A Vampire's Soul

Title: A Vampire’s Soul, chapter one
Pairings: Harry/Draco, slight Harry/Ron/Hermione, Ron/Harry, Ron/Hermione, Harry/others – This fic will have Harry with many sexual partners, but ultimately it’s a H/D. The love between Harry and others are different in ways.

Rating: R (rating will go up)

Warnings: Vampires, so there’s bound to be blood mentioned, will be violence later, Mostly Slash, Minor Het

Words: About 3,700

Notes: I decided to try my hand at a vampire fic. I have only read one before, so if any of what I write in here sounds like other vampire fics, I apologize. Since I’ve wrote one where Harry’s like a werewolf, I might as well make a sister fic where he’s a vampire. I’ve taken most of my information from a Dracula site that tells facts about the actual Dracula from the book and I’ve altered some of them, like other storyteller’s have about vampires.

Also, later in the fic there will be some Original Characters, but they won’t become that major. I didn’t think I would be writing any, but because we don’t know many vampires or werewolves in the HP verse, I made some up. Hopefully that can be overlooked. I did my best with writing them, so I hope they seem natural. Also, I tried to make sure they weren’t getting too much of the spotlight, but it might seem that way in a couple chapters.

Despite the way it starts, this won’t become a Harry/Hermione fic.

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

.-.

When Harry first woke he thought he was dead.

Eyes staring at the familiar white ceiling of Hogwarts’ infirmary and a hand on his chest, he took a deep breath and waited… and waited… but he couldn’t feel his heart beat. Still, if he was dead, then why did Heaven look like the hospital wing, and why did he feel so… hungry? You weren’t supposed to be hungry when you’re dead.

Another thing was that although he was hungry, it wasn’t the kind of hunger he had for food—his stomach wasn’t growling. He blinked at the ceiling for a long while, trying to recall what happened, but nothing was coming to him. Last he remembered he was outside, in the Black Forest, with Ron and Hermione.

Harry gasped; where were they? Did something happen while they were there? Did they even manage to find the Horcrux like they planned? Was he the only survivor? He shivered, not liking that thought. If Ron or Hermione—or both—died because of him, he would never forgive himself.

He rubbed his chest where his heart should be beating wildly. Was he dead? He was so confused, and yet he was more worried about what happened to his two best friends. Slowly, the night’s events started to come back. He did find a Horcrux; he remembered that now. But then something had happened . . . . An attack? It would explain why he was in the infirmary, but it didn’t explain why his heart wasn’t beating and why he had such an enormous urge to . . . do something. He needed something, but what?

Harry suddenly got the idea of what it was when the door to the infirmary opened—he could smell it, hear it; the smell of fresh, living blood and the sound of a strong heartbeat. In an odd sort of panic, Harry sat up.

“Harry!” Hermione screeched; brown, frizzy hair flying behind her. “Oh, Harry, we feared the worst for you!”

She knocked him back down on the bed with the force of her hug. In his relief to see that she was all right, Harry forgotten his earlier urges. He hugged her back, a laugh somehow emerging out of him.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right, Hermione. Where’s Ron?”

“He’s with Ginny, keeping her calm. I came in to get a peek at you and was surprised to see you sitting up, awake. We had no idea why your heart stopped—we feared you’d stop breathing any time now!” She pulled back from his embrace and then placed a hand on his chest. “Harry, your heart… it still isn’t…”

And then just as sudden as she had flung herself at him, she backed away, hanging nearly off the side of the bed. “You-you’re…”

“What, Hermione?” he said impatiently. “Am I supposed to be dead?”

Hermione shook her head, whether in disagreement or disbelief, he wasn’t sure. “Don’t you remember anything?” she asked.

“I remember that we went to the Black Forest to look for a Horcrux. We found it, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did, but don’t you remember the attack after we got it?”

“I think so,” Harry pursed his lips, but in doing so he bit himself. “Ah!”

