A Vampire's Soul

A Vampire’s Soul, chapter fourteen

Pairings: Harry/Draco, slight Harry/Ron/Hermione, Ron/Hermione, slight Harry/Ron, Harry/others

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Vampires, so there’s blood mentioned; Slash; some Het, and multi-partners.

Words: About 5, 250

Notes: Trying to do things different in this fic than others.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and its characters, nor do I own anything from Dracula.

Chapter written: April 22nd, 2007

.-.

Snow was falling lightly outside. Harry stretched, lean body arching off the bed. He was too comfortable and warm to move from his spot, and the morning light shining through the window made him sleepy. Harry rolled over and came face to face with Remus.

Harry’s breath hitched.

“Have a good nap?” said Remus. “You do know that we should have gotten up hours ago and been on our way to Grimmauld Place by now?”

“I know, but the sun makes me tired,” Harry gave Remus a lazy smile. “And you wore me out this morning.”

Remus suddenly frowned and raised a hand up to touch the scratch on Harry’s cheek. “And obviously I did quite a number on you last night.”

“Hey, I’m alive, aren’t I? That means that you were wrong in thinking that you’d rip me to pieces.”

“I think you just behaved correctly,” said Remus. He slowly sat up and rubbed at his face. “We should get going. I’m sure everyone is worried about us.”

Harry sat up too, a mischievous smile on his face. “I actually wouldn’t mind doing this again. Especially the mounting.”

“Harry!” Remus gasped, going red.

.-.

“I KNEW IT!” Snape shouted, storming out of the kitchen and making his way to the fireplace. “I KNEW I shouldn’t have trusted Potter!”

“Please calm down, Severus,” said Arthur. “I’m sure they’re fine. Molly told me what Harry planned to do if things got out of hand. Besides, wouldn’t one of them be back by now if the other one… if the other didn’t survive?”

“It would be just like them to kill themselves!” roared Snape. He threw a handful of Floo Powder into the hearth and stepped inside.

“You’re being irrational,” said Arthur, trying to calm Snape down. “If you go rampaging into Remus’s home now you might make a fool of yourself.”

Snape just glared, but Arthur wasn’t sure if he was glaring at him in particular. Ignoring his warning, Snape bellowed out Remus’s home and in a swirl of green flames, he was gone. Arthur shook his head wearily and sighed. There were times when he wished he were Harry’s legal guardian.

It was just as Harry and Remus were sitting down in Remus’s kitchen with a cup of tea when Remus’s fireplace flashed and out rolled Snape.

“You didn’t shut off your Floo Network?” Harry asked when he heard the unmistakable sound of it being used.

“I guess in all the worry I forgot,” sighed Remus. “No doubt it’s someone…”

The door to the kitchen flew open and in strode Snape with his wand held out in front of him, his face an ugly purple.

“… Looking for us,” finished Remus.

“LUPIN!” Snape shouted.

“Good morning, Severus,” said Remus politely. He sipped his tea.

“POTTER!” snarled Snape.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” sneered Harry. His fangs were humming in a familiar way to him now, knowing that he was very thirsty, and if Snape weren’t careful he’ll find himself bitten again.

“YOU’RE AN ABSOLUTE DISGRACE TO THE NAME SAVIOR!” Snape carried on. “DON’T YOU KNOW THAT YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED? I’LL BET YOUR LITTLE STUNT IS MAKING DUMBLEDORE ROLL IN HIS GRAVE!”

Harry leapt from the table with lightning speed, ripped Snape’s wand out of his hand, and shoved Snape against the wall. The scene was all too familiar to Remus, except this time it was Snape that was up against the wall, facing Harry’s wrath.

“Don’t you ever—EVER—talk that way about Dumbledore again! You have no clue what Dumbledore would think if I decided to be with Remus tonight. You only THINK you know!”

“Severus, I would advise you not to provoke Harry any further. He hadn’t had any blood in the past twelve hours or so…”

“I don’t need advice from you, werewolf!” snarled Snape. Harry slammed Snape against the wall for that comment.

