Once Bitten

It was two weeks before the end of Harry's seventh year, and the castle was in a panic when Ron, Hermione, and himself were stopped in the common room on their way down to breakfast. Professor McGonnagal was in front of the door, not letting anyone leave.

"Bloody hell," Ron was heard saying rather loudly, "what's happened now?"

"Someone's been killed!" Squeaked a tiny first year girl. "I went down to breakfast early and halfway through eating all the teachers started freaking out! They found a Slytherin in the dungeons, dead! I overheard professor Sprout telling McGonnagal!"

Ron's eyes went wide. "Who?" he demanded of the tiny little blond.

She shook her head. "I dunno."

Ron looked at Harry, then at Hermione, then back at Harry. Hermione was looking at McGonnagal expectantly, hoping she was there to tell them what was going on. The older woman seemed to be waiting for them all to shut up. When they did, she spoke in a shaky voice.

"This morning," she said, "A seventh year student, Blaise Zabini, was found dead in the dungeons just outside of the Slytherin common rooms-"

"Is the Basilisk back!?" someone shouted from the back of the room.

"Don't be stupid, it's dead!" someone else countered.

"This was not the work of a Basilisk," McGonnagal said. "The student' blood had been drained. We believe a vampire has infiltrated the castle. The staff is currently sweeping the castle to secure it. In the meantime, no one is to leave the common rooms."

The school went into a panic after Blaise Zabini was found. Students were confined to their common rooms and staff members were posted at guards at every common room entrance. This was on a Friday. When classes resumed on Monday, students were not allowed to wander the halls alone. They were escorted from class to class by members of the staff and no one was allowed anywhere in the castle without staff supervision.

It was late Wednesday night - or early Thursday evening, depending on how you looked at it - when she came to him. He was sound asleep in the seventh year boys dormitory. A weight on the mattress and the shift it caused roused him from sleep. He awoke to a hand covering his mouth and a woman with a finger to her lip above him, sushing him. Quiet. His first instinct was to fight, but he caught her gaze and froze.

Her eyes. They were ancient. Not old, not elderly or wrinkled as an old woman's would be. But ancient. Wise. Aged beyond aging. He refocused his eyes on her entire form and was surprised by her youth. Physically, she didn't look any older than he himself was.

"Harry Potter," she said quietly, her voice soft and smooth as silk. "I've been wanting to meet you."

He glared at her, eyes accusing. It was then he realized he was wearing his glasses. She must have put them on him, wanted him to see her. Why? If she was there to suck him dry, what would she care if he could see her or not.

"You're beautiful, you know. Quidditch has treated you well." She ran her free hand along his exposed chest, over his nipple, down to his abdomen. What the hell was she doing? "My creator wasn't nearly so kind," she whispered low in his ear.

Creator? Raw panic gripped his mind as the words sunk in. She was going to bite him, make him like her. He jerked up into a sitting position, ready to flee. The vampire pushed him back down and clamped her hand down hard on his mouth. Her other hand went around his neck.

"Relax," she hissed. "It will be the most exquisite pain you have ever felt. But first, a change of setting is in order."

Before he could fight back, she bit the soft flesh between his shoulder and neck, just the tiniest nip. His eyelids dropped and he fell into sleep.

She brought him to the forest. To the same clearing where her beloved sire had gifted her with this immortal life. A crescent moon hung overhead, lighting the clearing with a gentle blue glow. She laid him down on the cold earth gently, and waited for the effects of her sleep venom to wear off.

When the boy began to stir, she straddled his abdomen and pinned his arms over his head, rendering him more or less immobile.

When he came fully awake, he started yelling and trying to buck her off. She growled at him and the shock of hearing a person growl shut him up long enough for her to speak.

"Relax, darling," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're going to kill me!" He spat. She laughed.

"Only your mortal self," she said. "Relax, lovely."

She bent forward and bit the tend spot where his shoulder met his neck. He thrashed, but only for a moment, as her venom kicked in and made him complacent, calm.

He was delicious.

As soon as his blood touched her tongue, a shock ran through her body. A warm pulse of ecstasy that spread from the tender place between her legs outward, until she was consumed by it. The power, by Merlin, the power he had. She drank greedily, grinding herself gently against his Quidditch hardened abdomen. As more of her venom seeped in and began to transform him, Harry moaned, her own arousal spilling over into his dying flesh. She sensed rather than felt the slight hardening of his cocks and saw his nipples grow stiff. Removing her fangs from his neck, she shifted back so that she was straddling his groin and pressed herself against his cock through the clothing they both wore. Harry's green eyes were closed and he moaned with pleasure even as he twitched and hissed in pain.

She licked the bite on his neck to seal the wound.

"Please..." his voice came out as a strangled whisper. She traced a finger around his left nipple and pressed herself against him. He moaned and arched his back ever so slightly. His arms lay limp above his head and his eyes opened a crack, a sliver of brilliant green peeking through from beyond dark lashes.

She pressed herself against him again and gasped at the sensation, then leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the nipple her hand had neglected moments before. Another bite, lighter, less deep, but still satisfying. Her tongue played on his nipple even as it lapped up the blood seeping from the wound. She traced up his ribcage with her fingernails, which lengthened to razor-sharp points as she drank and humped. His erection was fading as the blood drained. She shifted so that her clitoris rested on the bony spot just above and pressed.

A single nail on her right hand found the spot it was looking for and she snapped her wrist forward, punching through skin and muscle, between the ribs, and into the heard. She drank, moaning and gasping, while the venom on her nail seeped into his veins, destroying what little remained of his mortality.

The last drop spilled from his chest. She climaxed, back arched, head thrown back, an unearthly scream filling the night sky. His eyes went wide and the iris's went black while he cried out, body twitching. She yanked her nail from his chest and it immediately shrank to normal size. Harry fell unconscious. She laid herself down stop him and dozed while she waited for him to awake.