A Place to Call Home
Tom
Disclaimer: On the new book that just came out, did anyone see my name anywhere on it…no didn't think so.
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, I'm really surprised at the positive response I've got for this story. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Also, I'd like to take this chance and plug my two newest fics, Existence and Switched: Chance or Destiny. They're AUs, but I really like the way they're turning out. I'd love if I could get some more criticism and comments on them. Yes, and now this is important: How's the length of this chapter? I know it's longer than usual, but is it too long? Should I update sooner with shorter chapters or you all prefer the chapters like this. Finally, if there are any questions, comments, or criticisms: please review!
Summary: (AU) A vampiric Draco, who finds himself with a new blood donor in Harry Potter, must now face the challenges of Hogwarts anew and this time he has more than just himself to worry about.
Harry gasped, awaking from his dream with a start before relaxing back onto the couch where he had once again fallen asleep. He looked at the book curled up beside him in disgust; he had had nightmares ever since finding the bloody thing, and he would give absolutely anything for them to stop.
Because really, stupid books shouldn't be giving him nightmares- that was what Snape was for.
>>>
Harry flipped through the book disinterestedly, yawning ever so often. In the two weeks that it had took for October to become November and the leaves to change from their normal green to pastel oranges and yellows, he had read through the soiled little book multiple times, soaking in all the information. Some of it was indecipherable, a bunch of warped ramblings that made no sense, but most of it was a veritable goldmine of information about vampires. Harry learned more about vampires and their blood donors than he had ever before. The person whom had wrote the book had probably forgotten more about vampires than Draco knew.
"Harry?"
Harry shut the book with a snap and hid it in his schoolbag.
"Harry?" Hermione's head poked into the room, timidly, "Um…are you going to come to our Flying lesson? You never know, it could be interesting."
With a sigh, Harry got up. He had tried to pay more attention to his friends lately, but if it wasn't one thing, it was another. The book was taking up more of his time than he had first thought. There was something in it he needed to find; he just couldn't think of what it was.
"Coming." he answered idly, "Just hold on a second."
Harry picked up his bag and followed Hermione out of the Slytherin dorms to where Ron was standing, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Hey mate." he said, his smile strained.
Harry gave him a half-hearted smile in return. After the first couple of shouting matches, his friends had stopped trying to shake some sense into him, and for that, Harry was thankful. What he didn't like was the way they now treated him, like he was made of glass and could break at any second. He wasn't fragile and he was dealing with it…even if it wasn't very well, he was handling it.
Groaning slightly at the mass of contradictions he had unwillingly become in such a short while, Harry shook his head, letting his shaggy dark hair sway. Lagging behind his friends, he reached the Quidditch pitch a couple of minutes after them. Ron and Hermione, as far as he could see, were already standing in a line along with the rest of the first years.
Next to each first year was an old broom, lying innocently on the ground. Harry quickened his pace, hurrying to place himself at the end of one of the lines, next to a Hufflepuff girl named Hannah. Despite his current apathy, Harry felt a thrill of excitement rush through him overriding his sleepiness. Flying was forbidden in normal villages, because of the (much hated) muggle avoidance laws, so the only way one could fly was if they were in unrestricted fields like at Hogwarts or where there were reinforced anti-muggle charms. This would be the first time Harry had ever ridden alone, or for a matter of fact, legally.
Following Madame Hooch's instructions carefully, Harry called his broom up and mounted it, placing his hands the proper width apart. Nervously, Harry tightened his grip and waited for Hooch's instructions on when and how far to rise.
"Okay class, rise on the count of-" Hooch fell to the ground as a huge blast shook the grounds.
Harry jerked forward as the ground tilted dizzyingly for a minute, but managed to stay on his feet with the help of his broom. "What was that?" he asked, frowning at the sight of almost all of his classmates on their hands and feet.
"Harry! WATCH OUT!" Ron yelled, lunging forwards him.
Reflexively, Harry ducked and rolled to the side as a curse shot by his left ear, knocking Ron to the ground instead. Harry whipped around and caught sight of a long woolen cloak and cold yellow eyes disappearing around the north castle tower. A funny ringing sound filled Harry's ears as he turned from the escaping figure back to Ron lying still and pale on the ground.
He was so weary of just sitting and waiting for these things to happen. He didn't want to have to rely on Draco anymore to help him out of the slightest problem. Every time he hesitated, someone including himself could and at times, did get hurt. First Percy, and now Ron. His best friend- he couldn't let them do this to his best friend. He couldn't let them do this to himself again…he was tired of only reacting.
