A/N: Thank you fifespice for the review. you've encouraged me to type this chapter out from scratch today :
Disclaimer: I don't own J. K. Rowling's brilliant mind, therefore I do not own her wonderful characters
Vampire's Doll
Chapter 1: The Night of Realization
Harry's PoV
The moment it reached midnight, I was so excited with the fact that I was now seventeen-years-old, I did not notice a weird jolt going through my body. It wasn't unpleasant at all, no, it just seemed a little strange. Sometimes, strange can be a good thing, and other times not. Like the time when I thought that chocolate frogs were very strange, for they were food items yet (living?) frogs. That turned out to be a good thing, for they tasted exactly like the chocolate flavor I loved; plus, they came with these cool holographic witch/wizard cards. Something weird yet pleasant was also an event during fourth year, when junior death eater Draco Malfoy was transformed into a ferret. That, was one of the best moments of my life. Well, living life anyway.
I should really stop going off course. I suppose I am avoiding the subject, and need to explain why I am staring at the little packets of blood dear godfather had sent me. Well, after that strange feeling, I began to feel a little dizzy and light-headed. Nothing too unusual, I just thought that good for nothing Voldermort was planning something again; until I realized that my scar was perfectly fine. Frowning in confusion, I had sat on my bed and reached for the book that godfather had sent me, when I realized something was weird with my hands. Perhaps my eyes decieved me, but I seemed as if my fingers were a bit longer. My eyes might have not been wrong, for I had felt the same weird tingle. Then, I felt it on my other (right) hand, which was clutching the bedsheet. I glanced at it and felt that nothing was wrong. Maybe it was some weird growth spurt that all wizards (and/or witches) went through upon reaching of legal age. But I was very wrong.
I noticed the strange feeling in my mouth, and since I couldn't really see my mouth, I got off the cot the Dursleys called a "proper bed for someone so freakish." Right next to it was a small cabinet with two drawers. One stored all of my magic stuff (shrunken and locked, of course), while the other stored my daily needs such as clothing, toothpaste, and etc. I took out a small red mirror from the daily needs drawer and opened my mouth. Well, I was certainly "more freakish than usual." My canines had grown larger and more pointed, they could be considered fangs. I had stopped for a moment, a dawn of realization occuring; they WERE fangs.
Immediately, I had stared at the letter from Sirius. Every word now seemed clear. It was as if he was expecting me to turn into..this.. I looked at the book... vampire. The shock didn't really sink in, perhaps beacuse I was still in denial, or perhaps Hermione was right about me being thick-headed (at times even more so than Ronald. Ha, he'd probably hit me with a pillow or something if he heard me call him that). But it wasn't true, it couldn't be true. Wizards becoming of age don't just magically transform into Vampires, even I know that.
So here I am now, sitting on my cot.. sorry, bed, wondering and confused. I couldn't possibly be one of those vile creatures that followed Voldermort's order without question. I simply couldn't. Also, a vampire is only created when bitten, or through inheritance. Last time I recalled, the only thing close to biting me was a werewolf. Mom was like Hermione, incapable of inheriting a creature's traits since they were not half or pure blood. Not even a quarter. Dad was a pureblood, but he had an animagus form that was not a bat, so inheritance is out of the question. Now I'm just sitting on my cot... bed.. confused. I picked up the book and briefly flipped through it. No way, I'm not a vampire, I finally thought to myself. I don't eat house-elves, fairys, or fawns. I certainly am not moody when the sun is out, or have my powers faded in the presence of that light, and I definitely am not afraid of garlic or crosses. I think... though churches freak me out since Dudley would dress in that horrible Sunday Outfit, and garlic just tastes putrid. Ho hum, putrid. Now that's a word that would make 'Mione proud.
Off track do I go ever so easily. I took off my glasses for a minute to see if there were any cracks that made me think that I had fangs. Unfortunately, they say I'm blind as a bat without my specs.. eh, bad analogy. Must stay off the vampire topic. I am not a vampire. I am not in denial. Okay Harry Potter, as much as I enjoy arguing to myself, say this with me. I am not a vampire. I am not in denial. Good.
Rather, not good. All of a sudden, I was hungry. It was strange; since there was a big dinner with that horried Aunt Marge, I recieved a larger share of food since Aunt Petunia made dishes more of edible items. To tell the truth, I really like her cooking. Of course, not as good as Mrs. Weasley's, but still pretty good. She would make a better life as a cook than sitting around the house to play Bingo with old Mrs. Figgs of many dozen cats. One of her cats was extremely plump, I wonder how much blood I can get from that. Whoa, weird statement. Eww, cat blood. That was just gross. Like when Hermione claimed last (sixth) year that Crookshanks was infected with a strange pixie that made it bleed a sickening puce color. I will never forget that moment.
I looked at the shrunken packets of blood, wondering why I wasn't taking them all and sucking on the delicious liquid. Wait, what? I did not just think that. Concience mind of Harry Potter, repeat with me; I am not a vampire, I am not in denial. I am not a vampire, I am not in denial. Okay, good.