“I suggest you watch your mouth, because I could bite you right here, right now, if I really wanted to.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Snape sneered.

“Severus, no!” said Remus, standing up. “Please, don’t say any more. Harry, let him go. We need to get back to Grimmauld Place anyway.”

“Not until he apologizes for storming in here and threatening us.”

“I will do no such thing,” growled Snape.

“Your pride will be your downfall, Snape,” said Harry. He opened his mouth forebodingly, fangs gleaming.

“Stop it!” shouted Remus, and he placed a hand in front of Harry’s mouth. Harry immediately halted, not wanting to bite into Remus for fear he may succeed in tasting werewolf blood. “Now, you will both stop acting like howling monkeys, let go of each other, and calm down. If we keep fighting amongst ourselves, then Voldemort wins.”

Harry knew that Remus was right, but he didn’t like to admit it. Reluctantly, Harry released Snape and stepped back. Snape smoothed out his robes in a snooty manner and then picked up his wand and pocketed it.

“That’s better,” said Remus. “Now, Severus, would you like to join us in a cup of tea? I believe Earl Grey is your favorite?”

“No thanks,” said Snape stiffly. “I must return to Grimmauld Place and let everyone there know that you haven’t killed each other. Despite what others may think, there’s still a war on.”

Snape turned on the spot and left. Harry glared after him, wishing very much to attack him, but the hand on his shoulder kept him rooted to the spot.

“Don’t bother yourself with him,” said Remus gently, still sounding tired from his transformation. “Let’s just go back to Grimmauld Place. I’m sure Ron and Hermione are worried about you.”

For a second, Harry doubted that, but then mentally slapped himself. Of course Ron and Hermione are worried; why wouldn’t they be? Unless Hermione knew that they wouldn’t harm each other. She was a smart girl.

“All right,” he said, feeling more collected and ready to face the others. “Let’s go.”

.-.

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Remus were questioned by almost everyone that was still there. It was a shock to learn that they weren’t as aggressive toward each other as normally expected. Remus explained to Harry that usually when a vampire and a werewolf get locked together in the same room for too long, which was usually one or two days, then they ended up at each other’s throats. It hadn’t occurred to Harry how uncommon it was when he defended Remus against Snape (something a vampire very rarely ever did). Harry explained to them that he knew that he and Remus were different.

“There’s this bond between us, I think,” he said, cheeks heating up. “It’s a rare thing to happen to a vampire and werewolf, but I guess it’s possible.”

“One more rare thing to add to your list,” said Ron, smirking.

“It has a lot to do with us being so familiar with one another,” said Remus. “I think I remembered Harry’s scent while a werewolf, and that probably was what stopped me from hurting Harry too much, even though he was invading my territory.”

“So, is Harry a part of your pack now?” Hermione beamed.

“Something like that, yeah,” said Remus, smiling back.

Everyone in the room felt marginally better from knowing that Remus and Harry won’t be attacking each other for being too close for too long. But they’ve been warned that if Remus and Harry do end up having a tiff, they were to be left alone and not approached. Anyone trying to get involved in their fight might end up worse off than them.

“Oh, Harry dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You need to let all of us know when the next Order meeting will be.”

Harry’s brow rose. “How am I to know when to call a meeting?”

“When something important comes up,” said Remus. “Or there’s a problem that needs addressing. Actually, so far, I don’t think there’s anything that needs a meeting for, so don’t worry about it just yet, Harry. I’m sure you’ll know when to call a meeting.”

“What if someone else needs to address something important?” said Harry.

“Then they’d get a hold of you somehow and ask you to hold a meeting. They’d have to have a good reason, though.”

Mrs. Weasley suddenly enveloped Harry into her arms. Harry grunted from the force of it.

“I was so worried,” she sobbed. “I thought for sure that you’d be… I thought…”

“Molly, it’s all right,” said Remus, prying her arms from Harry. “He’s fine… and he’s legally an adult, which means he shouldn’t be babied.”

