~ Chapter 2
Charms with the Slytherins were always an ordeal. Although the Ravenclaws tended to get on better with the Slytherins than the other houses, they were certainly not immune to pranking and general assholery.
Sitting at the back of the class, Harry watched as Blaise Zabini tapped his wand onto a paper airplane and threw it at Kevin Entwhistle's head when Professor Flitwick turned his back to find up an apple for a class demonstration.
When he turned around, he almost fell off the stool he was standing on when he saw Kevin Entwhistle running about, surrounded by a mob of whizzing paper airplanes that kept crashing into his head.
Harry smiled into his hand but he could see that his Head of House was not similarly amused.
"Finite!" said Professor Flitwick with a frown. "Who is responsible for this? Mr. Entwhistle, do you know?"
Kevin hesitated – he hadn't actually seen who had been throwing the airplanes, but he could easily guess.
"I'm not sure who did it but I know that they came from that side of the room," he pointed at the Slytherins.
Professor Flitwick harrumphed. "Well, anything to say for yourselves? I promise you the punishment will be lighter if you confess. No? Alright. A clever trick to be sure but if you are all so bored of today's topic already I know just the thing to challenge you."
He hopped off his stool and walked behind his desk, where he promptly disappeared behind the tall stacks of parchment.
"Aha! Here we are," he said, returning to the front of his desk with a stack of parchment in his hands. "A surprise test is in order, I think."
A collective groan went up.
"No complaints. This is a fair way to evaluate your understanding of the material. And, to discourage pranking for the future, the other second years will be taking another version of this test as well and I will be sure to mention that it is administered because of rowdy behaviour from you."
Harry watched as the Slytherins shrank into their seats. Professor Flitwick had a reputation as one of the more lenient professors; clearly, he wasn't in the mood for mercy today.
Once he finished handing out all the papers, Professor Flitwick gave the signal to begin.
Harry flipped over the parchment and began reading. Very quickly, his anxiousness left him.
No longer needing to sleep meant that Harry could spend upwards of fifteen hours a day studying in the library. Although he had gone through the second year material at a fair pace, he found, for the very first time since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, that he had no trouble answering any of the questions on the test. He had to bite onto the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning like a fool; he was so incredibly satisfied at being able to excel. For once, he really felt like a Ravenclaw.
xxxxxx
Everyone knew that the top student in second year was Hermione Granger, a bossy muggleborn who seemed to have been erroneously sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. They also knew that there was a dogfight for second place between Terry Boot and Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin that Harry had never spoken to.
Terry was pretty sensitive about his marks and held court over the other second years in the Ravenclaw common room whenever he did particularly well and tended to sulk and be irritable to everyone when he didn't.
In general, Ravenclaws did well in classes. Except Harry, of course. His performance was always decidedly middling. He believed it to be a big reason for his ostracism. In Ravenclaw, even if you were a bit strange, if you got good marks, there would always be someone willing to talk to you.
So Harry was very eager to rush to his next Charms class, where Professor Flitwick would announce the results of test to the class. He couldn't wait to see the reaction of his housemates –who, along with his professors, had come to view him as a bit slow – once they heard the results. Harry arrived to the class at the same time Professor Flitwick did. His Head of House had patted him on the shoulder and congratulated him on his performance.
Harry could tell that Professor Flitwick had been a little worried for him and seemed relieved that he was paying more attention to his studies. As he took his seat, he quashed the voice in his head that said: But not worried enough to do anything about it or to talk to you.
By performing well on the test, Harry felt vindicated. It was like an affirmation of his right to be in Ravenclaw and to be in Hogwarts. It wouldn't hurt if it got him a few people to talk too as well.
At the end of the class, Professor Flitwick made his announcement.
"I have marked your test papers from our previous class and I am handing them back now. Overall, you didn't do too badly – but not well enough to be causing a ruckus and ignoring a lesson," he stared pointedly at the Slytherins. "The top marks overall were earned by Mr. Potter, who has clearly read ahead, followed by Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger from Gryffindor. Alright, class dismissed."
Harry couldn't help flushing when several Ravenclaws turned to look at him. The Slytherins had never heard of him before and occupied their time either patting Draco in consolation or ignoring everything in favour of packing their bags.