Decisively, Harry grabbed a broom, ignoring Hooch's frantic orders and the other children's crazed shouts of "Vampire! VAMPIRE!" Their best friend had not been hurt. Shoving off the ground, Harry took to the air like a bird to the sky, barely pausing to wonder at how he was doing this. Instead he rounded the north tower in search of the wayward vampire. The broom turning at his slightest command, Harry skidded to a halt before flying over the Forbidden Forest and scanning the area. He couldn't see anything but-
A blur rammed into him from below, nearly knocking him off his broom. Gasping, Harry grabbed the wildly spinning broom with both hands and turned sharply to the right, heading away from the Forest and back towards the north wall of the castle.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Harry chanced a look over his shoulder, squinting his eyes against the air whooshing past him and caught sight of the vampire raising his wand to curse him again. Reacting instinctively, Harry barrel-rolled, something he had only seen Draco do once or twice when he had been trying to impress the pretty girls in the village. Harry's stomach flew downwards into his heart and he reswallowed his lunch as it tried to come back up his throat. Then, oddly, he distinctly felt the curse soar over his head and into something that he was pretty sure hit it back.
Choking back a half yell, Harry flipped right side up again, just in time for the curse to go zinging under his feet and back towards the vampire who slowed and swerved to avoid the lightening blue streak. Harry breathed a sigh of relief; his wheezing gasps puffing up in the cool air.
Of course, nothing was ever that simple.
The thing that had hit the curse back wanted revenge…obviously. It was, as Harry soon found out, some sort of overgrown shrubbery with a mean sting. Harry shrieked as the first branch found its mark and slammed across his back, shredding his shirt and pitching him off the broom. Desperately and truly terrified of ending up in the not so gentle embrace of the tree's branches once again, Harry wildly reached through the whipping branches for the end of the broom, thanking every famous wizard from Merlin to Dumbledore that he caught the last couple of twigs of it, and then cursing them all when the broom slipped from his grasp and he fell once again.
Harry twisted and turned through the air, getting battered from all side. A branch snapped across his face, momentarily blinding him and he suddenly felt himself land with a disgruntled thump on the vampire's broom. Harry bent over on the broom, trying frantically to catch his breath, but almost immediately, an arm latched around his waist, squeezing him hard. Harry slammed his head backwards, connecting with something because the vampire swore and let him go.
Harry scrambled off the broom, this time favoring his chances of survival with the tree. Leaping forward, he caught one of the huge branches and clung to it like a monkey. The tree roared in angry, leaves shaking in fury, and slammed the branch, indeed all the branches, against each other and the ground. Harry saw the vampire on the broom get knocked to the ground viciously and winced, knowing that he was next.
And then- miraculously, the tree went still. Harry eased his eyes open a fraction of an inch, not relinquishing his death hold on the tree in case it started moving again.
"Well? Are you coming down?"
Harry looked down, peeking over the branch of the tree. Snape was standing a good twenty feet down with his arms crossed, looking impatient. "The tree could unfreeze any minute and if that happens because you're too scared to jump, then I'm going to just leave you there."
Well that settled it; Harry closed his eyes again and let himself fall.
>>>
"Harry! Are you alright?"
"Yes Draco," Harry smiled slightly as Draco swooped down on him and swept him into his arms. "Don't do stupid stuff like that, Harry. You almost gave me a heart attack when I found out!"
Harry laughed, the sound muffled by Draco's cloak. "Well I learned from the best."
Snape, leaning against the wall, snorted, but Hermione, Draco and Ron who was still in his hospital bed, all looked at each other in surprise. It was the most light-hearted Harry had sounded in ages. In fact, he almost sounded normal.
"So…where were you Draco?" Hermione asked shrewdly.
Draco guiltily smoothed a rumpled collar. "Just busy."
Snape snorted again and Draco turned to glare at him. "Why are you still here?"
"Draco!" Hermione cried out, scandalized that a teacher would speak to another teacher that way. "You're going to-"
But Draco wasn't even paying attention anymore. "Stupid rogue vampires…" Draco muttered, stroking Harry wind-swept hair and deciding not to comment Harry's change of mood at all. "They're so…" Draco wrinkled his nose, "So Ron, what the prognosis? How many days in bed?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.
Ron sighed dramatically. "It was just a stunning spell, but I have to spend a couple of days in bed in recover my strength. Madame Pomfrey said it was because I was so young."