Mrs. Weasley went pink. “Yes, I know, I just can’t help worrying…”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, but I’ll be fine,” said Harry.

All of a sudden, Harry’s senses perked up. He lifted his head and sniffed the air around them. Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Ron, and Hermione stared at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” asked Remus. He was familiar with the look on Harry’s face.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. It’s just… I’m really thirsty right now and…” Harry buried his face into his hands, cheeks feeling warm.

“Oh, Molly, Harry needs blood, pronto,” exclaimed Remus. “Could you get him a goblet of that stag blood…”

Harry shook his head, interrupting Remus. “No, no… I don’t want animal blood…”

“Harry, if you’re thinking of biting Bill again…” said Mrs. Weasley in a warning tone. She must have found out about Harry taking some of Bill’s blood the other day.

“No, but I really need…” Harry raised his head again and inhaled deeply. He recognized that smell, and if he didn’t get some kind of human blood in him soon, he’ll go crazy.

Without another word, Harry took the stairs two at a time and made a beeline for Malfoy’s room.

“Oh, crap,” said Ron. “I think he’s after Malfoy.”

“Harry, wait!” said Hermione. “We’ll give you our blood! There’s no need to take Malfoy’s… Harry!”

Harry wasn’t listening. The scent of the one who was claimed as his soulmate was singing to him and he couldn’t stop himself. He threw the door open—it banged ominously against the wall—and skidded to a halt next to the bed.

Malfoy was sitting up, studying a textbook in his lap. He jumped when the door burst open and he stared wide-eyed at Harry.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Harry stared at him in silence, panting heavily, hair sticking up in all directions, and fingers curling into claws. When Harry opened his mouth to show his long fangs, Malfoy let out a small squeak. The look in Harry’s eyes was dangerous; there was no telling how much of Malfoy’s blood Harry would drain if he got a hold of him.

“Harry, stop!” shouted Hermione. She and Ron grabbed each of Harry’s arms and tried to drag him out of the room. Being as strong as he was, they were unable to do it. Draco finally understood what was going on and leapt from his spot in the bed and went for his wand.

“There’s no need for you to bite Malfoy,” said Ron, standing in front of Harry. He wasn’t fazed by the dark, maddening look that was on Harry’s face. Ron raised his chin high to show Harry his neck. “Look at this, Harry… check out this nice, pale, pureblooded neck…”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped at what Ron was doing.

“Yes, Harry,” said Hermione. “Look at Ron’s neck. Look at how smooth and tasty it is… Mmmm, yummy!”

“You’ve bitten me before,” said Ron, coming closer. Harry’s eyes dilated the moment there was nothing but Ron’s neck in his viewpoint. “Think about how good my blood tasted going down your throat . . . . Think of how wonderful it felt to have your stomach filled with my blood…”

No more needed to be said. Harry’s eyes glowed a deep green, and then he rushed forward and sank his fangs into Ron’s neck. Ron choked out a small gasp at the sudden pain, and Hermione and Malfoy gasped sharply at Harry’s sudden movement and the sound of his fangs breaking open skin. Harry held Ron up and pressed hard against his body with both arms around him. Hermione and Malfoy just continued to watch, Malfoy more frightened by it all than Hermione.

Once Harry was finished, Ron fell limply to the floor. Harry stood there, Ron’s blood dripping down his fangs and chin, as he stared at nothing in particular.

“Weasley saved my life,” said Malfoy, stunned. “I don’t believe it…”

“I doubt Harry would’ve killed you,” said Hermione as she stared, watery-eyed, at Ron.

Harry stirred. He slowly turned his head and stared at Malfoy. Malfoy let out another squeak.

“Harry, are you all right now?” said Hermione. “You’re not crazy for blood anymore, are you?” Her eyes darted back and forth from Harry to Ron, who was still and silent on the floor.

