his vampire side coming to claim dominance.

"I need to get out of here."

"Where?"

Vlad twitched, stretched in an uncomfortable pose and Harry recognised the motion Ingrid and Bertrand did after being in their bat forms, where some discomfort could linger around the shoulder blades.

"Riddle. May as well put the bad mood to good use and go scare some bad guys."

"Are you sure about that?"

Vlad nodded, muscles tightening involuntarily and magic visibly crackled around his hands for a second.

"Vampirism wreaking havoc on magic is well-documented. He won't know whats what and he likes watching me fight. Better than taking it out on someone here."

Harry didn't get much chance to answer before Vlad was gone in a flash of fire, leaving him a bit put out about not getting a kiss goodbye but knowing Vlad was hypersensitive to the point of pain at times, and somewhat averse to most physical contact. Plus, he may not have trusted himself not to lose control with Harry. Harry probably wouldn't mind, but Vlad would.

He tidied up his books, looking out of the charmed windows and deciding a walk in the April sunshine was a nice idea. Vlad was already starting to itch in the sun sometimes, so Harry didn't bring it up but he couldn't help enjoying the sun on his scales. It was a reptile thing.

Ingrid's pre-transformation troubles hadn't seemed as drastic, Harry mused as he strolled along the courtyard, watching absently as students studied or lounged around in the grass. But then, Ingrid had been prickly and temperamental before. Maybe nobody noticed a difference.

He glanced over toward Hagrid's hut, lamenting the missing teacher. After Professor Grubbly-Plank replaced Hagrid in January (Harry suspected Umbridge's involvement or at least influence in the permanence), he'd noticed Hagrid acting shifty, some of his behaviour seeming awkward and secretive. He waved off the concerns.

Vlad, being a literal mind reader, knew better. Hagrid had a mission from Dumbledore, something to do with recruiting and Gubraithian fire. Apparently reading through Hagrid's giant blood was like reading subtitles on a TV screen riddled with static. And to ask Hagrid with that evidence would show how Vlad had invaded the mans mind, which didn't seem terribly fair.

Harry hadn't known what Gubraithian fire was at the time. According to Vlad, it was some form of old magic that created a flame to burn forever, not to be doused by any means but the original caster. He could recall the conversation with clarity.

"How do you know that?"

Vlad tsked, rolled his eyes fondly.

"I am an eternal flame. Gubraithian fire was magic invented by a Celtic guy who had a phoenix familiar. Odds are the spell is influenced by phoenix magic and nobody is quite sure. I might pick Dumbledore's library for information, as it's only passively mentioned in a book on phoenix biology."

"Why Dumbledore?"

"Well, if Hagrid has Gubraithian fire, odds are he got it from Dumbledore. A powerful wizard with a phoenix familiar."

"Could you do it?"

Vlad hummed, chewing on the thought.

"Probably. I'd need to explore my phoenix side more thoroughly though. Or ask Fawkes, which is the easier option I guess."

Harry forgot to ask him about it. He saw George and her friends leaving the otherwise empty hut, Fang in tow to relax near the wilting vegetable patch. Professor Sprout was supposed to maintain it, but somebody had thrown Devils Snare seeds into one of the lesser used greenhouses, and before anyone could notice it's roots had crept beneath, wreaking havoc on the plants living above ground. So in fairness, their Herbology teacher had been pretty busy between preparing OWL and NEWT students and dealing with a rogue Snare.

He did check it wasn't the Weasley twins. Their answer of "if we had Snare seeds, would we waste them on Sprout when Umbridge still teaches?" had been hilarious, if questionable as a statement of innocence.

They had been pranking Umbridge though. Harry remembered the three separate instances of Nifflers being set loose in her office, as they were destructive little critters when they wanted to find shiny things. Several of her cat plates had been smashed, apparently. Harry had restrained himself from appearing outside her door as a Basilisk frequently, only doing it once or twice and not always when she expected him for detention. That would be suspect.