"But other than that he's in perfect health. Did you hear that, Draco!" Harry asked, practically swinging off Draco's arm, "Perfect!" he repeated, grinning widely.
"That's…" Draco paused, realization dawning, "great."
Sweet Harry, Draco thought, continuing to run his fingers through Harry's thick hair. You're happy because your best friend's okay. Nothing else matters to you at the moment, does it? Draco smiled tenderly. If I could wrap the world up in cotton and keep everyone you love safe that way, I would, if only to make you happy.
"I wouldn't worry about him too much." Snape interrupting Draco's thoughts, "He's fine. There was a nasty laceration on his back, but Pomfrey cleared that up within minutes." his pronounced leer was both nasty and frightening, "Besides, I have more important news, I think Slytherin found a new seeker."
It was on the twentieth of November when snow first decided to show its face, three weeks from the flying incident, that Snape mustered the courage and stifled his pride enough to ask a certain other vampire for…well not help- that would be beneath him, but…advice would be the best word for it. Malfoy had to have some way to disarm whatever charm or spell the disgusting Potter boy had to have put on him unknowingly. The other explanation was that he actually was attracted to- No, it was definitely the former.
Lip curling, Snape reached the portrait of two fairies dancing in a convoluted circle and whispered the password. Disregarding any form of manners, Snape stepped inside surprising Draco and another girl he was with. Predictably, the girl shrieked and turning her back, proceeded to hurriedly button up her shirt. Draco looked just as disgruntled, stepping away from the girl and glaring at Snape.
"Well," Snape commented snidely, "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."
The teenager blushed. No one wanted to be caught out in a state of undress with another teacher by their head of house. "I…" her voice broke, "I'm going to go now…" she announced, trailing off when Snape sent her a withering glare, "so I'll see you in class Professor Snape. Bye Draco."
Snape smirked as she scurried out the door, red-faced. Then he turned, grim-faced once again, towards Draco. "You and I need to talk."
Draco pursed his lips and straightened his rumpled robes distastefully. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" he asked, ignoring the previous comment completely.
"I have, but I only so it when surrounded with civilized people. People who don't screw around with their students." Snape added pointedly.
"What?" Draco asked tersely, "Do you want? You better make it quick because Harry's first Quidditch practice is in an hour and I promised him that I'd be there…as a teacher of course."
"I'd watch your tongue. Remember who got him on that Quidditch team."
Draco laughed. "Yes, but it wasn't out of pity. Admit it, he's the best flyer you've seen in ages. The best since his father."
Snape hissed, clenching his robes. "I've managed not to kill him yet because I can look into his eyes and forget James Potter, but don't make it harder or you'll be the one to suffer the consequences."
"What's the problem?" Draco asked, only slightly more restrained.
"He and I…whenever I drink from him…" Snape broke off, unable to fully articulate the feeling that swelled up in him whenever the verdant-eyed boy was mentioned.
Draco furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"
"What happens when you drink from Potter?" Snape asked, deciding to find out Draco's feelings on the subject, because if he and Harry were already involved in some sort of physical relationship then…Draco would have to die of course.
"Same old. It never changes- the rush, the rightness, the feeling of completion. Why, what do you feel?"
"I've never…" felt as right as that, but with Harry… "You get far too attached to your blood donors. They're just a ever replenishing container for blood."
"Not Harry, not if you knew Harry." Draco murmured softly, glancing out the window
"Well yes," Snape mused out loud, more to himself than anyone else, "There is something about the boy- the way he looks and feels…"
"You're developing feelings for him." Draco surmised, "Well it was bound it happen. You're his vampire now and when you take blood from someone you form a link with them. It's no wonder that-" suddenly, Snape's choice of words registered and Draco staggered backwards as if physically struck, "You- You actually- Oh, that is sick!"
Snape snarled. "Do you actually believe that I like this? It's disgusting."
"Keep away from him." Draco growled dangerously, "If you even try anything, I swear I'll kill you."
"How sweet," Snape hissed, "a Hogwarts professor protecting the virtue of a student…by the way, the girl- Mercy? I do hope nothing untoward is going on."
Draco shrugged, stiffening. "She's distracting enough."
"It's against school policy." Snape said dryly.
"Oh? And what's the school policy regarding a faculty member's infatuation with an eleven year old boy?" Draco asked icily, buttoning up his cloak.