Keeping his head down and allowing his long messy hair cover his face, he tried to leave class as unobtrusively as possible.
"Ah!" He cried when he felt someone shove into him. He accidentally stepped onto the inside of his too-large robes as he tried to regain steady footing and ended up falling down.
"Look here mudblood. I don't know how you managed to cheat under Flitwick's eye but I'm going to find out – and when I catch you, it's not going to be pretty – even if we are in the same house. So stop giving Ravenclaws a bad name, yeah?" Terry Boot sneered at him before storming off, Lisa Turpin and Morag McDougal rushing to catch up. The Slytherins snickered at him as they walked past and the other Ravenclaws pretended not to see anything. No one offered to help him up. The students quickly dispersed for dinner.
Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes and picked himself up.
Well, that didn't quite go according to plan, he thought bitterly to himself.
Dusting himself off, he clenched his hands tightly in an effort to prevent his frustration, embarrassment and anger from welling up and causing a scene, and marched towards the main doors for a walk. Fresh air would be good to clear his head.
xxxxxx
By the time that Harry arrived at the edge of the lake, he had walked off his more volatile emotions by ranting in his head.
It had been naïve of him to assume that just performing well on one test would be enough to open the way to social acceptance. Firstly, why did he want to be friends with people who had ignored and shunned him in the first place? Case in point: when he had fallen down in the hall, had anyone extended a hand to help? Not at all. Not even Mandy Brocklehurst, whom Harry had always believed to be one of the nicer Ravenclaws. Secondly, what was the point of gaining a few flimsy friendships anyway? Even Harry had noticed that his housemates didn't form loyal groups; people were constantly sniping at each other when they had the chance. And finally, what had possessed him to perform at the best of his ability on that test? It would only draw unnecessary attention to him from other students and, more importantly, the faculty. It was like he had developed temporary idiot syndrome and had forgotten that he was a vampire. It wouldn't be too hard for others to figure it out if they were watching him more closely.
Any way I look at it, it was a terrible move.
He let out a frustrated groan and mussed his hair before slumping bonelessly next to the water.
In fact, other than the OWLs and the NEWTs, doing spectacularly well on regular school tests didn't matter too much. Assuming that he continued to maintain a lacklustre performance record, he would be safe from expulsion and also safe from further harassment. He just had to make sure that he continued to study the material well – after all, he could use quizzes to test his understanding of the material, he just had to purposefully write some wrong answers – and perform to the best of his ability on his OWLs and NEWTs. Almost dying and becoming a vampire has done incredible things for my sense of motivation, he thought with a smile.
Plan firmly in mind, he picked absentmindedly on a frayed edge of his school robe.
He had been orphaned when he was a baby and had been sent to live with his closest living relatives, the Dursleys. When he'd received his Hogwarts letter, he'd been ecstatic but the Dursleys didn't want anything to do with it. They had refused to let him attend for several weeks until he begged and pleaded them into agreeing. However, they had refused to support him in any way – including paying for his school supplies. Since his parents had left him with nothing – "They were horrible drunks and had massive debts; we sold everything to pay it off. Be grateful we didn't sell you!" – it was almost the same as refusing to let Harry attend.
He remembered panicking about how he would communicate his situation to Hogwarts deep into the night inside his tiny cupboard under the stairs until, like magic, his wishes were answered and one of the spiders transformed into a small owl. He had remembered that all his Hogwarts letters had arrived via owls and had scribbled onto a scrap piece of paper a note about his lack of money.
Eventually, he'd received a response from Hogwarts. Apparently, there was a fund set aside of such cases as his and, though modest, it was enough to see him through his schooling. Although it meant using second hand books and robes – hence it was a few sizes too large on him – Harry didn't really mind. To him, being at Hogwarts was the most important thing.
xxxxxx
He hadn't realized how much time had passed while he was daydreaming but he guessed that he had probably missed dinner. He wasn't too worried though. After reading Hogwarts: A History, he knew that he would be able to get something to eat if he could find one of the house elves and his knack for knowing everyone's location seemed to extend to house elves as well.
At that moment, that same sense told him that someone was approaching him.
He leapt to his feet with his wand in hand and whipped his head around, trying to see who it was. The 'feel' of the person was unfamiliar and definitely not someone from Hogwarts.