Then there were the dodgy sweets, or 'Skiving Snackboxes' as they were better known. They not only facilitated students leaving Umbridge's class in droves as they spouted chronic nosebleeds, vomited spectacularly or were struck by sudden fevers, but also somehow kept ending up affecting Umbridge as she confiscated sweet treats and never learned her lesson.

Vlad was the one who gave Madam Pomfrey the treatments, only the matrons trust that Vlad wouldn't intentionally poison the woman prevented her investigating further. Either that or hypnosis. Harry hadn't asked.

"Harry?"

He turned, found Hermione and Draco out studying in the sunshine. Hermione was lightly tanned, Draco as pale as ever. He could probably pass for a vamp if Ingrid dressed him.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Vlad?"

Harry dropped down next to them, slid his eyes around to check nobody was listening in before casting a loose silencing spell that would at least muffle their words.

"You know where."

Realisation lit both steel and cinnamon eyes, frowns following soon after.

"How come?"

"He needed to work off some anger. Birthdays soon."

"Merlin, yes. Is he struggling?"

Harry nodded, remembering the hunched animal who growled and paced like a caged beast when they were only studying in near-silence.

"Yeah. This close, he's all over the place and trying to study for his exams. It's worse than Ingrid. Maybe because he's more powerful?"

Draco added his own stronger silencer to their surroundings, twirling his quill in hand. It left the air with a buzzing sound around them, making it hard even if someone tried to eavesdrop.

"It's likely. His magical and vampiric cores are at odds. Ingrid's just a magical vampire, hers were always intertwined. Vlad's half human and his mothers a squib, so his are technically separate. His second magical spurt is either here or due soon, so with the transformation closing in his magic and his powers don't want to mix. Honestly, its amazing he's as stable as he is."

Harry hadn't known the problem was so deep, and imagined Vlad had tried to keep it that way so as not to worry his mate.

"How'd you know all that?"

"Bertrand. He's been trawling loads of centuries old books that'll fall apart if you sneeze in the same room trying to find someone that's anything like Vlad. He found a couple of texts on teen wizards turned before they turned seventeen, by some bored biter who just wanted to know what would happen. Amplify what they know with Vlad's big powers... really, he should be a ticking time bomb."

Harry frowned, wondering just how much Vlad was suppressing his problematic experiences and whether or not he should really be trying to take exams when he was so close to changing.

Part of him even worried the personality changes might be permanent. Vampire transformations were supposed to make a biter more blood-lusty and angry and generally evil. According to the Dracula siblings, their cousin had gone off the deep end despite being a weedy little geek with braces, glasses and a jerky startle reflex. In Ingrid's own words, Boris made Vlad look like the prince of darkness.

If he had become evil... could Vlad?

"I did not summon you."

Vlad hissed in Riddle's direction, felt the vampiric spark burning in his fingers, itching to flame and tear at flesh.

"I was hoping for a duel. Or a fight, but I doubt many of your lily-livered lackeys would take me on hand to hand."

The psychotic strip of pale darkness observed Vlad coolly, Bellatrix reeking of pregnancy and Lucifer only knew what else at his side. Many of the usual crowd were out pretending to be upstanding members of society holding down normal jobs. But there were still a few around. Vlad spied Macnair, the one who'd taken such pleasure in potentially executing any living thing. Riddle followed his eyeline, tipped his head as though curious.

"Is your pending transformation affecting you?"

"It's supposed to. If being a vampire was easy, everyone would do it."

Several Death Eaters tried to look less present, perhaps knowing Vlad's reputation for duelling to the death when he was in a bad mood. Vlad wasn't sure how he felt about caring less for killing, remembering the crushing guilt when he cut Greyback's blood-soaked life short, soothed only by words from his mate.

Now he felt distaste for the act, and Vlad wouldn't be able to take an innocent life so calmly - or at all, he hoped - but it was already an expected part of his time as a double agent. And it wasn't as though the lives he took had no deaths on their own souls. Even the newer recruits were initiated through blood and murder. Sometimes each others', in some twisted 'winner stays on' contest to prove themselves.