"You're just replacing her with Harry." Snape said slyly, "You'll get rid of her the second Harry comes running back into your arms."
Draco snorted. "Really? What are you suggesting Severus?"
"Just remarking on the fact that, even though you're of marrying age and have, in the past, dated voraciously, you haven't laid a hand on a girl ever since you started consorting with that…that…" Snape closed his eyes "All I'm saying is that you should be careful not to fall prey to temptation yourself."
Draco's face tightened. "I want you to leave now, and if you ever even suggest that my feelings towards Harry are anything but pure, then I'll…I'll-"
Snape held his hands up in front of him. "Don't get upset, child; I'm just mentioning that right now you're dressing in your best robes to go watch a Quidditch practice in which Harry just happens to be seeking in for the first time. A Quidditch practice. A practice in which a young boy who's lately been ignoring you for the most part, will probably be looking for you in the crowds for encouragement. Doesn't it seem bizarre that you'd-"
"I'm going to leave now." Draco announced tightly, "because this sport is the first thing that Harry's been excited about in ages and I'm not going to let him down. Not again." Cool gray eyes pinned Snape to the spot as Draco swept past him, and walked down the hall towards the Quidditch stadium.
Harry flipped through the book again, listlessly turning the pages. Automatically, he stifled his ever-present yawn- the dreams hadn't gotten any better and he felt like he was living in a perpetual daze due to his lack of sleep. His first practice was in a half an hour and he was already dressed, albeit clumsily, in his Quidditch gear, but there was just something about this book. Maybe if he figured it out, he'd be able to sleep properly.
Sighing to himself, Harry set the book aside and reached for his half-finished Charms essay on levitating charms. Looking it over, he added a few more scratches of writing to the bottom and set it on top of an unsteady pile of books, accidentally tipping over his inkwell as he did so.
"Damn." he muttered, mopping up the black liquid with the end of his sleeve. Quickly, he scooped up his school papers and bag and tossed them to the side. Unfortunately, the book slipped from his grasp and fell into the growing puddle of ink.
"No!" Harry yelped.
Quickly, he dropped the rest of his things and reached into the puddle and gingerly picked up the book by two fingers. Dejected, he examined the dripping book; it was probably ruined. Pouting, Harry laid the book to the side and turned to his dropped bag and parchment, picking them up and placing them on a spare couch. Then he turned back to the book, ready to see if he could salvage any of the pages. He sat at the desk, mindful of any staining ink, and flipped open the book.
It…it was completely clean. Hurriedly, Harry flipped through every page, trying to find even one spot of ink. There were none. Scrunching up his brow in concentration, Harry stared at the book as if it itself would give him the answers he wanted. Then slowly, as if drawn by external forces as well as internal, he pulled out a spare quill and dipping it in the puddle of ink, wrote his name.
Hello Harry. Beautiful cursive script appeared on the line below which Harry had written on. My name is Tom.
Harry blinked and then as if mesmerized, he dipped his quill into the spilled ink dripping next to him and wrote back: Who are you?
My name is Tom. This is my book; I wrote it.
Oh, Harry's penmanship became surer, So you're a vampire.
Correct. The penmanship seemed almost amused, if writing could even portray something like that. This book holds all my findings of my species. It is the ultimate guide for vampires. Are you one?
Despite himself, Harry leaned closer. No.
But then, how is it possible for you to read and understand this book?
Well, I'm…I'm a blood donor. Does that count?
Ah, the most important and beautiful possession of a vampire. The vampire who owns you is lucky to have such a curious and ingenious pet.
Harry bristled. Thanks, but I'm not a possession.
Well, well, well, a blood donor with some spunk. Your-
No, Harry interrupted, I don't think you understand. I'm not his blood donor; he's my vampire.
The writing shook as if laughing. I apologize then, master blood donor. But now, let us not argue. This book and all its coveted secrets are open to you as all it is to all vampires. You found me for a reason, did you not?
Well…I sorta have a feeling…but never mind.
No. Never doubt your intuition. It's what separates great vampires from mediocre ones.
Harry smiled. You mean like Divination? Because my brother Charlie told me about that subject. He said it was a complete crock. And don't even get me started on the teacher. She-
I am well acquainted with the courses at Hogwarts, young wizard- Harry flinched -and you are right about one thing: that batty old witch knows absolutely nothing about Divination, but then again, neither do most of the teachers there.
