Sealed With Lies by Alexannah
Summary: Snape puts Harry under a magical leash to keep him out of trouble. But unbeknown to him, Harry has been turned into a vampire, and the leash is causing far more harm than good. Terrified of losing his friends, Harry would rather starve than risk the truth coming out.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Misc > Keepers of the Snitch Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Hermione, Remus, Ron, Sirius
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Snape's a Bully, Snape is Controlling, Snape is Desperate, Snape is Mean, Overly-protective Snape, Snape is Stern
Genres: Angst, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Runaway, Spying on Harry! Snape, Vampire!Harry, Vampires
Takes Place: 3rd summer, 3rd Year
Warnings: Suicide Themes, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 21 Completed: No Word count: 32255 Read: 127353 Published: 03 Feb 2015 Updated: 22 Jun 2015
First Kill by Alexannah

When Harry had woken up to find himself in the Hospital Wing after the Quidditch match, he had panicked.

“Mr Potter, will you stop trying to get up,” Madam Pomfrey said sharply, pushing him back down onto his bed for the tenth time.

“But—”

No! You need rest. If you won’t stop fighting me I will have to restrain you.”

Harry blanched. Now she sounded like Snape. When had Hogwarts turned into Privet Drive?

So far, she didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd about him—well, she had muttered about his colder-than-normal body temperature, putting it down to the Dementors; and made a couple of pointed comments about his thinner stature—but shown no sign of putting two and two together. Yet.

Unfortunately, Harry knew he was in trouble if he didn’t get out of the Hospital Wing as soon as possible. Even if she didn’t realise what he was, if he stayed here, he wouldn’t be able to feed. And with Snape’s leash, he couldn’t sneak out during the night.

He needed to get out now. But how to get past the matron? She was insisting on keeping him in for the rest of the weekend. What if by Monday he was too weak to make the journey?

Harry considered the problem over his dinner. Madam Pomfrey was breathing down his neck, and he ate as little as he thought she would let him get away with. When she reluctantly took the tray away, he took a big risk.

He leapt out of bed—as much as he could, not exactly in full health—hurried over to the door she had disappeared into, and heaved a bedside table up against it. He then pulled a set of curtains across the window in case someone walked in, opened it up, and looked wildly out.

Now he had a problem. Summoning charms weren’t taught till fourth year. Harry leaned right out of the window-sill, eyes searching, and could have cried in relief when he saw a crow perched on the edge of the roof, almost directly above him.

It was the only spell he could think of, and he hoped it wouldn’t miss. Harry took quick but careful aim, and whispered, “Diffindo!

He felt incredibly guilty as the bird let out a screech and fell, its wing broken. Harry wasn’t the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing—he reached out a hand and just managed to catch it, earning himself a very sharp nip on the fingers as the crow struggled for freedom.

A rattling doorknob followed by a loud banging signified Madam Pomfrey was trying to come back into the ward. Harry forced himself to stop feeling sorry for the bird—he couldn’t help but think of it as his victim. He hadn’t bitten anything alive before.

Sorry, Harry thought miserably. It’s me or you.

He wrung its neck, instantly feeling nauseous, but knew it was the kindest approach. The moment the bird was dead, and beyond feeling what Harry was about to do to it, Harry sank his fangs in and drank what he could before depositing the dry body out of the window.

Madam Pomfrey was still banging, and yelling for help. Harry hurried to remove the table, and the door shot open, knocking him in the face.

“Ow!”

“Oh, sorry, Potter!” Madam Pomfrey looked frazzled. “What happened there?”

“Um, I think the door was just stuck,” Harry lied, not looking her in the eye.

“Hmm … well, back to bed, young man. Now.

Harry knew he couldn’t do that again. But at least he had something in his system to keep him going till Monday. He wished he could have escaped, but Madam Pomfrey would have tracked him down like a bloodhound and done good on her threat to tie him up. He had no choice but to stay, and hope that for once, luck would be on his side.

-

It looked like it was, for the most part. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t discovered his secret, which made up for the fact that during Monday’s classes, Harry was fighting the most unpleasant stomach pain of his life. Madam Pomfrey had made sure he ate what she gave him, in amongst tutting at his skinny frame. She had let him go reluctantly, telling him firmly that he was to keep it up, and Harry had lied again, telling her he would.

“I hate lying,” he said to Snuffles later after filling the dog in. He had spotted Snuffles in the stands during the match, and the dog seemed to have been quite concerned for him, covering him with licks when Harry had appeared. “I mean, lying to Snape’s one thing; it’s not like the git actually cares about me.” Snuffles’ ears had pricked at that. “He’s probably just trying to cause himself less trouble … But Madam Pomfrey, she’s the nurse. She means well. I don’t like lying to her … or anyone.”

Snuffles whined and licked Harry’s cheek. Harry sighed.

-

November passed slowly. Every moment he got, Harry would sneak into what he now thought of as Snuffles’ room. Since nobody ever went in there—the dust and cobwebs could attest to that—he smuggled the D. O. Apprang books into the room and hid them under a load of junk. Just in case. They had to be missed at some point, after all, and since Snape knew he had been out of bed in his Cloak that night …

Sometimes Snuffles was there in the room, sometimes he wasn’t; sometimes there would be a meal for Harry, and sometimes there wasn’t. The erratic supply meant Harry was still consuming far less than he needed, and what with the demands of classes and Quidditch practise, he still felt drained all the time.

But the real problem began when winter arrived. Snuffles’ offerings had gone from erratic to almost non-existent. He was sometimes there, whining mournfully as if trying to apologise, but most of the time Harry didn’t see him.

Since he had been living on rabbits, with a couple of birds and rats and, once, a fox, Harry figured that hibernation had been the cause of Snuffles’ hunting problems. He tried to assure the dejected dog that he didn’t blame him—which he didn’t—but Harry was worrying madly again. His leftover dragon blood had now all been used up, and if Snuffles couldn’t find anything else, Harry was going to starve.

When the last day of term rolled around, Harry had been without any blood for a week. He felt awful, but dragged himself out of bed to see his friends off to Hogsmeade in order to avoid probing questions into his health.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked, sounding concerned.

“’Course, I’m fine,” Harry said, a little too quickly. “Have fun in Hogsmeade.”

He began heading back to Gryffindor Tower, not really thinking about what he was going to do, but got cornered by Fred and George—and the Marauder’s Map. Whilst they were showing him how it worked—Harry almost forgot his troubles for a few minutes in wonder—he didn’t bother telling them that it actually wouldn’t help him get to Hogsmeade. Snape had made sure of that.

He waved them goodbye, and allowed himself a sigh once they had gone. As tempting as the map was, he couldn’t use it to help him. He pocketed it and continued his journey to the common room, hoping the twins wouldn’t mention the map to Ron and Hermione—they would want to know why he hadn’t come then.

It all came down to Snape, Harry thought bitterly. If Snape had just left him alone, then Harry wouldn’t be in this mess. He would be able to go to Hogsmeade with his friends. He would be able to visit Hagrid. And he would be able to go out hunting for himself, use a wand to find what he needed …

Mind you, did he really know any spells that would bring animals out of hibernation?

Harry scowled. He couldn’t even blame everything on Snape. It wasn’t fair. He needed someone to blame this on. And somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to blame the vampire that had Turned him.

He admittedly hadn’t thought about it much since that night. He still didn’t quite understand what had happened there. Who the attacker was, and who the vampire was. Maybe he never would know.

Harry began making his way to Snuffles’ room, in the vague hope that maybe there would be something in there that would make him feel a little less hungry and tired—at least for a while.

To be continued...


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