Putting the packets on the bottom of my daily needs drawer (since the other was unlocked), I began to explore some of the other presents. Ron had gotten me the newest edition of Wizard's Chess, where there were two chess boards; one floating on top of the other. The rules were a bit complicated, but it was interesting nontheless. The best thing about this edition was that the pieces don't die. With a simple reparo, it would be once-again, ready-to-go. Hermione was really thoughtful this time and didn't get me a book. The simple nature of it almost shocked me off the cot.. bed. It was a magically enhanced CD player- no batteries whatsoever, completely functional in Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley had knitted me a sweater, along with some of her famous home-made frozen pumpkin pie. I was a bit confused when I saw that Mr. Weasley had given me a book, very much like Sirius and Lupin (whos book was an Advanced Guide to the Dark Arts, Premium Edition). Sounds suspiciously like the effects of the nagging of a certain burnette Gryffindor girl.
Fred and George were so predictable; the latest batch of jokes from their successful shop, and a check for a percentage of their income. I was careful not to open the bag, more or so afraid that something will pop up unexpectedly. Ginny apparently had still not gotten over her obsession with me, she sent me a truckload of fake flowers, knowing that they'll preserve, and magically enhanced to smell like the real thing. Charlie had gotten me a pair of lovely red dragonhide boots (I'm assuming Chinese Fireball) and Bill had sent a clip-on earring with a cool design that looked like a four-leaf clover. I was suprised when Neville and the gang got together to buy me a rather expensive outfit that actually fit me. Juding from the looks of it, there was an eerie goth look to it, probably because of Seamus' influence.
Whether or not it was a good thing, I was flooded with fan-mail. Wedding rings, date requests, and truckloads of flowers. I had no idea what I was going to do with it all. Perhaps the same as last year- wonderful firewood if I do say so myself. I expected the expected.
What was unexpected, though, was to recieve a small parcel from a blonde I knew all-too-well. Death Eater wannabe, Draco Malfoy, Prefect of Slytherin. It was quite suspicious, and I didn't know whether or not to open the package. For all I know, it might be a piece of paper with some insult, or a bomb that could kill and explode number four, privet drive, along with all of Little Hangleton and Mongolia Crescent. Still, the fact that the pureblood prick had tried sending something to me was quite amusing.
Cursing my curiosity, I opened the parcel. There was a letter, which I read first. I always read the letters first.
Scarhead,
I'm just as unhappy about this situation as you. How come someone like you get to be a deadly creature of the dark, while I must watch? How you would be unhappy, is beacuse you can't get anything across that thick-headed skull of yours and would be in denial. This letter is probably making no sense at all. YOU ARE A VAMPIRE. DEAL WITH IT.
Now that I have made my point clear, I'll be on my way. Really, I had no intentions of writing this letter other than an interesting discovery I've found. It's the book that this stupid letter is attached to really. It's about your pathetic life. Shame I don't have one on the Weasel or the Mudblood. Yet then, they probably don't deserve to exist in my library's collection.
Oh, and the Dark Lord says hi.
FB
PS: he's gone dillusional I tell you! You half-bloods and mudblood friends are going to AKed by someone who enjoys muggle jigsaw puzzles.
As much as I am angry about the prick insulting my friends like that, I couldn't be more amused at his choice of conclusion. FB? Ah yes, I'd used to call him ferret-boy all the time after the incident. Good times, good times. This letter suprised me, really. The fact that Malfoy claims I was a vampire, which I certainly am not, and the fact that he's stating in his own humorous way, that Voldermort had a thing for muggle jigsaws. Who knew.
At the moment, I took the book in the parcel and placed it on the cot. I mean bed. Yes, bed. The book was also a hardcover leatherbound like Sirius' book, but it was in a dark gray color. On the front, was "Family: Harry Potter" in golden ink. Curious, I was just about to flip the book's cover open when I felt hungry again. Sighing, I carefully made my way to the kichens, fully aware that it was half-past midnight and if I make so much as even a creak to wake up the sleeping logs (somehow), it was another week of saying hello to Dudley's friends. I opened the fridge- cupcakes, roasted steak, bacon, and some fruits. Oh yes, tomorrow was their grocery shopping day. Sighing in defeat, I crawled back to my cot... bed.
I decided to take some of the frozen pumpkin pie that Mrs. Weasley had graciously sent me, only to realize that I couldn't eat it. I couldn't even take a bite, and that scared me. Usually, I was first to devour the pie since frozen deserts were delicious. Assuming that today was not a day I should eat pie, I turned to Hagrid's two packages of store-bought Honeydukes candy. Nothing can make me turn down candy.
How wrong that was. I took an acid pop and found myself hissing in distaste. Perhaps saying something in Parseltongue I was not aware of. Sighing, I yanked the repelled flavor and reached for another. A red one caught my view: blood-flavored lollipops. I've never really liked them, but now it was as if I couldn't spend a second without them. Perhaps I had a sweet tooth. Acid wasn't sweet, blood was. ... did those words just come from me? Perhaps so, seeing as I am now happily sucking on the pop. Something was definitely wrong with me, I just don't know what.
Harry Potter, I thought to myself, repeat after me. There is nothing wrong with me. I am not a vampire. I am not in denial
Sadly, though, I am all of the above.