DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, that's JK Rowling's creation.

Author's Note: Thanks to everybody who reviewed. My muse decided that last night at bedtime was a good time to write. Here's chapter 2. =D

Re-Awakening - Chapter 2

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The last thing he recalled before blacking out was losing count of how many times he'd been stabbed.

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Harry frowned. How could he be dead? He certainly felt alive. He could hear his heartbeat and the rest of the usual sounds from the Dursley household. And he certainly could smell the usual smells. He could feel the air as it wafted through the crack in his window and across his skin. But there was something else. He couldn't put his finger on it.

'Maybe it's time I opened my eyes and sat up,' he thought. 'Well, at least I should sit up and put on my glasses, anyway.'

He slowly lifted the threadbare sheet off his body and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Oh how he hated waking up in the morning! He reached for his glasses from the nightstand but they weren't where he usually put them.

'Great! Now I'll have to hunt for them,' he sighed. He hated being without his glasses almost as much as he hated being without his wand. He felt vulnerable without them.

It took him a few moments after he opened his eyes to figure out what was wrong. He'd found his glasses, but the lenses were cracked in one eye and missing altogether from the other. There was a large crack in the left lens, with a few smaller cracks branching off. It reminded him of the old wicker grass rake Uncle Vernon made him use - it was a useless garden tool, really. But Vernon liked making Harry work harder than necessary.

'Wait a minute!'

Harry picked up the remains of his glasses. There were six cracks altogether in that lens.

Normally he wouldn't be able to tell unless he was wearing his glasses.

'I can see? What the blazes is going on?' he asked himself. Before he could answer, he heard a tapping on his window - probably Hedwig coming back from her hunt.

Harry yelped as he turned to the window to see a figure floating outside his window. He reached for his wand but remembered his Uncle had locked it and his trunk in his old cupboard. He quickly backed away from the window, putting as much distance between the stranger and himself.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Mister Potter," the figure said. It was a man's voice. It was a familiar voice. A rich velvety baritone voice, with an edge of reassurance. It made him feel a little better.

He stopped backing up and stared at the figure outside the window. The man was silhouetted by the streetlight shining from behind, but appeared to be dressed in muggle clothing. He was wearing no cloak, no robes, no headwear of any kind. He seemed to be of average build, with shoulder-length hair.

"I simply wish to talk to you," the man continued. Harry had to admit the voice soothed him. He felt compelled to invite this stranger in.

Harry opened the window. "Please," he began, "do come in."

The man flew into the room and landed gracefully on his feet facing the wall. Harry could see that the man was finely dressed. His dark hair was silky, tinted slightly orange by the street lights. He was about six feet tall, and of average build. Harry couldn't tell for sure, but he was certain that this man was in perfect shape under those nice clothes. Inwardly he wondered if he'd get to see the man naked, but quickly squashed that thought as the man started speaking.

"Did you know, Mister Potter," the man began, his silky voice washing over Harry, "that many dark creature wards are voided simply by inviting one into your home?"

Harry froze. His mind raced frantically to understand what had just occurred. 'Oh bugger it all! What have I done?'

As if to answer the question, the man turned around and fixed his gaze on Harry. His face was beautiful. He had piercing pale blue eyes, the square chin, and that crooked smile. It was Frank. Harry angered as he remembered what the skinhead had told him last night, 'Seems your fairy mate buggered off and done run home faggot.'

"You've invited a vampire into your house, my dear boy."

Harry was shocked. But nothing could prepare him for what came next.

"Of course, the wards could have been set up to allow a vampire to enter at will anyway, Mister Potter."

It was apparent to Harry that Frank was talking about him. Harry felt his temper rising, this was no time for games. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? And why did you leave me to be mugged last night?"

"You are entirely too trusting young one," the vampire began. "Do you always believe your assailants?"

Harry frowned as Frank continued, "I was attacked shortly after you were. I merely played dead so I could watch the proceedings. You certainly handled yourself very well. The looks on their faces when you got back up was wonderful!"

"I don't understand," Harry began, "You make it sound like I was a vampire to begin with? How could I be a vampire if you didn't turn me?"

The vampire continued, "I'll get to that. I will say before I continue that those four will never harm anyone ever again."

Harry paled at the thought - did he really kill somebody?

"No," Frank answered.

"Then wha--?" Harry stopped as he realized something. "Did you just read my mind?"

~No,~ the vampire answered him. ~I can hear your thoughts. I can also broadcast my own.~

Harry shook his head. "I should have known," he said, "I'm sure it's in one of our books somewhere. Hermione would know all about it."

Frank let his gaze wander around the room briefly before waving his hand slightly at the bedroom door. "Your relatives haven't been in bed for very long," he told Harry, as if to explain his actions. "We don't have much time before your re-awakening is complete, and I have much to explain to you. I've just cast a silencing charm and shielded the room to prevent your escape."

Harry began to object but the vampire put up his hand to interrupt.

"Most of what you've read about Vampires in your books is irrelevant, Harry. All those fancy ways to kill a vampire are fine and dandy for the turned, but will not work with a born vampire. Born vampires, or Regals as we call ourselves, are essentially human until our first transformation. Until that happens we do not need blood to survive. We can live and die as any mortal does, and are susceptible to many of a turned vampire's weaknesses, excluding Holy Water, Sunlight, and Silver. Most parents enable the awakening when the child is old enough to understand what they truly are. This usually happens sometime between their fifth and tenth birthday.

"To accomplish this, the child is drained of their blood. When their heart stops beating the transformation begins. The child awakens and the parents provide a source of fresh blood. Usually the child drinks from both the parents and a human caretaker. When the child has had his fill, he falls into slumber while the transformation from human to vampire continues. Within an hour of awakening, the youngling transforms into his natural state.

"This is the most dangerous part of the re-awakening. Any non-Regal is at risk, as the newborn Regal will be compelled by bloodlust for the first and only time of it's life. During this time they will drink between bursts of pain. Only a Regal stands any chance of survival; they can regenerate fast enough to satiate the newborn's thirst.

"The reason why we're sealed in this room is because the newborn must be allowed to finish the re-awakening in a familiar environment. If not, the confusion caused by the pain and fear will drive mad and he will die. When the transformation is complete the Regal's natural form is finalized, and he will never again succumb to bloodlust.

"Regals do not feed on blood alone, rather they live on the life force contained within. They do not even need to drink blood in order to absorb a human's life force. They can absorb it simply by being near one, or," Frank paused for a moment before continuing. "Well, there are other bodily substances that carry an extremely high concentration of the life energy a Regal needs to survive, if you catch my meaning."

At this Harry blushed. He still had what seemed to be a million questions running through his mind, but one came to the forefront.

"But my parents were human. I can't be a vampire!"

The elder vampire looked down on Harry with sad eyes. "No," he began, "they were Regals. gave up their powers so that you would live. They knew of the prophecy, that Voldemort wanted to kill you. You were vulnerable and they took on humanity so you could absorb their power and live through the night. They did everything they could to protect you and for that you lived."

Harry still didn't understand, but a sudden flash of intense pain made him feel like he was being ripped in two.

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