Harry laughed, biting his lip to stop himself. That isn't very-
It's the truth, but back to our previous discussion, I wasn't talking about Divination. Every wizard has the ability to foretell or predict the future. Most, though, cannot or will not tap into it. Your intuition or 'gut feeling' is probably your innate talent leaking through in whatever way it can.
Sorry, but I'm afraid that don't have any innate talents. I don't really have any talents to begin with…Except maybe Quidditch, but I'm told thatI got that from my father.
Believe me young Harry; you sell yourself short. Now come, tell me what your problem is.
Almost unable to stop himself, Harry let the words spill onto the parchment. I…I…how do you counteract a potion that kills vampires when they drink too much of their donor's blood?
A lot of protective potions have been created for that purpose. What are the ingredients?
Um…Harry thought hard, dried marigold seeds, a strand of unicorn tail, mistletoe, a bezoar, melted chocolate, dried reeds and a bloodstone. Dra- my vampire said that the same ingredients to the curse make up the ingredients to the cure. Something about adding them in different order…I think.
You think? Well, your vampire must be very smart to brew such a complicated potion- The Bloodstone Protectorate. And you need to know the cure? Why?
I told you. I don't know! All I know is that ever since I found you, I keep waking up from these half dreams and jumbled memories and the only thing I can remember is that I need this cure! And…and it feels like something's been leading me to you. I haven't able to put your book down since I found it! If you know the cure…please…please…
Dreams? Well then, do you have the ingredients?
No…no, but I can get them.
Good…
Bloodstone Protectorate Potion
Take a large standard cauldron, and fill it three quarters of the way with three-parts water, and one part cat blood. Then add an infusion of unicorn tail and mistletoe and let the connotation bubble for a fortnight. It should gradually turn clear. Then, at exactly midnight, add three drops of melted chocolate and stir twenty times clockwise and then fifteen times counterclockwise. Wait ten days and then pour the potion into a smaller container. The potion should bubble and turn a putrid green color. Let the potion simmer for exactly twenty-four minutes and then crush the reeds using the bezoar and sift them into the potion. Exactly one month later, drop the bezoar in with one drop of the blood that the potion is going to protect. Another drop of the same blood should be dropped on top of the bloodstone. Finally, just before the potion is administered, add the crushed marigold seeds.
Understand?
I think…I think so. Harry scribbled the instructions down on the spare scrap of paper. But, why does this take so long?
Because, naturally, cures take longer to make than poisons do, just like it is easier to destroy something rather than create it.
But the blood? We didn't need that the fist time.
Yes, you did. Maybe your vampire just took it while you were…otherwise occupied? Harry's lips pursed as he remembered the sleeping potion forced down his throat. Your blood is what binds the potion to the bloodstone and makes the potion protect you. This is a very complicated potion. I wouldn't recommend trying it yourself. You need to understand the mechanics behind the potion to even attempt to make it.
Why can't you teach me that?
The book laughed again. I can, but only because you amuse me so much…Harry. Gather all the ingredients and talk to me again.
Okay, but it'll take some time; a lot of these ingredients aren't available at the school store or…even in you know, England...
Take all the time you need. And Harry…if there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask.
Harry shivered, suddenly remembering that this person- Tom was a vampire; was probably still alive, and…and Harry had just told him his name and he already seemed to have figured out that Harry was a wizarding student at Hogwarts…he'd have to be careful not to be pulled in too deep. He already had enough problems with vampires and he was beginning to realize that once you met a vampire, you were stuck with him.
Thanks, I- Harry slammed the book shut and promptly sat on it as the Slytherin room shot open and Draco stormed into the room.
Draco couldn't help stalking into the room; robes flaring like a true Slytherin's. He was angry, and if it made an impression on Harry, then so much the better.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, his anger only slightly abating when he saw Harry's startled flinch.
"I-" he mumbled.
"You," Draco mocked, "Are late for practice, in fact, you missed it completely! You're lucky Flint didn't kick you off the team right then and there, but be sure that your ass is probably going to be kicked later tonight. You're a first year, Harry, and you've been put on the team because a recommendation from Snape. Do you have any idea how this looked?"
Harry's mouth fell open. "I missed it?" he asked slowly.
"Oh for Merlin's sake! Of course you missed it. Why are you doing this Harry?" Harry bit his lip tightly. "I don't buy this feinted apathy; you were genuinely excited about Quidditch and then you go and miss it." Draco threw up his arms in exasperation. "I don't know what do you with anymore. You're always so hot and cold. It feels like you missed the practice on purpose."