“What is it?” Hermione asked, concerned.

He held a hand to his mouth. “Nuffin’,” he mumbled. “I just bit myself…”

Hermione suddenly looked like she was about to cry. “Oh, Harry!”

Confused, he rubbed at his sore lip… then a fingertip found a very sharp tooth. With wide eyes, Harry touched the tips of his new set of fangs. “No,” he groaned.

Hermione looked crestfallen. “Harry, we were attacked… by a horde of vampires!”

Harry stared at her, flabbergasted. But still, he wasn’t thinking of himself. “Is Ron--?”

She whimpered, trying not to lose it. “Ron’s fine. We didn’t know what would happen to you—we thought it was too late to save you—we thought…”

“It’s ok, Hermione,” he said quickly. “I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine!” she cried. “You’re… you’re…”

And then, just like that, his urges came back fully. That, in itself, made him realize…

“I’m a vampire.”

Hermione sobbed quietly into her hand, nodding.

“That’s why my heart isn’t beating,” he continued. “And that’s why I’m having these…” he looked at her, eyes shining with such hunger it made her shiver, “…cravings.”

Hermione made to stand. “Harry…”

He was out of bed so fast it startled her. She ran to the middle of the room, anxious on what to do as she stared at her friend-turned-vampire. She wanted to stay and help him, be with him, but he was acting on his urges now—urges he couldn’t control and she was afraid he’d go too far and suck her dry. Maybe even Turn her. He was crouching nearly on all fours, one knee up, as he seemed to keep her frozen in place with those vibrant, green eyes. He moved closer.

“Hermione,” he rumbled. “I need… I must have…”

“I-I’ll get you some animal blood, Harry. That’ll help you. Just—just control yourself…”

“I don’t want animal blood, Hermione. You know what I want.” He bared his fangs.

She fidgeted. “Harry… if you take too much of my blood, I could die!”

“I won’t,” he said, inching closer. “I’ll make sure I don’t.”

“But you could get carried away… you don’t have enough control yet. You could completely drain me.”

He stood and stalked toward her. “I won’t—I don’t want to kill you—”

Her body went lax as she gazed into his eyes, and suddenly she wanted it. She wanted to feel him around her, to feel his fangs press into her neck, his lips on her skin… she was weak, and Harry moved to catch her in those supernaturally powerful arms of his and she couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping.

Harry gripped her tightly; the feel of her heart beating wildly excited him more. He could smell her life-giving blood pumping through her body, and he craved it more than anything else. He brought his nose to her neck and inhaled—his fangs extended, his mouth opened, and she tilted her head back to allow him access.

At the first touch of fangs to skin, Hermione let out a high-pitched squeak and then moaned. She had soaked her knickers.

Harry kept one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her head as he gently pierced her. She gasped, and then sighed as Harry drank—eyes gleaming in the dimly lit infirmary. It was warm and delicious; he felt his senses heightening, his body getting stronger, and more powerful. He felt as if he could do anything and everything.

Her arms fell limp to her sides. Harry didn’t want to stop – he wanted it all. He wanted every bit of her lifeblood… to fill him with her sweet fluids and then… he didn’t know what else he wanted to do to her afterward, but he felt he wanted to do something.

He jolted. He couldn’t do that to her, she was his friend. He promised her he wouldn’t drain her completely dry. He would not kill her. Slowly, he retracted his fangs…

“Hermione!” He heard Ron shout. He turned his head to see Ron’s shocked expression. They stared at one another for a while—both unsure of what to do or say, but then Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Harry’s head.

“Let her go,” he said in a tone that told Harry that he was being very serious and that he would hex him if he didn’t do as he said. Harry’s eyes flashed as his inner demon struggled with his… soul? He was confused; did he still have his soul, and if so, what did it mean?

“Are you deaf as well as a murderer?” Ron snarled. “Let her go!”