After a few moments of staring at her, Harry came out his trance. “Huh? Oh, yeah… I’m fine now…” He looked down at Ron. “Is he all right?”

“Why don’t you check for yourself?” said Hermione, folding her arms in irritation.

Harry ignored her mood and knelt beside Ron. He could hear Ron’s heart beat clearly from where he was, but he wanted to have skin on skin contact anyway, so he placed two fingers against the pulse on Ron’s neck. There was a strong heartbeat.

“He’s fine,” said Harry quietly. “Just needs some sleep.”

“And some Blood Replenisher!” snarled Malfoy, though he didn’t move a muscle to get any.

“I’ll get some,” sighed Hermione.

After she left, Harry turned Ron over into a better position, keeping his head in his lap. Gently, he moved some of the red strands from Ron’s face.

“I can’t believe he did that,” Harry whispered. “What if I lost control and drained him dry?”

“Then you’d probably turn him into a vampire, thinking it’s the best thing to do!” huffed Malfoy. “Honestly, Potter, you need to work on your morals.”

Harry brought his attention to Malfoy. When their eyes met, Harry inhaled sharply and his fangs grew.

“Quit looking at me like that!” said Malfoy in a terrified voice. “You just be happy with the blood you received from Weasley!”

“I wish I could be, but my body says differently…” Harry growled. He nearly stood from the floor to go after Malfoy, but Hermione came in with a bottle of Blood Replenisher, so he had to stay where he was.

“Here we are,” she said. She didn’t seem to notice the spooked out look on Malfoy’s face. She uncorked the vial and Harry helped her give Ron the potion.

“Hermione, perhaps you should put Ron to bed, and then stay there and watch over him.”

“What’re you going to do?” she said, eyeing Harry critically.

“Nothing, I’m fine now. I just want to ask Malfoy a few questions.”

She continued to stare at him suspiciously, but she reluctantly obeyed. Once she was gone, Harry stood and slowly walked to the bed. Malfoy backed up against the headboard, looking anxious.

“If you dare bite me after what your friend just did…”

“I’m not going to bite you, I was telling the truth. I want to ask you a couple important questions.”

Malfoy sat back into his comfy spot in the bed and pulled the covers around him more. “Well, ask and then go away, I’m busy studying for my NEWTS.”

“Snape’s really going to have an instructor come here and test you?”

“Yes, now ask me your questions,” said Malfoy impatiently.

“All right,” sighed Harry. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and tried not to stare at Malfoy’s neck. “First of all, do you think your mother would know what Regulus Black’s middle name was?”

Malfoy blinked. “How should I know?”

“Well, can I owl her?”

“Must you?”

“It’s important,” said Harry, leaning closer. “If I’m to defeat Voldemort, I must know this.”

Malfoy frowned, picking at a loose string in the blanket. He was silent for a few minutes, and Harry wanted to grab him and shake him, but he didn’t dare do anything to scare Malfoy away.

Finally, Malfoy said, “Sure, fine. I was going to owl her anyway; we can put the letters together.”

“Great,” smiled Harry. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—now what’s your other question?”

Harry exhaled long and slow before speaking. “I’m just curious about how you came to be on our side.”

Malfoy raised a brow, which was one of the last things he thought Malfoy would do when asked about it. After a small pause, Malfoy tilted his head back until the top part of his head was flat against the headboard, and sighed audibly.

“It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“How is it hard to explain?” said Harry, somewhat confused. “Just give me the facts. Is your mother on our side as well?”

“Yes, although she doesn’t like it all that much, and neither do I.” Malfoy sighed and brought his chin down to look at Harry again. “I still agree with a lot of the Dark Lord’s opinions, but… oh, I don’t know…”

“But what?” growled Harry, inching forward. “Is this just a way for you to survive? Don’t you care about anyone else but yourself?”

“Yes!” Malfoy said, exasperated. “I care deeply for my mother; or haven’t you noticed?”

“Who else? Do you care about your father?”