"I did not!" Harry shouted back, standing up indignantly. Glaring, Harry stomped over to the couch and picked up his thrown belongings rifling through them frantically.
"What are you doing now?" Draco muttered.
"Getting my Quidditch gear." Harry snapped, green eyes flashing, "Now kindly move."
Draco didn't budge against Harry's slighter weight trying in vain to shove him aside. "Harry, practice is over. Everyone's at dinner."
"Dinner?" Harry's voice wavered, "Well…well then I'll go to dinner and at least apologize to Marcus. Move."
Draco sighed. "Later Harry. I think we should talk first."
Unexpectedly, Harry's lower lip quivered and he burst into tears, droplets rolling down his face. "I'm sorry!" he sobbed, "I didn't want to miss practice- I didn't mean to!"
Disturbed, Draco picked him up and patted his back awkwardly. He couldn't remember ever seeing Harry really cry before. He was always smiles and laughter with him. "Okay, Harry. Relax…shush, Harry. Stop crying; it's okay." Unsure, Draco rocked Harry back and forth until he started to calm down.
"What's wrong?" Draco whispered.
"I…I…" Harry began to sniffle again, but quickly sucked it up, "I'm just so tired-" That was true; Draco could practically feel the tiredness seeping from Harry's bodies. It was too much- two blood donors- for a small, already underweight, eleven year boy to take. "And…and," I'm having these dreams "I don't know…" he whispered lamely, "But, I want to go home."
"Okay," Draco said uncertainly, "We'll owl the Weasleys'. They'll come get us for a bit, and you can sort out your head in peace. How does that sound Harry?"
Harry shook his head, his hair brushing against Draco's chin. "No, not there. I just…just want to go home…but first…I think I've got to find it."
Draco hand was steady on Harry's back. "You've got a home Harry. It's with me, and Ron and Hermione, and all the other Weasley's. We all love you…you know that, right?"
Harry smiled tiredly. "Just let me know when we get there," he whispered confidentially. "Cause I wanna sleep for a long time after we arrive."
"I think it's time for bed about now." Draco murmured, lifting Harry up and carrying him into his dorm. Quietly, he pulled back the curtains and placed Harry on the bed, tucking him in like he did when Harry was eight. "You're talking crazy."
"Yeah," Harry cracked open his eyes for an instant and then closed them. "Forget what I said, kay?"
"No problem." Draco shut the curtains and dimmed the lights with a flick of his wand. "Night Harry."
"Night Draco," Harry called, "And…Sorry."
He was asleep before Draco had left the room.
>>>
Harry jerked out of bed an hour later, woken by another bad dream. He had hoped that they would stop after he discovered the book's secrets, but apparently not, unless there was something more to Tom that he didn't know. Of that, he wouldn't be surprised. Harry got up and let himself collapse into a seat. Tiredly, he started to pen a letter of apology to his team captain. He was definitely going to be in Flint's black books for a while…a long while…probably until Flint himself graduated. People with brains the size of peas didn't tend to forgive easily.
Harry caught himself yawning again and stopped, cutting himself off midway through. If there was no one else, then he would be strong, and he would do it himself- he had started out alone and he could darn well keep it that way.
To Be Continued…
A/N 2: Ha, ha, ha, very soon dear Harry is going to have to learn how to rely on other people…
Also, I posted some answers to questions I received below. If there are any more, please let me know and I'll include them in the next chapter, which be coming soon. I promise…kinda.
Questions:
Will Draco tell Harry about being a Parseltongue?
I'm sure it'll slip out at one point of another. Vampires have the gift of serpent speak naturally, but blood donors and normal humans don't.
Was the girl in the bathroom Moaning Myrtle?
Yes. But she wasn't put there by Riddle and the basilisk. She was killed by another person and much more recently.
Who is the third vampire?
The third vampire isn't in Hogwarts, but the book does belong to him. Someone else put it there. Can you guess who?
Will there be a similar plot to the SS/PS story line?
No. I might use some of JKR minor plot devices as you can see, but I started this story before the sixth book with the intention of it being an AU. None of the plots of the seven years will be like the books.
When will Snape finally die? That IS what the potions supposed to do, right? After he's drunk a certain amount, it kills him?
Yes. When someone's drunk more than two pints of Harry's blood, the bloodstone will turn cold, which is Harry's sign that the curse is taking effect. Then the person who drunk too much will die within fifteen minutes.