Harry started, shocked at how easily Ron was accusing him of killing Hermione when he wasn’t even sure if she was still alive or not. He parted his lips to show his fangs; blood—Hermione’s blood—dripped from his mouth and chin. He saw Ron gulp nervously, but his wand never wavered.

“I didn’t kill her,” said Harry slowly.

“Maybe, but you would have!” Ron growled. Harry’s face fell at that, knowing that Ron might be right—but he did stop; he had retracted his fangs from her neck.

“No,” he replied, still slowly. “I stopped just as you came in. I…” he looked down at Hermione’s limp form in his arms. “I didn’t want to kill her. I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Then let her go,” said Ron, still serious.

“All right, Ron, don’t get your undies in a bunch…” He picked her up—she was surprisingly light—and laid her onto the bed he had just occupied. Ron was at her side immediately, checking her pulse. There really was no need to—Harry could’ve told him from where he stood.

“Thank Merlin she’s alive,” Ron sighed. Indeed, she was; her heart was still beating.

“I could’ve told you that,” said Harry.

Ron looked as if he was about to retort, but then settled with saying, “I had to check for myself.”

Harry nodded. “I understand.” He wasn’t sure if he should let them be or stay. The last thing he wanted was to lose Ron’s trust in him.

After a few moments of silence, Ron spoke.

“Will she be all right?”

Harry took a chance and sat on the opposite side of the bed. “Yeah, she’ll be fine… she just needs rest.”

“And a Blood Replenishing Potion,” said Madam Pomfrey when she walked in with a frown. She was carrying a vial of said potion. “My Alert Charm didn’t go off to tell me you were awake, Mr. Potter.”

“Maybe it only works on those that have a heartbeat,” said Harry bitterly. “Ever thought of that?” He absently placed a hand on his non-beating heart. He was beginning to miss it.

Pomfrey pursed her lips as she tended to Hermione, trying to mend the bite marks on her neck, but they were still there. They must be a magical injury, so they couldn’t be healed completely—just scab over.

Harry caught Ron’s eye; he still wasn’t looking too happy about the situation, but at least Ron wasn’t asking for Harry to be locked away or killed.

Pomfrey force-fed Hermione the potion, and then laid her back down. “She’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t have her fluids drained again too soon.” She shot Harry a dirty look. Harry looked sheepish.

“I’ll look after her,” promised Ron. He also gave Harry a look. Harry tried to give Ron a sheepish look too, but he felt offended that Ron would think he’d attack Hermione in this condition. Not only did he not want to jeopardize her life, but also he didn’t need anymore blood… yet. He was full.

Madam Pomfrey left after redoing the Alert Charm in the room. An awkward silence fell over them.

“Ron, I’m sorry,” Harry said after a while. “I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to drink…”

“So you attacked Hermione,” said Ron in an accusing tone.

“I didn’t attack her!” Harry said, feeling offended again. “I … came at her normally… and for some reason she… gave in. She let me.”

“Ever think that it was because you were using your powers on her?” Ron huffed irritably.

Harry blinked. “My—what powers?”

Ron sighed in annoyance. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about your own powers.”

“Ron, I just found out that I’m a Vampire.” They both winced. “I don’t know what I’m capable of!”

Slowly, Ron replied, “Vampires have this power of seduction. They gaze into their victims’ eyes and the victims succumb.”

Harry bowed his head. “I—I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, I figured that out now.” Ron stared at Hermione. “It’s a good thing I came in when I did.”

Harry snorted. “I told you…”

“Yeah, yeah… you were stopping anyway. Right.”

“I was!” Harry said, exasperated. There was silence again, and then Ron sighed.

“At least she won’t become a vampire.”

Harry flinched. “I wouldn’t know how to . . . . By the way, who bit me?”

“Huh?”

“Who was it that bit me? Did you get a chance to see?”

Ron shook his head. “I didn’t see. I was too busy fighting off other vampires that came at me.” He looked up at Harry. “Those things didn’t seem to have any souls. How is it that you seem to have kept yours?”