In a way, he supposed it was good practice. Dumbledore wanted Vlad to kill him. Even if he liked Dumbledore, Vlad would kill to protect Harry from having to do it, but as he didn't really like the old coot... Vlad was preparing for the coming war.

"Macnair! Entertain the teenager would you?"

With a flair of enjoyment that Vlad knew his father would be proud of, he watched the flicker of fear in the sunken, gaunt old face. Some blustered, tried to insinuate duelling Vlad was beneath them. That usually got them Crucio'd before then being sent to duel him anyway. Then it was like kicking a wet sand castle to bits, since Riddle held the curse too long and left the victim struggling to control their basic motor functions at best.

His jaw pulsed, twinging something fierce where his fangs ached to appear. Two lunar cycles to go...

"Ow!"

Macnair took advantage of Vlad being distracted by dental pain, shot a Slashing hex at his arm and Vlad grimaced as it cut deep. A few inches better aim and Vlad would have been at risk of losing the whole appendage. It could be reattached, but it would be a massive inconvenience. His magic lashed out in anger, slammed Macnair into the wall with a sickening crack. Vlad was no Healer - at least, not in this form - but he could close the gash up enough to stop Macnair or anyone else trying again; they would hit bone and that would hurt.

"Playing dirty really ticks me off you know."

"Come now, it was hardly his fault you weren't paying attention."

Riddle smirked. At least, that's what Vlad thought the expression stretching non-existent lips over teeth like an eerily happy snarl was supposed to be.

"When extra teeth are trying to rip their way through your gums, tell me it's not a distraction. Anyway, it's the equivalent of hexing somebody in the back. Pathetic if you can't win without cheating."

Macnair was unconscious. Vlad rolled his eyes, sat down to treat his arm with a balm made from his own phoenix tears. It stung slightly before leaving unblemished skin and painless muscles in its wake.

"What kind of healing potion is that supposed to be?"

Bellatrix spat, scowling at him as though Vlad personally offended her. It was possible he did. Vlad lied, naturally.

"Vampire specific. We don't sustain injuries or scar the way humans do, our healing process sometimes needs a kick."

"Hmph. You're not even a biter yet."

Vlad hissed. She recoiled slightly and Riddle looked ready to hex him, visibly controlling the urge. He had to be careful not to let the hiss become an intelligible word to the other Parselmouth in the room, having no way possible to explain his sudden development of the almost-nonexistent skill.

"This close to my transformation, it's flickering in and out. I already have to use scent blocking charms in class so I don't try to eat anyone during Arithmancy. Bit conspicuous."

It was true Vlad used scent-block charms in class, because the constant smell of blood drove him to distraction but he had zero intent of ever taking a bite.

Macnair began to stir, his drunken crawl and subsequent flop lending credence to the possibility Vlad had given him a serious head injury.

"Well, that didn't really sate the desire to fight. Anybody else?"

A couple of the cocky new Death Eaters tried to be challenging, and Vlad made short work men. He left them alive, but they would need medical attention to stay that way. The stone floor around them was dark with blood, and the scent was starting to get to him. Vlad felt a little dizzy with the sudden flare of hunger, ears registering a primal growl nearby. It took a minute to realise the sound was him, a low and hungry rumbling in his chest.

He left before the urge could overcome him, or before he decided to flame out rather than walk and out himself as a phoenix. That would be all he needed. Vlad ran, sucking in lungfuls of fresh, unbloodied air and wishing that gnawing ache in his gut would abate. The vampire thirsted for blood, mocked him whenever Vlad told himself he would never give in, he just had to learn to ignore the cravings.

The Blood Mirror beckoned soon. Vlad would have to face his father for the first time in a long time when he returned to Stokely Castle to transform.

He was also going to have to face himself.

-YDHP-

It's getting close! Hopefully that makes up for the short chap.