ATTENTION: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T-M FOR NOT VERY MILD LANGUAGE...ALSO A JERK-FACE IS GOING TO DIE

From that day on, we came to an understanding. He wasn't vile to me, I wasn't rude to him, and we became friends of sorts. He hadn't brought up the Dursley's yet, but I knew he would eventually. I knew that wouldn't be a pleasant moment, but until then I was content to sit in his potions lab with him, in the basement, of course, and help him with ingredients. While I wasn't bad at potions, I was never going to be a master, so I just chopped and diced and whatever else he directed me to.

At any given point he had at least four delicate, complicated potions brewing and woke up in the middle of the night, or day, because like me, he was also nocturnal, to attend to them. I'm guessing it was all the death eater meetings that made him nocturnal. He was also making me take daily potions. They fought off the fatigue and acheness that was constantly plaguing me.

I still hadn't picked the book back up. But I was slowly finding out what was changing. My hair, once unruly and consistently tousled, was now manageable. It was slightly frightening. Also my sense of smell was improving. I now knew where everything in the kitchen was just by smell. I noticed that I wasn't hungry as often, but there was this weird tingling feeling in my throat that wouldn't go away. It got stronger each day and was soon bothering me.

Finally I couldn't take it any more. This burning was driving me insane. I opened the book again, watching as the cramped handwriting appeared on the page.

'Since you probably know the basics now, having ignored this book for so long, you're probably feeling the Thirst. It signals the beginning of the Final Change. This means you're maturing as a vampire. It also means you must do what vampires are most famous for, begin drinking blood.'

I could feel my shock and outrage at that statement, but grudgingly kept reading.

'You're typical vampire will be put off of regular food for at least a few days before this to get your system used to the idea of digesting blood. You will have to begin hunting soon, especially when it gets to the point of being unbearable, or else you will begin to waste away. The first time you feed, you will have to completely drain them of their lifeblood, effectively killing them. But after that, you should be able to leave them alive and well.'

The chapter ended, and with a sigh I closed the book. The next day, I couldn't eat my breakfast.

Snape apparently knew what was going on, "in a few days, you're going hunting." I glared at him, "I refuse to sustain myself on the blood of humans." He didn't comment on that, just continued eating. Stupid human, able to eat food.

The next day, it got worse.

I stayed in my room, curtains drawn, door locked, moaning to myself. I stayed like that for the next two days, each day worse than the last.

Finally, one night Snape magically unlocked my door, practically blowing it to bits in the process. I hissed at the sudden intrusion, but really couldn't do anything about it. I had almost gone feral. I had very little humanity left in me at that point.

He grabbed me by my upper arm and yanked me up. Before I had a chance to react to that, we spun on the spot, apparating.

I wasn't sure where we were when we appeared, but I immediately wrenched myself out of his grasp and fell on the wet grass, the cool night air a nice change from the stifling air of my room.

"Harry, you have to feed. You are wasting away," Snape said. His low voice calmed some of my outrage. I took a deep breath, struggling to retain rational thought, "I don't want to have to feed from another living being to survive. I read the book, I have to kill someone. I've never killed anyone before." I look away, knowing that, while it was technically true, I was the cause of a lot of people dieing.

I felt two strong hands grip my shoulders and looked up into the onyx eyes of the potions professor, "Harry, I know that. But inside that very door is a man. He is not a good man. He is a true murderer. He is a muggle who goes and targets young children. He has killed before and will kill again. And you can stop it. You know what he is and you can take him out. Just give into your instincts, don't think, just do."

I bit my lip, trust the head of Slytherin to word killing a muggle in a way that seems appealing. In the house beside us, I could sense one lone person. I slowly nodded. I took a deep breath and cleared my mind, letting my instincts take over.

When I looked around, my vision was sharper and hearing clearer. I gave in to the beast within me.

Ignoring the black-clad man beside me, I stalked to the backdoor of the house, not making a sound as I moved. I ghosted across the ground, later I would marvel at the grace with which I moved, but now my mind was on the subsistence behind this door. Without thinking, I pulled out my wand. With a whispered 'alohamora' the lock clicked open and I silently slid into the house.

It was dark in here too, I could hear a muggle tv going on and the horrid excuse of a person shouting at it.

"Wha- no! Come on you idiots! My grandmother would play better than you assholes! Get your head out of your ass and use your brain! Motherfucker, I just lost five hundred bucks because of you bastards!" Someone needed to clean his mouth out. With soap.

I glided into the living room, walking up behind him. I was truly disgusted at the sight that met me. A forty something year old man sat in his boxers and food stained shirt, sitting in a lawn chair with a beer in one hand and a bag of chips in another.

He finally noticed me. Standing up, he turned around, taking another gulp of his beer, "what the fuck are you doing here you prick? Get out of here before I beat your ass." I didn't move. "What? Are you deaf? I said, get your ass out of my fucking house!" I shook my head, "nope, I have different plans."

He looked me up and down, "eh? What is a faggot like you going to do to me?" I suppressed a grin, "do you really want to know?" Before he had a chance to reply, I moved, lighting fast, and slammed him into the wall. He was now unconscious. I let my instincts fully take over, bending down and attacking his neck, practically tearing out his jugular.

I drank until I was sated, the burning in the back of my throat almost non-existent. I stood up, looking in disgust at the ashen body at my feet. I reached down, I couldn't feel a pulse. I shook my head and left the house, finding Snape waiting for me on the front lawn. I silently took his arm and we apparated back to his small cottage.

Sighing, I told him I was going to bed. First I walked into the bathroom, taking off my clothes and tossing them in the hamper. Then I stepped into the shower, turning it as hot as I could stand, and furiously scrubbed at my skin until it was raw. I just couldn't get rid of that disgusting feeling that was plaguing me.

Finally my body couldn't take it any more and I was forced to get out and towel off. I changed into pajamas and went to my room, noting my door was intact once again. I closed it and collapsed onto my bed, falling into an exhausted sleep.

A/N: So...yea. Happy holidays and junk. I was going to update on Christmas, as a present, but I looked at the chapter and I decided that it was a bit dark and might ruin your holiday...also I didn't have it done. The reason I made the guy such a jerk is so no one would feel bad he died. I hate it when good, innocent people in the stories die for almost no reason. For those of you who reviewed and favorited and subscribed, thank you very much, it often makes my day. One person has found out what's going on. I've tried dropping as many hints as I can without outright yelling it, but hey, I'm as thick as a brick sometimes.

In other, personal news, I had a great Christmas. I go back to school on Tuesday (not yay), and today I got my lip pierced and it hurts more now than when I got it pierced. So I'm trying to distract myself. So, why don't you tell me what you got for your holiday, and while doing so, tell me what you thought of my story? If you don't care about my life, you might have wanted to stop reading a while ago, but if you want to know, I got a sewing machine and some really cool craft stuff for Christmas from my parents. I asked for sharp weapons, but they said no.

So happy new year and best wishes!