“Well, yeah… in a way, I guess. I mean, I know he’s fine as long as the Dark Lord doesn’t try killing him too.”

“Too?” said Harry. “Is Voldemort trying to kill you?”

Malfoy shivered. “And my mother. I thought you were listening in on the conversation we were having with Lupin that day we arrived?”

“Oh, yeah, I just thought Snape was making some of that up so that he could find a way to keep his promise to your mother.”

“Yes, that’s one reason, but the other reason is true. Remember Lupin said that I am on your side?”

“I guess what I’m asking is why; why did you decide to do it?”

Malfoy groaned in irritation. “Haven’t you been paying attention? It’s because You-Know-Who wants me dead! You and the Order were the only best option of survival for me, even though I wasn’t too thrilled about it.”

“You weren’t, but now you don’t mind?”

“I still don’t like it.”

“You said that you weren’t too thrilled, as in ‘past tense’, which means…”

“I’m talking about the past here, Potter, not that I used to be discontented about it and that now I’m not. God, Potter, quit trying to understand me.”

“Why not? What’s so wrong about that?”

“I—er—everything! And quit trying to get close to me!”

Harry moved away, astonished. He hadn’t realized that he’d been inching closer and closer to Malfoy during their conversation. He looked at Malfoy through his lashes as he fought with the monster inside. Harry was beginning to wonder just why his body was still not satisfied with the blood he received from Ron. Was it because he had Ron’s blood before and the energy and strength that came from Ron just wasn’t enough anymore? Or perhaps it was because Malfoy was sitting right there, so damn close, his scent so heavenly that it was pulling him toward Malfoy without conscious thought.

“Malfoy…” Harry stammered, creeping a hand to Malfoy’s leg. “I need…”

There was a bang on the door. Harry swore under his breath at the sudden disturbance, but Malfoy bounded off the bed to answer the door. It was Remus.

“Where’s Harry?” he said. “He got an owl.”

Just as Malfoy turned around, Harry stood from the bed and wandered over nonchalantly. He was expecting it to be Andromeda’s response, but it wasn’t. The owl that was on Remus’s arm wasn’t Hedwig; it was a small, brown owl that looked to be one of Hogwarts’ owls.

Remus handed over the owl. The owl gave Harry a friendly hoot and held out its leg. Harry removed the letter and unfolded it. He recognized the untidy scrawl right away.

Dear Harry,
I heard about what had happened to you and I hope that you’re staying sane. I heard from Remus Lupin that even though a Daywalker still has his soul, he could still become evil if not careful. I hope when this letter finds you, you’re in good spirits…
I have some bad news to tell you (and Ron and Hermione if they’re there). It happened a while ago, but I couldn’t get meself to tell you at the time. I was too upset. Right at this moment it’s still hard for me to keep things together… I have to keep stopping to wipe at me eyes. I dun want this letter too soggy by the time I’m done… (I had already tried writing you two other letters, but they kept getting so wet you couldn’t read them). Anyway, here goes…
Grawp is dead.
I didn’t even like writing that. It’s too horrible to even think about… it wasn’t any of Grawpy’s fault, neither. It was those bloody Death Eaters! They attacked Hogwarts a month after you left on your quest… Professor McGonagall was great – she gathered as many as she could that was still around and drove off those bastards! If you want to know more, just talk to McGonagall. I dun want to write anymore, in case this letter is intercepted.
Well, gotta end things here. If you want to come, if you’re able, to Grawp’s funeral, it’ll be on November 3rd. It’s only a couple weeks away, but it’ll give you and the others some time to prepare, in case you’re busy this week or the next.
Please take good care of yourself, and mind Remus Lupin. He only wants the best for you.
Sincerely,
Hagrid

P.S. Witherwings says hi.

Harry folded the letter back up and stuck it into his robes. Malfoy was ogling Harry oddly, but he ignored it. He was concerned about Hagrid and his state of mind. The letter had a couple tear stains at the bottom, barely missing the last few words.

