Chapter 18 White Lies and Impossible Notions

Harry flipped anxiously to the desired page. There she was, Lamia. He stared intently at the rare 19th century painting depicting the beautiful young queen of Libya, taking in all of the details. The nubile young queen's red painted eyes bore hauntingly into the viewer. Her sandy blonde locks fell in soft waves to her naked waist. Her breasts were visible, much in the fashion of many paintings of the period. Coiling up her skirted legs was a rather large, deadly-looking snake. He blinked the image from his mind and read on.

He was disappointed to find there wasn't much information on her, only that she was supposed to have devoured her own children, and possibly other children, based on various accounts. Muggle history books always confused him, they were all so indefinite and unsure. One thing had stuck out to him, strangely enough. More of a curiosity than anything, he wondered if it could be true. Closing the book, Harry headed off to the girls' section of dormitories, off to find the one person who might have the answers he was looking for.

Arriving in front of Hermione's room Harry knocked cautiously, hoping that her and Ron weren't in the middle of their nightly 'alone time.' But seconds later Hermione was at the door, the briefest look of surprise crossing her features.

"Oh, Harry. What's up? Come in. I wasn't expecting to see you here this late." She said smiling and gesturing for him to come inside. Hermione had lucked out; she shared her room with a very friendly and very frequently absent Ravenclaw, who spent most of her time with her own boyfriend. Harry smiled nervously as he entered, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"Yeah, uh, I guess it is pretty late," Harry said scratching his head. "I guess I didn't realize how much time I'd spent at the library."

"Oh yeah," Hermione asked, her brown eyes sparkling up to face him with interest. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked with genuine interest.

"Well, not exactly." Harry shuffled, struggling to find the right words. "But my -research- did lead to an interesting question. Promise you won't laugh? Hermione," His eyes looked at her imploringly before he asked very seriously, "Are vampires real?"

Hermione stared quietly at him for a moment, but it wasn't long before a twitching caught her lips and she burst into a light, carefree laughter. Harry looked down dejectedly, embarrassment rising to colour his cheeks.

"You weren't supposed to laugh!" He bemoaned.

"I never said I wouldn't." She squeaked between her slowly dying fits of giggles. "It's- it's just your face," She added breathlessly, "Your face- when you were- ahahah." She tried to speak, failing to overcome her amusement again. After a few more minutes she finally regained her composure.

"I'm so sorry Harry," She said solemnly, "Really, I didn't mean to laugh at you like that, it was just that look on your face and the silly question, it was all too much." Her lips were quirking again. "But to answer your questions seriously, vampires are a very touchy subject in the wizarding world, from what I understand. They actually do exist, though not in the Dracula type ways that muggles like to depict them. Though I'm afraid wizards today don't know too much more about them. Apparently they are very rare to encounter and those who do typically end up dead or one of them. They like to keep to themselves; evidently in the earlier days of wizards, back around the times of the founders, wizards and vampires fought quite a bit and wizards supposedly hunted them down to near extinction. You just don't hear about them. There's a lot of bad blood."

Harry took in everything she said with renewed interest. So vampires are real. Could Professor Albatross actually be one of them? Hermione's voice cut in again. "Can I ask, Harry, why you want to know this? This doesn't have to do with Professor Albatross again does it? I mean really, Harry, you've been acting so distant lately. I just feel like I never know what you're thinking anymore, and Ron agrees."

Harry's head shot up, his eyes narrowing slightly. So my friends are talking about me behind my back now huh. He thought bitterly.

"For your information this has nothing to do with Albatross," Harry shouted indignantly, lying. "Though for the record I still don't trust the lousy git! I think I better be headed back to my room now," Harry said sullenly, before quietly adding, "Thanks for your help."

"Harry wait," Hermione beckoned him. He turned for a moment to give his friend a resigned smile before leaving soundlessly.

Xxx

Draco wandered down the long winding halls of Hogwarts, no particular destination set in mind. He'd not seen the professor once outside of class since their rendezvous at the Shrieking Shack a bit over a week ago, and Draco was beginning to feel like perhaps his lover had outgrown his affections. Whatever. The blonde thought morosely. Whatever. Whatever. I don't need him. It's just sex. I don't love him. I love... he shuddered. I don't need to love anyone. I don't need love. I don't need it. Draco's fingers played mindlessly against the fresh cuts that he'd just inflicted. He whimpered slightly as he kneaded his fingers into the tender flesh, needing the pain, needing it so badly.

Somewhere nearby he heard familiar voices chatting cheerfully. A part of him longed so desperately to be them. Chatting, carefree, hanging out on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He hated that part of himself most; the part that hoped. Malfoys' do not concern themselves with trivialities. Malfoys' do not hope for a simpler life. He laughed wryly to himself, as if being a Malfoy meant anything. Certainly nothing good had ever come of it, least not for him.

He continued passed the happy forms of Dean and Neville, talking excitedly about the latest Quidditch match. Gryffindorks. He couldn't have been ten paces away from them when suddenly his vision burred and his head swam. He tried to hurry out of sight as black spots formed in his sight. But it was no use, his knees buckled and he felt himself sliding down against the smooth castle wall. Blackness Draco was well-acquainted with engulfed him temporarily. Seconds later he blinked, looking up to see that Shit! Yes, the gryffindorks had noticed him. Shit shit shit! He internalized as they stood in front of him, faces filled with concern.

"You okay, Malfoy?" Dean asked, cautiously, wariness heavy in his words.

"Yeah," Draco replied weakly, ashamed at the hoarseness he heard in it. "I'm fine, I uh- just haven't eaten anything today." He lied quickly, knowing that it would at least believable, based on how skinny he was anymore.

Neville offered his hand to him, but he refused, waving his hand off with a slight motion of his own. The pair of Gryffindors, having lost interest in the prat, started heading off and Draco strained to stand back up. I just need to make it to my room, he thought, then I can sleep for a while. Trembling, he took a step before faltering into Neville's back.

"O-oh, sorry." Draco mumbled quickly, trying to quell his shaking. Dean looked at him with concern again.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Dean asked.

" 'm fine." Draco whispered, heading off to his nearest sanctuary with great effort.

Neville and Dean looked after the gaunt boy, a conflict of emotions storming through them both.

In his favorite abandoned classroom, Draco reflected on his next course of action. He badly needed a blood replenishing potion. Typically Adrian gave them to him whenever he started to get weak, but it would be suspicious to go to him now that they haven't even met up in over a week. Even though the man didn't seem to care much for the boy, he still seemed to be quite interested in his blood, and Draco had the strong instinct that Adrian would be mad if he found out Draco had been cutting again. That severely limited his options. Madam Pomphrey also had the potions he needed, but she would ask too many questions. He knew if he went directly to her she would ferret his secret out of him for sure. But if he could somehow get someone else. Just then, an idea struck him. It was a long shot, but he needed that potion. He'd just have to give it a go.

Xxx

Hermione smiled to herself as she finished up her apprenticeship duties in the Hospital Wing. In the end she was very happy that she'd decided to take one the apprenticeship with Madam Pomphrey. After the war there were so many people needing help and treatment, and without thinking twice she'd jumped right in, volunteering to aid the mediwitches on site. After that, the spark was lit and her interest in the healing profession only grew. So she was only all too pleased when Madam Pomphrey had offered he a place a Hogwarts, assisting her with various healing procedures. She was just heading out the door when she ran smack into Draco Malfoy. The boy stumbled and swayed dangerously before regaining his footing. When he was steady he beamed up at her, a ghostly smile.

"Ah, Granger, just the person I was looking for."