Harry shrugged. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

“I didn’t see who bit you, though,” Ron continued. “There was a flash and then we were lying on the ground and some of the vampires were dead.”

Harry shivered.

“But we’ve got the Horcrux, so all we have to do is figure out how to destroy it.”

Harry frowned; Ron seemed to be taking his new form with ease now that he knew Hermione would be OK. Harry still wondered what Ron thought of him, but he was too afraid to ask.

“We’ll think of something,” he said instead.

“You mean Hermione will,” said Ron, smiling.

“Yeah,” said Harry.

Again, silence. Harry started to wonder just what was in store for him. He also wondered if that feeling he had before when he thought about draining Hermione dry was the instinct to Turn someone. Would he have known how to Turn her if he accidentally drained her? If he did drain her, he probably would feel as if he had no choice; he wouldn’t want to see her dead.

“How’s Ginny?” he asked, hoping to distract his line of thoughts. It made him feel sick just thinking about almost Turning Hermione.

“She’s fine,” said Ron. “Worried about you, of course.”

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

“I should go tell her that you’re all right, but…” he leered at Harry, who sighed.

“Yeah, I understand. You want to make sure I don’t bite Hermione again.”

“Right.”

“But, you have nothing to worry about, mate. I’m full, so I don’t have the urge to bite. See how calm I am?”

Ron stared at him. “Yeah, but still…”

Harry pushed at Ron’s shoulder lightly. “Go tell her I’m fine so she doesn’t worry herself to death. I promise I won’t hurt Hermione. You know I don’t want her dead.”

“Maybe not dead, but what about undead?”

“I told you, Ron, I don’t know how to Turn anyone.”

Ron frowned. “Yes, but…”

Harry shoved at him again. “Go get her, then. If you want, I’ll go sit on the opposite side of the room so I’m not tempted to bite Hermione again.”

Ron stared as if contemplating it, and then he finally nodded and went to get Ginny.

Harry did as he said he would and sat on a different bed on the other side of the infirmary. As he sat there, he could still hear and smell Hermione’s blood pounding through her veins. Deep down, Harry could feel the urge again—but he squashed it, telling it to behave itself. Surprisingly, it listened. The only explanation he could think of was that it was his soul that had told the monster in him to obey. There must be something to this still-having-a-soul thing.

Right when Ron and Ginny entered the infirmary, Hermione finally began to stir. Her heart was thudding harder now as her senses awakened. Harry’s own senses awoke too, and it nearly had him drooling. The louder her heart beat, the more Harry wanted to taste the blood that pumped through it.

“Hermione!” cried Ginny when she saw the other girl in bed. Harry stayed still on his own bed in the corner.

“Ginny,” said Hermione, her voice hoarse. “What happened?” She looked around. “Where’s Harry?”

The question made Ginny realize why she was there in the first place and also looked around. “Harry?”

“I’m here,” he said, standing from his spot on the bed. Shadows fell around him, but the light in the room emphasized his fangs, and Ginny gave a startled yelp.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you…” Harry walked closer, getting away from the shadows. Ginny still looked a little unnerved.

“It’s all right…” she stared at him as if she could hardly believe that it was him. “Harry? Are you… are you all right?”

“Oh, peachy,” said Harry sardonically. “Couldn’t be better. Despite the fact that I nearly sucked one of my best friends dry and had thoughts about Turning her.”

Ron’s eyes looked as if they would pop out of their sockets. “What?”

“I said I had thoughts about it,” he paused. “I… I think that’s what was happening. I don’t know; I’ve never been a vampire before!”

Ginny shrank from him.

“Harry?” said Hermione softly. Harry moved to her bedside instantly and took her hand in his.

“Hermione,” he croaked. “I’m—I’m so sorry…”

She smiled, shocking most in the room. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’ll be fine.”

“With plenty of bed rest,” said Ron, sitting next to her other side.

“And staying away from Harry when he’s hungry!” Ginny blurted.