“Who’s it from?” Remus asked. Harry forgot that he was still in the room when he was silently reading the letter to himself.

“Hagrid,” said Harry. He pulled the letter back out of his robe and handed it to Remus. It was better if he let Remus read it instead of him saying anything out loud. There was no telling what Malfoy would think if Grawp was mentioned.

“Oh, that is bad news,” said Remus after he finished reading, but he didn’t look too upset by it. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’d be able to make it to the funeral. Are you going?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry.

“Funeral?” said Malfoy, puzzled. “Who died?”

“Never mind, Malfoy,” said Harry, taking the letter back from Remus before Malfoy could see any of it. “It’s none of your business.”

“Well,” sniffed Malfoy, “if it’s from your giant friend, then it must be one of his creatures that bit the dust. Good riddance, I say.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to agree. On one hand, Grawp was Hagrid’s brother and he meant a lot to Hagrid. On the other hand, Grawp was more of a menace than anything, even though he did seem tamer last time he saw him.

It would hurt Hagrid’s feelings too, if Harry didn’t come. Still, he didn’t want to promise something that he might not be able to keep. After thinking about it for another minute, Harry decided to wait and see what happened in the next week. If he was able to go after all, then he’ll owl Hagrid straight away.

.-.

That night, after Harry had another grand meal cooked up by Mrs. Weasley, the fireplace flashed, and out of it came Scrimgeour. Harry, Remus, and Hermione were sitting on the couch together, drinking butterbeer. Harry nearly dropped his bottle when Scrimgeour stood and presented himself as if he’d been a part of their group from the very beginning.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly. “Have you read this morning’s Daily Prophet?”

“Oh, I completely forgot!” said Hermione. “We’ve just been so busy with other things…”

“No matter,” said Scrimgeour easily. “I happen to have a copy right here.” He handed it over to Harry. “I think you’d be most interested in what they have to say.”

“I’ll bet I won’t,” grumbled Harry. He took the paper from his Sire anyway and looked at the front page. Actually, he wasn’t interested, but he wasn’t surprised by what he saw either. Still, he would like to know how they found out. Hermione read the paper with him, over his shoulder.

The Boy Who Lived: To Suck Blood!

A valuable and reliable source has informed us that Harry Potter—otherwise known as The Boy Who Lived—is not only trying to defeat Lord Voldie-thing, but is now a part of the undead! Besides sporting a lightning bolt scar, round glasses, messy hair, and the famous phoenix-feathered wand, he is now in possession of two very sharp, and very long set of fangs! Sources say that Mr. Potter is beginning his training as a Daywalker (which are vampires that still have their souls), as well as his duty to vanquishing the Dark Lord.
There had been some very close calls to some friends of his nearly dying at his hand. One only hopes that Mr. Potter will learn to control his urges soon, or the world will have to contend with more than just a dark wizard after them. Some are afraid that Harry Potter is no longer fit to defeating the Dark Lord; others say that this is probably Potter’s best bet on surviving.
There’s also been talk about Remus J. Lupin (whom is a werewolf) being close to Mr. Potter still, even though it’s a recipe for disaster. The facts on how they’re faring aren’t available at the present time, but Eldred Worple had this to say on the matter:

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin had been friends since Mr. Lupin was teaching at Hogwarts during Mr. Potter’s third year. There is a good chance that because of their friendship they won’t try killing one another any time soon. I don’t know how many fights they’ve gotten into, though, but it seems to me that they’re coping just fine. I’m not allowed to divulge their whereabouts, but suffice it to say, they’re doing what they can under such difficult circumstances.”

Although it sounds like Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin won’t be ripping into each other, others aren’t so sure about what Mr. Potter would do to other werewolves.