Suddenly, he felt a hand clamp over his mouth.
Immediately he began struggling. He tried to tug off the hand and stomp and kick and bite. He twisted and thrashed. But even with his newfound strength, he couldn't budge his attacker. That meant… it was a vampire?
"Shhh," a voice said into his ear.
Who the hell who listen to that!
"I don't mean you any harm, I promise. I just want to talk."
Harry stilled and stopped struggling for a moment.
"If I remove my hand now, will you promise not to scream or curse me?"
Oh, what am I doing… Harry nodded.
The hand slowly lifted from his mouth and the body that had been hunched around his much smaller form, slowly eased away. Harry turned, with no small amount of trepidation.
He was met with a very tall man with an austere but handsome face. His hair was black like his eyes and his skin was very, very white. Vampire.
Harry recoiled a little when the saw the man's arm move but he merely touched it to his heart and executed a very deep bow.
"My name is Sanguini and I apologize for the offense, my lord. Before I begin, might I suggest we move a little closer to the forest? Standing out in the open may not be very good for my continued existence should I be found out."
More than a little mystified, he nodded and followed the man a few steps so that they were standing in the shade of the Forbidden forest.
"As you may have surmised, I am a vampire. The same vampire who bit you the other evening."
Harry hissed is surprise and leapt back a little, tensed up.
Sanguini held his hands up in a signal of surrender, "I apologize for the pain that it no doubt caused you – but it had to be done. Your mother had suppressed your vampirism as a baby and I needed to bite you to reawaken your vampiric traits. I promise that I drew no blood from you."
"My mother?" He was still wary and distrustful but Harry couldn't help but be hooked by the subject. He didn't even have a single picture of his parents.
"Yes, she was the last living pureblood in Britain after your grandfather killed himself. I think she attended Hogwarts as well, didn't anyone tell you? Your father did too."
Harry couldn't help it – he stared at Sanguini with his green eyes opened impossibly wide and his mouth opened in a small "O" of surprise. Not one of his professors had ever mentioned that they knew his parents.
"She left the vampires and hid herself very carefully in the human realm but she turned James Potter before conceiving you. This makes you the last Pureblood in Britain and, effectively, my king."
What?
"I'm sure that you have many questions but it is very dangerous for both of us if I continue to lurk on Hogwarts' grounds. I have been watching you for some time. Can you sneak out of the cupboard during the summer?"
Still processing what he had learned, Harry nodded dumbly.
"Excellent. I will meet you during the summer; sneak out of the house on the evening of the first night that you return in June. Until then, do not let anyone discover that you are a vampire; I shudder to think of the consequences if they discover that you are a pureblood. As you may have noticed, as a pureblood, you don't burn in the sun and you do not need blood for sustenance, though it will make you stronger than you are now."
Sanguini, knelt in front of him and clasped his shoulders. "My lord, please promise me that you will do nothing to draw attention to yourself. This is absolutely critical. Do you promise?"
Harry nodded.
Sanguini let out a sigh of relief. "Good. Now, before I go, would you like to drink my blood? It is customary for purebloods to drink from other vampires than directly from humans. Doing so will make you much stronger but I also fear that your increased strength may draw attention to you. But I cannot trespass on the sanctity of this decision; you must be the one to make it."
Putting his other thoughts aside for a moment, Harry thought about the consequences. If he did become much stronger and faster, like Sanguini, then it was more likely that others would find him out. However, if he was attacked, being stronger and faster would only help him.
Finally, Harry shook his head. "No, I won't drink from you right now." He wasn't planning on drawing any attention to himself anyway. Who would bother attacking a nobody?
"Alright," Sanguini said as he rose to his feet. He executed another deep bow and walked backwards a few steps before he began to turn away.
"Wait! How did my parents die? Do you know?"
Sanguini turned back. "Although I have my suspicions, I do not truly know. Until next time, my lord." He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
Author's Note: Had some free time (very rare) so I wrote the next chapter. I've plotted out the story already and I use it as motivation to write individual chapters. I'm going to have a lot of fun with clichés in this story, though I'll try to put them together in hopefully interesting ways. Please note that this is not beta'd by anyone but me.