Harry looked ill. “Oh, God…”

“Harry, please,” said Hermione. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I know you couldn’t help it, that you were… thirsty.”

Harry frowned deeply, but he also had little spots of pink on his cheeks. Ron was looking unnerved about her waving it off, and Ginny was still looking jittery.

“What I’d like to know is why I still have my soul,” he said to Hermione.

She beamed at him, and he was relieved to see her like this instead of a giant ball of fury like he expected. “I’m going to take a wild guess here,” she said, “and say that it’s because of your pure heart that made you keep your soul when you were bitten. Another reason could be because you were Turned by another vampire whom still had his or her soul.”

“There are other vampires with souls, then?” said Ron.

“Of course there are,” said Hermione. “It all depends on who bit them, how they were born, raised, things like that. I’ve read a really good book on vampires once…”

“Of course,” smiled Harry. His fangs had gleamed again, only rattling Ginny badly. Ron was paying attention to Hermione.

“…And there were some really interesting facts about vampires with souls and ones without. You can tell the difference between them by performing a few simple tests. One thing about the soulless vampire is that they don’t have a reflection or a shadow.”

Harry blinked. “So, I still have my reflection?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “Go see for yourself.” She pointed at a mirror on the wall next to them.

Hesitantly, Harry stood and made his way to the mirror. He took a deep breath and then stepped up to it. He smiled in relief—he did indeed have his reflection. And upon further observation, looking down, he also still had his shadow.

“So why does Harry still have a reflection and his shadow?” Ron asked.

“Because he’s got a soul,” Hermione said. “Also, the soulless vampire can appear as mist or elemental dust; is repelled by garlic and holy symbols, such as holy water; can only cross running water at the slack or the flood of the tide; must sleep on the soil of its native land, and—this is the best bit of all—can be destroyed by daylight.”

“So, I can walk around by day still and not get killed?” Harry said, feeling loads better already.

“Of course you can,” she said. “You can move freely during the day, but your supernatural powers will be reduced. You’re stronger at night.”

Ginny began to back away. “It’s—it’s nighttime right now!”

“Yeah, so it is,” said Hermione, shrugging. “That’s why he was able to… hypnotize me.”

Harry frowned again. “Oh, Hermione, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry! I’m fine. I’m just thankful that you’re a vampire with a soul.”

“So what do they call vampires with souls?” Ron asked. “Soulful vampires?”

“No,” Hermione grinned. “They’re called Daywalkers. The most famous of vampires is Count Dracula, of course, and he could walk around during the day with no problems. You see, Dracul means ‘dragon’,” she explained. “That’s why they have a group called the Order of the Dragon, and that’s where the ‘good’ or less evil vampires gather.”

“Dragon?” Ron scrunched his nose. “I thought draco meant dragon.”

“Yes,” she said, looking amused. “Drac, or Dracul, means draco, which of course means ‘dragon’. And Dracula means ‘son of the dragon’.”

“Or devil,” said Ginny.

They all turned to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Ginny?” said Ron. “Why’re you way over there?”

“Um, because…” she said, stretching her arm out behind her to find the door. “I was just thinking… that I forgot something back in the common room. So, I’ll just… go and get it…” She turned and fled out the door.

“What’s the matter with her?” asked Harry.

Hermione looked away, biting her lower lip. “Well,” she said, “Ginny has this… fear.”

“She does?” said Ron, perplexed. “What’s she afraid of?”

Hermione looked up and stared at Harry. Ron followed her gaze. Harry blanched.

“She’s scared of me, isn’t she?” Harry said softly.

“Of vampires,” confirmed Hermione, nodding. “Sorry, Harry.”

Harry frowned as he turned and stared at the door Ginny just exited. He wondered if she would ever be able to get over her fear.

TBC

AN: I will try to post a chapter every Friday (or at least every week). We shall see how well I do. So, next chapter next Friday! C&C is very welcome!