“It is possible that Mr. Potter would attack, and possibly kill, any other werewolf, were he or she in his space for too long,” said Perry Watson, an expert on Vampires, Werewolves, and other dark creatures. “Nevertheless, it isn’t just the werewolves that need to worry about Mr. Potter, it’s everyone else, too. As long as Mr. Potter continues to crave blood, he’ll be a danger to most of the wizarding society at large, simply because it’s the magic in a witch or wizard’s blood that drives his thirst…”

But is this true? So far there is no death count for Harry Potter. So far, he has succeeded in controlling himself. A reliable source has told us that Mr. Potter still eats human food and drinks normal liquids. According to Perry Watson, that is one of the main things that keeps Daywalkers sane and keeps them from becoming evil. And not only does Mr. Potter still partake in eating normally, but he also enjoys a glass of stag blood once in a while.
Does this mean that the world still has a chance of being rid of the evil dark wizard for good? Has this simply slowed the process of Harry Potter winning the war? Or can we say goodbye to our world as we know it?
(More on page 4.)

Harry had read enough. He folded the paper back the way it was and handed it surprisingly calmly to Remus.

“I’m going upstairs,” he announced to everyone in the room, and proceeded to do just that. Hermione stood and followed him.

Harry just about shut the door in her face, but she held out a hand. Harry wasn’t too surprised that she followed him to his room. Even though the article wasn’t as bad as some of the others that have been printed about him, it still struck a cord.

“You know better than to take the Daily Prophet seriously,” said Hermione. Harry grunted in annoyance as he sat heavily on his bed; he wasn’t in the mood for her at the moment, but didn’t voice anything. “They don’t know the real you, Harry. Sure, they know that you’re a Daywalker and that you still have your soul, but anyone who thinks that you’re unable to defeat Voldemort can just take a long walk off a short pier.”

Harry smirked, as his mind thought up all sort of things that those unbelievers could do, when there was a soft knock at the door. Harry’d been so irked by the article that he hadn’t been paying attention to the scents around him. He recognized the smell that came from the other side of the door, and his body shivered.

“Who is it?” Hermione called out. The door opened a crack.

“It’s me,” said Scrimgeour. “May I come in?”

Hermione stood and politely let him in. Harry guessed she mustn’t think that Scrimgeour wasn’t an irritation to him anymore.

“Are you all right?” Scrimgeour asked, sitting beside Harry. He gently placed a hand onto his shoulder, doing his best to make it look as if they were just friends.

“I’ll be fine,” said Harry. “It’s not the first time the Daily Prophet’s printed stuff about me.”

“I know how much you’ve wanted to keep this a secret,” said Scrimgeour in a comforting tone. “But the news would have been out sooner or later, and it’s probably best if it’s sooner than later.”

“Yeah, but now people will know the minute they see me,” grumbled Harry. “They’ll see me walking down the street and they’re point and stare, knowing that I could be hunting for blood – They’ll be frightened of me.”

“Don’t let that get to you,” mollified Scrimgeour. “They don’t know you like your friends do. Besides, not everyone will be frightened of you. There are many that find vampires fascinating.”

“Daywalkers, you mean.”

Scrimgeour shrugged. “Well, you’re still considered a vampire, which you are. You’re just a certain type of vampire.”

“Is there any other kind besides the soulless and the Daywalkers?”

Scrimgeour pursed his lips tightly. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it. For all we know, there very well could be a different kind of vampire out there. If there are, we haven’t discovered them.”

Ron knocked on the door, which was still partially open. “May I come in?”

“Yeah,” said Harry immediately. Ron smiled and walked in carefully as if he were guilty of invading their privacy.

“Shut the door, would you, Ronald?” said Scrimgeour. Ron nodded and shut the door quietly. “Now that we’re all here, perhaps it is a good time to recollect what happened that night that I found you three in the Black Forest.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d tell us,” said Hermione.

TBC

I will be posting and writing this fic even after book 7 comes out. I may or may not add things into future chapters because of the new canon. If I do add anything thanks to book 7, I will let you all know - If I didn't add anything, just did some good guessing, then I will let you know in my notes in the next chapters.

Thanks for sticking with this fic so far and enjoy the book!