AN: Ok, I got this chapter out pretty fast, and I'm proud of myself for that. Behold- conflict! And a real plot begins to unfold! Hooray! Again, I apologize for my bipolar Harry, and for the abruptness of my writing, but if you go read my other fic, Death Waits For No Hero, you will see that I actually AM improving in my writing ability! Uhh...apart from that, I can't think of anything else to say...so...REVIEW!!!

Disclaim Her: Review and I will give you exclusive rights to my soul!

Murder

Over the next few days, Harry avoided both Snape and the Underground, despite coaxing from both Ron and Hermione, and mostly spent his time wandering the castle, enjoying the feel of magic surrounding him. He was doing just that one day when he heard a scream coming from one of the less traveled corridors. He hurried toward the noise, along with a few other students who had heard it. When he reached the hallway, he stopped. It was a Slytherin - Millicent Bulstrode - that had screamed. The reason for the scream was fairly obvious - Pansy Parkinson was on the floor, in a crumpled heap. There was blood on the floor. Harry, unprepared for both the sight and the scent, had to reign back the impulse to jump at the 'prey'. He managed to control himself, but his fangs still descended, forcing him to keep his mouth tightly closed as the teachers came around the corner. Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall filed in slowly. Snape looked first at the girl on the floor, then at Harry, accusation in his eyes. Harry stared defiantly back, daring him to say something in front of everyone.

Dumbledore was the first to speak. "What happened, Miss Bulstrode?"

Millicent just shook her head, shivering despite the warmth of the corridor. "She-she was just laying here! And-and...the blood! Oh, Merlin, the blood..."

Harry stared at Pansy, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as Professor McGonagall turned her over. The girl was pale, almost as pale as he was now, and as McGonagall brushed her hair back to find the source of the blood, a bite mark came into view. It was not a clean bite, either. It looked as if someone had torn a piece of her throat out and taken it with them.

Gasps sounded throughout the corridor, and almost as one the other students turned to stare at Harry. Dumbledore, following their gaze, also turned towards Harry, confusion in his eyes. "Harry?"

Harry just shook his head, and opened his mouth to speak, before realizing his mistake and quickly closing it again - but not before the teachers got a good look at his fangs. Dumbledore drew his wand. "Harry. Did you do this?"

Harry's eyes widened and he almost started panicking. "No sir! I swear I didn't- I would never do anything like- like this!" He gestured at the body on the floor. Desperate, he tried to grab Dumbledore's arm, but was stopped by a wand held to his throat by McGonagall.

"Not another step, Potter," She said, almost hissing, the cat in her showing in the presence of a vampire. Cats were, after all, their natural enemies.

"Oh, please," Snape sneered, rolling his eyes. "You really think Potter, of all people, would kill someone? Even if he is a vampire, the boy is far too well trained to do something like that."

Harry silently started thanking whatever gods he could think of, and pleaded that that would be enough to convince the Headmaster. He didn't like the old bastard, but he did like Hogwarts, and was definitely not ready to leave.

Dumbledore looked torn, unsure of the whole situation. Finally, he sighed. "Harry, I want to talk to you in my office."

Nervous for the first time in months, Harry nodded, and followed the elderly man through the winding halls of Hogwarts and into his comfortable office.

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Dumbledore sat down, and gestured at the seat in front of the desk. Harry, not taking his eyes off the Headmaster, slid into the chair and tried not to fidget, feeling like a first year all over again.

"Harry-"

"I'm not going to make excuses for what I am, okay? Yes, I'm a vampire. But I didn't kill Parkinson. I don't kill people, not like that."

Dumbledore leaned forward over the desk. "I believe you, Harry. But I think you should tell me the whole story, starting at the beginning."

Harry sighed, reclining back in his chair, hoping against hope that he could avoid bringing Ron and Hermione into this. "Well, sir...I- um,-that is-I, well...I met this girl, and..." He trailed off, hoping Dumbledore would get the point.

"Ah," he answered, nodding sagely. "I understand. Go on."

Harry resisted the urge to growl at the man's slightly amused expression. "I woke up the next morning with marks. That's when I knew she was a vampire. But I didn't know I had been changed, not until later..."

The Headmaster sat quietly for a moment. "Harry, I do not believe that you killed Miss Parkinson. However, the rest of the school -and, I daresay, the world- will not see it that way. As it is, they have no jurisdiction in my school, and it is up to me to decide whether or not you are a suspect. I am afraid that this will not simply blow over, though, and it will only be a matter of time before the letters begin pouring in. You will be under great suspicion, Harry."

Harry nodded, a look of perfected innocence on his face. He had to make Dumbledore believe him, and acting the way he normally did would not help, even if he really was innocent. "I understand, sir. I'll just have to deal with it."

"Indeed you will. I shall try to keep the press off of school campus, but there will have to be an investigation. Do you know of anyone that might have done this?"

Harry tried to think, but no names came to mind. "No sir. I'm sorry."

The Headmaster smiled. "It's alright, Harry." Then he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that I will have to place some restrictions on you now, though."

Harry sat up straight, and stared. "I'm sorry? Restrictions?"

"Well, my boy, you are a vampire, and the other students will not feel safe unless they are sure you are...contained."

Harry could feel the beginnings of fury burning in his chest. "Contained. You want to...contain me. Like an animal."

"No, not like that at all. I just feel that we have to..."

"To what? Lock me up so I can't hurt anyone? Even though I've been a vampire for the entire year?"

The old man looked as if he was struggling for words, but Harry wasn't going to let him say anything.

"I'm not going to let you control me. There are no laws against vampires at the school, and you have no right to limit me in what I can and cannot do just because you think some parents will be upset."

He got up and walked out.

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Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the common room, playing a game of wizarding chess in a corner, away from the rest of the Gryffindors. When he walked in, the entire room seemed to grow colder, and he could feel the glares and accusations coming from the other students.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, her gaze questioning.

Harry looked at them, trying to decide what to tell them, and eventually nodded his head towards the door. "Outside."

The pair followed him out of the room, glancing at each other with trepidation.

When Harry reached an alcove, he turned and leveled his gaze at the pair, looking from one to the other. "Someone killed Pansy Parkinson."

Hermione gasped, and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. Ron spoke up. "I heard something about it, but no one will talk to me..."

Harry nodded shortly. "That would be because it looks like a vampire killed her."

Ron and Hermione both got paler, if that was possible. "But-but how is that possible?"

"Well, either there's another vampire at the school, or-" Harry hated having to say the next part. "or one of us did it."

The three of them looked at each other, and Harry could feel the trust between them falling to pieces before his eyes.